I’ll admit it: the idea of packing up and leaving Grants Pass, Oregon, to make a pilgrimage back to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, just to close down Wolski’s Bar may sound like the sort of thing a madman would do. But when it’s a nod to old roots, a salute to the past, and a mission to shout out to PJ—the man who’s probably still behind the bar slinging drinks after 30 years—it becomes something else entirely. A journey of nostalgia, a beer-fueled pilgrimage, and, yes, the strange but real joy of being one of the few (and the proud) to have closed down Wolski’s.
For those unfamiliar, Wolski’s is no ordinary tavern. Tucked away on Milwaukee’s East Side at 1836 N. Pulaski Street—in a city celebrated for its beer, cheese, and bowling—Wolski’s is a dive bar steeped in history, mystery, and unmistakable old-school charm. If you’ve never been, imagine it as the beating heart of Milwaukee’s gritty soul, where neon signs flicker like faded memories and the beer flows as if it’s been on tap since time began. It’s the kind of place where regulars don’t just come for the drinks—they come for the stories. Like the one about the time someone shut the place down for the night.
But why would anyone—especially someone living in Grants Pass—consider making such a ridiculous journey? Aside from their world-famous Moscow Mule, of course. Well, fun fact: I grew up in Milwaukee. Before the Pacific Northwest stole my soul, I was just a kid dodging brutal Midwestern winters and learning the art of snowshoeing while nursing cheap beer in places like Wolski’s. The idea of going back to close that place down, even for just one night, has been gnawing at me for a while—even though I no longer drink. Luckily, they’ve still got bags of chips…