Goodland’s Little Bar

The Little Bar in Goodland is undoubtedly one of the favorite restaurants in the Marco Island area. However, few current residents had even visited Marco Island when the beloved establishment turned from a rough and tumble “Little Bar” into the landmark seafood restaurant it is today. 

Manager Jamie Bozicnik, the daughter and niece of co-owners Ray Bozicnik and Niki Bauer, has grown up in the restaurant she affectionately calls her home. 

“We’ve been here 41 years now,” Bozicnik began as she discussed the restaurant. “The dining room behind the bar is actually the main building. It used to be a grocery store prior to becoming the restaurant that it is now. I know somebody’s driven into the building before. It’s all been added onto slowly. Every year, a little change here, a little change there. Nothing too large. The bar’s expanded. The bar back was just like plywood on top of barrels for a while when my dad and aunt started. It’s always been a brother-sister team.” 

The Little Bar has been Bozicnik’s home her entire life. 

“I always came in when I was younger,” she recalls. “I would help the hostesses and I’d carry the wine list for them. When I was 14, I started bussing and dishwashing. When I turned 18, I learned to serve. I went to college, and when I came back, I started to manage when I was 25. I went to Northern Arizona University. In the desert; a little different than the swamp. 

“It feels like home. I get exhausted because I work a lot. I’ll say, ‘I’m heading home,’ and this is home—the restaurant. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but it’s comfortable. And what I love about it is every day is different. Maybe the joke is that the menu hasn’t changed in over 35 years, but every day is different. I really like that. And I love the people I work with—a lot, a lot, a lot. They’re really amazing. They’re all really amazing. They’re good people.” 

In the early-to-mid 1970s, the Little Bar was a rough spot on the island. A longtime islander and friend of the Little Bar spoke on the condition of anonymity. 

“When I got here in 1972, this was the Goodland Beer Bar and Stevie Comacho’s dad was the bartender,” she said. “Some nights you could literally get a knife between your ribs in here. Because there were fishermen and crabbers in here—hard–living guys.” 

Bozicnik has heard the stories from her mother. 

“My mom worked at the Fish House when she first moved down here and she wouldn’t set foot in here because it was terrifying to her,” Bozicnik explained. “She felt like it was too much of a riff-raffy place before. My dad has told me some stories of dealing with some people. That was in the 1980s. If you have ever watched Cocaine Cowboys or Square Grouper and know the history of this area—and Everglades City—those were the type of people who were around. And you have to know how to deal with that.” 

Ray Bozicnik and his sister Niki Bauer eased into the restaurant business. There was a small enterprise doing business in the building when the siblings took over. It was called Goodland Groceries. Papa Ray Bozicnik moved his butcher from Andy’s Steak House down and he ran a meat market there into the early 80s. Ray and Niki would make a pot of soup every day and sell it at the bar. 

“When it was just a bar, I know that my dad and my aunt would make one pot of soup they would serve,” Jamie Bozicnik said. “And the pool table was tiny, and you only could use sawed–off cue sticks. So that’s always funny.  

“They started with this small grocery store, and it turned into a bar selling sandwiches and it progressed from there. In the 80s they were the number one Perrier-Jouet sellers. They were presented with the mirror on the wall of the dining room for being the number one Perrier-Jouet sellers on the eastern seaboard. When the guy came in to present the mirror to them, he said, ‘I think I have the wrong place. This was to go to the Little Bar Restaurant for selling the most bottles. I don’t think I’m in the right place.’ So that’s always interesting.” 

There is no doubt that Ray and Niki benefited from their father’s restaurant expertise. Andy’s Steak House was an upscale restaurant in Oakbrook, Illinois. The Bozicnik family lived above the restaurant—for a while at least. 

“When my dad was first born, they lived in an apartment above Andy’s and my grandmother decided they had to move when she went to see what my dad was up to,” Jamie Bozicnik remarked. “He was two years old and sitting at the bar and he said, ‘Hey Mom, I’m drinkin’ some booze.’ She said, ‘Nope, we’re going to move.’ 

