This story begins 27+years ago.   My wife, Teri and son Joe were renting 1/2 of a duplex in Auburn Washington.  We had been living there for a couple of years, going through 2 different neighbors on the other half of the duplex.  Somewhere around 1984 our 3rd set of neighbors (Rick, Tammy and their son David) moved in.  Originally, I was not too keen on taking up a friendship with the new neighbors, as I was pretty antisocial in those days, but Rick was a nice guy, and always wanted to strike up a friendly conversation whenever we would run into each other, typically in the driveway as we were coming or going.  As time progressed Rick and I found that we had a number of things in common, the principle ones being, motorcycles, drinking beer, and the fact that we both had spent time growing up in Sacramento, California.

It came as a surprise that as we were hitting it off as friends that one day Rick more or less disappeared.  I would see him in the driveway and instead of offering me a beer, it was a polite "hi" and "got to go".  At about the same time, my wife Teri and I started hearing all kinds of construction noise coming from the other half of the duplex.  The noise, plus my new friend's evasiveness was really starting to bug me.  This went on for what seemed to be a month.  Then one day Rick called me and asked me to come over to his place, as he had something to show me and to meet him in the driveway we shared in the duplex.  Waiting in the driveway, I was wondering what Rick was up to, Rick opened his garage door to reveal his handiwork.  Rick had built his own little tavern, complete with a bar, neon and other beer related signs and of course, a beer fridge.  I was amazed at his resourcefulness, turning a one car garage into a neat hangout.   Typically I was used to drinking beer on the back porch or while sitting on the sofa, listening to music, but Rick's little tavern quickly became our favorite hangout after a long day at work.   An additional benefit was that we didn't have to drive anywhere to get the tavern atmosphere, so not only was it fun to have "our" own watering hole, but it was practical, keeping us off the road, and out of trouble.         

Over the years we (Rick's family and ours) each moved from the duplex and bought homes in the Puget Sound area.  While we no longer lived next door to each other our friendship grew.  Rick's bar followed us as well, moving  to our (Teri's and my) first home.   We had a 3 stall shop in our backyard, which along with storing the multiple motorcycles and old project cars that I never got around to working on was well suited to house the the bar.  While this version of the bar didn't quite have the atmosphere that the original location in the duplex had, it was still a fun place to hang out.  We spent many an afternoon and evening having fun there.  During the time that the bar was at this location Rick and I took multiple road trips, most often to Sacramento to visit our respective families who still lived there, as well as to the Bay Area, where our friend Robey lives.  I have known Robey since the early 70's and consider him to be the brother I never had as well as the best of friends.  While Robey may have originally been "my" friend, he quickly became Rick's friend as well.   Whenever Rick and I hung out at Robey's house we were "at home".  

In 1994, my wife and I decided to move to another area of Puget Sound, as our old home's location was rapidly becoming a "neighborhood in transition".   After looking at a few homes we found our new home.  It was a new home, 2 stories, (we thought) with an open floor plan in a nice, newer neighborhood.   Imagine our surprise when our realtor called to advise that, unbeknownst to him, the house had an "8 foot crawlspace".   He explained that in order for the house to be built on the lot the builder had to build a basement as a foundation.  Not wanting to invest the money to finish the foundation as a basement, the builder installed a door accessible from the outside only, no windows, or stairs to access the basement space from within the house.  This allowed the basement to be classified as an "8 foot crawlspace".   The fact that the price of our house was the same as similar homes in the neighborhood that didn't have the extra floor sealed the deal for my wife and me.  Coincidently, at the same time, Rick and his wife Tammy were also looking to move to a new home.   They subsequently found the house they were looking for, and as a bonus, it was only a mile or so away from our new place so while we weren't quite "next door"  it was now convenient again for us all to get together.

It didn't take long for Rick and I to decide that the newest version of Rick's bar would go in my basement.  It was my son Joe who came up with the idea of naming the bar "The Crawlspace", using the legal description of the basement space.  Joe also came up with the logo, which prominently features the staircase, leading from the main floor down stairs.  In the first few years we lived in the house the basement remained largely unfinished, save for Rick's beer can collection filling one wall, with the beer neon and a few signs taking up some of the rest of the space.  In those days we had a ping pong table for entertainment, a stereo to listen to, the bar and a big couch.  A few years ago Teri and I decided to buy a pool table to replace the ping pong table.  It was also at this time that we decided to paint and otherwise finish the rest of the basement, installing a false ceiling.  While Teri and I did most of the prep and paint work, Rick installed and wired the ceiling.  Again, a combined effort.  ...........To Be Continued............