The building that holds the Do Drop Inn went up in 1885, but it didn't become a bar until a one-armed country boy named T-Bone turned it into one in the early half of the 20th century. In 1961, it was taken over by Carl Pfeiffer, an honest-to-God trapper who would bring in homemade 'possum stew and frog legs for patrons. There's no woodland game to be had at today's Do Drop Inn, now owned by Pfeiffer's daughter, Sue. But it remains a comfortably worn dive with a welcoming atmosphere and a killer jukebox. Original tins featuring the old Hamm's cartoon-bear mascot hang above the bar, along with authentic Indian arrowheads, courtesy of Carl. And the photo collages of regulars and the black-and-white photos of the Pfeiffers take you back in time as well as a fluxing DeLorean does.
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