There’s a Philly bar in Portland where Eagles fans gather to watch the game and feel like they’re back home
Lombard House might be thousands of miles away, but it's a "true Philly bar" where Eagles fans feel at home and and you never know if an Eagles great walks in the door.
Eric Allen, the legendary Eagles defensive back who anchored one of football’s all-time defenses, flew to Oregon last month to visit his son.
A linebacker at Portland State, Jordan Allen was sidelined with a knee injury so his dad wanted to spend the weekend with him while the school’s football team was on the road. The first thing they did was scout a place to watch the Birds that Sunday.
“We were looking for a sports bar,” Jordan Allen said. “But I said, ‘Why don’t we try to find an Eagles bar?’”
There are Eagles bars in nearly every city as Philadelphia transplants gather on foreign soil to cheer for their team. It did not take the younger Allen long to find an internet thread about a spot in Portland that has become a nest for Birds fans.
Lombard House was less than 10 miles from Portland State’s campus. Let’s do it, the son said. His dad agreed. The Allens were on their way.
“We go in there,” Jordan Allen said. “And we were like, ‘Oh. This is it?”
A Philly bar
Brian Koch grew up in Glenside, learned to live and die with the Birds at the Vet, and graduated from Abington High. He moved to Portland in 2006, leaving behind a miserable job for a new life across the country. He was 30 and knew no one in his new town. It was hard.
Koch watched the Eagles alone at a sports bar on a TV without sound while the rest of the bar cheered together for a different game.
“It was awful,” he said.
He dreamed of owning his own spot, a Philly bar like the ones he loved back home. Nothing special. Just a place where everyone felt welcomed, the beer was cold, and the Eagles were on. In 2016, Koch turned a tiny almost century-old building into Lombard House in Portland’s St. John’s neighborhood.
“My intention was to make it a Philly bar, but I wanted to ease into the neighborhood,” Koch said. “St. John’s is like a lot of Philly neighborhoods where you don’t just show up and be the new guy. So I kind of eased into it.”
A year later, a group of Birds fans — Philly natives who moved west just like Koch — gathered at Koch’s bar every week as the Eagles marched to the Super Bowl. So much for easing into it. Lombard House quickly became known as Portland’s hive for Philadelphians looking for a taste of home.
A Philadelphia Stars pennant hangs above the bar, a cardboard cutout of Randall Cunningham sits outside on Sundays, and an Orest Kindrachuk stick — the Broad Street Bully’s son is a regular — is on the wall. The bathroom is outside, the food is across the street, and just beer — no liquor — is served.
During the week, Lombard House is a local spot where Vietnam veterans drink for free. It’s a bar that sponsors a Little League team — the Phillies, of course — and has live music in the backyard.
On Sundays, Koch rearranges the seats in the 12-foot by 20-foot bar like a dad moving sofas in living room to make sure everyone has a spot for the game. The 40-some seats are saved — coasters that say “Reserved” are placed on top — for regulars while everyone else sits outside. By kickoff, the bar in Portland sounds like a spot on Frankford Avenue as a beautiful cacophony of accents blend together.
“People will come in and be like, ‘Where are you from? You sound different from her and she sounds different from him,’” said Paul Deitz, a regular who grew up in Bristol. “Now we’re explaining to the world all the different dialects of Southeastern Pa. A new guy came in last week with the hard Delco. I was dying. It was amazing.”
There’s a Philly bar in England are called Passyunk Avenue, but Koch’s tiny bar in Portland feels like it could sit on Passyunk Avenue.
“This is a bar in South Philly,” said Deitz. “It’s like a basement in South Philly.”
‘I’m home’
Deitz moved to Portland in 2016 with his wife after a bad day at work. But the thrill of living in a new city soon faded.
“Six, seven months in and I’m feeling down,” Deitz said. “Like I’d love to just pop over to the parents. You can FaceTime and all, but that’s not the same.”
One of the things that brought him home was watching the Birds and texting his buddies back in Bucks County. He tried to find a bar in Portland that felt like Philly but kept striking out. There were gatherings of Eagles fans but they felt like out-of-town watch parties. Deitz wished he could drop into a Philly bar for an afternoon and escape.
A few coworkers told Deitz about a Philly bar in St. John’s. It took him a few months before he finally gave it a try. He stopped by Lombard House in the summer of 2018, just before the start of another football season. Maybe this could be his Sunday spot, Deitz thought.
“My jaw dropped,” Deitz said. “I was like ‘Oh my God. I’m home.’ I just wanted to feel like I’m with family and friends watching the game. Brian filled a void that was missing from the love of having family and friends. To me, Brian is a brother. He’s family now.”
The bar didn’t just feel like home because they greet everyone on Sundays with a “Go Birds,” watch the Eagles on TV, and sing the fight song after scores. It was more than the Rasheed Wallace framed photo, the Iverson jersey, and the hole in the wall left by Koch’s fist after he thought of his late uncle when the Eagles finally won it all. It was the people who made it feel like home.
“We were just in Denver a couple weeks ago and went to the Philly bar there,” Deitz said. “It looked like a club. You’re flying a Birds flag and a Penn State flag. Cool. That doesn’t make you a Philly bar. There’s nothing flashy about this. There’s nothing sexy about it. It’s a good, true Philly bar. You could put that bar in South Philly, in Fishtown, in Germantown, and it would be right at home.”
Koch can’t serve Yuengling because it’s not yet offered in Oregon but someone once did fly in with a Wawa hoagie, providing an actual taste of Philly in a place that brings Philadelphians back home.
