Decatur Tavern to close after 50 years in business

By Ian Whitaker

Tuesday, Oct. 28, 2014 | 2 a.m.

Paul Halverson calls it a sign of the times.

When he first bought Decatur Tavern with his business partner in 2008, the 51-year-old neighborhood bar came with a drug store and a space just big enough for a handful of slot machines.

The slots sang right outside the tavern door, pulling in a steady supply of customers while Halverson, 64, manned the bar. His partner, Roger Szepelak, kept an eye on the finances while juggling a job in the gaming industry.

Then the recession hit. Over the next few years, storefronts around the old strip mall gradually made way for leasing signs. Now the parking lot is mostly empty, criss-crossed by pedestrians, connecting the dots between bus stops.

About three months ago, the drug store closed; its shelves sit empty behind big expansive windows that let the sun in. The slots went quiet a month ago.

On Tuesday, it’s the bar’s turn.

First opened in 1963, the bar, located at Decatur Boulevard and Alta Drive, has been a mainstay in the lives of nearby residents. It’s changed very little since then.

The leather bar stools have armrests, the drinks are dirt cheap and the place has kept afloat with regular play on the bar slots and sales of take-home liquor.

Halverson keeps one eye on the bar at all times. If he’s not behind it, he’s sitting at it. Interacting with the customers is what makes the place special, he says. In a gruff voice, he calls ladies “honey,” especially those from the nursing home across the street. He’ll drop whatever he’s doing to help them.

The bar has largely managed to avoid the fate of many nearby businesses. It’s not closing due to financial problems, but because Szepelak wanted to focus his attention elsewhere and they both agreed to cut it loose. Running a bar isn’t tough work, it’s just consuming, Halverson said.

“He was getting tired, I’m tired,” he said. “If I was 35, I’d be right there.”

Not every neighborhood dive has been as strong as Decatur’s. The R-Bar just a couple blocks away on Charleston Boulevard is now a Dotty’s, part of a chain.

Corporate-owned gaming bars don’t have the personal touch but they’re everywhere now, Halverson said.

Like any 24-hour bar, Decatur’s has its regulars. They are the overworked and the locally retired; gray-haired former construction workers, cops and waitresses looking for a break from casinos. They are denizens of what Halverson calls “the zipcode.” Originally from Reno, he and his wife don’t live in 89107, but he’s seen the area change like only a bartender can.

Economic hardship tightened the flow of spending money and closed several businesses that used to provide a steady supply of drinkers, including a Fletcher Jones auto dealer. At night, the aging clientele has been replaced with young people who come for the karaoke, game nights and cheap booze.

“It’s not like it was 40 or 50 years ago,” he said. “The economy was so robust that neighborhood bars were packed four or five deep every day.”

The news of the bar’s closing has hit Decatur’s diehards the worst, many of whom came to it long before the change in ownership. On Saturday afternoon, Halverson points out a man in a hat pulling at a pint at the far end of the bar. He’s been coming to the bar since he was 16.

“I know everybody here,” Halverson said. “This is one of the few truly family places left, and I’m told that a hundred times a day.”

A greasy spoon in the back of the building will be the sole survivor. The owner has a catering business that will do just fine. Halverson could see Decatur’s reopening under other leadership. He hopes they keep it the same way he and his partner kept it.

Anna Rodriguez can remember celebrating at least three birthdays here. One for her nephew’s 21st and at least two for her.

“It’s the neighborhood bar and now it’s gone,” Rodriguez said, sighing through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “And that sucks.”

“It’s just sad to see it go,” she said, pausing for a moment as White Plains' “My Baby Loves Lovin’” fills the room around the smoke. Tears in her eyes, she excuses herself and goes back to the bar.

She’ll be back later on in the night when the official going-away party starts. The parties will last until Tuesday night, when Decatur’s closes and the family says goodbye. Halverson said some might go to nearby bars like Four Kegs, Saddle N Spurs or Joker’s and wait to see what happens.

Halverson will take some time off. Being a bartender is consuming work, but it’s been rewarding. He struggles to think of a cherished memory of the place because they all blend together.

“Just seeing people have been so much fun,” he said. “Not caring about nothing or anything, because they’re here in this umbrella.”

If anyone is still at the bar at 8 p.m. Tuesday, they’ll be escorted out. The slot machines will be turned off.

“Then we’ll lock the door,” Halverson said. “And that’ll be that.”