Fight to Save Jimmy's Corner: A New York Dive Bar's Battle Against Eviction
On a Friday morning, David Gladman, a 73-year-old former executive chef, was meticulously scanning the table tops at Jimmy's Corner, a Times Square dive bar that has served beers for over five decades. Using his phone's torch, he searched through yellowing laminate-covered photographs dating back to the 1970s. "There it is," he declared triumphantly, pointing to an image of himself and his wife from the early 1980s, where he smoked a cigarette and she smiled at the camera. Gladman, who frequented the bar "every day from 1988 to 2012," captured the photo digitally, preserving a memory from one of countless nights spent in this cherished establishment. "My job was very stressful," he explained. "So I would come here, spend three or four hours, and go home feeling good."
A Vestige of Older New York
It's easy to understand Gladman's deep attachment to Jimmy's Corner, which was opened by former boxer Jimmy Glenn in 1971. Amid the modern bright lights and tourist clamor of Times Square, the bar stands as a last remnant of an older, grittier New York. The walls are adorned with ageing photos of boxers, while restrooms feature stickers from long-defunct bands and shuttered bars. A dust-covered Happy Birthday sign hangs behind the narrow bar, where patrons on rickety stools or standing with tucked-in pints navigate the tight space. This authenticity, rather than swankiness, has fostered a loyal clientele now horrified by the threat of closure after 55 years.
Eviction Threat and Community Rally
The building's landlord, the Durst Organization, has informed Adam Glenn, Jimmy's son who took over in 2015, of an eviction and put the property up for sale. This has sparked last-ditch efforts to save the bar, including a lawsuit filed by Adam last year and a rally held on Friday. Scores of patrons and local politicians gathered, with Adam noting, "It's a testament to our community." He opened early, and by 10:30 am, dozens fortified themselves with the bar's famously cheap beer before protesting. "Through adversity, communities get stronger," Adam reflected. "This threat has made us think even more about what we love here."
Historical Significance and Legal Battles
When Jimmy Glenn opened the bar, Times Square was notorious for prostitution, peep shows, and vice. Jimmy provided a safe haven, often standing outside to monitor the street, attracting a fiercely loyal crowd. Adam believes his father was "tricked" into a lease provision allowing Durst to shut the bar after Jimmy's death in 2020. "My dad would be incredibly hurt and disappointed," Adam said. The rally outside Durst headquarters drew local TV news, with patrons like Thomas P Walsh, 68, who has visited since age 14, expressing outrage. "The landlord is greedy. It's like family here—everybody knows everybody," he stated.
Political Support and Legislative Efforts
Local politicians have championed the bar's cause, linking its fight to broader legislation protecting small businesses from eviction. New York State Senator Julia Salazar emphasized, "This is one example of thousands of businesses forced to close due to unsustainable rent increases. Small businesses are the beating heart of the city, representing culture and employing over half of New York's workers." Her speech prompted chants of "Save Jimmy's Corner!" while Assembly Member Emily Gallagher recalled her first visit, meeting people from around the world. "New York often feels like a strip mall in Iowa now," she said. "Jimmy's is beloved and family-owned, while Durst is an enormous real estate company attempting eviction."
Durst's Response and Community Resilience
In a statement, Durst defended its actions, citing plans for a housing development and noting a 50-year personal relationship with Jimmy Glenn. "Durst helped keep the bar open for decades with below-market rent, not raising it in nearly 20 years," the company said, adding that it offered Adam money to vacate. "We regret it has come to this." However, this argument fell flat at the rally, where patrons metaphorically stuck it to big business. After the protest, an upbeat atmosphere back at the bar, fueled by $3 beers, masked the sadness of potential closure.
Personal Memories and Future Hopes
Among the crowd was Gladman, sipping a beer and reminiscing. "Jimmy was like a dad to me," he shared. "He knew all about my life and gave great advice." Though his marriage from the photo didn't last—his wife moved to California, and he remarried—he still finds solace at Jimmy's Corner. "I don't want this place to go. It holds a lot of memories for me. For everyone." As the community continues its fight, the bar remains a symbol of resilience and nostalgia in a rapidly changing city.
