While researching for my next novel, Don’t Stop the Music, I came across this little nugget. The photo is a mock-up of the 1967 Guerneville Inn, which rested where the parking lot is today near the Coffee Bazaar. The devil was indeed at work here. According to a local old timer (let’s call him Preacher), the restaurant served Italian faire and was renowned for “cutting” corners, literally. One day the owner and his buddy went on a late night hunt. They soon returned with a cow they had shot near a rancher’s fence line. The beast was butchered and sold to make ends meat. The Preacher says that the Guerneville Inn served the best beef Parmesan on the Russian River.
On another occasion, a husband comes in and spies his wife accepting a drink from a stranger. An argument ensued between the husband and stranger. The wife tries to calm the pair, saying there was plenty of her to go around.
Guerneville Inn:
The husband, however, takes exception to this and leaves. He soon returns and shoots the stranger dead. Where there is love, you’ll find Satan.
The Guerneville Inn ended its infamous run in a fireball when a propane tank ignited. A couple of suspicious looking rubes were spotted fleeing the restaurant, wearing Lyndon B. Johnson masks, moments before the explosion. The sheriff stopped a delivery van along the strip for a broken taillight. Inside were found the disguises as well as several paintings of naked ladies that were stolen from the joint. Swindlers nor thieves shall inhearite the Kingdom, so says the Preacher.