Ever the underdog, Postcrypt seems to bear the brunt of the War on Fun. It all started with an anonymous Bwog comment alleging the coffeehouse was serving alcohol to minors. Then came an emergency meeting with the administration, and $400 mandated alcohol proctors, who made it financially impossible for Postcrypt to keep serving drinks. Soon after, fire code violations forced Postcrypters to unplug their coffee maker—a coffeehouse without brewed coffee! As if it couldn’t get any worse, Postcrypt was suspended for the first month of this semester for a booking error. So the ‘crypt family headed downtown, waiting patiently until they could return to their prized St. Paul’s Chapel basement.

But now the time has come! Postcrypt returns, and they’ll no longer be forced to shell out thousands of dollars for University security “babysitters.” Adorable Facebook homecoming message after the jump:

To our extended ’Crypt family,

IT’S ALL OVER!
-the worry
-the fear
-the struggle
-the tears!

For the last year and a half your Postcrypt managers have been fighting to keep our little venue and the ’Crypt folk community alive, and the final hurdle has been to stop the imposition of Public Safety officers* who monitor our events every Friday and Saturday night in the Chapel. For over a year the Postcrypt Coffeehouse has been forced to pay thousands of dollars a month for the pleasure of being babysat, even as it was apparent that we didn’t have the money–as an all-volunteer run student organization and music venue that pays its musicians (and banned from selling beer, our main revenue source) the ’Crypt would have died this spring at the close of the semester after 46 years of folkin’ around.

*Not to mention that this security was meant as protection for (against?) thirty sober folk lovers/ hippies/musicians/students/alumns/Deadheads/parents/kids and friends.

But wait!
Baby, stop cryin’, don’t get tangled up in blue!
The times they are a-changin’! We’ve been knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door and there’s a changing of the guards–we’re gonna keep on playing those subterranean homesick blues in our underground home!
(Dylan nerds, that was for you)

A couple months after the Postcrypt Coffeehouse was founded in New York City, Bob Dylan sang:

How does it feel
to be without a home
like a complete unknown
like a rolling stone?

Honestly, I have no f*cking idea. because as of this afternoon Postcrypt will have no more University security at its concerts!

We’ve won, we’re safe! and we’re ready to get back to our home in St Paul’s Chapel.

So now it’s time to give thanks. We’ve been humbled by the sheer number of people who love Postcrypt, and to our friends for continuing to come to our shows–we are so grateful to you for supporting our musicians and our venue when it looked bleak.
From the University administrators and employees who worked with us and vouched for us, and the students who heard about our plight and joined us, to the musicians and bands who keep coming back to play, and our Postcrypt regulars, who’ve been coming for years and decades and didn’t give up on us–thank you so much. You are family.