To understand Long Beach’s love of drinking is to understand O’Connell’s on 4th Street where it meets Temple Avenue. Many old-timers and newly minted CSULB graduates alike will often say the space served as classroom for their own exploratory degree in drinking. And history would back that notion given it was the first space in the city to score a hard liquor license a wee back in 1934.
Over 90 years later, surely some things have changed. There are some pool tables that were brought in. A jukebox that surely wasn’t there in its heydays, one that randomly opts to stop playing and the bartender will surely blame you for should it happen (especially if you decided to play Sublime). This Irish-for-the-sake-of-being-Irish bar has nothing particularly Irish about it—its once permanent $5-a-shot Jameson special was finally removed a few years ago—and that is part of the glory of this joint.
You will not find influencers with ring lights attempting to record dance trends or gawk at its hallowed walls. Nor will you stumble upon too many people who randomly stumbled in. You will discover many regulars—from industry peeps day drinking to OGs who will sternly remove your drink from their stool whether you are occupying it or holding it. The space takes cards, but many patrons still pay in cash.
It is a thoroughly Long Beach space with a history as rich and heavy as its pour.
O’Connell’s is not just a Long Beach dive bar but a staple that locals are keeping alive.
“I was born on this corner,” owner Pete Sverkos said, gesturing to the intersection. “Right after I arrived at the hospital, this is where I was brought. My dad had the auto shop across the street so I grew up there. Riding my bike. Sweeping my Dad’s lot… Memories deeply engrained in me. And when I saw the light turn on for O’Connell’s back in the summer of 2017, I told myself that I would make it my mission to assure no one will turn it into a 7-Eleven.”
Pete is the man many know as the former owner of the much-missed Greek food space that is Kafe Neo that closed in 2017—the very space his father operated an auto shop directly across from O’Connell’s and is now The Lift. And when the green lights of O’Connell’s reflected in Pete’s eyes? He bought the property that year. And then formally took over the bar in 2018.
It reflects a larger trend among locals and natives to honor these stalwart watering holes being replaced by unncessary contemporaries. Just look at the owners of Crow’s in Naples, who took over the space one year ago. David Copley, Eric Johnson, and Matt Peterson—all locals—were not here to further augment Crow’s toward some new, craftier iteration but return it more toward where it had deviated: its much-loved phase of the 1990s.
“We used to work 16 hours days at Kafe Neo, close up shop, walk over,” Pete said. “We were regulars. Four shots and four beers later, we were at ease. No disrespect to previous owners but it was shitty—and we loved it. It was our living room.”
Joe Jost’s might have been around longer—but no one has been pouring liquor in Long Beach longer than O’Connell’s.
Many argue Joe Jost’s as the city’s oldest bar but, of course, there is some half-truth in that because they don’t serve spirits. Beer and wine spaces are, well, beer and wine spaces. And bars are bars. For the city’s oldest proper bar, that would be O’Connell’s.
“There’s been 13 owners,” Pete said. “But at one point, there was an O’Connell—and I am unsure if they were the ones that turned it into O’Connell’s Never been able to confirm it. And then another O’Connell—entirely unrelated—owned it after that. So the building had some natural attraction to O’Connells from around the world but after its original namer, we’ve kept the name since.”
The future of Long Beach’s oldest bar bar? Well, to uphold its character, of course—and be more welcoming.
My ultimate goal has been to keep its character. I know everyone expected the place to be remodeled after I bought it but no,” Pete said.
As would any new owner of a well-established bar, the moment Pete started tinkering with the space is the moment he heard the jarring jeers of regulars. Now, mind you, these weren’t drastic changes but essential ones: Pete compares it to jumping into a moving ’72 Cadillac El Dorado with a flat tire, no upholstery, no radio—but his soul goal was to keep it moving.
“The only thing I want to do is make sure it lasts for another 90 years and be a bit more welcoming,” Pete said.
Thank you for setting the record straight–I have been telling people for decades O’Connell’s was the oldest bar in Long Beach. My affection is overwhelming as it was a place of refuge for me during college. In 1985, Josephine had been bartending there for a quarter of a century already–and when I would come in seeking a place to be–she would set me up at the aboandoned back lunch counter and make me a grilled cheese and let me study until 2am. I could hear Mike or Murph bartending the sound of the shuffleboard bowling game and the jukebox playing “Green Door” on 45s. Tommy and Sue were listed as the “hosts” of O’Connell’s on every bar napkin. It was a place where I knew I could go alone and be among friends.
This. Is. AMAZING. Please keep sharing stories like these—they’re essential for the Long Beach record.