O’Keeffe’s

By Deno Gellepes

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Or, rather, maybe it was. You see, I’d just finished having lunch and a cold beer with a friend and we were walking down Balboa Street on a cool grey Saturday afternoon, wondering if the sun would ever push through the fog. As we often do, my friend and I were arguing over whether another bar or his house would be our next best action. 

We both had solid, well-rounded arguments as to why one option was better than the other: “Are you an idiot? How often are both of our wives out of town at the same time?! Let’s hit the bars, man!” or, “Listen man, beers are much cheaper in bulk, and we have my entire place to pace around and BS all day with the game on.” 

And then, just before either man could prevail, we stopped. It was a dead stop at Balboa and Sixth. 

“It’s open. It’s finally open!” I said, astonished, as I pointed directly across the street at what had always looked to me like an abandoned corner liquor store at Fifth and Balboa. But there she was, doors wide open and plenty of space inside to park. I looked at my buddy, and with Saturday afternoon conviction, we simultaneously wailed, “O’KEEFFE’S!” 

Somehow, after three years living in the Richmond, and a decade more of living in San Francisco in general, I had never caught O’Keeffe’s open. I just assumed it was a long-vacant building, or in more recent years, a COVID casualty. However, within seconds of entering the empty bar, we met Bob the bartender of 15+ years who immediately made us feel at home. 

It was still early, and with the place to ourselves and beers in hand, we paced around and picked Bob’s brain about the history of the bar while The Who’s “Who Are You” blared from the jukebox, and the Giants neared a victory on the TV overhead. 

Bob, a multi-generational San Franciscan, informed us that the bar had been an Inner Richmond staple for more than 50 years and that the kick-ass black and white photo above the bar which showcased a grizzled man with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, was in fact, Mr. O’Keeffe himself! Mr. O’Keeffe had the look of a man who’d never caught a cold in his life and thought those who did were just amateurs. I didn’t know the man, but I sure respected him.

Speaking of respect, we came to find out Tim O’Keeffe had sadly passed in the late 1990s, but his legacy still lives on through the bar as his wife, Annie O’Keeffe, owns and operates the bar to this day (the sign outside the bar still reads, “O’Keeffe’s Annie and Tim”). 

We were fortunate enough to meet Annie, and I quickly got the feeling that she was the informal Mayor of the Richmond District. Hugs were given, hands were shaken, dogs petted, water bowls for said dogs filled, babies kissed (seriously), and rounds on-the-house produced. Incredible. She earned my vote pretty quickly. 

Ironically (and prior to formally meeting), when Annie came in to the bar, we recognized her as the person who was sitting next to us at our previous stop for lunch. While we ate, she was sipping a glass of wine at the bar. Little did we know then that we would soon be drinking with her in her own establishment!

As afternoon turned to night, my friend headed home, but I stuck around to watch the wheels keep turning. Bob acted as bartender, friend, neighborhood watch and docent, all at the same time. As regulars started trickling in, greeted by Annie and Bob, you could sense the backyard BBQ-like vibes within the friendly confines of O’Keeffe’s. The place was coming alive. Everyone knew each other, but unlike a lot of clique-y bars, everyone welcomed me into their circle with open arms. 

Through a couple of stiff gin and tonics, I met a retired cop, a real estate agent, a retired educator and somebody who worked with the legend, Bill Graham, on concerts back when music actually mattered in this city. Oh, the stories she could tell! In all, I came to realize why so many of these folks kept coming back, in many cases daily; it wasn’t just the cheap booze and the fact it was close to home, but it was a sense of community that they all fostered among each other. This was a place people wanted to be, not a place they needed to be, and you could feel that positive energy reverberating from all angles of the bar.

O’Keeffe’s isn’t an outright dive bar, but it’s for damned sure not a craft cocktail lounge. If you attempt to order a Mojito or, oh god, an Appletini, you might be asked to leave faster than Bill Cosby at a bachelorette party. Make no mistake folks, this is a beer-and-a-shot type of place that can also pour stiff and simple cocktails (think whiskey and Coke, gin and tonic, etc.). They don’t have beer on tap, and they don’t take credit cards (cash only), but they do have an ATM on-site and allow outside food at the bar.

They have the cheapest booze ($5-6 beers, $6-7 shots) I’ve ever seen in San Francisco, well-positioned TVs playing sports, a jukebox playing classic rock, cheap pool, and an extremely kind owner, bartender and regular patrons. Simply put, next time you’re arguing with your friend on Balboa about what to do next, just go to O’Keeffe’s and talk it out over a beer and a shot!

O’Keeffe’s
598 Fifth Ave.
https://www.yelp.com/biz/o-keeffes-bar-san-francisco

Deno Gellepes is a 13-year San Franciscan originally hailing from Chico, CA. He’s a sales professional at a leading tech company and has a passion for music, writing, and sports – especially as they pertain to the history of San Francisco. He spends his weekdays sounding like Rick Steves and his weekends like Mick Jagger. He can be reached at denogellwriting@gmail.com.