Regulars at the Little Bar would not be surprised at all to hear that story about a young Ray Bozicnik, whose quirky personality runs throughout the staff of the Little Bar. 

“That’s him in a nutshell,” Jamie said with a laugh. “Always an off-the-wall comment. So, he’s been true to form from the very beginning. He’s a good storyteller. He’s good at spinning the yarns. He’s definitely still very much a part of the whole system here. But he’s enjoying not having to be here 24/7 anymore. You’re on call 24/7. If anything happens, you’re going to get the phone call. He knows how to fix everything. He’s learned how to do air conditioning, plumbing, electric. At least to the point that it will get by until somebody can come in to fix it properly. He definitely has an engineering mind. I’m just like, ‘Tell me what to do. I have no idea how a compressor works. Just tell me what to look for!’ He knows how to fix everything and usually has a solution for everything. That’s pretty cool.” 

Besides their excellent food and waterfront location, it is the Little Bar’s quirkiness, or uniqueness, that customers love. Besides the personalities on–staff, there have always been a number of beloved characters who have made the Little Bar their second home over the years.  

“I didn’t know any of the characters in their wild days, per se,” stated Jamie. “One of the characters who come to my mind is Denver. Denver was quite the character. He was a long-distance hiker. Used to have a flashy red Corvette and used to have quite the temper. He was quite an interesting fellow. By saying that I knew Denver, I didn’t know him as a young man. By the time I knew Denver he had become quite reclusive. He had the coolest trailer. You didn’t even know it was in there. There was mother-in-law’s tongue and oak trees covered in moss. You kinda had to go through this forest to get to his place.  

“My mom would get him groceries. I remember going with her to drop off the groceries and visit with him and be with him because he wasn’t healthy at that point. But I’ve recently learned some stories about him.” 

Our Anonymous Friend of the Little Bar knew Denver well. 

“He had the word ‘Sweet’ tattooed under one nipple and the word ‘Sour’ tattooed under the other,” the Anonymous Friend said. “When I was 18-19, he seemed like a physically imposing person. He was only 61 when he died—and he was small. His sister gave me his denim jacket and I could hardly button it. But the force of his personality was so strong that he came off as being more physically imposing than he was. He lived large and lived fast. He was quite the character—and a good one. He was definitely a beloved guy.” 

Family roots have run deep through the history of the Little Bar. 

“Yes, it’s my dad and my aunt’s restaurant, but it’s always been a family affair,” Jamie Bozicnik confirmed. ”In the early days there was the daily soup with the beer and the wine, and it progressed from there. It turned into an actual restaurant in 1983-84. For sure, there were definitely some lean years. I think there was always an increase—but it fluctuated. They always worked within their means. I don’t think they ever expanded without the funds being there.  

“I think having my grandfather, who had his restaurant, had to help. My grandmother always did the books. Once my mom married my dad, maybe five years after that, my grandmother taught her how to do the books as well. It’s always kind of been in the family. My grandfather I don’t remember as well; I was 2 or 4 when he passed. My dad and my aunt’s mom passed away during my freshman year of high school. She did the books for a long time. She was the most organized woman I ever met. She was extremely organized. She had her own system and it worked. Old calculators, no computers. It was incredible.” 

Jamie Bozicnik has a lot of responsibility for a 32-year-old. 

“I’m the manager; I have an assistant manager. I do the hiring, I do the ordering every day, the fish order, the produce, bulk items. I’m in charge of any HR—which is a lot. I used to do bill entry and payroll, but now I just check those things. My other aunt does those things now. My aunt Niki still does all the music booking and is in charge of the retail. She’s a huge help. She goes to the store if we need anything. And my dad does the advertising and all of the legal things that I really don’t understand yet. He’s turning 70 on March 23—probably have a party afterward. He’s turning 70 during season and we don’t have time! We’ll celebrate at the end of April, probably. That’s when he’ll get celebrated. What were they thinking having a child in March? Come on! That’s just ridiculous.” 

Our Anonymous Friend said Jamie Bozicnik is very respected in her role as manager. 

