Now it’s a Walgreens. No clutter in Homestead beyond the mass-produced-retail variety.
But right there, at the end of the Homestead Grays Bridge, facing Eighth Street, was Chiodo’s Tavern. Packed full of stuff — beer steins, street signs, statues, helmets, boxing gloves — orders backing up in the kitchen for the Mystery Sandwich, it was home for its regulars. Enough so that no one remembered the owner ever calling the cops.
Joe Chiodo owned the place. For 58 years he poured and talked and collected and corrected people on the proper spelling of his name. Born in Italy in 1918, he moved to Pittsburgh at 9 and always insisted on the proper Italian pronunciation of his last name: KEY-oh-doh. No yinzerization allowed.
Not that he didn’t love him some Steelers, getting a trophy to pass between another bar owner in Cleveland and even getting his face on a Steelers game ticket during the team’s 50th anniversary season because he’d been a season-ticket holder the longest — a block of 36 season tickets had been his as long as he’d had the bar.
Out back, facing the bridge, he had an old streetcar from the 68 line that used to go past Kennywood. It was just the front of the car, but people still stopped to ask to stand in it.
It was one of the first Pittsburgh bars with a wider selection of beer — at least more than the factory workers and college kids had usually seen. It helped show that a different kind of product could sell.
He figured he’d been open so long and become such a destination that everybody had been there, pretty much. And he wasn’t necessarily wrong. Owners of the Pirates, Russian diplomats, and everyone in between, if those things are really so far apart to begin with.
And then, in 2005, it was enough. Open as Chiodo’s since 1947, a bar of some kind since 1890, the place would close as Joe retired.
There was an auction. Some people bought back their old stuff that had been hanging in the bar forever. The recipe for the Mystery Sandwich went for $450. An alligator jaw sold for $110. It was a bar built by just about everyone, so it was easy for bidders to see something of themselves, lot by lot, in what was for sale.
The auction was in April 2005. Joe himself lasted until August 2007, when he died at 89.
Even with the bar gone, even with him gone, those who still call it the High Level Bridge have to work to see the Walgreens. For them that spot will always be Chiodo’s.
I had the privilege of working there from 1998-2000. It was an incredibly neat place and Joe was an incredibly neat person! Lots of great memories as a patron and as an employee.
There was so much history at this bar—–and to lose all of it for a Walgreens, how sad!!!
It’s sad when such an iconic place is lost. I worked for many years at the old Luna Bar in North Oakland. It stood for 75 years at the corner of Centre & Craig, surviving 15 times as long as the amusement park from which it took its name. Generations met, fell in love, toasted lost friends, celebrated graduations…or just a random Thursday night.
Something irreplaceable is lost when a Chiodo’s…or Luna…goes away.
JOe was a great guy ana good friend. WE Would do beer tastings at the bar. ANd sotimes his friend Maro would brin g his homemade winer and salami. one eve we had a reception for cvA> wine maker, Gary Eberle, at the bar. I was paying off a bet on PITt-Penn State game, PItt most often l,ost.
THere qwas a concrete slab in the back that said “Peter Machamer’s an joe chiodo’s vineyard. Because we replanted after some one had just down the grape vines in rthe Italian Garden.
TH bar and Joe are surely missed. HE was one of PIttsburgh’s great characters. ANd there aren’t too many left.
before it was ciodo’s it was Trautman’s. It was owned by Jacob Trautman. .
These are the kinds of places that make life interesting and it’s a travesty that’s it’s just crappy pre-fab retail now. Such a bummer to read this article.
At Chiodo’s closing auction two reps from USSteel came in and told Joe he should give the 6 foot USSteel he had hanging in his beer garden “back to the company because we know it was taken off Mill property without permission.”
Joe said, Up yours, you want it, buy it.
They stayed and when the sign came up for auction a collection of locals outbid them to the tune of 4g grand.
The sign now sits in Pump House park, the only public space in the entire Waterfront property, facing the USSteel research bldg.
interesting! cool tidbit I’ll have to look for it
There was nothing like Mario’s homemade wine. Joe was Pittsburgh. Chiodo’s is truly missed. It was the place to be on St. Josephs Day, March 19.
My wife and I absolutely loved this place. We spent many a night on the back patio and I can say I have ordered a number of Mystery Sandwiches and other great food that was served here. The entire staff was great a Joe was a wonderful man. I was heartbroken when it closed. They closed paradise and put up a Walgreens.
Chiodo’s was such a destination in Homestead. It was a amazing all the items that was collected over the years and it was a fun place to go have a beer. I remember one time a few of us guys started out there having a few beers and tried to have a beer in every bar along the way to the other end of Homestead. We never made it!
Great article! I went here for my 21st birthday in 2002. Sad it didn’t stick around too much longer after that. #neverforget
This was a bar that had real people in it. It would have never of survived today’s age.
I miss Chiodos. I miss my dad. I love seeing these pictures and hearing that others still remember Sam and Joe. Thank you.
Loved going to Chiodo’s in the late 80s while in grad school. In addition to everyone and everything mentioned in previous posts, it was one of the few bars at that time offering a selection of craft beers.