A century of operation under the founding family. 30,000 t-shirts sold every year. And it goes through 450 pickled eggs every day. Joe Jost’s isn’t just an old bar; it’s a rightful Long Beach institution. And for the first time in its history, its founding family—currently led by long-loved owner Ken Buck, the grandson of Joe Yost (aka Joe Jost), who founded the space in 1924—is parting ways.
“In frankness, Joe Jost’s never really felt like a job for me,” Ken said, who has no kids and, as he puts it, his employees are his family. “But there are other things my wife, Cathleen, and I want to do—travel being one of them. The main thing was that my employees are taken care of, since I’ve had bartenders there who have been there for over 30 years. And Jon Sweeney couldn’t have been a more ideal candidate for ownership. I asked nothing of him, and he led the conversation with, ‘I don’t want to change a thing.’ Which, of course, my employees enjoyed hearing. The larger reality is that I know Jon will take Joe Jost’s into the future, where it will hopefully remain for another 100 years.”
Jon—co-owner of Altar Society in DTLB and a Long Beach native whose working roots began behind the bar at Joe Jost’s, when they only had two taps—stands by that statement. “I understand the sanctity of Joe Jost’s,” Jon said. “I understand both the brand and the space itself feel like home to many generations of Long Beach locals—and I don’t plan on changing that.”
Even the mayor gets it.
“Legacy businesses are the soul of Long Beach, and Joe Jost’s shows why preserving them matters,” said Mayor Rex Richardson. “For generations, it has been a place where people come together, and traditions are passed down. Knowing it will remain in local hands gives me confidence its story will continue. And I hope to share a pickled egg there with my grandchildren someday.”
With rumors swirling for months, Joe Jost’s sale has built up a mythology almost as large as the bar itself.
“It’s been rather fun to witness,” Ken said, noting the long-held speculation of who will take over the reins of the famed beer bar.
The owners of Legends and Crow’s? A random family? One of the bartenders? Rumors were flying fast and far. And that isn’t to say Jon hasn’t messed with hearts or minds in pure diabolical jest: With one set of longtime regulars, Jon approached them and said, “Hey, hear me out: Let’s upgrade the Joe’s Special. Let’s do Catalina Island fish tacos. We’ll have the fish exported from the island and we’ll boil them in the sausage water so we can make it a little healthier.”
One can imagine the death stares with such sacrilege being put forth. For those that know, the Joe’s Special is a defining part of the city’s food scene. A steamed slice of rye slathered with a dollop of mustard before being stuffed with a pickle spear, Swiss cheese, and a Polish sausage made from a family-kept blend of spices.
And rightfully, even the phrase “the sale of Joe Jost’s” causes clutched pearls, let alone massive, shifting changes to a space many consider a second home. Joe Jost’s is less like a business and more like a civic landmark. It joins Long Beach legends on par with The Queen Mary, where people around the world wear its famed shirts. It’s on the level of the music of Sublime spilling out of car windows like a permanent summer. It’s on the level of Snoop Dogg’s unmistakable presence in our cultural orbit. Joe Jost’s is, bluntly put, in that same unmistakable tier of Long Beach iconography.
From barber chairs to schooners: The story of Joe Jost’s is an immigrant’s story for Long Beach.
The origin story is wonderfully utilitarian, which is to say: deeply Long Beach. Joe Jost’s didn’t begin as the bar people now treat like a rite of passage. It began, in 1924, as a combination barbershop that also made room for billiards and poker. The business itself traces back even earlier—started by Joe Jost in 1920 in Newport Beach before relocating to Long Beach.
“With Prohibition over, my grandfather got a license to serve beer,” Ken said. “The barbering commission came in shortly thereafter. And it said, ‘You know: you can’t serve beer, and cut hair at the same time.’ Scissors and razors and all… So he opted to stick with the beer. Best decision he ever made.”
It also explains why the barber pole is such an essential part of its iconography and, well, its continuity. It is a story of immigrant resilience, adaptation, and evolution. From the installation of televisions and billiards to upgrading its tap system to serve more than one or two brews, Joe Jost’s has subtly changed—but not enough to ruin or demolish its following.
And that continuity—100 years of communal solidarity and sociality—isn’t accidental. It’s custodianship.
