Max Gutstein, fourth from left, holding beer bottle atop
stacked cases of beer.
My grandfather, Max Gutstein, along with his partners,
became the first Manhattan pub owners to reintroduce beer after prohibition ended
in December, 1933. A photographer for the
New
York World-Telegram and Sun captured the garrulous scene outside the Tri-R
Restaurant on 33
rd Street between Fifth Avenue and Broadway, but
steps from the Empire State Building. The next day, the newspaper ran the photo
beneath a headline, “Beer Back On Broadway.” Tri-R, the pub’s name, apparently
asked New Yorkers to try the restaurant, which featured three owners, “Tri”,
who also comprised the “R” for “our.” While a copy of the newspaper has not
survived, my grandfather maintained a copy of the photograph, which he handed
down to
my dad, Marty.
My grandfather emigrated to the United States in 1914,
riding in the steerage deck of a steamship toward the end of July, including
the very day, July 28th, when World War I broke out in Europe. He
arrived at Ellis Island known as Max Sternberg, retaining, until then, his
mother’s maiden name, as authorities in Galicia did not recognize marriages between
Jews. Once established in the States, he changed his last name to his father’s
name. Like many poor immigrants, Max relied upon family members who had
preceded him, including sisters, as well as a benevolent association comprised
of villagers from his hometown, Halych. He worked in restaurants, so he could
have access to food; eventually he enlisted partners to open the Tri-R, which
was, by my father’s account, an everyday bar and grill.
A casual inspection of the photograph reveals the origins of
the beer that Max and his partners had obtained for the occasion. According to West Side Rag, the Lion Brewery of New
York City operated for nearly 100 years on New York’s Upper West Side,
occupying a large chunk of land and containing, at times, “a park, hotel,
brewery, maltings, ice-houses, stables, workshops, and private residences.” The
Wikipedia entry for the brewery describes its chief output as “lagered beer”,
popular among German immigrants. Both sources speculate on developments that
hurt the brewery’s business—the anti-saloon movement as well as prohibition. Lion
Brewery closed around 1941, with the steel in its buildings eventually recycled
for the (World War II) war effort.
I never knew my grandfather, Max, who passed away before I
was born, but I regard this photograph as one of the most important family
heirlooms, a monument to convivial community celebration. It pleases me quite a
bit to see all the patrons and passers-by mugging for the camera or smiling out
of some small joy. And my grandfather there, proud and safe, in the middle.
