San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Boisterous barman loved to entertain
Harry Denton, a boisterous San Francisco barman who could command a room just by entering it — often in one of his 13 tuxedos — has died at 77.
Denton died in Seattle, where he had been living in the care of his brother, Jim Denton, since suffering a major stroke in San Francisco years ago. He never recovered and died last Sunday in a nursing home of natural causes, his brother said.
Expansive, completely unreserved and often called the Big Man, Denton liked to describe himself as an alcoholic, foodaholic, shopaholic and sexaholic. Also a funaholic.
“The way Harry portrayed owning a bar and restaurant made it look so fun and exciting that so many of us got into the business just because of him,” said Johnny “Love” Metheny, the owner of San Francisco’s Blue Light Bar, who worked the plank alongside the Big Man at the opening of Harry’s on Fillmore.
From there, Denton opened Harry’s Southside on Folsom Street, Harry Denton’s on Steuart Street, Harry Denton’s Starlight Room atop the Drake Hotel, and Harry Denton’s Rouge on Broadway. Years later, his stable of establishments contracted to just the Starlight Room, his final bar. Whether at ground level or 21 stories atop Union Square, he was the most jovial person in the room, with an earthquake of a laugh.
He seemed to know the name of everybody who went out at night in San Francisco, and seemed to be at all of his namesake clubs at once. He liked to come out from behind the bar and dance. He sent handwritten thank-you notes and roses with love notes on Valentine’s Day.
“He was the most loyal and caring friend,” Metheny said. “He put your needs above his at all times, whether you were an employee, a customer or a friend. He truly cared about people.”
Denton suffered a stroke and fall in his apartment on lower Nob Hill, where he lived alone, in July 2013. Discovered by a neighbor, he was taken by ambulance to St. Francis Memorial Hospital, where he lingered in critical care for a week.
Event planner Kimberly Bakker recalled that when she visited him at a skilled nursing facility, Denton cooked up a long-range plan for his 75th birthday party, which was to be a black-tie event at Bimbo’s 365 club with a full orchestra, white tablecloths covered in a thousand roses and former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown as master of ceremonies.
But he was moved to Queen Anne Healthcare in Washington state before these plans could be realized. He never made it home to his beloved top-floor corner apartment or his grand piano or his ribbon closet.
“From the moment I met him 30 years ago, we had an instant bond,” said Bakker, who relied on Denton’s advice when she opened Le Colonial in the historic location of Trader Vic’s.
Even in the nursing home in Seattle, he was entertaining to the loyal group of San Franciscans who flew up to visit him. Lying in bed, he liked to show off the tattoo on the bottom of his big toe. It read “tag here,” as if he were ready for the mortician. Always a showman and a shocker, Denton created the idea of Sunday’s a Drag, which lasted 12 years at the Starlight Room. He was a soft touch for any number of charitable causes, ranging from the annual Tenderloin Pool Toss, where he made a big splash in his tux, to hosting events for the Matthew Shepard Foundation to spread the word about intolerance.
“Harry brought the gay lifestyle into a downtown environment,” said drag performer Donna Sachet. “Harry liked to celebrate everything that San Francisco is.” Harry Tom Denton was born Nov. 3, 1943, and raised in Kimberly, Idaho. His dad, Bob, ran a packaging plant for beans and peas. Harry grew up a shy child who liked to play piano and help his moth
er, Harriet, shop for her clothes. He was president of his senior class at Kimberly High School.
“He was just as popular in high school as he was later in life,” said Jim, youngest of three brothers with Harry in the middle. “The girls loved him, and the guys loved him.”
After graduating in 1962, he entered the University of Idaho, where he was a member of the Phi Gamma Delta (Fiji) fraternity. In his sophomore year, Denton sold his extensive collection of pullover sweaters and caught a bus for San Francisco.
“He didn’t tell Mom or Dad,” Jim said. “He just headed out.”
Upon arrival, he got a job at a bank and an apartment in Daly City. He started hanging around the upscale bars of San Francisco and came under the wing of Norman Hobday,
who owned a bar called Henry Africa’s. Hobday hired Denton as a bartender, and that was the end of his life in banking and his apartment in Daly City.
“Whatever is a normal life, mine is the opposite,” he later told an interviewer.
He worked at various joints around town and gained fame as the host at the Washington Square Bar & Grill under another charismatic barman, Ed Moose. After leaving the Square, he opened a succession of bars and nightclubs bearing the name Harry’s.
When his empire was at its zenith in the 1990s, Denton shuttled among his bars in taxicabs, having given up driving long before. He brought a certain midcentury glamour to his saloons by sparing no expense of someone else’s money on decor. When he opened Rouge, he had a dancing chorus of women who did two revues nightly,
Harry Denton, shown in a former bedroom converted to a walk-in closet at his S.F. flat, was a consummate entertainer.
dancing on the bar in costumes he designed. When he opened the Starlight Room, he insisted on Egyptian drapes
and six dozen fresh roses always at the door.
But his empire wasn’t built to last. First he was convicted in a money-laundering scheme and lost control of Harry’s on Steuart Street; then one by one he lost control of the other joints. His contract with the operators of the Drake Hotel expired and was not renewed, and his name was taken down from all signage except the marquee.
There is still the original Harry’s Bar on Fillmore, but Denton had no connection with it. Before his stroke he talked of opening a bar with his old friend Andy Lucchesi, the Tommy Bahama model, but nothing came of it. He also talked of opening a joint with his buddy Johnny Love, but nothing came of that either. He was still talking about his next club, even in his last days in Seattle.
In the end, Harry Denton was a barman without a bar.
A memorial service is pending. Survivors include his brothers, Bob Denton and wife Chris, of Boise, Idaho; and Jim Denton and wife Johnnie of Bellevue, Wash.; three nieces; two nephews; and countless customers and loyal employees.