ALL IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Fugitive? Felon? Enrolled in the federal witness protection program? Just keeping a deep, dark secret you'd never, ever want revealed to the rest of the world?

Don't even think of stopping in at Jack's Place, 5067 E. Bonanza Road, for a drink. By your second round, not only will you have spilled your secret to the cozy neighborhood tavern's corps of friendly regulars, you'll have signed up for the darts team, too.

That's just the way it is at a typical neighborhood bar. In a city packed with high-profile tavern chains and locals casinos, legions of Southern Nevadans still prefer their neighborhood taverns as places to enjoy a drink and socialize with people who aren't your family but could be.

Joe Wilcock, president of the Nevada Tavern Owners Association and owner of the Brewery Bar & Grill, 3088 E. Sunset Road, estimates that "probably half of the bars in town" are independently owned and cater to a primarily neighborhood clientele.

Defining what a neighborhood bar is is as slippery as an ice cube skittering about on a polished wood bar top. But a neighborhood bar tends to be small and populated mostly by people who live within a radius of only a few miles, and its patrons are apt to know each other by sight, if not by name or, even, nickname.

Beer signs hanging in the window are good identifiers, as are pool tables, jukeboxes and at least one dartboard on the wall. And if the name of the bar includes the first or last name of its owner or founder, that's paydirt.

Above all else, Wilcock says, a classic neighborhood bar is "about relationships and neighborhood support."

Wilcock knows: His own neighborhood tavern, which he has owned for about six years, is "typical of a mom-and-pop bar," although augmented with a 50-seat restaurant and a game room.

"Then, I have the same patrons pretty much every day, of course," Wilcock says, although "as with all bars, we develop new customers."

When The Tap House opened in 1985, it earned its neighborhood bar stripes as one of the valley's first "really true sports bars," says General Manger Dodd Martin.

Today, The Tap House, 5589 W. Charleston Blvd., still counts among its regulars residents of nearby neighborhoods. However, Martin notes that its restaurant menu and status as the city's first bar to cater to expatriate Ohioans -- primarily fans of the Cleveland Browns, Indians and Cavaliers and the Ohio State Buckeyes -- have created a group of regulars who now live throughout the valley.

Jack and Rosemary Regan opened Jack's Place on April 1, 1980. Since Jack's death eight years ago, Rosemary has been running the bar herself, assisted by a longtime staff and a corps of loyal patrons, many of whom have been coming around since day one.

Regan says many of her regulars patronize chain bars or locals casinos, too. But, she says, they come to Jack's Place to "be away from the noise and just talk to people."

Regan's patrons have met at the bar and become friends. They've celebrated marriages and helped each other endure divorces. Regulars have had kids, who then have become regulars themselves.

The sense of community that exists among customers and staff is a big part of what makes Jack's Place special, Regan says.

"These people all know each other. At any given moment, it's a lot more like someone's living room, because when they're all in here they all start wanting to talk to each other."

Jeff Erickson became a Jack's regular 11 years ago when a friend driving him home from work dropped him off on an adjacent corner.

"It was about 110 degrees outside and we'd been working concrete all day," he recalls. "I looked over and saw the beer sign in the window and stopped here." The same thing happened the next night, Erickson continues, except that "I come walking into the door, and the beer's sitting on the bar waiting for me."

Now, he says, "I know everybody here on a first-name basis," and fellow regulars have become his surrogate family.

Once, a regular's husband lost his leg to diabetes, and told fellow patrons that he couldn't come home until a handicap ramp was installed and a bathroom door widened at their home.

"Two or three of us got together and went over the next day and built a handicap ramp and widened the bathroom door," Erickson says. "Just no question about it. It had to be done, just go do it."

Larry Mann, also a regular pretty much since the bar opened, likes "the quietness of the bar and the people that are in here." He met his wife at Jack's, and his daughters had their first drinks there when they turned 21.

Daughter Kimberly turned 21 in January. "When I came in, everybody in the whole bar started singing, 'Happy Birthday' to me," she says.

Kimberly, in turn, introduced her fiance, Nehemiah Garcia, 22, to Jack's. Both say they prefer Jack's to chain taverns that are geared more toward people their age.

Those places are "not as friendly as this place," Kimberly says. "You walk in (here) and they're like, 'Kim, how are you doing?' Other places, they just look at you."

Because independent neighborhood bars don't have the marketing resources larger chains and casinos do, creating a loyal clientele hinges upon word of mouth and "visibility," says Pat Moreo, chairman of the food and beverage department at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. "They get known in the neighborhood."

Also key to an independent's success is "consistency of management," Moreo adds. A neighborhood bar owner often can respond to a customer's concerns more quickly than a larger operation, because "you don't have too many layers to (go through to) get stuff done."

Successful independent bar owners also strive to cultivate relationships with customers. "That's what they're about and that's what keeps them afloat," Wilcock says. "It's like the 'Cheers' thing: Everybody wants to know your name. We are their family for some of these people.

"I throw a lot of events. We have a Fourth of July party and, for Memorial Day, we had the Brewery 500. We set up a (slot car) race at the bar. It's really just a way of always thinking of new gags and things to do."

Wilcock said patrons of smaller independents also say they prefer the smaller crowds, closer parking and greater convenience they offer.

One trend that's working in neighborhood bars' favor is a tendency for Southern Nevadans to drink closer to home, Wilcock said. On the flip side, chains and casinos enjoy "some economies of scale we don't -- purchasing power, those kind of things."

"But I don't know," he adds. "I've always felt like we have the upper hand because people know us."

Still, surviving in a crowded market that includes so many bigger players "really isn't easy," Martin says. "There's so much competition."

One advantage Nevada bars have that bars elsewhere don't: Gaming. Here, even the smallest neighborhood bar is likely to have at least a few video gaming machines that help to keep the books in the black.

"People don't realize that a couple of slot machines can be very lucrative," Moreo says.

"Oh, you don't make it without it," Regan agrees, "especially not at what I charge (for drinks)."

Jack's Place has no kitchen and doesn't serve food. Regan says drink prices would have to be raised if gaming weren't available, "and then you're not competitive with other little bars."

And while real estate prices have gone up greatly across the valley, Wilcock said, "most older bars have good rent deals, and they're able to survive that way."

But, now, neighborhood bars are facing a new challenge: Passage of an anti-smoking law that has forced some owners to choose between allowing smoking or offering food service.

Since the ban was passed, "we've had probably about 75 bars close their kitchens," Wilcock said. "It's been kind of sad, actually. They're fighting for survival right now. If you close a kitchen you're losing money. If you ban smoking you're losing money.

"So it's been a struggle. Some of these bars are hanging on by their fingernails."