“Every one of these girls will tell you,” our source said, “Jamie won’t ask you to do something she hasn’t already done twenty times before. I bet she can take apart the dishwasher and put it back together. She’s done everything else. Picks stuff up off the floor, bandages bloody people. She does it all. Even the toilet thing. She picks up the ball and runs with it. Anybody who sees what’s going on around here sees it. 

“This is really the community center here,” our source continued, “everybody comes here at least once a week. I don’t think there is anybody on Goodland that doesn’t come here at least once a week. Even if it’s just for one beer and some free meatballs. Or the shrimp on Friday. You find out what’s going on when you stop by here.”  

 Taking over as manager at 25 was a bit overwhelming for Jamie. 

“Oh yeah, definitely,” she confirmed. “For sure. You’re coming from college. Your lifestyle is school and like a part-time job. Here, you’re managing people and you have to think about the words that you’re going to use when you’re communicating with people. And have your eyes open to everything. Having your eyes open is probably the largest thing you can take away from a job like this. When you walk past something you have to notice what is going on. What are the temperatures in the coolers, how’s somebody acting, how are the computers going? If this is low, if this isn’t happening. It’s like taking in as much as possible.  

“We have some new babies coming into the extended family. What I try to do is observe as much as possible, it’s kind of sensory overload. You’re trying to take in as much as possible. In the beginning, my hands were not in everything as they are now. It was definitely a slow progression to what I am now in charge of—which has been awesome. They didn’t just throw me to the wolves. ‘We’re going to do this for a while together. And you’re going to learn.’ My dad and I worked really, really well together. We’re lucky. Because you don’t always work well with your family. And my aunt and I work really well together. I haven’t asked her much about the music yet, because it seems really daunting. Trying to organize all of the scheduling. She’s doing music every day. Getting that schedule together. 

“I think the music is a drawing factor. I think if we didn’t have the music scene that we have that it wouldn’t be the Little Bar. In my opinion, when you think Little Bar, you think great food, but you also think amazing music. The people that she gets to play here is partly because they’ve heard from other musicians who come here. She just takes such good care of the musicians who come here. She really makes people feel very welcome and comfortable—and I think that it’s a cool spot. A lot of people pack into that bar to listen to bands, it’s a different atmosphere, and I think it’s really cool. So, I think the music is very important. Just as important as who’s on the line cooking. 

Jamie appreciates the long-tenured help that is also a staple of the Little Bar. 

“Across the board, we have some servers here that have been here over 25 years. They’re amazing people. People in the kitchen that have been here over 20 years. They’ve watched me grow up. Our bartenders have been here for 15-plus years. Even though we close three months a year, we are able to maintain our core group of people who always come back season-after-season. Because we all work together; it’s a team. We watch out for each other. I’m so lucky for the people I get to work with; there’s trust and camaraderie. They’re just so awesome; I’m so lucky. There’s a lot of people who really care.  

“You can’t ask everybody to have that attitude about who they’re working for. But it’s just that attitude that people believe in the Little Bar and what it stands for and want to help keep it going. They care about the customer’s experience because they care about the restaurant—which is really cool. We’re the luckiest people in the world. We really are very lucky.” 

Jamie recognizes that the Little Bar has a reputation for being quirky, or different than other restaurants. And she knows where it comes from. 

“I think it comes from my dad and my aunt,” stated Jamie. “There’s a picture of them when they were kids with my grandpa. And he’s in a bra, in a suit, for I don’t know if it was Halloween or what. But for someone who was born in the 1920s, to feel comfortable enough to be weird in that way and not to think that his character was being assassinated, I think it is pretty impressive. Both my aunt and my dad are very interesting people as well. I think because of their willingness to be true to themselves it allows other people to feel the same way. 

“It definitely trickles down to the staff. Oh, yeah! The dress–up night is ridiculous. People are into it. We dress up every Thursday. They get weird with it and it’s awesome. You have enough restaurants that don’t show truly who they are. I think people want a genuine experience—and let your personality come through. Yes, we’re professional, but we’re also gonna be who we are with no apologies.” 

The time the Little Bar is at its quirkiest comes during the annual Spammy Jammie. 

