Rose Anthony, the owner of Rosie’s Tavern in Granby Center, does it all: Plow the driveway, do the cleaning, the ordering. At 99 years of age, she works every day of the week.

By Stefan Yablonski

Presided over by preeminent barkeep, Rose Anthony, Rosie’s Tavern is a classic — a landmark and a fixture in Granby Center.

“I was working at GE and GE was going to move. I had just gone through a divorce five years before that,” she said. “So I said if they are going to move, I am going to open up a little business — like a card shop or something.”

Someone told her she should open up a tavern.

“I said no. I don’t drink and I’m not interested,” she said. “But another lady said she was going to go into business; so why don’t we go look at it [the tavern] and we will see what it is and maybe we’ll go into a partnership.

“We came to look at it and this was empty — dirty, terrible. And I said no. The landlord who owned it said he would clean it up and all that. And I still said no.”

The lady said they’d be partners and her mother and father would move in with them and Rosie would be a silent partner.

“I said that would be good — a silent partner,” Rosie said.

So GE shut down for three weeks and they worked on a partnership.

“Her mother and father lived in Lakeport. We decided to go in partnership,” she said. “I was supposed to be just a silent partner. Her mother and father moved in upstairs and business was good — it was a good business.”

But after a while though, the mother and father didn’t want to stay.

“So I quit GE and came here and was her partner. I was her partner for eight years,” she added. “I didn’t want to be partners no more. I couldn’t ever take a vacation.”

Rosie asked her to buy her out or she’d buy Rosie out.

“She wouldn’t buy me out, so I bought her out,” she said. “In 1975, I bought her out.”

They rented the place originally.

“We didn’t buy it. We rented it from Tommy Vescio — a big builder, construction worker,” she said. “I meant to open a card shop or something like that — something small. But I ended up with this. Three years after buying her out, I bought the place.”

But 1975 was a bad year for Rosie.

“I bought her out and my nephew come to see me. He had a problem. His wife was from Taiwan; he married her there and brought her here and they had a 9-month-old baby,” she said. “She went back to Taiwan and left him with a 9-month-old baby and he asked me to help him with the baby. Now I just bought this business from my partner and now I have a 9-month-old baby to raise. I still got her. He never raised her. She is going to be 50 in March. I raised her here. She went to Hannibal schools and then she went to college and now she lives in Florida. She is married and has a child of her own.”

COVID-19 impact

It was a good business, “a real good business before COVID,” she added.

“Before COVID, this bar used to be packed during the day with retired men. It was their social gathering place. Old retired men, this use to be their hangout. They are all gone now, they’re all gone,” she said. “My day shift is quiet now, everybody is quiet. Most bars are opening at 3 or 4 o’clock in the afternoon now. I open up at 11 every day except Sunday, Sunday I’m closed. I’m carrying the whole load myself. I do all the ordering. I do all the cleaning. I do it all,” she said. She turned 99 in February. She has an employee, Jean, who has been with her for more than 20 years, she added.

“I plow my own driveway, mow my own yard. I plowed this morning — you better put that in my article! ninety-nine and still plowing my own driveway, get the horse shoe pits ready for the horse shoe players. You better put this all in my article, too. I put up guards so snowmobiles don’t run over the stakes. That wouldn’t be good. I keep them covered so the snowmobilers don’t hit them; that would really damage their snowmobile,” she said. “I want the people to know I do this. This is what keeps me young — always doing something, always working. My whole family was long lived. My brother just died last year [2023] at 99. My mother and father died at 85 and 86. I had a sister that died at 92.”

A lot of businesses in the Fulton area are gone and nobody’s replaced them, she lamented.

“The city of Fulton has gotten smaller as far as retirees, you know. I’m still here. I was born in 1926 in Solvay — grew up in Solvay — went to Solvay school,” she said. “My parents made me work when I was young. My parents came from Italy. My father had a farm. I was maybe 13 years old and he had a flatbed truck; him and my uncle would pitch hay up on it. I couldn’t reach the gas pedal … but that’s how I learned how to drive. I learned to drive on a standard.