Ken Buck and the family thread of Joe Jost’s
Joe Jost’s has always been a family business, with Ken—Joe Jost’s grandson—running the show. And that matters, because it’s the difference between a “historic bar” and a living institution. Lots of places can hang a few old photos and sell nostalgia. Far fewer can maintain the feeling that the building remembers you. Perhaps that is why some are a bit skeptical of a shift to ownership outside the family.
After all, Joe Jost’s is a place that inspired taverns to print shirts following their lead in the 1960s. It brought The Potholder to follow Joe Jost’s trend of capturing photos of patrons while they travel the world. It got Thirsty Isle to invest in a super-cold keg system. (And that is, by the way, the reason Joe Jost’s doesn’t serve Guinness.) Joe Jost’s has inspired outsiders while inducing hometown pride—and Ken is not lost on that.
“I understand the concern,” Ken said. “But there really is no better person. I haven’t told Jon to do a single thing. It is his him who is assuring everyone that Joe Jost’s will continue to be as close to what it always has been. My concern has always been its longevity; I want to see it survive, especially after what we went through with the pandemic. And Jon is just perfect that.”
Ken is rightfully positioned not just as an owner, but as a caretaker of something bigger than a business. Even pieces about the centennial frame him as the person keeping the tradition intact—down to the quirks, the rituals, and the stubborn charm that makes Joe Jost’s feel like it belongs to everyone. And with that, Jon knows the weight he carries.
For those thinking there will be a ‘new’ Joe Jost’s, stop—rest assured: it will remain the Long Beach classic it always has been.
“It’s not a burden, but it is a weight,” Jon said. “It’s not a burden because of what it is. It is Joe Jost’s. There’s nothing to change about it, really. The weight comes from what I want for this place in terms of my city. Down the road, I still want Joe Jost’s to be there. That is not for my family, but for the legacy Ken has built with his own… I do not take lightly the responsibility I’ve been handed.”
After all, a hundred years is a big deal anywhere. In Long Beach? It’s a flex.
Joe Jost’s centennial celebration wasn’t just a party; it was a public confirmation of what locals already know: this place is part of our architecture of identity. The official 100-year celebration centered around Aug. 10, 2024, with ticketed access that included a drink, a Joe’s Special, a pickled egg, and a commemorative coin. Because, of course, Joe Jost’s would make even a milestone feel like a collectible relic.
The centennial also carried a community-forward component, including fundraising tied to local athletics via the Long Beach Century Club and something that was actually brought up to Ken by Jon himself: “Joe Jost’s deserves a party.”
Just don’t hang a picture of Ken…
“I haven’t told Jon to do anything,” Ken said. “Well, until now: Do not hang a picture of me until I die.”
Laughing, Ken emphasizes that he prefers to fly under the radar, not as some local hero (though to many, he is), but just as someone who was privileged enough to enjoy what was handed to him. Because Joe Jost’s isn’t just instantly recognizable by the denizens of Long Beach. It has anchored memories for many.
If, as mentioned before, the Queen Mary looms as our haunted monument to travel and history… And Sublime is our soundtrack… Snoop is our global imprint…. That means Joe Jost’s is our neighborhood shrine. Where generations have learned what a chilled schooner is (and where everyone from The Annex to Schooner or Later got that very idea from). Where out-of-towners get initiated. And where locals stop in because the city can change around you, but this place is still doing what it does.
And if you want the simplest explanation for why it’s lasted a century, it’s in the fact that it’s was for Long Beach, by Long Beach. That, Long Beach, isn’t going to change any time soon.
Joe Jost’s is located at 2803 E. Anaheim St. Jon Sweeney will officially take over as owner on Jan. 1, 2026.
I have had more than one person not believe me that dad would go in in the early 1930s get a haircut, a shoe sunshine, a beer and a sandwich for a quarter. They had never heard about Haircuts and just couldn’t picture it so I was glad to see that in this article.
I was in the Cavern Club in Liverpool England watching a Beatles tribute band wearing one of my many Joe Josts shirts
When a guy tapped me on the shoulder and started yelling about the best pickled eggs he ever had from Joe Josts
I “came of age” at Joe Jost’s in the early 1960’s when Females were not regular customers. By the 70’s, my wife and I enjoyed a Schooner, Special and eggs regularly. That’s back when the High School Coaching Staff’s shared time between Joe’s and the Annex. Great memories 😊!
