Walk into the Disabled American Veterans lounge near Speedway and Swan, and you can feel transported.
You may feel you’re in a 1970s bar — spinning hits by the likes of Earth, Wind & Fire and Elton John — cigarette smoke wafting by.
And if you’re a disabled veteran, you may literally get transported. A row of motorized wheelchairs sits in the back room, just waiting to be given to a disabled vet with mobility problems.
But it’s been tough for decades in the military-service organizations, like the American Legion, the Veterans of Foreign Wars and the DAV. These places, especially their lounges, used to be the anchors of many communities, but membership has dropped as World War II veterans passed away and other generations have moved on.
Years back, there were four DAV lounges in Tucson. This one at 4656 E. First St., belonging to the Rincon Renegades Chapter 18, is one of two left in Tucson, out of a total of 30 across the country. The other is DAV Chapter 28 at 5771 S. Country Club Road.
Between the two of them, Tucson is home to 1/15th of all the Disabled American Veterans lounges in the country.
That may not be as big a distinction as Tucson’s UNESCO City of Gastronomy designation, but it counts for something. And the people who love these places, like the Rincon chapter’s lounge, are searching for ways to keep them around.
“This is a hidden gem in Tucson,” said Richalene “Rache” Smith, the bar manager, who has been there for about three months. “We don’t want this place to die with the older veterans.”
That’s the challenge that the dwindling military-service lounges like the Rincon chapter face: How to get new, younger members without losing the character and purpose that make it such a home for the existing members. It’s a dilemma.
The American Legion has been experimenting with online gaming at its posts as a way to draw in new members, but the DAV, as a national organization, isn’t so focused on maintaining brick-and-mortar lodges and isn’t that up-to-date yet.
To be a member of the Disabled American Veterans, you have to:
have served in the military during wartime;
have been wounded, disabled or left with a long-term illness as a result of that service;
not have been dishonorably discharged.
But you don’t have to be a disabled veteran, or even a veteran, to partake of the cheap drinks and throwback atmosphere at the lounge. The various military-service organizations recognize each others’ memberships now. Plus, there are auxiliary memberships that will get you in through the buzzer-locked door and into the warm embrace of the regulars.
The dean of them is Otis Turner, known as O.T., a 93-year-old veteran of the Korean War. Many days, he hits
the VFW Post 4903 at 5320 E. Bellevue St., then heads over to the DAV chapter before heading home.
“Sometimes I’ll be here two or three hours,” Turner told me in his quiet voice. “Sometimes I go to the VFW first, then I come here afterward. I just come here as a member to socialize with the other people.”
After that, it’s home to watch TV. Employees at the VFW and DAV have joined together to try to take care of members like Turner. They make tuna salad and similar nutritious foods for older people without good teeth.
It’s these personal touches that make many veterans feel at home. For example, the bartenders make sure there’s no banging on the bar or making other sudden, loud noises, to protect those with PTSD, and they try to steer conversations away from some of the touchiest topics.
“The thing that’s nice about this place is I’ll be safe no matter what,” member Charles Roebuck said. “I’ve been a Mason, a Shriner — this is where I’m happiest.”
But it’s not all about drinks, friendship and conversation. The broader purpose that the lounge funds is to help disabled veterans, especially in getting the services and equipment they need.
Another member, David Young, suffered severe injuries during a 6 1/2-year career that included two combat tours, he told me. It took him 40 years, he said, to get the Veterans Administration to go from recognizing him as, first, 30% disabled, then 60% and finally 100% disabled. Part of the mission of the chapter, and military-service organizations generally, is to help veterans get the benefits they’ve earned.
“Over 70 to 80 percent haven’t got a clue there are benefits for them,” Young estimated. Filling out VA forms, he noted, “You have to phrase everything correctly. One wrong word and they’ll kick it back.”
A service officer, Bruce Hayes, works for the chapter to help with those sorts of issues, and Young and others can help veterans get other resources, such as the motorized chairs, walkers, shower equipment and the like.
In fact, there remain many chapters of DAV that perform this sort of service without also having a lounge. But the lounge remains a draw and source of income for the Rincon chapter, one that they are trying to boost.
Smith has brought in a couple of 21st Century attractions like karaoke, and a human attraction in the form of Lisa Capri, a bartender who was well known at the Bashful Bandit on East Speedway before it closed.
More than 15 self-described “Bandit orphans,” like Carlos Dicochea, have signed up as members since Capri started slinging drinks there. It’s a relationship thing, one that may be rarer these days than in the heyday of this sort of lounge.
In fact, in this TikTok era, younger veterans may find a lower-tech attraction at places like the DAV.
“There’s so much looking out for each other,” Smith said. “That’s the beauty of these places.”