Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells
– Pink Floyd – Time
Whenever I hear the song Centerfield by Fogerty I’m transported back to 1985 at our college dive bar – The Jailhouse. It was knocked down a few years later to be replaced by a university classroom building. It was located on Market Street between 30th and 31st. It defined what a true college dive bar should look like. It was dark, dirty and the pitchers of beer were cheap and plentiful.
My buddies and I had just won the intramural softball championship at the dilapidated baseball fields at 45th and Market, in the shadow of the low income housing towers where no white person would dare go near. We were all 21 or 22 years old, with our entire lives ahead of us, and not a care in the world. We headed to the Jailhouse to celebrate our epic victory, which would stand the test of time.
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