MARYHILL – The longtime owner of a country bar in nearby Maryhill says he is doing something he never thought was possible by putting the 166-year-old building up for sale.
The Commercial Tavern outdates confederation by more than a decade and is on the market for the first time since 1996. That’s when musician Paul Weber purchased the landmark at the crossroads of the hamlet.
It was a homecoming of sorts for Weber — he used to play on the stage as a child with his family when it was owned by his uncle Vic Diebold in the 1960s.
“They called it Vic’s place at that point, but there’s been a few owners in between,” said Weber.
Although it has operated under a few different names over the years, Weber said it has been a tavern and music venue since the day it was built in 1854.
After spending 22 years as a musician, Weber purchased the building. He said a career on the road set him up for success as an owner.
“I worked 50 weeks a year for 22 years, six and seven nights a week. I took two weeks off a year and other than that we played — and we went hard. We went up and down the highway like madmen,” said Weber.
He played all across Canada and through much of Europe and spent time in Nashville recording albums.
“I loved the road, I loved the music,” said Weber. “I just decided to quit it before it quit me.”
Fellow musician and mentor Dallas Harms once told Weber he could use the first half of his life as a musician to set up the last half as a bar owner, bring in the acts he wanted to hear while still getting up on stage when he wanted to.
“I never forgot that,” said Weber. “I was just really lucky that I was able to keep as much music in my life as I wanted to.”
Having spent his whole life playing in bars, Weber said he learned how to treat people, how to read a room and how to take care of business when a fight breaks out.
“I tried to do things right, I tried to be fair to people — the bands and the patrons — and I think my experience on the road helped to do that,” he said. “Good people want to be around where there’s no trouble and no fighting. In the old days there was a lot of fighting and we tried to look after it the best we could.”
At the time he took over, the bar didn’t have a set format and featured all kinds of acts, but Weber narrowed the focus to country music and it has operated as a country bar ever since.
“On the road we played a lot of stuff but when I got here I started just playing country again,” he said.
The walls were bare when he took it over, but over the years Weber filled just about every inch with photos, memorabilia and everything in between. He isn’t sure what will happen to all of the artifacts he has collected once he walks away for good.
“Some of it was donated to me. Most of them people are gone but I would give them the option to get them back,” said Weber. “Probably three or four years ago I started running out of room and I quit adding things.”
Everything in the room reminds him of something. One wall acts as a shrine, covered in photos of friends and family he has lost over the years.
“This is a wall you don’t want to be on. Everybody on it is gone but me,” said Weber.
The floor space directly in front of the stage is also a place of honour, marked with the first names or initials of musicians who have passed, some famous and some not. The first name he added was his father Howard ‘Smoky’ Weber, who died in 2006.
“My dad stood on that stage and sang six songs and walked off stage and 17 hours later was in the hospital and was gone,” said Weber.
Stomping’ Tom Connors’ initials are part of that memorial, burned about a foot away from the spittoon.
“I think he would have wanted it that way,” said Weber, chuckling.
Weber put new floors in after he purchased the building, but insisted that they be done in the style of 1800s construction to match the historical features, like the tin ceiling tiles that were made just down the road.
The building was wired for electricity in 1934.
“The bar itself is made of cherry wood and is just a great old classic bar,” he said.
An addition that was built in 1895 once expanded the services in the building, before becoming the pool room and extra seating for the bar about 50 years ago.
“It was a doctor’s office, a bank and telegraph station — so there was lots going on in there,” said Weber.
When he was handed the keys in 1996 Weber was given a warning from its previous owner, Neil Duncan, about a change that was coming down the pipe.
“He told me I was going to have about four good years and then watch out, because in 2000 the smoking bylaw is coming in,” said Weber of the exchange.
Just as predicted, smoking indoors was prohibited and Weber said it had an immediate effect.
“It was ugly and it was awful. It almost cost me my business, it almost cost me more than that,” said Weber. “I had bottles broken over my head — by women of all things.”
It may have been bad for business, but Weber concedes it was the right thing to do.
“I lost friends, I lost money, I lost some sanity but we gained a whole lot of health,” said Weber. “I found after a month without smoking here I could hit notes — I thought it was just wear and tear over the years — I didn’t think it was from smoke.
“As ugly as it was, and as costly as it was — it was the best thing that ever happened.”
Because of COVID-19, the doors have been closed for probably the longest stretch in the tavern’s long history, with the possible exception of the years of prohibition.
"It’s just hard to believe we made it through all the troubles we did and a virus could shut us down,” said Weber. “I am not crying the blues because there are a lot of people who have it a lot worse that we have it.”
Still, the last 14 months has given Weber and his wife Donna the time to consider selling the building, something that would have been unthinkable to him before. The property is zoned commercial C3 with an asking price of $2.9 million.
“I made it through some tough times. I made it through a couple of divorces, custody battles and thanks to friends who helped me out — physically, financially and emotionally — I am still here,” said Weber. “I spent more than 20 years telling people it’s just not for sale.”
“It’s been hard on the heart and hard on the head trying to figure out what to do with this,” he added.
Weber said he has accepted that the eventual new owners may not choose to continue operating as a bar when he signs over the deed.
“You can’t really tell them what you want them to do with it or not want them to do with it,” said Weber. “You never know what it will end up being. I know it will be something because the zoning is so great on it and it’s a great property.”
Once he steps away, Weber said he doesn’t plan on coming back to see what is done with the building.
“That’s the only way I can leave,” said Weber. “If you lose something for one reason or another that you loved and it has been a passion and a big part of your life — sometimes that’s the only way around it is to walk away.”
“I know this much,” he added. “I got 25 years of enjoyment out of it and even the bad times are good.”
