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Posted on 07/03/2003 10:44:39 AM PDT by Drew68

Johnson: For Bart's, ban on smoking is a killer

June 28, 2003

So who is going to march on City Hall and scream for Robert Mannion's rights?

The answer, of course, is no one. Indeed, Robert Mannion had no rights when it came to the conduct of his restaurant. It was the city's way, or the highway. And that is how this man's restaurant died.

Smoking killed it. Rather, it was the lack of it that forced its quick demise.

Less than a year after the city of Louisville enacted a no-smoking ordinance in all restaurants, Bart's, a fixture in the town for nearly three decades, shut its doors last week.

It had in recent months become a deserted shell of its former self. The bar, like many in Louisville restaurants these days, stood empty all day.

Robert Mannion tried virtually everything to resuscitate his business.

He drastically cut the price of his once-popular Sunday buffet, began offering 2-for-1 deals on supper, and even started a Bart's newsletter, mailing it to every local address he could locate.

In each one, he included a coupon for 20 percent-off on meals. It didn't work.

I have written of Bart's before, to illustrate the pitfalls of nonsmoking ordinances of the type with which Denver now struggles. Should it be the city's or the restaurant operator's call on smoking?

Robert Mannion had lost 99 percent of his smoking clientele after the ordinance passed, he said, the folks who once filled the place on Fridays, on the weekend and, particularly, on game days.

Their loss, he acknowledged, was killing him. And without a viable bar business, he couldn't offset his food costs.

I sort of knew Bart's would never survive. After I wrote about him the first time, even his beer suppliers called or e-mailed me, saying their trade there was but a fraction of even two years ago.

In the bars and hangouts in the towns around Louisville, you bring up the name Bart's and people tell you how they used to go there, how they don't now, how they used to really kind of like the joint.

Robert Mannion at first remained hopeful. Sure, he said, business was off some 66 percent since the ordinance went into effect. And it wasn't a good thing.

I still remember the lost look in his eyes when I asked him how long he figured he'd hold out. He just patted my shoulder, breathed a deep sigh and said he didn't know.

It was just before noon when I pulled in front of the place in search of Robert Mannion. Only a large "Closed" sign stood behind the door. And a note:

"Due to circumstances beyond our control, Bart's is closed indefinitely. We thank you for your support and memories."

As I was jotting this down, Howard Rose, 52, walked up and tugged on the restaurant's front door. I told him the news.

"I didn't know," he said, almost crestfallen. He runs an industrial supply business just up the road, and ate at Bart's at least once a week.

"I am sensitive to cigarette smoke," Howard Rose said, "but I still came. I never had a real problem because Robert was always really good about separating the smoke in the nonsmoking area."

And then there was Frank Gregg. He'd been coming to Bart's with his wife twice a week. You know, the coupons and all.

"Gone. Closed its doors," he spat.

See, he knew the actual Bart, the guy who opened the place all those years ago, a man who gave him a job 17 years ago playing guitar just off the bar area.

"When I started playing, StorageTek was in its heydey, and Friday nights would be packed. Sixty to 80 people in the bar, alone."

Even when StorageTek began laying off workers, the place still would have half as many people in the door, he said.

And it would remain that way. Until the smoking ban arrived.

"I'll always love that place," Frank Gregg said softly. "It gave me the most wonderful thing I'll ever receive in my life."

He met his wife there.

I never did find Robert Mannion. Phone calls and e-mail have gone unreturned.

I remember him telling me only weeks ago, as we stood in his empty, eerily quiet bar, how he did feel better in recent months. That maybe the anti-smoking people had a point.

After more than a decade working and hustling about smokers in his restaurant, his clothes no longer reeked of cigarette smoke.

He truly believed, he said, he was breathing better.

See, I wanted to ask Robert Mannion what he was thinking today. Was it, on balance, worth it?

Or was it - allowing people to smoke in his restaurant - a call he'd rather have made?

Bill Johnson's column appears Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. Call him at (303) 892-2763 or e-mail him at johnsonw@RockyMountainNews.com

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