WALLS FALL, MEMORIES STAY
The Island Pub demolished
By TRINA “INDI” JOHNSON
Special to the PRESS
The demolition of a familiar building on the Island has left behind more than an empty lot. For longtime residents, the space carries a layered history—one built less on records and more on recollections, laughter, and late nights that still spark conversation.
Dozens of Islanders shared their memories of what was last The Island Pub in a lively Facebook thread after the demolition. Many posts came from personal profiles, business pages, or community group accounts, capturing the building’s many lives and the people who made it memorable.
“It was originally the second gas station on the Island, owned by Toni Landrum’s father,” recalled Abovesight Aerial-Photography on Facebook. “I was seven years old when I heard the explosion after a worker welded a propane tank. I turned to see a mushroom cloud in the sky.” Newspaper reports confirm the tragedy: George Marvin Landrum died from injuries sustained in the June 18, 1973, explosion at the service station, which also claimed the life of John Mathys. The station was two miles north of the causeway on Park Road 100, and the blast centered around a high-pressure tank of volatile fluid in the shop.
From there, the building shifted through identities. According to Geoff Clifton, who pieced together a timeline of its history, it began as a gas station before serving as a real estate office, then The Veranda, followed by the Officer’s Club, the Island Pub, a short-lived sports bar, Crawdaddy’s, and eventually a ticket sales office.
The Island Pub years stand out most vividly. A liquor license notice dated July 1991 confirms its rise in that period. Clifton recalled, “The people would get off the plane and they would ask the cab drivers, ‘Where do I go on the island?’ They would say, ‘Oh, you need to go to the Island Pub.’ So it was kind of a dive bar, but it became a party bar.”
It was also a hub for live music. “All the local bands played there, including some famous ones, like the Mesquite Bean Band,” Clifton said.
Michael Sularz, who frequented the pub, remembered its quirks well. “There were stairs leading up to the entrance—about eight of them. A funny thing that went around is we would all, at some time, ‘fall up’ those stairs. I suppose in such a hurry to get a drink before 2 a.m.”
Others who shared their recollections on Facebook painted the same picture of nights packed with people. Sherrie Gomez recalled, “Good times had at Pub 30—and poor decisions made,” while others remembered the sign above the bar that warned, “NO SLACK CUT HERE.” Bartenders like Jackie, Jody, and Meg became fixtures, the kind of names locals still recall with ease.
The building also wore other names. Arlene Stelzer remembered, “When it was Sneakers, Jackie first introduced her burgers.” Other Facebook users noted a sushi restaurant, though no one is quite sure if it was Kohnami or Uchi. Samantha Jo Finney-Delgado remembered it as Uchi, while Christina Helmke Esparza thought it might have been Kohnami.
Ownership shifted too. Sonny’s Beach Service, Inc. posted, “Island Pub was owned by Bill Donahue, Sonny Gentry and David Peeples,” with Vickie Puliam Gentry adding, “Then it was sold to Louie’s Backyard.” In the 1990s, Crawdaddy’s opened under Pam and Lea, according to Joe Ricco. And older Islanders recalled a time when it housed law offices and real estate businesses.
Whatever its name or use, the building became more than walls and beams. It was a place where neighbors turned into friends, music carried into the street, and community lived in the simple act of gathering together. Now, as the lot prepares for a new chapter, the site is set to continue that tradition. According to local historian Steve Hathcock, Jacki Surojon, who purchased the building around 2015, plans a 4,000-square-foot structure with multiple spaces on the ground floor and large apartments above. While details are still emerging, residents can take heart that the site will remain a vibrant part of Island life, carrying forward the energy, connection, and shared memories that made the old building so beloved.
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