Ed Burke’s
Ed Burke was a like a living cartoon character and many of the events and colorful stories that packed his 76 years on the planet sound like something from a Hollywood blockbuster. Tough, loud, opinionated and profane, he led by example and was never afraid to speak his mind or insult someone to their face.
Born and raised in Milton, Massachusetts, he was the only child of Ed Burke Sr. and Mary Cosgove and had a difficult upbringing. His father ran bars, at one time owning The Tam on Beacon Street in Brookline, and his mother died when he was 10. Burke was sent to boarding school for a few years before graduating from Milton High School and attending Bentley College.
OPENING, CLIENTELE, BOSTON MAGAZINE AWARD
He worked in a Stop & Shop warehouse when he inherited his dad’s bar in Boston’s Mission Hill neighborhood in 1990 and added live music, particularly acts playing R&B from the ‘70s and ‘80s. Burke didn’t tolerate any foolishness at the 150-capacity dive bar, controlling it with an iron hand with the help of a baseball bat and .38 pistol always nearby. The crowd was always diverse both professionally and ethnically, attracting medical workers from Brigham and Woman’s Faulkner Hospital, Museum of Fine Arts employees, local cops and firefighters, lots of musicians and the working-class regulars who lived in the neighborhood. Boston magazine named it Best Neighborhood Bar in 1990 and in The Boston Blues Society gave him a Lifetime Achievement Award in later years. On the bar’s t-shirts were these words: “Where civilization ends and wildlife begins.”
RICK DANKO, GINGER BAKER, LUTHUR “GUITAR JR.” JOHNSON
Rick Danko of The Band played several times at Ed Burke’s. He appeared alone, the tickets were $10 and he’d get the door money. There would always be at least 100 people in the audience and he performed for about an hour. One time, Ed was overheard saying, “Well, sure, there are a lot of people here, Rick, but nobody is going to dance and that’s when I sell a lot of booze.” “Don’t worry Ed, they’re a hard drinking crowd,” Danko replied.
One time, Cream bassist Noel Redding was appearing with his band and Ed and I were watching the show. “Ginger Baker’s playing at the Worcester Centrum tomorrow and I heard he may come by,” he said. Just as the words were leaving his mouth, I looked over his shoulder and saw the distinguished-looking Cream drummer himself with his back against the wall watching the show just like we were. I turned Ed around, walked with him toward Baker and said, “Ginger, this is Ed Burke, owner of the bar.” During the second set, the legendary kitman joined Redding on stage for a few songs.
Another time, Muddy Waters Band vet Luther “Guitar Jr.” Johnson was playing and between sets downstairs were him and his iconic visitors Johnny “Clyde” Copeland and Eddie Kirkland smoking a joint. When Ed came downstairs with a few empty cases of beer, I drew his attention to the unforgettable event. “Look Ed!” I shouted. “Three Grammy winners are smoking a joint together in your club!” I said it like it was a hall of fame moment, which it was, but Burke just shook his head with sneering disapproval and climbed the stairs back to the “wildlife” above.
CLOSING, BURKE’S DEATH, LEGACY
Ed Burke’s closed in 1993 for two reasons. First, the city’s Huntington Avenue road repair and subway track reconstruction in front of his bar dragged on for years and the heavy equipment took up all the parking spaces. Second, around the same time, people began avoiding Mission Hill after the infamous Charles Stuart incident; Stuart told police that a Black man forced his way into his car in the area and fatally shot and his pregnant wife, which was a lie since Stuart himself had committed (and was found guilty of) the murder. “People would call up and ask, ‘Where are you located?’ and as soon as we told them ‘Mission Hill’ they’d hang up,” Burke once said.
In his final years, as his health declined, he moved to an apartment in Quincy, drove a cab and continued to go to live shows around town to support artists and the local music scene. The man whose whole life consisted of caring for others and supporting musicians and the blues scene died of congestive heart failure in 2017, but his life and legacy will never be forgotten. “As long as I’ve known him – which goes back to the early 80′s – Ed was never without a chuckle or a smile or a colorful story to share,” said Barbara Rhind, the bar manager at the C-Note in Hull, shortly after his death. “He was extremely opinionated, eccentric, and full of life. Ed had countless friends in the club and music industry.”
(by A.J. Wachtel)
