Every good thing must come to an end.
I’ve always hated this cliché. Every time a girl has broken up with me or my undefeated team has lost, I always wonder why good things can’t live on forever. After all, gravity is a good thing and it never comes to an end.
But alas, yet another very good thing is coming to an end in a few weeks.
The infamous Hawk and Dove restaurant and bar will be closing its mahogany doors this October after a long history of political conspiring and poor life decisions.
That’s why, on this solemn occasion, I dedicate this column to the memories, the legend and the legacy of…the Hawk.
For decades, Hawk and Dove has served as the stomping ground for burned-out Congressional staffers and fun-seeking college students and interns alike. And for GW, the Hawk is a quintessential Colonial experience, a universal right of passage.
Whether you chose to go at the very last minute, or prepared to Hawk for days, your time at the bar was more than just a night out; it truly was an unforgettable event.
Never knowing what would transpire added to the mystery – and allure – of the Hawk. Would it be a college fraternity party or an intern happy hour? Would the person buying you drinks be a hormone-motivated freshman or a presidential speechwriter? Only the Hawk would know.
The morning after a night of Hawking is universal, too.
You’d wake up with a headache that can only be dubbed a Hawk-Over and groan to your friends “I’m never going back to the Hawk.” Yet, without fail, in but a few short weeks, the unquenchable desire to go Hawking again would prevail. And you would yet again head out to the Hawk for some dirt-cheap drinks and the mildly sketchy dance floor.
Now of course, the Hawk will not be shuttered forever. Its new owner pledges to revamp it and make it better than ever. He plans on cleaning, remodeling and overhauling the menu. But he also plans on getting rid of all of the 18-and-over DJ nights, which were sometimes the most memorable nights. After the facelift and menu restructuring, the Hawk should be back to business in roughly five months.
But for now, with the closing of the Hawk as we know it, a D.C. landmark and tradition has ended.
While we may not fully remember the memories you helped us make, your legacy will forever live on.
So here’s to you, Hawk and Dove. On this day we look back on the lifelong memories, the friendships made and the unapologetic decisions of our youth as we bid the Hawk farewell. From the raging rooms in Thurston to the hallowed halls of Townhouse Row, we will always work to emulate the legend of the Hawk.
–Keith Osentoski, a junior majoring in political communication, is a Hatchet columnist.
This article appeared in the September 29, 2011 issue of the Hatchet.