“A Philly bar is somewhere I can go, watch the games, B.S. among friends, cut the players up all in love, and not have to worry about what I’m going say or how I’m going to feel heartbroken being out in public,” Deitz said. “I can share euphoria after a victory or cry and drink away my sorrows with everyone else. That’s a Philly bar.”
“It’s not like I’m going up to a bar. It’s like I’m going to my buddy’s house or having a few drinks in the basement or the garage. It’s, ‘I want to go see Brian and see the connections and the friends that I made there.’”
Koch made his bar a gathering place for his Portland neighborhood but also for people like himself, who moved across the country without much else.
“I’ve met quite a few kids who just graduated from college or just moved out here,” Deitz said. “They’re wearing an Eagles jersey and sitting by themselves. I’ll say, ‘Hey, what’s your name bud?’ I’ll introduce them to the owner. You can see that they’re timid. Here they are just sitting there and they want to feel like they’re at home. That was me. You feel like a loner a little bit until you can establish relationships out here. Brian provides that. It’s awesome. We’re one big family.”
At the bar while his brother plays
Nick Calcaterra saw a sticker for the North Portland Bird Watchers Society on a post at a food-truck pod. The Eagles had recently drafted his younger brother, Grant. This, Nick Calcaterra thought, could be a way to watch the games.
The Bird Watchers are the group of diehards who gather every week at Lombard House. They started in 2017 by watching the Super Bowl on a 27-inch TV. Koch upgraded the screen after the season and added a TV outside as the flock grew.
Calcaterra stopped in for a 2022 preseason game, which to him felt like a playoff game as it was his brother’s chance to secure a roster spot as a sixth-round pick.
“I went in and asked if they showed the games for preseason,” said Nick Calcaterra, who lives in Portland and works in finance. “He said, ‘Yeah but why do you want to know?’ I said, ‘Well, my brother is on the team.’”
A bartender told Koch the next day that some guy was in the night before and said the Eagles drafted his brother. He’d be back, he said. Did the bartender at least get a name?
“He said, ‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask him any questions,’” Koch said. “I was like, ‘What the hell, dude. What if he doesn’t come back?’”
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Grant Calcaterra made the Eagles and his brother made Lombard House his Sunday home. Instead of watching his brother chase his NFL dream alone, the older brother gets to surround himself with a bar full of Birds fans 3,000 miles from the Linc. Yes, he’s the guy in the No. 81 jersey.
“Just to have everyone behind me every week rooting for the same stuff and cheering the same successes,” Nick Calcaterra said. “Even it’s just a nice block, the whole bar is like, ‘Oh, man. That block was so crucial.’ These days in the NFL aren’t going to last forever so you just try to soak it up as much as you can while it does last because it’s so fun and so exciting. This place enhances the experience and the fun all the more.”
Grant Calcaterra stops by Lombard House each offseason to host a fundraiser for the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation. Concussions in college nearly caused the tight end to leave football and become a firefighter before he decided to give the game one last chance.
“I’ve met everyone out there and it’s an awesome crew,” Grant Calcaterra said. “They’ve really taken him in and taken care of him so I felt compelled to go out there and do something cool for them.”
A home for an Eagles legend
Koch saw Eric Allen walk into his bar and had to look again. He grew up on Buddy Ryan, Reggie White, and Randall Cunningham. Was that really Eric Allen in his bar? Or just a guy who looked just like him?
“I’m like, this has to be him. He still looks like he can play,” Koch said. “I said, ‘Are you Eric Allen?’ He said ‘Yes.’”
The Allens found a spot outside — the inside seats are saved until midway through the first quarter — and watched the game.
“I said, ‘No, you need to sit inside,’” Koch said. “But it was a nice sunny day.”
The outside seat, Jordan Allen said, was perfect. He watched the Birds with his dad and felt for a few hours like he was in Philly. Eric Allen shared stories about training camp, playing with White, and his pick-six against New Orleans in the playoffs.
“I’m talking to a six-time Pro Bowler and he’s casually telling a couple Buddy Ryan stories,” Koch said. “I’m watching Eric Allen watch a Birds game with his son in our backyard and I’m getting chicken skin.”
The Allens watched the Birds win that day and Jordan Allen promised to be back. He grew up in San Diego but was raised an Eagles fan. He’s visited Philly enough over the years to know what it feels like to watch with Birds fans.
“It’s a really small bar,” Jordan Allen said. “Probably one of the smallest bars I’ve been in. But the atmosphere and the energy there is great. They’re just as loud as Chickie’s & Pete’s or Xfinity. It was open arms from the start. It was such a good time. Before we left, I dapped up Brian and he said ‘Welcome home.’ I thought that was really cool. My Sundays can get boring. Where am I going to go to watch the game? Brian is the guy and Lombard House is the spot.”
Koch has owned his bar for eight years, navigated the pandemic by delivering jars of beer to people’s homes, and has done whatever it takes to stay afloat. There have been challenges, but the person who everyone in St. John’s knows as the “Guy from Philly” keeps fighting. That’s what makes it even more special when Eric Allen walks through the front door.
Nearly 20 years ago, he didn’t know anyone in Portland and didn’t have a place to watch the Birds. Now he has the place to watch the game. And it’s more than just the posters on the wall that make it so.
“A couple times a season someone wanders in and they’re like 30-year-old me. Not many friends,” Koch said. “I was behind the bar a couple weeks ago and Paul, he’s so Philly, hits me on the shoulder. He’s like, ‘Look at this. Look at what you did.’ I’m like ‘What?’ He said, ‘This is a community. Everyone feels like they’re at home.’ It got me a little bit. I was like, ‘You’re right.’ I’m pretty proud of this. It is surreal.”