Why Julius Bar West Village Is Still the Neighborhood's Most Important Corner

You’ve probably walked past it a dozen times without realizing you were looking at a revolution. 159 West 10th Street isn't flashy. It doesn't have a velvet rope or a neon sign that screams for attention. It’s just Julius Bar West Village, a low-slung brick building with yellowed windows and a smell that oscillates between grilled burgers and decades of spilled beer. Honestly, if you didn’t know the history, you’d think it was just another dive where the floor is a little too sticky.

But it isn’t.

Before Stonewall—the 1969 riot everyone learns about in history class—there was the Sip-In at Julius’. In 1966, three years before the bricks started flying down the street, three men from the Mattachine Society walked in here to challenge a law that basically said serving a gay person was "disorderly." They were told to leave. They didn't just leave; they changed the world.

Today, it’s one of the oldest operating bars in the city, and somehow, it has managed to stay exactly what it needs to be: a neighborhood joint.

The Sip-In That Started Everything

Back in the mid-sixties, being gay in New York City was technically legal, but "socializing while gay" was a legal nightmare. The State Liquor Authority (SLA) had these archaic rules. They could yank a liquor license if a bar became a "disorderly house." In the eyes of the law, the mere presence of a homosexual person made an establishment disorderly. It’s wild to think about now, but bartenders were legitimately terrified of losing their livelihoods just for pouring a drink for the wrong guy.

Dick Leitsch, Craig Rodwell, and John Timmons—members of the Mattachine Society—decided they’d had enough. They wore suits. They looked like the most "respectable" guys you could imagine. On April 21, 1966, they went to a few different spots before landing at Julius’.

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The bartender there was actually a guy named Gene Rice. When they told him they were gay and intended to stay for a drink, he famously put his hand over the glass and refused them service. A photographer from the New York Times caught the moment. That single photo blew the doors off the SLA's discriminatory policies. It proved that the "disorderly" part wasn't the customers; it was the law.

It’s Actually Older Than You Think

While the 1966 Sip-In is the headliner, the building itself is ancient by Manhattan standards. It started as a grocery store in the mid-1800s. By 1864, it had converted into a bar. You can still see the bones of that era if you look past the sports memorabilia and the dusty bottles. The bar itself is a massive piece of dark wood that has probably seen more secrets than a confessional booth.

People often get confused about when it became a "gay bar." It wasn't an overnight flip. In the 40s and 50s, it was a popular spot for celebrities and writers—Walter Winchell was a regular. It gradually transitioned into a gay-friendly space because it was tucked away, a bit dark, and the staff was generally "don't ask, don't tell." By the time the Mattachine Society showed up, it was known as a place where you could find community, even if you had to be quiet about it.

The Burger: A West Village Miracle

Let’s talk about the food. You don't go to a historic landmark for the culinary innovation, usually. You go because you want to feel the ghosts of the past. But Julius Bar West Village is famous for its burgers for a reason. They are served on paper plates. There is no brioche bun. There is no truffle aioli.

It’s just a flat-top charred patty that tastes like 1974.

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The kitchen is tiny. It’s basically a corner of the bar. Watching the cook flip burgers while a drag queen sips a vodka soda two feet away is the peak New York experience. It’s unpretentious. In a neighborhood that has become increasingly sanitized and expensive—where a studio apartment costs more than a small yacht—Julius’ remains weirdly affordable.

• The Julius Burger: Thick, juicy, and messy.
• The Atmosphere: No-frills.
• The Crowd: A mix of 80-year-old locals who have been coming since the Nixon administration and NYU students who just discovered "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" (which, by the way, filmed scenes here).

Why It Almost Disappeared

History doesn't pay the rent in Manhattan. For years, there was a looming fear that Julius’ would go the way of so many other West Village staples—turned into a high-end boutique or a bank. The building wasn't landmarked for a long time.

In 2012, it finally gained a spot on the National Register of Historic Places. Then, in 2022, the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission officially designated it an individual landmark. This was huge. It means the exterior can't be ripped down and replaced with glass and steel. It’s a victory for the community, but more importantly, it’s a victory for the concept of "the third place." We need places that aren't home and aren't work, where the entry fee is just the price of a beer.

The Reality of Visiting Today

If you show up on a Saturday night, it’s going to be loud. It’s going to be crowded. You might get bumped into. If you’re looking for a quiet, romantic lounge with soft lighting and craft cocktails, go somewhere else. Julius’ is a pub.

The music is usually a mix of show tunes and pop classics. The decor is a chaotic jumble of old photos, newspaper clippings about the Sip-In, and holiday decorations that seem to stay up just a little too long. It’s cozy in the winter and sweltering in the summer.

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One thing people often overlook is the "Mattachine" party. Once a month, the bar hosts a vintage-themed night that pays homage to the 1960s roots. It’s one of the few times you’ll see people really leaning into the history of the space, dressing up in mid-century attire and dancing to era-appropriate music. It’s a bridge between the struggle of the past and the celebration of the present.

What You Should Know Before You Go

1. Bring Cash: They take cards now, but the vibe is very much "cash is king." It speeds things up at the bar.
2. Don't Be a Tourist: Even if you are one. Respect the regulars. This is their living room.
3. Look at the Walls: The photos aren't just random decor. They are a timeline of LGBTQ+ life in New York. Take five minutes to actually read the clippings.
4. Order the Burger: Seriously. Don't overthink it. Just do it.

The Misconception of "The Oldest"

You'll hear people argue about which bar is the oldest gay bar in New York. Some say it's Julius’. Others point to spots that have moved locations or changed names. Julius’ has the strongest claim to longevity in its original skin. It hasn't tried to modernize. It hasn't tried to "pivot" to attract a younger, wealthier demographic. It stayed Julius’.

That authenticity is rare. In a city that reinvents itself every six months, a place that refuses to change is a form of protest in itself. When you sit at that bar, you’re sitting where guys in 1966 risked their arrests and reputations just to be seen as human beings. You can feel that weight, but you can also feel the joy that came after.

How to Support Local Landmarks

The best way to keep Julius’ alive isn't just by taking a photo of the exterior for Instagram. It’s by buying a drink. It’s by showing up for their events. Small businesses in the West Village are under immense pressure from rising property taxes and operational costs.

If you want to dive deeper into the history, check out the resources provided by the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation (Village Preservation). They were instrumental in getting the bar landmarked. They host walking tours that put Julius’ in the context of the larger bohemian and activist history of the neighborhood.

Actionable Steps for Your Visit

• Visit during off-peak hours: Go on a Tuesday afternoon. Talk to the bartender. That’s when you’ll hear the best stories and get a real sense of the building's soul.
• Check the calendar: Look for the Mattachine parties or the "Big Gay Happy Hour" events. They are legendary.
• Educate yourself: Read up on the Mattachine Society before you walk through the door. Knowing the stakes of the 1966 Sip-In makes that first sip of beer taste a lot more significant.
• Explore the neighborhood: Pair your visit with a trip to the Stonewall National Monument and Christopher Park, which are just a few blocks away. It completes the narrative arc of the gay rights movement in the city.

Julius’ isn't a museum, even though it’s a landmark. It’s a living, breathing, slightly messy piece of New York City. It reminds us that progress doesn't always happen in a courtroom; sometimes, it happens at a bar, over a refusal to be ignored. Go for the history, but stay for the burger. You won't regret either.