By Sam Letchworth

Have you ever seen a naked man get tazed by the cops? Or a magician make a beer bottle disappear under a newspaper when you have your hand on it? Or a leather worker draw out the Fibonacci triangle on a beer coaster? I have. And I saw it all at Roger’s Rec.

Most people who don’t know wander into the back door, take a look around and leave, realizing that they have walked into the wrong bar. But everyone else drinking their beers over a game of dominoes, a round of billiards, even the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, call it home.

Roger’s Rec is the oldest bar on Dickson Street. Founded in 1947, it is a historic landmark of Fayetteville, a place founded on the idea of working men escaping from the world, if only for a little while.

But the layman moseying down Dickson wouldn’t even know it was there. I’ve been drinking $1.50 Shiner Bock at Roger’s for, well, as long as I’ve drinking $1.50 Shiner Bock at Roger’s. But now, there’s no front door.

I heard a commercial on the radio the other day advertising Roger’s Rec. It was delivered by one of those sand-and-glue-voiced radio guys who I can only imagine wakes up in the morning in his boxer shorts, drinks three cups of coffee, smokes twice as many cigarettes and records a litany of commercial spots on the microphone hooked up to his computer. This particular one got me.

“Come down to Roger’s Rec,” said the commercial man, “the same bar it has always been since 1947.”

Obviously, this gentleman has never stepped a foot into Roger’s. Or, if he has, he should probably be drawn and quartered. Because the fact is, Roger’s Rec just ain’t what it used to be.

The bar used to be accessible right off of Dickson Street, up until a year ago. It was a shotgun bar, home to cheap beer, cheap pool, shuffle board, foosball and more. And it still is, of course, except that you wouldn’t know it unless you walked around the back of Jose’s past Rogue Pizza into the two-hour parking lot. If you tried to come in through the original, proper entrance, you would find, not Roger’s, but a bar called 21st Amendment, arguably the nicest bar on Dickson, decked out with wood paneling, leather couches, top shelf liquors and a Big Ass fan (actually a brand name for the fan that spins in the center of the place, each blade being at least 10 feet long).

Now Roger’s, nearly 60 years old, has been pushed into the back. Bar owner of both establishments, Zack Wooden, bought Roger’s and cut the bar in half, assassinating the last vestige of Dickson Street history.

A writer for The New Yorker wrote a story on the bar in the 1980s and loved it so much he moved to Fayetteville. He called it “the center of the universe.”

The “Rec” in “Roger’s Rec” stands for “recreation.” But you’re lucky to “recreate” at all in the place now as the pool tables and shuffle board have been packed so tightly together that you have to wait your turn to take a shot for fear of poking the “recreating” pool or shuffle board player behind you.

Roger’s Rec has always served as an archetypal men’s club. The bar, established in 1947, didn’t even have a women’s restroom until 1980. Basically, the place was a Roman bath house, without the gay sex, of course.

The only thing keeping Roger’s Rec, well, Roger’s Rec, are the patrons, some of whom have been coming to the bar regularly for 50 years. There’s Ian, a London native that everyone refers to endearingly as “Limey.” He used to coach soccer, but don’t call it “soccer” to him. There’s Mark, a carpenter, who only drinks Busch. There’s Charlie, a pool shark, who always dresses in a white shirt and black pants. He’ll coach you on your pool game and, if you’re having a laugh, he’ll come up to you and facetiously tell you that you’re having too much fun. There’s Lynn, an old rugby player reminiscent of Art Garfunkel, who drinks Bud out of a Black Sabbath pint glass and talks about the reptilian conspiracy. Tony the 13-year-veteran friendly tattooed bartender, T.J. the gruff-voiced “tortured genius” full of random jeopardy trivia … The list goes on.

These are just some of the people that have kept Roger’s Rec alive. When they are gone, Roger’s will be gone. And with it, one of the most integral keystones of Fayetteville culture.