Save The Dovre Club!


My Parents’ Dovre Club

6 Responses to “Save The Dovre Club!”

  1. maria says:

    wtf?? this is old, right? from when they were on 18th Street? They’re not being evicted from 26th & Valencia, right? RIGHT?? Say it taint so . . .

  2. Lucky Charms says:

    yeah, this was from when the women’s building got dovre club booted from a spot where they’d been for eons. mission was a irish working class neighborhood forever (check the tombstones behind dolores church). that’s why being anti-gentrification is tricky.. yes, the mission is a predominately latino hood… but only for about 2 generations (and of course, when the spaniards enslaved the local indians waaaay back in the day). still, fuck yuppies.

    • one says:

      whaa whaa whaa. the women’s bldg is no longer a working man’s meeting hall – long gone. you got women, you’re going to have kids. alcohol don’t fit in the mix and it was time for the dovre to move on. it had nothing to do with yuppies, yuppie.

  3. Sam says:

    Yes, it was Irish and Scandinavian. White but working class all the way.

    My wife’s family is Norwegian and from the Mission. Grandfather is in his 90s and even has the Mission district accent — he calls Valencia “Valencha”. Sounds almost brooklyn style. Sadly this accent will disappear as his generation passes on.

    So yes, this anti-gentrification thing is tricky indeed.

  4. marty Hansen says:

    Dovre is the name of a mountain in Norway.

    The building was built by Sons of Norway.
    Their local chapter probably still has members
    who were part of the Scandinavian community.

    My parents used to put on dances there after World War II. John & Laura Hansen.

    We kids had the run of the place. We were shown cartoons in the upstairs room, probably over the Dovre Club.

    I vividly remember the Christmas parties, with couples dancing around the large tree in the center of the dance floor. The polka, schottische, hambo, etcetera. The band was 3 pieces. Accordion, drums, and clarinet, I think.
    My Pop sang, bartended, and was, when necessary, the bouncer.