It hit the rumor mill a bit too late – no time to take up a collection at the bar to put in a sizable offer-but I can’t imagine a soul who wouldn’t have wanted to. This isn’t just a bar we’re talking about, this is a way of life, a Sag Harbor institution, literally a ‘Corner-stone’. The sad news has sent shock waves across the country and I think there is quite a bit of heartache wherever you turn. No number of words could encapsulate this sudden seismic shift-this upheaval, this alteration to our way of life and who we are as a community.

It's more than just an edifice- it’s all the names written on the brick wall in colored chalk-all of the first drinks and last calls - wedding toasts and birthday roasts and sad farewells. It’s first love, last rounds - beginnings and endings- and whole lives lived. It’s date nights, class reunions, it’s burgers and wings and above all it is friendships carved shoulder to shoulder over a lifetime of years.

There is no one who would call this ‘just a bar’ – it has been a place to come home to after you’ve been away for a day or a year or even a decade or two. An establishment to visit alone or with your tribe and if you’re lucky enough to find a seat at the bar - it comes complete with a conversation that bridges generations and miles. Filled with the notorious and the legendary one never knows who they might be sitting next to. Bartenders that always knew your preferred swill which landed in front of you before your backside hit the chair.

Jim Smyth’s dream of community included a place where hopefully everyone could afford to share a meal – generations of sports teams proudly wearing Corner Bar Jerseys were supported by his generosity and vision. Employing nearly everyone in town at one time or another -managers, waiters and bartenders, cooks and bussers, locals and summer kids-Jim created a family whose bonds remain intact. I spent a summer or two taking orders and clearing tables -helping to pay off college loans and guitar strings. Many musicians got their start right there in the Corner’s front window. They say it takes a village-and to Jim this was his village – to support, encourage and stand up for. He had a way of believing in people and seeing their light.

There are those who might not have been touched by its magic- who never stood on or at the bar to sing – “Bye, Bye Miss American Pie”, those who never had a Corner Burger or mussels with white wine sauce -those who didn’t scurry in at the first sign of snow or get to tape the windows for an ensuing hurricane. There may be those who never felt a part of the family- who never wore the tee-shirt or raced on the whaleboat team, who never filled in a box for the football pool, or ran in for some takeout food. No, this wasn’t just a barroom -this was an anchorage, a mooring, a landing hone into home.

The Corner will not be our only well-loved establishment to raise the white flag- but beneath the unfurling - leaves a preponderance of broken hearts, unemployed and disheartened. We are grateful to those who kept it open through the years-364 days a year-a dependable, welcoming, homebase. No one denies the owners a chance to move on – these are challenging times- and change is certainly one thing we can count on - but I begin to wonder - how much change can one village sustain and still remain intact? How many blows to our way of life will leave us still standing? Change may be a certainty -but too much, too soon, too close to home carries a weight that is hard to bear.

The Corner Bar housed a spirit of its own- I’m pretty sure that souls are not exclusive to humans. I will cherish my time there-the ritual of having a bowl of chili with my family after picking out our Christmas tree each year, where I sang and waitressed and shot a good game of pool in the back- this is where I began those first conversations with my now husband of 35 years, and this is the place where he found friendship, camaraderie and belonging – an hour or two to escape the every-day of everyday and laugh and tell stories and grab some chowder to go. It may not be your way of life – and as concerning as this may be to some-it was part of ours- and it will surely be missed beyond measure. There were friendships fashioned there that sustained the loneliness of life and encircled the gift of time- kindness ready to step in when you may have needed it the most. In a world of declining community-the Corner created its own.

We send our best wishes to all whose lives and livelihoods are impacted by this change- may the spirit of Sag Harbor continue to shine through every storm, and change, and each soul missing at the table. The Corner has painted a colorful backdrop for our lives-and it will always remain in a lifetime of our memories.