I am Matt Thomas.

Here Stood Huc-a-Poo’s

April 7, 2006

Early this morning, a fire broke out, engulfing the building in which stood my favorite place on earth, Huc-a-Poo’s Bites and Booze.

“I love Huc-a-Poos, and you!”

To say that I loved Huc-a-Poo’s would be an understatement. From the time I first went there, I knew something about it was special. It wasn’t just a bar—even by Tybee’s already unique standards. Everyone, and everything, about Huc-a-Poo’s made you feel like you were an invited guest at a private party. Eric and Shep, its proud owners, made it seem as though you were visiting them at their own home. And when you left, they didn’t let you forget it—when I moved away from Tybee in 2004, a message appeared on the menu demanding “Come Home Matt!”

“I definitely love Huc-a-Poo’s.”

It became our home. Throughout the year that I lived on Tybee, Huc-a-Poo’s was my living room. While the bar in our house was special to us, we knew that it was temporary. Huc-a-Poo’s is what we always knew we could count on even in the worst of times. There wasn’t a time that you couldn’t go to Huc-a-Poo’s to see a few friendly faces. After Brian and I had to move out of our house on Tybee and I was shacking up with friends, Huc-a-Poos was the only place in my life that really felt like home.

Despite the disappointing turnout of my life in those first months after graduating from SCAD, I knew I could count on the people there. There was never any judgement at Huc-a-Poo’s, it didn’t matter what your race was, whether you did odd jobs or owned your own business, gay or straight, crazy or just plain weird. The only thing you could ever do to become unwelcome at Huc-a-Poo’s was to fail to respect the place or the people who made it.

“Huc-a-Poo’s is the best place in Savannah.”

I know that Huc-a-Poo’s was about the people, not the place. While many of us have unfortunately had to move away from Tybee, we also still consider that island our home. It’s sad to know that the place we always loved won’t be there the next time I visit. And while there’s talk—and I’m praying that it’s true—that Eric may rebuild, as much as I want that to happen, I know that there’s some things (like the original Kat Wheelchair napkin shown above) that can never be replaced. The original ring toss, the bizarre wizard painting, the photograph of Eric and Shep beside the front door—these are mementos that I keep in my mind when I’m away, and always check for when I return. It’s hard to know that the next iteration of Huc-a-Poo’s, wherever it is, will have to begin anew with its own ephemera—things that were created long after I moved away.

“I love Huc-a-Poo’s baby, come on down!”

And while it’s too early in the morning for a drink, I’ll raise my glass to Eric, Shep, and all of the countless people who made that bar such an amazing place to spend some time. While I can’t wait to see what they do next, I’ll always miss the original.

Update: The Savannah Morning News has preliminary coverage, including a picture (of Ric’s apartment, not of the actual bar area).

Update: Coverage from WTOC.

Update: Video from WTOC.