MARSHALL’S TAVERN - A LEGEND ON THE SQUARE

The vintage building with its scarlet neon light sat on the Northeast alleyway of the square.  The narrow structure occupied more than space on the square;  to this day, it occupies a place in our hearts. Not just because of the ambiance and camaraderie; not only because of Schlitz on tap;  the crisp, mouthwatering onion rings; or because of the perfectly fried chicken first to be served in a basket; certainly not just because Mom Marshall had a secret recipe for apple pie that people drove miles to taste; or because their signature Au gratin potatoes have never been equaled. No – Orville Bliss Marshall and his bride Julia, created a legacy that no other eating and drinking establishment in the state has been able to duplicate.  Marshall’s Tavern with its logo –You will always find us on the Square – set the standard.

Orville and Julie (Miss Peoria in 1929) married in 1937.  Their first love was family:  Patricia, born 1932; Ronald –1934; Jim -1938; Eddie -1942; Sally-1944; Larry -1948, and baby Suzy- 1951.  The family grew when Orv’s sister Irma died early and her husband Lynn passed unexpectedly.  Mom Marshall (Orv’s mother) welcomed home those six grandchildren to love:  Firstborn Judy- 1938, Jerry-1939, Janet-1940, Johnny-1942, Jeff -1944, and baby Joyce-1945. Gram Marshall developed some health issues so Orville, his two sisters Flossie Lorengo and Bernice Thrailkill, welcomed two each of six the Gordon children into their homes.  Interestingly, the statement “It takes a village” was coined within the past few years, yet that is exactly what this family accomplished more than 60 years ago.  Suzy Marshall, Joyce Gordon Underwood and Judy Gordon Koch spoke recently about how they felt as if they had brothers and sisters instead of cousins, and what a wonderful part the Marshall business played in their lives. 

Orv and Julie acquired the building and business around 1937, the same year of their marriage. Because of his business acumen, Orv was elected as President of the Tazewell County Tavern Owners’ Association which was headquartered in the state capital.  The steps were in motion to make history.

A busy Saturday or Sunday night found patrons, which often included Springfield officials, local celebrities of television and radio, and loyal Washington families, queued around the north side of the square to N. Main Street. (near Faire Coffee).  Marshall’s reputation reached far..a drive from Chicago, St. Louis, Moline or Indianapolis wasn’t unusual.  There were two entrances to the tavern:  One just off the alley (east parking lot now) where a quick right would take you into the dining room with its spacious polished wood booths and square formica tables. In the 30’s, 40’s and 50’s, women (unmarried women, teachers, nurses for example) utilized the side entrance as any bar was off limits. Walking in the front door under the neon sign, there was a convenient pay telephone just to the left of the entryway.  First the storm door, a small vestibule and then a second heavy wooden door that kept cold air from the backs of bar patrons. The oval shaped bar took up almost all of the space as you entered, and it was a thing of beauty. The cash register and top shelf liquor rested in the middle with an opening at the north end for the waitress station near the jukebox. Mom Marshall was the hostess; Chuck Lorengo cooked during the day and Big John Behrends at night.  The regulars, alongside city officials, businessmen and bankers, lawyers, and factory workers, conversed across, up and down the bar.  Waiting for a table might find a mom and freckle faced kids perched on the red vinyl chrome bar stools with dad standing behind.  Orv and his crew never discriminated.  Kids received a Shirley Temple with the same service as if you were ordering a whiskey neat, dry martini or a bottle of beer.  Businesses today wouldn’t tolerate a free kiddie cocktail patron over a real customer. After basketball and football games, it was a veritable who’s who in the sports world at WACOHI.  One snowy night, a sleigh drawn by horses pulled into the alley and unloaded rosy cheeked youngsters who were treated to hot chocolate in the dining room.   Many mornings Herman Essig and other businessmen sauntered over to the tavern for a cup of freshly brewed coffee, homemade rolls and good conversation with Mom Marshall.

Orv and Julie employed waitresses who were all about customer service; they dressed in white, pink or light blue short sleeved dresses with fancy handkerchiefs resembling lacy flowers. Betty Rosenberg along with her “sisters in service” bustled about from table to booth deftly keeping up with orders. A shout to the kitchen wasn’t unusual.

Mom Marshall occupied the apartment above the establishment. She had a sitting room, dining room, a couple of small bedrooms.  The bay window looked out upon the square and grandkids were sometimes known to crawl out the 2nd floor window over to the projection room of the theater next door. At times, the grandkids exhorted customers with:  “Don’t go to the Spot – come to Marshall’s.”  The Spot was a tavern sitting where Essig Law Offices are now.  The kids found entertainment in one form or another. Gram’s front steps led left to a large landing and a curtained closet held treasures for the kids. Joyce, Jeff and Johnny set up tv trays and pretended to sell Christmas cards; Suzy executed a game where she owned all the businesses around the square. Joyce began working at Marshall’s as early as 10, and those first duties included dusting liquor bottles; then a promotion to washing dishes. Her favorite job was working out back in the little building that was the “bottle room” where bottles were recycled. Most of the grandkids worked the Fall Festival as Marshall’s had a tent to sell their famous Pronto Pups. Not to be confused with Corn Dogs – Pronto Pups are steps above!  Plump wieners skewered on a pointed stick (thanks to Tom Hexamer who spent copious hours in the basement of the tavern getting them ready for the Fall Festival) – dipped in a fluffy, flour batter and fried to a delicious golden brown.  Another record in the making.

However, life had plans of its own.  Tragedy was no stranger to the Marshall family. January 2, 1954 - Eddie Marshall, just 11 years old, succumbed to injuries suffered in a car accident east of town on Route 24 when a regular at the bar, John Norton, revealed to Eddie how fast his 1950 Jaguar was. Hauntingly,  Edward T. Marshall, Eddie’s grandfather and for whom he was named, died in a collision while demonstrating a new Chevrolet (and bringing his daughter Bernice and her husband Paul Thrailkill home to a family dinner) near the very same spot in 1935.  In 1961, Orville passed bringing another huge loss to his wife, family and friends. As expected, Julie continued their beloved vocation by hiring managers to keep things afloat.  Another blow was dealt in 1964 when Julie died of a heart attack. I guess Orville missed her!  The family and a city was left to handle the void.

As the contemporaries of Orv and Julie all passed, and as close as the family can recall, Roger Klein managed the bar for Julie. Hubert Lee,  former operator of the Casino Gardens east of town took over after Julie passed, renaming it “Lee’s Tavern”.  Morse Turner, owner of the Tazewell Theater, subsequently acquired only the building around 1967.  Over the years, Frankie Johnson tried to revive Marshall’s, and then Frank and Ginny Smith attempted to resuscitate the restaurant.  But, things just weren’t the same.  Somehow, Orv and Julie had crafted a business that wasn’t just a tavern selling spirits and food– it was a combination of the people, the laughter, love and yes -a first rate menu!

3:30 a.m., December 17, 1975: The temperature outside was between 9 and 14 degrees, and the wind was ferocious. Sparks flew as far south as the Post Office. The iconic business location of Marshall’s was on fire.  After 11 hours of battling the intense flames, a loss of $45,000 was assessed.  No trace of the building exists today.  The story lives on in so many of the descendants, and you see them in every crowd – every space in Washington.  Suzy dreams about opening up another Marshall’s.  There are legions of us who wish she would.