The Last of the Western Cowboy Saloons

If there’s anyone out there who thinks the Western Cowboy Saloon was something known only to the nineteenth century – they’re dead wrong. During the 1960s and 70s, I spent a great deal of time in what I now call, “The Last of the Western Cowboy Saloons.”

The small sign on roof over the front door read: The Backstage. It looked pretty run-down – maybe even seedy – and it was awfully dark inside, except for a narrow strip of a room attached to one side which housed a small coffee shop; one that specialized in Mexican food. The bar itself afforded nothing unusual – it could have been set anywhere in the United States, with its mahogany bar, maple tables, red Naugahyde-covered stools and three booths. The mirrors on the walls were blurry and smoke stained, and there were a pair of dinky restrooms out back.

There was only one thing that made this establishment stand out from any of the other bars in the Hollywood vicinity – its location.  The Backstage was situated directly across the street from the main entrance to the CBS Studio Center, which at one time had been the main studio lot for Republic Pictures: home of the B-Western.

When I first saw The Backstage in 1964 I was underage and naïve. To my 20-year-old eyes the chipped stucco-covered structure at the corner of Hoffman Street and Radford Avenue in Studio City appeared to be a den of sin: with its loud music and boisterous male laughter booming continuously from inside the darkened doorway. I told myself right then that I’d better stay away from places like that.

Three years later I went to work at CBS Studio Center. I had been hired as a costume set man for a new series titled, Dundee and the Culhane – a TV Western produced by Sam Rolf, creator of Have Gun Will Travel.  Dundee and the Culhane starred English actor John Mills and a newcomer by the name of Sean Garrison. By that time I had sampled more than a few beers myself, having spent the two previous seasons working the proverbial 20-hour days on TVs The Fugitive as costumer to David Janssen; so when my first day’s work at Studio Center came to an end I didn’t think twice before crossing the street for a “quick one” at the now innocent-looking Backstage.

Inside was a different story. It was a scene right out of a Western movie – a sea of cowboy hats, leather vests, high-heeled boots, spurs and denim packed into the very small area. Cigar and cigarette smoke hung heavy from the ceiling, and at several tables and booths gambling was in process.  No, not faro or those other 19th century games of chance, but a simple little diversion called liar’s poker.

In 1967, CBS Studio Center played host to quite a few television Western series: Gunsmoke, with James Arness, Amanda Blake, Milburn Stone, Ken Curtis and Buck Taylor; The Wild, Wild West, starring Robert Conrad and Ross Martin; Stuart Whitman’s Cimarron Strip; The Big Valley, starring Barbara Stanwick, Peter Breck, Richard Long, Linda Evans, and Lee Majors; plus the show I was working on, Dundee and the Culhane. 

Besides the main cast of stars, these shows also employed many guest stars, stuntmen and bit actors, as well as extras playing townspeople and the horse wranglers – all cowboys, at least in spirit. It was this rowdy crowd of Hollywood movie people who frequented The Backstage – it seemed like every day and night. Plus, there were the crews, myself included; nearly everyone who worked at Studio Center stopped in at the Backstage at one time or another. And Studio Center also rented its numerous Western sets to companies from other studios which attracted even more cowboy actors, extras, stuntman, and movie crews to the bar.

Lunchtime brought a welcome addition: The casts and crews from the sit-coms and family shows that were filming on the CBS lot.  On numerous occasions you could see Mary Tyler Moore, Cloris Leachman, Ed Asner, and the rest of the bunch from The Mary Tyler Moore Show’s newsroom enjoying themselves in the corner booth. Anissa Jones and Johnny Whitaker, the child stars of Family Affair, might be seen eating with their parents or guardians. Don Grady, Stanley Livingston, and William Demarest from My Three Sons dropped in from time to time for tacos; and there were many others.

I particularly enjoyed seeing the bad guys and character actors: Ken Swofford; Morgan Woodward; Victor French; Don Stroud; Royal Dano; Harry Carey, Jr.; Mills Watson; John Dehner; Ken Mayer; Peter Whitney; Jim Davis; Forrest Tucker; Shug Fisher; Strother Martin, L.Q. Jones, and my favorite, Jack Elam, the liar’s poker champion – in addition to a slew of other very familiar faces. We all became good friends. Well, maybe that’s a stretch. At least we all had one thing in common – The Backstage.

The bartender was a man by the name of Joe Sulzinger. Joe the Bartender, we called him. Somehow Joe held the place together; even when someone got out of line. There were shouting matches, fist fights, several real knockdown drag-outs, some injuries; and one time rumor got out that someone was even gunning for someone. Joe just locked the door. Nothing ever happened.

I frequented The Backstage over a period of twelve years – from the rip-roaring days of the television Western, through the movie-of-the-week craze. I never found another saloon like it, whether it was in Wyoming, Colorado, or Texas. That was probably because I automatically knew everyone there. Even if it was your first time in the place, you felt at home. It was like walking into the middle of a Western movie – all your favorite cowboys were right there looking just like they did on the screen.

In the late 70s, the owner of The Backstage passed away. He was Joe the bartender’s uncle but he didn’t leave the place to Joe. The saloon was sold to a couple of guys from back east and it continued to enjoy minor success for a few more years. Then it faded away – at least for the Western show business crowd. They all headed off in their own directions – some to new bars; some to retirement; some to their final resting place. That’s the main reason why I now call The Backstage “The Last of the Western Cowboy Saloons.”  Like the Western itself, there’ll never be another one like it.