It used to be that two words - Miss Irene's - could quiet laments about how rich people in BMWs and $800,000 condos were slowly but surely sweeping away Fells Point's seaport grittiness.
The smoky dive bar at Thames and Ann streets was the un-yuppie hangout, with cheap beer, worn stools, a big pool table and a look firmly stuck in the 1970s. Now Miss Irene's, which closed two months ago, is for sale at $1.5 million.
It joins a pub crawl's worth of neighborhood bars scattered near the water that are on the market, including the still-open Whistling Oyster ($850,000) and the Dead End Saloon ($2.1 million). At those prices, real estate agents say, a buyer almost certainly would have to add a new word - upscale - to make the investment worthwhile.
Not all of Fells Point's many old-time saloons and hangouts are endangered. But the desire of several longtime bar owners to hang it up and cash out could move the area further from its roots. Less down and dirty, more surf and turf.
"Sad," 46-year-old Kelley Brohawn said between sips of a National Bohemian beer in his regular spot at the Whistling Oyster. "It's called the demise of a real neighborhood."
Or maybe not. Patrick Russell, owner of the sleek Kooper's Tavern and the new Slainte Irish pub, thinks the neighborhood is simply evolving as wealthier residents and companies such as Morgan Stanley move in. Think, he says, of quaint Annapolis.
"Can you imagine if nine out of 10 Fells Point bars looked like Annapolis bars?" he said. "Can you imagine how successful it would be? People like to be around cleanliness, feel like they're safe."
Gentrification not new
Change is not new to Fells Point. Nor is gentrification. Once threatened by a planned highway that was scuttled, the area's popularity has steadily risen, as have property values. In 1980, a house on Shakespeare Street could be had for $5,000; one sold there recently for $450,000.
Residents and tourists alike remain drawn by the cobblestone streets, old houses, water views and authentic feel.
The other day, a chill wind blew off the water as a pink sky darkened over the Domino Sugar plant across the harbor. Birds flew kite-like around the elegant Recreation Pier; cars bounced over the cobblestone. Squint, and it could be 50 years ago.
To optimists like Barbra Grela, Fells Point can hold onto that timeless charm no matter who rests an elbow on her bar. Looking to sell the Dead End after 27 exhausting years, she said there is room for everyone.
"You have the person with a penthouse and the person with an efficiency apartment - they all get along," she said.
The contrasts are striking: She sells Natty Boh for a mere 75 cents; across Fell Street, someone wants $750,000 for a two-bedroom waterfront townhouse.
Old-timers in Fells Point speak with pride of some relatively recent happenings, such as the arrival of fine dining with the Black Olive and Kali's Court.
And they talk with dismay at the loss of colorful characters. Last year, death claimed painter Charlie Newton, whose art adorns bars of all stripes. And the state of Maine claimed Steve Bunker, who ran the eclectic China Sea Marine Trading Co. and walked around with a parrot on his shoulder before moving to New England in 1999.
Now, a combination of fatigue born of 18-hour days as barkeeps and the prospect of big payouts could bring more change.
"It may be an epidemic, the real estate prices are going up so high," resident Bob Keith said. "I regret the loss of these places if they are sold. They're very popular local hangouts. They are the genuine item."
The Glyphis family, which has owned Miss Irene's since 1949, has run out of energy, said real estate agent Paul Haslup. "Nobody wants to run it anymore."
When City Paper named it the "Best Bar for Hard-Core Drinking" last year, the paper said "the inside is comfortable, cozy - well, cozy in a dirty sort of way - dark, smoky, and, serving up beer that's plenty warm, all of it put together being enough to give it the seedy feel of waterfront bars gone by."
`Upscale it a touch'
The building dates to the late 1700s and shares a wall with the 239-year-old Robert Long House, Haslup said. Anyone willing to pay $1.5 million for the bar, liquor license and two small adjacent buildings will have to make changes, he said.
"They're going to have to upscale it a touch," Haslup said. He has fielded calls from interested buyers intrigued by the idea of putting a restaurant there.
The Whistling Oyster on Broadway is already a restaurant, albeit a small one. The building is essentially a narrow rowhouse: The bar is 12 feet wide, the rear dining room 9 feet wide. A tugboat captain once lived in an upstairs apartment.
When Read Hopkins bought it in 1973 for $15,000, Fells Point was a mess. The highway threat was still alive, and buildings the city had bought to make way for the project sat vacant and boarded up. The clientele wasn't much better.
