An oasis for the thirsty

The original owners, Frank DeSantis Sr. and Mary Victoria DeSantis, stand behind the bar, at center, in this undated snapshot with their son, Alfred, the bartender, at left.

Dominic DeSantis, who purchased the bar from his grandfather, Frank DeSantis Jr., changes craft beer offerings on the blackboard. ( ? )

Mike Tuite, center, who lives in the neighborhood, chats with barmaid Mari Wick in the midafternoon while nursing a Coors Light draft.

Bob Piercey of Dundalk takes a smoke outside the Venice Tavern. "When I get up to Highlandtown,” he said, “this is the first place I come. I like the atmosphere. It's quiet, never any trouble."

Regular customer Greg Adkins is reflected in a mirror, to the right of the portrait of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, which has hung over the bar since its beginning in 1933, when Prohibition was repealed.

Alfred Simmons started coming to the tavern after his retirement. He was in the military for 30 years, a VA benefits counselor and a teacher.

Venice Tavern, one of Highlandtown's last basement bars, has been serving beer and banter at South Conkling and Bank Streets since Prohibition was repealed in 1933. Mary Victoria and Frank DeSantis Sr. added a side stairwell to their corner house, leading to a compact bar serving shots, beer, and spaghetti with meatballs.

 Inside, a portrait of Franklin Roosevelt, the patron saint of Depression-era tavern owners, still hangs over the dimly lit bar. Another hero honored in this classic dive bar is Vince DeSantis, a lightweight boxer who ran the tavern with his brother, Frank DeSantis Jr., after their parents died. Ten years ago this month, Frank DeSantis Jr. sold the family watering hole to his grandson, Dominic DeSantis.

 Frank DeSantis Jr., 82, recalls when Italian, Polish and German families dominated this rowhouse neighborhood. When Dominic DeSantis took over, Venice Tavern was still a rough and rowdy joint for thirsty customers loyal to Bud, Pabst, and Miller High Life in cans. Dominic saw that the neighborhood was changing, and brought in $3 craft beers to attract a younger crowd. Today, the customers are young and old, white and black, with old-school local characters blending in with hipsters, Latinos, and doctors and nurses from Johns Hopkins Hospital. Some of the longtime customers are even trying the craft beers.