On a bitter cold
Saturday night, late December in 1976, the men of Koos Inc. gathered in the
backroom of Mario’s Red Arrow Club on Sheridan Road in Kenosha. The reason for
this get-together was a Union Christmas party. UFCW Local 73A was good enough
to sponsor the much-appreciated gathering for the workforce from Koos. This
night was going to be an event to be remembered. This celebration would be a
first. Never before had the Union workers at Koos Inc. had an official
Christmas function. Tonight that would all change.
The year before, not only was there no party, the employees had to work until
11:00 o’clock on Christmas Eve morning. Of course the beer that was smuggled
into the plant created a somewhat cheerful atmosphere, but it still wasn’t a
party. Not even the numerous pints of blackberry brandy purchased from the
nearby Beer Depot could do the trick. It just wasn’t a party.
The people in management always had a nice little soiree each year, but nothing
for the guys in the Union. This year was going to be different. The guys in the
plant were finally going to have a bash of their own.
And what a bash it was!
The backroom at Mario’s Red Arrow Club was dimly lit, long and narrow, with a
chest-high wall at one end that separated a small kitchen from the rest of the
hall. This might have been the back of a smoke filled neighborhood bar, but it
was perfect for this inaugural event.
The good people from UFCW had provided the guys from Koos with enough money for
the hall, food, a keg of beer and a couple of bottles of hard liquor. Several
of us had even brought festive holiday deserts. What more was needed? Let the
party begin!
Because we were new to this Christmas party thing, most of us had neglected to
bring a date. The only females present for the event were Ziggy Gutowski’s wife
and the aunt of Danny Fliess who brought her two daughters. Other than that the
guest list was strictly male.
It was still going to be quite a shindig, trust me.
While the sloppy joes warmed in the crock-pot and the hot dogs simmered in a
large pot of oiling water, we decided to start playing cards. While Ted Nugent
blared through the speakers hung on the walls, the collection of partygoers
broke into two separate games of cards, one at each end of the room.
Located at the east end was a boisterous group of Koos veterans, consisting of
Danny Fliess, the legendary Arno Schubert, Jim Weber, Munk Ekern, Harry
Leipzig, along with several others. They were playing poker for cash and the shots
of Wild Turkey were flying.
Joining me at the other end of the hall, near the kitchen area, were Chuckie
Haubrich, Chuck Huck and some of the newer employees. Rather than gamble, we
had opted to play drinking games where the loser had to guzzle a beer. The card
playing was sloppy, but the suds were cold.
The party was in full swing and everyone was having a high-spirited time. That
is until our group spotted a humongous can of black olives.
As we were
attempting to get the can of olives open, the group from the east end informed
us that they wanted some of the olives. The diminutive Chuck Huck put a handful
on a paper plate and brought it over to them.
Evidently this was not good enough for them.
Several members of their contingent made their way over to our table and
demanded the whole can of olives. We would have no part of that and we all
grabbed a big handful and told them that they were all ours!
Seeing that we were not giving up the olives peacefully, the “east-enders”
grabbed the can and made off with it and the remaining olives. We were outraged
and shouted, “You want all the olives?” With that the war was on. Olives were
flying from one end of the hall to the other.
Unfortunately, the olives were only the beginning. Soon cups of beer were being
flung across the room. Being near the kitchen area, our group decided to
“escalate” the battle. Using cooking tongs, we began plucking hot dogs from the
boiling water and used them as projectiles in our efforts during this now epic
battle. The frankfurters were flying!
This melee resembled a scene from any Three Stooges film. At this point it was
pure chaos.
Then something happened that momentarily brought the frantic food fight to an
abrupt stop. For some unknown reason, Chuckie Haubrich grabbed a big handful of
raw ground beef, wadded into a lump the size of a baseball and hurled it across
the hall at Arno Schubert’s oddly shaped head.
Before I go on, for those of you who don’t know Chuckie Haubrich, he possessed
an extremely strong throwing arm. The man could throw a ping-pong ball through
a brick wall.
Now back to the story.
Splat!!!! The sphere of uncooked ground beef had found its’ target – the right
side of Arno’s scarred face. Chuckie Haubrich would have made Nolan Ryan proud
with that toss.
Seeing what happened, we started chuckling as Arno staggered while trying to
regain his bearings. It didn’t take long before everyone in the room was
roaring with laughter. Well, everyone except for Arno.
With the glob of raw meat still stuck on his face, he picked up a pan up of
orange Jell-O topped with whipped cream. Fuming, with the desert held at
shoulder height, he unsteadily made his way over to our end of the room.
As he got closer, he spat out, “You think it’s funny?” Everyone continued to
snicker, wondering if he would actually retaliate against Chuckie Haubrich.
After all, he was the one who had tattooed him with the beefy missile. When he
finally reached our cluster, Arno walked right by the 6’4” 250 pound Haubrich.
Instead, he turned to the 5’7” 150 pound Chuck Huck and hissed yet again, “You
think it’s funny?” At that point you could have heard a pin drop.
Huck stared the irate German right in the eye and blurted out, “Hell ya it’s
funny!”
You guessed it. Chuck Huck was now wearing the pan of orange Jell-O and whipped
cream all over his head. Needless to say, the war was on again. Only, now cakes
and various other creamy delights had been added to the arsenal.
When all was said and done, the backroom of Mario’s Red Arrow Club was declared
a disaster area. Food was not only on the walls and floor, but on the ceiling
as well. As we scraped our holiday meal off of our clothes, the manager of
Mario’s kindly asked us to leave. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so kindly. He told us
to get out and never come back.
It should be noted that the Union didn’t get the deposit back for the hall. And
there was never another UFCW sponsored Christmas party. That Christmas party
was the first and last for the Union guys at Koos. It was the only Christmas
Party. Ever.
But what a bash it
was!
May you all have a Happy Holiday season and a very Merry and Blessed Christmas.
Until next time…from the booth.
