Head east down Jayhawk Boulevard to Oread Avenue and you'll run directly into 618 W. 12th St. The unusually square-shaped, flat-roofed structure can be seen from as far away as the Kansas Union and, on some days, the drone of its jukebox is audible from the lawn of Watson Library. "Holy God," you think to yourself while walking, "is that friggin' E-Double song the only one they ever play?"
E-Double song the entry this week Upon first glance at the wood-paneled facade, you'd think that the building would be reduced to a pile of rubble should a stiff wind suddenly arise. You walk up onto the porch anyway, go inside and order a beer. The graffiti-laden bar top makes it quite clear that Kappa Delta, does in fact, kick ass. Every square inch of wall space bears similar taunts from different fraternities and sororities.
As your nausea passes, you eavesdrop on a conversation that the two middle-aged men next to you are engaged in. "Man, this place just ain't what it used to be, I tell you what," one says. What this place really is varies depending on who you're talking to.
The Rock Chalk Cafe. The New Haven. The Flagship International. The Ark. The Catfish Bar and Grill. The Hawk's Crossing.
You and I simply know it as The Crossing.
--wife, Peggy, who still lives in Lawrence, said that when they first bought the Rock Chalk, you could order a hamburger for 15 cents and a beer for a quarter. It was during this time in the mid-1950s that the Beat culture began to burgeon. The Rock Chalk became a popular hangout for Beatniks in Lawrence, and it is even rumored that there are pictures of Alan Ginsburg and William Burroughs sitting in front of the building.
Early history and details are sketchy, but accounts of the building date as far back as 1920 when it served as a malt and burger shop. The design, which has changed numerous times over the years, was radically different originally. When it was known as the Rock Chalk Cafe, the building resembled a classic diner.
It wasn't until Virgil Cooper bought the Rock Chalk in 1954 that it began selling beer. Cooper's
The Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity house was located behind the Rock Chalk in those days so Pike members would often hang out there, too. Wayne Propst, who worked at and frequented the Rock Chalk in the late 1960s and early 1970s, recalls hearing stories about its Beatnik days. "It was just a completely different time and place," Propst says. "You'd walk in, and on the left side there'd be Beatniks playing chess and arguing about Marxism, and on the right side there'd be frat boys chugging beers."
The fraternity relocated, however, because they began to lose members to, as Propst says, "pot, alcohol and chess." As the 1950s faded, so did the Beat scene. But the advent of the 1960s brought a whole new scene to the Rock Chalk.
The hippies had arrived.
"I met Hugo in 1965 after he'd gotten his false eye...Another time in the Rock Chalk he was sitting with me and a really nice girl. We were just talking. And she had the misfortune to say, 'Would you keep an eye on my purse while I go to the bathroom?' When she came back she found Hugo's glass eye on her purse. He was always popping that thing out for a joke. Most people didn't think it
was funny."
This is the kind of thing that you'd expect to find at the Rock Chalk in the 1960s. The excerpt, from the book, Cows Are Freaky When They Look at You, details a group of people known as the Kaw Valley Hemp Pickers, an informal outlaw organization.
Jeff Morrow, owner of The Crossing in the early 1980s, says the group was, in essence, a bunch of wild, crazy hippies who resided in Lawrence during the 1960s and hung out at the Rock Chalk and a neighboring bar, The Gaslight. "These were the type of people that you'd find there at this point," Morrow says. "They'd be wearing gun belts and holding pigs' heads posing for pictures on the lawn of the Ecumenical Christian Ministry building across the street. It was just unbelievable stuff."
As the hippie scene developed, it became increasingly infiltrated with outlaws and criminals. Drugs, especially LSD and pot, became overwhelmingly prevalent within the scene. "The notion of the so-called flower child is dead wrong," Propst says. "It wasn't like 'peace and love' — it was like, 'bring it on mother fucker!'" It got to the point where even the police were afraid to get involved.
In the late 1960s as the Vietnam War and other tensions were at their height, so was activity at the Rock Chalk. All the excitement began to take a toll on Cooper, who still owned and operated the Rock Chalk, so he decided to sell the business in 1968. Propst says he believes that everything that was constantly going on around Cooper indirectly caused him to lose his mind.
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9 2.5.04 JerryBoy