“Spammy Jammie. It’s an important part of what we do here. I remember that as a little kid; I couldn’t wait until I could stay late. It was always fun. I remember thinking of my costumes when I was in high school. I never stayed after dinner. My parents are parents first, and they cared about how I grew up. So, you’re not allowed to be a part of things until you’re old enough and prepared to make the right decisions in those situations. There’s no reason for a 14-year old to stay after dinner. Go home. No, you’re not invited, I’m sorry.  

“They definitely get crazy at Spammy Jammie,” she recounted. “The bartender Alli and I were just talking about it. She said, ‘It’s the biggest adult pajama party in Florida.’ I loved how she stated that. It’s to ward off the hurricanes and it’s our nice going away party for the summer. And to say thank you. I know it’s kind of crazy, but I think that it really works. This area got hit by Irma really hard, but we got very lucky. We had minimal damage. We lost our screens and we lost a couple of shingles on the roof. We lost our green fencing outside. We lost a palm tree. We lost our floating dock that was falling apart anyway. We opened up a week or two later than we usually do. But that was to make sure our employees were able to do what they needed to do to fix their homes before coming to work. My dad and my aunt really felt you couldn’t expect people to work and not have a place to go home to. We didn’t open until the main part of the staff was ready to come back. It’s really impressive the tone my aunt and dad take. They’re business people, but they also know that it takes everyone to make it work. You can’t do it without everybody. I like that.” 

There are a lot of nooks and crannies at the Little Bar. Jamie was happy to give us a tour. 

“The bar is over 100 years old. It came from Cicero, Illinois, and it’s rumored that Al Capone visited the bar, but we don’t have it in writing or pictures. I asked my dad about the mafia. He said there were people who came to the bar—at Andy’s Steak House—that would keep to themselves and have discussions in the corner. But I don’t think that he had to pay anybody off or had to stay open for anybody in the mafia. I don’t think it was that involved, but I think that there were definitely people you didn’t want to interact with. 

“The outside is the newest part of the restaurant. It didn’t start until I was in high school and college. The porch was added onto three times. The wood in the boat room was recovered from the Star of the Everglades. It was a pleasure barge that was rumored to have had two presidents that had enjoyed the boat. Our old bartender, Billy O who lives on the island, had purchased this boat and was living on it. It was in disrepair and they salvaged all the wood. Uncle Gene, who was in the Vietnam War, he did a lot of the woodwork and put the boat room together to what it is now.  

“I don’t know whose idea it was to make the pipe organ into the wall in between the bar and the dining room. I just know that they salvaged the pipes from Alabama. It’s crazy. All the doors along the wall in the dining room are from the farmhouse my dad and aunt grew up in. The arched doorway is from their grandmother’s house. The stained glass—throughout the restaurant—is from their optometrist’s office in Illinois.” 

 The Papa Ray room is the family room. There are photos from Andy’s Steak House and family photos.  

“The Papa Ray room is for when we’re really busy,” Jamie said. “It has the best acoustics. I like it. It’s cozy.” 

The Little Bar brings in their meat from the Midwest. 

“It’s just quality control. It’s not the center of our menu, but we always have good beef and it’s something we keep tabs on. If something starts slipping, we talk to our purveyors. We want to maintain our quality. Our ribeye and our strips come from one farm in the Midwest. It’s pretty cool.” 

The work is hard, the hours are long, but there is nowhere else Jamie Bozicnik would want to be. 

“I’m happy to be here. I’m happy to be around family. I still have a lot to learn. When you compare yourself to somebody who’s been doing it here for 41 years, you feel like you don’t know anything. Just based on knowledge, I know I’m going to approach things differently because I’m a different person than my aunt and my dad. But with their guidance, I think I make good choices. Of course, it’s frustrating that I don’t have all the answers. I haven’t had every situation yet. I don’t know what’s supposed to be done in certain situations, but you have the wealth of knowledge of the previous generation, so I’m going to use it. They know what they’re doing, they’ve been here for so long. So, we’re here, and I’m happy to be here, especially with their help.”