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For a full generation before the Stonewall Riots, owners Angelo and Bettie Aiello were creating a safe and harassment-free haven for Milwaukee’s emerging LGBTQ population. What it lacked in size and statute, the Mint Bar made up with enthusiastic heart and soul.Īt the same time, the Mint Bar would be considered a local historic landmark. The building was only 51 by 50 feet in size – far smaller than the average Starbucks – and its linoleum floors and faded walls had barely been remodeled since its days as an A. There was absolutely nothing fancy about it. Today, the Mint Bar would be considered a dive bar. PHOTO: Collections of the Milwaukee Public Library There’s no tribute of any kind to one of the earliest and brightest-burning beacons of LGBTQ Milwaukee or the kind and generous owners who made it all possible. Thirty-one years after its demolition, there’s no evidence the Mint Bar even existed. I may have been 12 years old, but the Mint Bar suddenly sounded amazing.ĭuring the great Downtown reinvention of the 1980s, dozens and dozens of buildings disappeared from the heart of Milwaukee. When the bartender complimented us for being 'convincing queens,' we suddenly realized we were in a gay bar, and everyone thought we were female impersonators." "There were no other women in the bar," my mother said, "and the only man who approached us was more interested in our wigs than our age. They thought they were mighty cool, being served underage, until they had a moment of clarity. After their shopping spree, they went over to the Mint Bar for drinks. Years later, my mother revealed something hilarious to me: As a teenager, she and her friends had gone Downtown and gotten "dolled up" at the Boston Store with cosmetics, wigs and fancy dresses. Somehow, the Mint Bar had a mysterious power to terrify and thrill people. I’d hear Folk Fair patrons making rude and confusing remarks under their breath as they hurriedly walked past in judgment. I’d always wonder what was going on inside this oddball little tavern. The ritual was the same every year: My family would drive Downtown in one very packed vehicle, park in the seemingly endless surface lot on 4 th and State, and walk down 4 th Street to MECCA.Įvery year, I’d catch a glimpse of people standing outside the Mint Bar, 422 W. When I was a child, my family made an expedition to the Holiday Folk Fair every November. "For years, if anyone bothered to think of it all, the gay community in Milwaukee was thought to consist of some guys hanging around Juneau Park restrooms or sitting in a seedy little tavern across from the Arena." – columnist Joel McNally, Milwaukee Journal, August 7, 1977