I have always taken an interest in those bars and
restaurants that were in another lifetime places that
served a very different purpose: churches that were
converted into dance clubs, train stations that became
taverns, brewpubs that were constructed from industrial
buildings, and the parlors of once stately homes that are
now comfortable pubs. But during my travels I have only
twice come upon a former schoolhouse that was to find new
life as a public house. For someone who spent a good deal
of his adolescent education attempting to introduce
libations into the learning process, these particular
settings evoke a certain fond satisfaction.
During our first year of publication we featured one of
New England’s most revered taprooms, the Griswold
Inn in Essex, Connecticut. The section of the
building that houses the original tavern room began its
existence as an 18th century schoolhouse that, with the
help of some muscular chaps, a few logs and a bit of
Yankee ingenuity, was rolled down Main Street and attached
to the existing inn. There were I suspect a few alumni on
hand that applauded the school’s conversion to a place
dedicated to some higher education. But since my forays
into New England are few and far between these days, I was
very pleased to discover that there was a great bar with a
similar pedigree within striking distance of my home in
New Jersey.
The Stover School was that classic one-room schoolhouse
that began providing the youngsters of Quakertown and the
neighboring hamlets with a formal education in the late
1800s. But perhaps being a bit more indicative of the
qualities of those sturdy German and Dutch farmers that
settled this area of Pennsylvania, the school was built of
stone, as opposed to those clapboard style buildings that
dotted the landscape of much of rural America. Today one
can appreciate the beauty of the original stonework thanks
in part to the masonry talents of Ray Niemy, a beloved and
respected regular, who took part in the building’s
restoration a number of years ago while the tavern was
still operating as Cappies. More recently the property was
purchased by Mona and John Becker, who changed the name of
the business to Becker’s Corner,
and who were also responsible for the outstanding
additional improvements to the bar’s interior.
A couple of weeks back, I caught up with Ray Niemy at
Becker’s. He
admitted to me that he was well under the legal drinking
age when he was first served there. But back in 1937, his
teacher at the Stover School was serving milk and cookies
instead of Budweiser. We spoke at length about the changes
and varied experiences one is a party to during a lifetime
that had spanned some eighty years. In between his
insights, I received a great tutorial about microbrews
from the always congenial Kirsten, who is behind the bar
on most weekdays. Her knowledge of beer rivals anyone in
the industry. And this is only fitting, since it was the
ladies of the house that were mostly responsible for the
brewing of beer during our nation’s colonial period.
Kirsten is the weekday bartender
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After some enlightening conversation, and having allowed
the hops from a couple of pints of Sly Fox IPA to work
their magic, I wandered over to nearby Lake
Nockamixon. From the shoreline I enjoyed the fading
light of an early September evening as a mother duck
watched over her young, and across the water an
experienced helmsman attempted to show a novice sailor the
ropes. These surrounding reminded me that in this life
there is always something new to be learned from those
that have traveled the road before us, and at Becker’s
Corner—school is always in session—and the education is
always a very pleasant experience!
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Ray Niemy
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