I’m glad to hear that Joe Jost’s will remain in tact…🥰 even though a restroom upgrade would be nice.🤣
I wish you all the best. What a treasure. I can’t drink anymore but a schooner of root beer is the best. See you again soon.
Joe Josts, what an institution and so many memories!!
The Long Beach Century Club was honored to have coordinated the 100th anniversary day where 1,000 patrons were served a Special etc. The Buck family has been good to the community for 100 years..well done!
I’m 65, Long Beach is my home town. I can count on 1 hand the times I’ve been to Joe Jost’s. It’s not the friendliest bar. More of an Old Guys Rule vibe. The pickled eggs are meh. It’s more about following a tradition to eat one. But the beer and conversation is good provided you go with a friend or two. The ambience is OK. Music? Not really.
Calm down, Karen. Did you think it could be you? I’ve been going there for decades but I’m far from a “regular”. With that said, I’ve never felt anything but welcomed every time I go. The eggs? The best pickled eggs I’ve ever tasted & I’m not alone there. No music? I welcome that, makes it a whole lot easier to talk with my wife &/or the 2-3+ people I just met there that visit.
Four generations of my family have spent time and enjoyed this landmark. We will visit soon.
What a beautiful story of Joe Jost’s! Our son Kenny Foster wears his JJ T-shirts with pride everywhere we go! People will stop and talk to him! Such a great institution! All will be just fine!
Best of luck Jon. You deserve the recognition and chance to do the things on your bucket list. JJ’s the site of my 21st bday celebration… 1,1and 1please.
So many memories of JJ. I always loved hearing my grandfather tell his stories is delivering ice to JJ in his horse drawn cart in the early 30’s(can’t say how true they all were, but very entertaining to me and my brother). And the memories of drinking beer with my late brother and friends…Probably the same as many of yours. Hope to visit the soon.
My Grandfather played Snooker there in the 30s. Gangsters would bet on the games. My dad slipped in as a kid, and claimed he saw ten grand worth of bets sitting there. Remember, this was during the Depression. Went back a few years ago, after a couple of decades. Hadn’t changed a bit.
I have the book. I wear the t-shirts . I’m a Joe Jost’s guy.
I’ve been in there seven times and each time was the same, there were only rude white people, but the food was okay.
My Grandfather use to sit at the corner seat at the bar on the left side back in the 50’s and my Dad and I followed tradition with the schooners of beer and the sandwich until he was 91! I am so glad I took him there one more time for old time’s sake in 2018. Congratulations on the sale and I am so glad nothing will change!
I’m 85 and started going to Joe Jost’s while in Sigma Pi Fraternity at Long Beach State. I kept going there on occasion after going through Navy OCS, married and living in Long Beach, divorced and living in Seal Beach with my fraternity brother, remarrying and living in Seattle, WA and then returning to San Diego. My last picture with my two brothers was as Joe Jost. I say “last” as one passed away shortly thereafter during the beginning of Covid. Joe Jost has ALWAYS been the place to meet with friends, old and young. I now live in Tennessee and ran into a Joe Jost shirt a couple of years back. We definitely had something to chat about. Congratulations.
Gerry Harvey
My grandfather had a auto shop at the swc of Anaheim Blvd and Cherry. My father grew up in Joe Josts and could run a pool table to the day he died. He played baseball at Hamilton bowl and draln beer after each game. His American Legion ball team won the Western Region championship and went on to play in the world series in Boston in 1931. My dad bought Joe’s tier drop trailer for me in 1964 to stay in working in Big Bear Lake. He retired with the Long Beach police department in 1955. My close friend Don Rogers worked at Belmont Motor Clenic as we attended Jordan HS. Dad went to Poly HS as did my sister. Jordan never won a single football game against Poly. Dad showed no mercy. Some of Don’s ashes are secretly spread in Joe Josts. Don and I (and Mike) were Sigma Pi’s. I am 84 years old and ware a 100 years tee shirt. Tradition never dies!