Irvin E. Koch, 103, has run Club Sunset Knoll, a basement bar inside his 1912 home in Pasadena, Maryland, for more than six decades. He opens when the first customer arrives and shuts when the last leaves, with no fixed schedule.
The tavern, still cash‑only and devoid of a website, preserves its original 1963 décor—a dimly lit space, a jukebox, an old Smith Corona register, and a wall plastered with police patches and a banner proclaiming “Drinking where the sun don’t shine.”
Patrons range from long‑time locals like Kathleen Hooper to police officers who visit for cheap beer, and the bar has become a bucket‑list destination. Irvin’s step‑grandson Jason says the social interaction keeps him alive, but the veteran insists he simply enjoys the conversation and the one‑liners he’s honed over the years.
Every night, customers leave names, notes, and sometimes even bras on the ceiling, turning the basement into a living scrapbook of decades past. The bar’s steadfast operation offers a rare, intimate glimpse into pre‑digital Maryland culture, drawing visitors who crave an experience untouched by modern technology.