The Dual Nature of Erv

Erv was a man of contradictions—a softy at heart yet outwardly a hard ass. His dual nature was evident in the way he interacted with the world around him. On one hand, he was the secret benefactor, regularly purchasing and delivering bags of traditional Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter meals for the nuns at St. Mary’s in Saint Francis. It took years for his family to uncover this side of him, which revealed a depth of compassion that belied his gruff exterior. After his routine was disrupted post-9/11 when safety concerns arose, he admitted his charitable mission, puzzled as to why people were hesitant to accept food from a stranger.

Conversely, Erv was no stranger to asserting himself. I can still hear him bellowing “OUT!” to unsolicited salespeople, fiercely protective of his bar's integrity. His most notable stand came in 1980 when he swore he’d no longer serve Miller products after a fallout with their distributor, vowing instead to become the biggest Budweiser house in the state. This bold declaration became a point of pride as he successfully resisted the naysayers who claimed he would fail.

The tables turned when Janet, a savvy young woman who shared his passion for hardcover books and became a friend through a new distribution deal, introduced him to Miller once again. Though he initially resisted, her charm convinced him to allow some Miller products back in, and he even embraced craft options on tap. Still, throughout these changes, the biggest mirror in his bar remained dedicated to Budweiser—a lasting symbol of his unwavering loyalty.