The Winslow Hotel closes its doors for the last time this weekend. There will be a celebration party on Saturday night.
I have no idea how many times I drank there in the best of company and the best of surroundings. But the memories flood back. Tears for every reason under the sun.
The matches. The mates. We celebrated wins, births, marriages, new jobs; commemorated those we lost; gave all our best to someone leaving the city to move elsewhere.
The place where we mingled with our heroes as if they were our mates. Dixie’s local for a long while. Rotterdam heroes in each corner. A Lee lad over there and another there. Super Kev.
Good sarnies.
Bricks and mortar, but The Winslow was a personality, culture, a home. Laughs, voices, the most meaningful friendships, bubbling inside, people we have lost.
RIP you all… and now The Winslow.