-- The 211 Mission Statement
LATELY, IT SEEMS one of The Stranger's functions has been to perform eulogies for local independent businesses. Once again, duty calls: this time in Belltown, where Seattle's oldest pool hall, the 211 Billiard Club, is locking its gate for the last time. Everyone in this city has a list of places that answers the question, "Why live here when it rains so much?" Until Saturday, December 23, the 211's two snooker tables, three antique billiard tables, and 16 regular pool tables, accompanied by no sound other than the click and mutter of balls on felt, have been the answer to that question for more than a few locals.
Like a bar, the 211 was most loved and defined by its regulars. It was a place where people could grow old, layering their memories at certain tables. Longtime owner John Teerink has memories of 18-year-old kids sneaking into the old location (Second and Union, where Benaroya Hall is now) to play their first pool game. Those kids became regulars over the years, and now they're in their early 40s.
William Flaherty, whom everyone calls Big Will, has been a serious regular at the 211 since the '70s; he has his own key. "I just got off a ship and I saw it one day," he says. "The old place--every time I got off a ship I'd play pool there. I'm considered one of the family. I'm not going to have much to do when this place shuts down. There's going to be a lot of tears at the [closing] party on Sunday. A lot of memories."
The pool hall was established way back in 1898 by members of the 211 Union. In 1987, it was forced to move to its current location above the Speakeasy Cafe. During that time, there was a flurry of news articles about the potential of the hall closing down. This time, the 211 is closing its doors for certain, and it's a quiet ending.
This fall, owners John and Betty Teerink sold their lease to the Speakeasy Cafe. They knew that their lease was up in four years and that they had no hope for renegotiating in Belltown. After selling to the Speakeasy Cafe, they looked for another location to reopen. No other location presented itself; in order to reopen anywhere else in Seattle, they would have to accept paying quadruple their former rent. And so the Teerinks were forced to close the 211 permanently. They've owned it since 1971.
"When I walked in here that first day, I just fell in love with the place," John Teerink told The Seattle Times back in 1980. "Even back then [referring to the '60s], most of these places were dead or dying. And coming in here was like walking into an old movie scene from the '30s." And, in fact, it did double as a movie set when it was featured in David Mamet's House of Games.
Certainly, the Garage, Temple Billiards, and even Belltown Billiards are all fine places to play pool. They are, in fact, great places to witness the romance between a solid break and a beautiful, pristine table. But these places are only simulations of pool halls. Career types clog the tables, art hangs from the walls, and Italian cuisine is available. These places are cluttered with high-class accoutrements that grate against the truth of pool: It's a blue-collar affair. These nouveau riche pool halls ignore the swirl of honor, pride, street skills, unhealthy leisure, and spare means.
At the 211 there's no whistling, no pop music, no sound system at all, and only hushed voices; the pool hall has the acoustics of a church. The only rowdy noisemakers allowed are the balls on the table; they click, crack, and echo wildly. The whole room is dictated by the sound of the game itself. After this Saturday, that sound won't be found in Seattle.
