I moved to Caspar in 1985. My house was across the street from the Caspar ("R.I.P. Caspar Inn," Feb. 7). When the wind was right, I could hear the music rockin' out across the night. I could walk to the Caspar, the neon shimmering through the fog as my beacon -- and I must admit, more than a few times, I crawled back home. Peter Lit owned the Caspar Inn then. He brought in some of the best in blues and rock. Ten years later, I bought the Riverwood Inn. The Caspar and the Riverwood could be roadhouse sisters. Caspar's rooms are upstairs, the Riverwood's are downstairs. No TV or phones in the rooms. Our web page warns that the rooms are noisy till closing time and on a band night, forget it. No sleep till the fat lady quits singing.
When I bought the Riverwood Inn, the Caspar was my model to follow. Music, booze, rooms, food. Ah, but the front porch of the Caspar was a fragrant place. The Riverwood has a front porch, too.
I'm sorry to see the Caspar Inn close, and I hope it's not forever. It has closed and opened before. So has the Riverwood. Keeping an old building up and running is a lot of work. The sound of a hammer has never stopped since I bought it. It's a lot of work to keep a music venue up and running, too. Good bands aren't cheap. It's important to keep good live music venues going or the music will stop. Lots of bands will miss the Caspar.
So, if you get nostalgic and want a place that can remind you, just a little, of the Caspar Inn, come on down to my place. We have Maker's Mark, too.
Loreen Eliason, Phillipsville