Wagon Wheel

Michael Moore-Goad, the founder of Wizard's Pub, moved to Milwaukee in 1988. He was in a long-term relationship with David Marbry, a chemist who was transferred to Milwaukee and bought a house in Sherman Park. David was later Mr. Boot Camp and worked at Harbor Room.

In 1991, Michael partnered with a friend to open Wizard's. Coming from Michigan, where gay bars were not isolated to one area, it made sense to open a neighborhood bar to support Sherman Park's growing gay population.

"There were 28 gay bars in Milwaukee on the day we opened," said Michael. "To survive that level of competition, you really had to be unique and memorable."

At the time, the Sherman Park Rainbow Association was fostering a strong sense of community, restoring historic homes, and regenerating interest in the area. There was a tremendous investment of gay dollars into the neighborhood.

The location, near the on-ramp to the Stadium Freeway, seemed ideal. To build anticipation, they started advertising in InStep six months before they ever opened.

"I bought it for a song and a dance," said Michael. "We made substantial improvements to the property: HVAC, compressors, coolers, you name it.

Michael described the bar as "simply beautiful," with polished brass fixtures, dark carved woods, fresh roses and candles every six feet, and ferns hanging above. The bar had a basement kitchen, but Wizard's never charged anything for the food it served. 

"It was a neighborhood family bar," said Michael. "Sophistication with a twist."

"I loved the fact that when you opened the bathroom door, the urinal flushed automatically.  I hated cheap toilet paper, so I always made sure we had Charmin."

"It was little things like that, little things that made us a step above."

He laughs, "Except for the time Goldie Adams fell through the stage while performing." 

The bar opened on December 8, 1991 with a red, white, and blue "American Dream" theme party. 

Unfortunately, Wizard's struggled with a negative perception of the Uptown neighborhood. They offered specials, increased advertising, and even hired a security guard to walk people to/from their cars. They'd even shovel out and jump start cars in cold weather. Michael remembers running shuttle busses back and forth to Wick Field for softball tournaments -- every half hour on weekends.

The bar was robbed within the first few weeks, but the owners suspected an inside job.

"We didn't have any problem after that," said Michael. "And whenever people tried to throw negatives at us, we came back twice as hard."

To ensure everyone felt welcome, Michael hired a very diverse team, including a bartender who was very popular in the Black lesbian community.

"We worked around the clock. We were over capacity more times than I can count."

"It was a very difficult time for a lot of people," said Michael. "Dahmer had left us all in a state of shock. Hate crimes were happening all around us. AIDS was hitting full tilt."

"We lost 40, 50, 60 people in one year. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with. And then you'd turn on TV and see comedians doing AIDS jokes. It was such a cruel, cruel time to be alive."

"We wanted to create a place people could come to relax, feel safe, and be with their own kind, close to home. We wanted to make a positive impression on other people's lives."

Over time, that became more and more of a challenge, as the neighborhood continued to change.

One winter night in 1991, a young Black boy came to their door in a snowstorm. He was wearing only underwear and walking barefoot through a foot and a half of snow. He'd been robbed of everything, including his shoes, and he was no more than eight years old.

"It was a different place and a different time," said Michael. "I was actually scared to let him into the house, because I might be accused of a crime. I actually suspected I was being set up. I handed him a cordless phone, and kept him safe and warm outside, until his mother came to get him.

Michael and David moved to the Washington Highlands. In October 1992, they chose not to renew their liquor license.

"I could no longer guarantee the safety of my people, because gun crimes were escalating out of control," said Michael. "Safety was the line in the sand that I just couldn't cross."

"I never worked so hard, made so much money, and had so much fun," said Michael, "but at the same time, I never worked so hard in my life."

"I sold to Ralph's Lounge and moved on."

"For the longest time after the bar closed, people would come up to me and try to redeem Wizard's Pub drink tickets," said Michael. 

"I've been in the bar several times over the past 30 years, and it still has the same paint on the walls, the same blinds on the windows, the same woodwork in place. It's like walking back in time."