One morning in the early summer of 1934, a baby goat falls off a truck traveling east on Madison Street. Dazed and limping, it wanders into the Lincoln Tavern. Sianis sees the goat and sends one of his waiters out to get a baby bottle. While he is feeding the goat, a lawyer sitting at the bar suggests that Sianis adopt the goat, saying: “You’ll get a million dollars worth of free publicity.” This seems like a very good idea to Sianis since his cash register is taking in only seven dollars a day. David Condon, a Tribune columnist who becomes one of the most prolific and imaginative chroniclers of Sianis’ activities, writes that the tavern owner went to courts where” the attorney ad judge conferred. The judge paroled the goat ‘into the custody of William Sianis for life.'”
Immediately, Sianis renames his tavern the Billy Goat Inn and begins to grow a spade goatee to fit the part. There is a small patch of grass in the yard behind the tavern, and there the goat lives and happily nibbles, the first of many goats to call the place home. “All of the Chicago police, if they find a stray goat, and a long time ago there wre lots of goats wandering around, they bring them to my uncle,” says Sam. “They know that my uncle will take good care of the goats.”
…from the book A Chicago Tavern a Goat, a Curse, and the American Dream
