A Dinkytowner fan flies home for one last pint

Gimme Noise recently received an email from a former Minneapolitan who was saddened by the news of the Dinkytowner's closing. He sent us a letter about his Dinkytowner memories and his final visit to the ill-fated club, and his note was so sincere and heartfelt that we just had to share it with our readers. See below for his letter, and post your own Dinkytowner memories in the comments below.

Though I'm a few years out of school and currently live on the West Coast, and memories of campus life are beginning to fade, The Dinkytowner was always something that I could come back to with a sense of warm familiarity; something that brought a smile to my face. Memories of a smoke filled pool hall complete with an outstanding greasy spoon menu and an impressive live music scene will forever be among my fondest from hazy college days. Memories of a friendly bar staff, and two for ones with free pool during Happy Hour will be shared amongst good friends for years to come. When I read in the City Pages that the Dinkytowner was set to close on May 31st, I felt somehow betrayed, a sense of physical sadness as if I'd actually lost a friend. Immediate calls around the country confirmed that other old friends felt as let down and as shocked as I did. We'd taken the bar's permanence for granted, an anchor and a commonality that would always be there for us on trips back home to Minneapolis. That's what it came down to for a lot of us, that familiar sense of belonging. For a few years at least, The Dinkytowner was a home. That comfortable place where the people were laid back and the beer was cold. Strike up a conversation with strangers at the bar, or hang out and read your paper, The Dinkytowner was a refuge from the fast paced world that seemed to fade away as we'd descend the stairs from 14th. My parents took me for breakfast on freshman move-in weekend; it was the first bar I'd ever been inside. Even though it was a few years before I made it back on my 21st birthday, I knew that the place would be the same, and that I'd be amongst friends. When I worked the night shift after college and needed a place to unwind, I knew that I could count on Dinkytowner for a great breakfast and a little slice of peace. I made regular friends with the morning bartenders, and developed crushes on more than one. They were always so nice and welcoming; I think we were all in love with scene that they gave us. I made it back last week, scheduled a layover on a cross country flight that gave me enough time to run to campus for a pint and a bite. It was exactly as I'd remembered it, even some of my morning bartenders were hanging out, reminiscing in the final days. No one wanting to leave, knowing that tomorrow would be another day closer to the end. I took a couple pictures, but looking back on them now, I realize that there wasn't anything physical that made The Dinkytowner special, it was the feeling, it was the scene. The Dinkytowner shut down over the weekend, and with it went one more connection to a different place and time. A new stadium is going up just down the block, new apartments around campus look a little nicer, and the kids look a lot younger. We're all growing up and moving on, moving away and getting older. One more home is gone. The Dinkytowner will always bring a smile to my face and perhaps a bit of a twinge to my liver, I'm going to miss it and the warm feeling of belonging that it always brought me.Thanks,Sean BrownPortland, OR