"Who you looking for?" I was asked upon stepping into this dimly lit Washington Park establishment, the first sign that it doesn't attract too many outsiders. But after I said I just wanted a beer, I was welcomed in, and within minutes I was introduced to nearly everybody in the place. The lanky, graying man on the next stool told me he had just returned from a brother's funeral in Alabama, where he'd stayed with another brother who's a preacher. "I haven't had a drink since last Thursday," he said. "It's good to be home." —Mick Dumke
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