For more than 50 years, the Little Club has been one of Coronado’s most loved bars. It was small, dark, and simple; a place where locals shared stories, newcomers were welcomed, and time felt like it moved more slowly. As the bar prepares to close its doors later this month, the community is losing more than just a local watering hole.
The Little Club has sat quietly on Orange Avenue for decades. It was not fancy. There were no craft cocktails, no special playlists, and no trendy decor. There was a jukebox, a pool table, strong drinks, and a steady crowd of regulars.
Its closure marks the end of an era, both for Coronado’s nightlife and for the kind of community that forms in a small-town dive bar. For many people, the Little Club was the first stop after a long day at work or the last stop after a long night out. It was a constant in a town that is ever-changing.
Most people who have spent time in Coronado either have a Little Club story or know someone who does. The well-loved pool table and faded decor showed exactly what the place stood for: comfort over style, and familiarity over constant change.
What truly made the Little Club special, though, were the people. The staff knew your name, your shot of choice, and often what was going on in your life.
For those who have frequented—or even just stepped foot once—inside the storied establishment, you are sure to know a spitfire bartender by the name of Laurie. Quick with a side-eye, a sharp one-liner, or a kiss on the cheek (depending on what you deserved in the moment), she became inseparable from the bar’s identity.
While Little Club staff have not spoken publicly about the bar’s closure, when I asked Laurie to regale me with some Little Club stories for this article, she simply responded: “I don’t kiss and tell.”
That one line says everything you need to know about Little Club’s code. Regulars talk about the bar’s past with quiet respect. There were late nights that turned into early mornings, surprise reunions, and calm weeknights when the same small group of people always seemed to be sitting in the same seats.
Many locals and visitors also have a tradition of celebrating holidays at the bar, from Super Bowl Sunday to Christmas Eve and Saint Patrick’s Day. Especially notable was the annual Thanksgiving feast, where staff and regulars filled the pool table with tray after tray of home-cooked food. The spread always included turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, and more. The meal was free, and everyone was invited. Attending a Little Club Thanksgiving showcased the bar’s genuine spirit: a welcoming space filled with care, love, and constant laughter.
News of the closure has been difficult for Coronado residents. For longtime locals, it is another sign that the island is changing. Old hangouts are disappearing, and new businesses are taking their place. Change is expected, but it still feels like a loss.
The Little Club was a place where everyone was on equal footing. You didn’t need a special reason to be there, or a certain look. You could walk in wearing flip-flops and a T-shirt after the beach, or dress shoes and a blazer after a formal event. In fact, my husband and I spent the late hours on the night of our own wedding there, playing pool and sipping beer. Whoever you are, once inside, you see the same neon lights and hear the same clinking of glasses.
Without the Little Club, there will be a real gap, not only in the local bar scene but also in the daily rhythm of life in Coronado. The casual habit of dropping in “just for one drink,” only to end up talking for hours with strangers who became friends, will be harder to find.
Even when the lights go off for the last time, and the barstools are removed, Little Club will live on in inside jokes, in stories that begin with, “Remember that night at Little Club…,” and in the many friendships and relationships that started and blossomed there.
At the center of many of those memories is the staff — Laurie, Paul, Ashliegh, Cain, Megan, Jasmine, Emily, and so many more who have graced the bar over the years… Moving quickly, making people laugh, listening when it mattered, and creating an unmatched environment.
The Little Club may be closing, but its legacy is secure. Additionally, several sources within the Little Club family express hope that this closure will not be permanent. Allegedly, the owner and staff are planning to box up their bar and place the contents in storage, hopeful that a new location will find them soon. Until then, let the weeks-long “farewell” party begin.
VOL. 116, NO. 10 – Mar. 11, 2026