The weekend of Oct. 10, the remnants of Ironbark Ciderworks lay partitioned neatly into bins. Drill bits, patio string lights and a bright red counter were all for sale at steep discounts. Behind the counter sat Jim Coffman, co-owner of Ironbark Ciderworks, watching as the Claremont bar he and his wife built over nine years was dismantled.
Ironbark Ciderworks closed on Oct. 3 after being in business for just under a decade. The bar was largely beloved by the Claremont community and 7C students, and comes amid the nation-wide closure of craft breweries over the last few years, reflecting a maturing beer market and changing consumer preferences.
Speaking about opening the bar, Coffman described the vision that had driven him and his wife to create a shared community space.
“It was my wife’s dream,” Coffman said.
Over the years, Ironbark became known among students for their trivia nights, karaoke parties, comedy shows and occasionally mosh pits.
“You have to get there a half an hour before to get a table,” Lela Tilney-Kaemmer SC ’27 said of their crowded Thursday night trivia sessions.
While 7C students were drawn to trivia as a way to see friends and meet new people, local community members sought out the small cultural hub that Coffman and his wife had created out of the unassuming space.
This aspiration wasn’t lost on students.
“I’ve had nothing but positive experiences there,” said Tilney-Kaemmer. “I feel like it’s a very accepting place … it’s made for a wide variety of audiences.”
“I’ve had nothing but positive experiences there,” said Tilney-Kaemmer. “I feel like it’s a very accepting place … it’s made for a wide variety of audiences.”
More than anything, Coffman emphasized that the bar was a safe space for all.
Ironbark, Coffman said, existed from the beginning as a space rooted in its house rules, which read, “Iron Bark is a safe, inclusive space. Please don’t touch anyone without their permission, or say/do anything sexist, misogynist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, ableist, sizeist or any other form of derogatory behavior.”
More than a business, Coffman described the bar as a tight-knit, inclusive community — a place that stood for something. It was a place where people could go and be comfortable expressing themselves. Coffman remarked on the multiple younger people he had “adopted,” regulars and employees who seemed equally committed to the bar. He also painted the bar as an enclave for people of color and queer people.
“60 to 70% of [customers] were non-white and LGBTQ+,” he said.
This, he speculated, was one of the reasons the bar was now going out of business. He recounted that after President Donald Trump got elected, and after the COVID-19 pandemic, customers waned.
In addition to being a place for community members to congregate, Ironbark provided students with an opportunity to feel enmeshed in the Claremont community outside of the campus bubble.
“Especially when you’re in college, it can be hard sometimes to find the time to bond with your friends in a space that’s not on campus,” said Tilney-Kaemmer.
Chloe Flynn PZ ’27, who frequented the bar, echoed Tilney-Kaemmer’s sentiment.
“So much of the 5Cs’ social life is centered on campus, and it can feel very insulated … it’s nice being around real adults,” Flynn said. “I’m really sad [Ironbark] closed.”
Ironbark was located only a block away from Pitzer’s north end, making it easily accessible for students craving a change in scenery. Both Tilney-Kaemmer and Flynn felt like the environment during trivia nights prompted unexpected connections.
“[Trivia] is a concentrated effort to do one task, and I think that is really fun and can bring together so many different types of people,” said Tilney-Kaemmer.
Students and the community will find new spaces, but Ironbark’s closure leaves behind more than an empty store front. It marks the loss of a place where students and Claremont residents could find common ground.
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