“I worked hard. I’m glad that they brought me up like that. My father bought a farm in Camillus, that’s where I was born, but I grew up in Solvay. A while after I was born my mother didn’t want to live on a farm anymore. So my father moved us to Solvay.”

Retirement isn’t an option

“I’m going to finish my life here,” she said. “The girl I raised, my daughter — I call her my daughter — wants me to sell everything and move to Florida. Why should I disrupt my apartment upstairs, which is very beautiful, just for the next what three years maybe? How long do you think I’ll last?

In the late ‘90s, she was served on the town council. She found out how high the taxes were in Granby.

“We were the second highest in the county. I thought it was unfair, so I called Albany — before I was actually on the town council. They said take pictures of properties and then check their taxes to see how they are equal,” she said. “I did that for a whole summer. I drove myself to Albany and they said, ‘you need help in Granby.’ They couldn’t come to Granby unless the town council OK’d it.

“So I rented the War Memorial out of my pocket and the town council had a meeting there so the whole town could come and hear it. And the town board turned it down,” she added.

“So the next year the Democrats in Granby come to see me to see if I’d run for town council,” she continued. We Democrats ran for councilor, supervisor and we won. The first thing I did was get Albany here — and today, because of what I did, today we are the second lowest tax-wise. I’m proud of doing all of that, what I did. And I still look out for the people.”

Still playing pool

Bob Phelps said he “has been coming to Rosie’s 40 some years. She’s just amazing. A lot of the guys would stop here after work; a lot of the retirees hung out here, too.”

Does Rosie have any hobbies? “Plowing her driveway, mowing her lawn,” he quipped, adding “she can beat most of the people in here playing pool.”

“She plays a mean game of pool and can beat many of the younger players,” added Amy Gagliano, another of Rosie’s patrons. “The best part is her pool stick; she bought it many years ago for about 50 cents. She says it’s crooked, bent and old like her.”

“I still play pool, just fool around with it. I have a $1 cue stick. It’s cracked; got it years ago at a yard sale. Some guys come in with their $200 stick and I have a dollar stick,” Rosie said with a laugh.

Like family

Some patrons that go to Rosie’s Tavern today are three to four generation families that have been there for years, Amy pointed out.

“This is just a neighborhood saloon. The people that come in here are like my family, my friends — my family. I know them and their parents and sometimes even grandparents,” Rosie said.

“One young guy come in here one day and he said, ‘you don’t know me, but I use to come in here with my grandfather and I sat right at that table and I watched you and my grandfather shoot pool.’ And he told me his name and I said, ‘oh my God, I remember.’ The generations go down and they come in and they tell me stories. I love it when they come in and talk like that; when people come in like that it does me great.”

Tomboy

Her brother asked her to come watch him play ball at a diamond in Syracuse years ago.

“I’m sitting in the bleachers and he comes over and says, ‘Rosie we got a problem. We’re one man short and we don’t want to give up the game. Would you come and play?’ I was the first woman to play under the lights at that field. They put me in right field,” she said. “I was a tomboy. I don’t remember my batting average. I love baseball. I don’t like football or anything like that. But I love baseball. I’m a Mets fan.”

Rosie is also a unique joke teller, Amy said.

“Over the years, Rosie has told a collection of jokes with anybody that stops in her establishment. It is a place you do not walk out of without laughing — especially when she gets on a roll of telling them,” she said. “She always said, ‘if you can’t laugh at them, you have no humor in your life.’ Rosie has a group of patrons that come from Rochester several times a year specifically see her for her jokes and a warm atmosphere. The men come in first and their partners follow while passing through, heading North, for their vacations.

“It’s a true family-oriented atmosphere that makes it a true tavern atmosphere. Everyone is treated the same, whether it is your first time being there or a regular patron.”

Rosie’s Tavern was established in 1967 and is located at 435 county Route 3 in Fulton. Rosie lives upstairs from the bar and works every day of the week.