Karin Martin shows how tenacity, tradition and training combine to make her one of Ketchum's most successful businesswomen.
In the early hours of Sept. 15, 2008, Karin Martin stood on Main Street in Ketchum and cried. In front of her eyes 30 years of her life was going up in flames.
"We stood outside and watched it burn. There were so many people crying, even little kids. I was crying. It was devastating."
A few hours earlier she had been awakened by a telephone call.
"I remember sitting up in bed and saying to Jim, 'I hate late-night phone calls.'"
On the other end of the line was her general manager, Kristen Derrig. "Now, don't worry," she said. "But Dirty Little Roddy's is on fire."
Within minutes they were up and dressed, rushing into town to save as much as they could from the building adjoining the burning bar, the building that housed the business Martin had started 33 years earlier, Whiskey Jacques'.
Martin had arrived in Ketchum in 1976. A lawyer in San Francisco, she was seeking an escape from grinding, 14-hour days in a dingy office. Embracing the cool, clear air and fresh, clean water the little mountain town had to offer, she decided to find a way to stay here.
"For me, there were not a lot of opportunities here," Martin, 66, said of the job market then, and in some ways, now. "I could either work in a restaurant or a sporting goods store or own something."
The latter proved to be the path for Martin and her husband, Mike.
"An opportunity arose to purchase The Kneadery, which had only been in operation for six months. So we determined that we would do that."
They also bought an old bar on Main Street called the Alpine Saloon, which they rechristened Whiskey Jacques'. The Alpine was of particular appeal to Martin because of its history. Not only was it a classic Western bar, but it had once been frequented by Ernest Hemingway.
"Hemingway had eaten here and mentioned it in one of his books," she said "He and his dog Blackie would come in and have what he called 'the best steak in town.'"
A painting by Crosby DeMoss, which now greets patrons as they enter the rebuilt Whiskey Jacques', depicts the Hailey-born artist, Hemingway and Gary Cooper sitting under a tree dreaming about hunting.
After adding a third establishment to their portfolio (the Silver Dollar Saloon in Bellevue) Martin and her husband had a relatively prosperous mini-empire on their hands. But in 1985 the couple split and Martin went back to California. However, 10 years later she was back full-time, but facing a much tougher situation. Her ex-husband had kept The Kneadery, and Martin the two less profitable bars.
She set herself up in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment in Warm Springs ("We called it the Casa Guacamole!") and set about rebuilding her life here. Her biggest challenge was getting money.
"In the old days they didn't loan women money, I was fortunate in that I had a really good job (as a tax attorney in California), so from then on it wasn't so much of a problem to get money, as I was making money. But if you are a woman really starting out and don't have your own funds I think even today it's going to be more difficult."
Overall, however, she views the challenges she has faced as less to do with her gender and more with the universal struggles of making money in this town.
"There were some women already here (running restaurants). Chris Bender at the Christiania, Shannon Bealle ran the Casino, the Silver Dollar was run by a woman and the Western was run by Pam Copson. There's definitely been a strong tradition of women running restaurants and bars."
That tradition of the female bar owner in the Wild West is a long one. And Martin does feel a connection to the fictional depiction of her trade—the famous Miss Kitty of "Gunsmoke."
"I'll tell you a funny little story, Clint Eastwood would come often and he could never remember my name. So he said, 'I'm just gonna call you Whiskey Jacquelyn,'" she said. "So Kristen (whose nickname is Kitten) and I always kid each other that we're Miss Kitty running the bar. There's definitely a heritage there."
A heritage that Martin had not intended to follow.
"I didn't ever think I was going to be running a restaurant/nightclub in Idaho. I just got my law school alumni directory the other day. I'm looking in there and seeing judge this and U.S. Attorney that, and I come to my name and there it is 'Karin Martin—Whiskey Jacques' restaurant/nightclub Ketchum, Idaho.' Too hilarious!" she said, bursting into laughter.
Is she happy with the path she landed on?
"You know, we were always a fun bunch of baby boomers. We started the Ketchum prom, the idea for the Vaurnettes started at Whiskeys' as part of the Whoop Show, produced by Chris Millspaugh. It's been a lot of fun."
At a guess, a lot more fun than being a U.S. attorney.
Not to say there haven't been rough spots on that path. For her, an ongoing struggle is the issue of the town's growth and how to manage it, such as the increase in "the second homes and the (change) to the look of the town, which personally doesn't bother me."
"When we rebuilt Whiskey Jacques' and had to determine how we were going to look, I said I think we need to fit in with what's going on. This is a new town. Rightly or wrongly, what we have is a lot of newer, brick/stone buildings."
Finding that balance between Old West and New West is particularly pertinent for a businesswoman in one of the oldest professions in town.
"What bothers me about the town is when the naysayers say 'No, no, no.' They have no idea how hard it is to make a living in Ketchum. It is extremely difficult to determine to invest your money here." she said.
"However, I've lived here for a long time and I have a lot of reasons to do it. But we have short seasons in which to make money. Here I have to worry about getting through slack every year. I make most of my profits for the whole year in the last two weeks of December, which is why I wanted to be built before Christmas. If I hadn't gotten into business before the Christmas season I wouldn't be sitting here right now."
Which brings us back to the biggest challenge in her career. The fire.
Within days of Whiskeys' burning to the ground, phone calls and e-mails were flooding in, all with the same theme: Rebuild.
"We heard from people around the country. I don't think any of us really had an idea of how important the business was, because it's a job for us," she said.
"But it's much more difficult to rebuild and start over than it is just to buy a business. Buying Whiskeys' was a challenge originally. It was a turnaround and it took a long time to do. But it wasn't the same kind of challenge because I had another business to support me. When Whiskey's burnt down—there was no other support. Everything was gone."
Another slight problem: Two weeks following the fire, the stock market crashed.
"The banks essentially stopped lending. I actually started construction before I signed loan documents. I didn't really know—are they or aren't they? But I realized if I wanted to get back in business by Christmas, we had to get going."
Martin is effusive in her praise for this community for the help it gave her getting back into business. Everyone from the firefighters who salvaged valuable files and artwork from the building, to Mountain West Bank, architects Jim Ruscitto and Buffalo Rixon and Sawtooth Construction ("Who got us built and in business from June 1 to Dec. 18.").
"It was a miracle," she said. "There are many more subcontractors I owe a great deal of thanks to."
When the day came to open those saloon doors, the response was fantastic. Whiskey Jacques' posted an announcement on its Facebook page. A few of the comments likely brought a smile to the beleaguered faces behind the bar:
"There is a God—like a Phoenix from the ashes." Erik A. Christiansen.
"Arise, Whiskeys' ... arise!" Adrien Paulsen.
"This makes me want to book a flight today!" Joshua Rasler.
Looking back on what has been a trying two years, Martin is surprisingly positive.
"At that moment, watching 30 years of work going up in flames, going down the drain, you're not thinking of rebuilding and what it might be like. But now I have a brand new building and my staff is back. We all feel lucky. We had a good winter. People came to town."
Her biggest concern now, going forward, is in figuring out what direction Ketchum is heading.
"What we really need is facilities for tourists. That way people can have jobs and support themselves."
Just as she has done, for over three decades.
Standing on the deck of the new Whiskey Jacques’, Karin Martin reflects on the struggles she has surmounted over the last three decades in business in Ketchum. Photo by Willy Cook
