Where Eagles Dare To Relax, Play Cards

She’s been in the bar and restaurant business all her life, but it was never like this.

Mickey Lovell was tending bar at the Valley Eagles Lodge on Saturday. It was an afternoon at the lodge. A group of 32 mostly retired members played pinochle, the first day of a six-weekend tournament. A few guys sat at the bar instead, watching cable and knocking back drinks.

Working at the private club is different, Lovell said, because she belongs to the lodge herself. And the people are just so darned friendly.

“They’re all members, and this is their home away from home,” she said, eyes scanning the bar to see if anyone needed some pizza or a refill.

A guy we know only as Gordy talked about politics - he wanted a word with the governor. He also reminisced about Sig Hansen, the legendary football coach who led Central Valley High from 1933 to ‘54.

“They don’t make ‘em like him anymore,” Gordy decided.

The Valley club has many members, but a hard-core few make up the regular crowd.

“We have 1,200 members, but half of them are dead, put it that way,” piped up Malex Roybal, sitting a few stools left of Gordy. “But they still pay their dues.”

Roybal was just kidding. Well, mostly. “Oh yeah, we’re family,” he said, sarcasm aside.

Some members really pitch in. Juanita Planck was in back near the now-empty dance area. She was taping white butcher paper to tables, preparing for a barbecued beef feed later that evening. She volunteers there from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. sometimes, more hours than she worked before retiring.

Back near the card tables and pull-tabs, a few players wandered up to the bar. The games were ending - winning teams would stay put; losers rotated to other tables.

Jim and Peggy Dearing won their game. They were sharks at both cards and darts. They’re always happy to school young whippersnappers wishing to take them on.

“They think they can come in and beat the old people, but they can’t,” Peggy said. One guy finished his game and grabbed a quick drink, something transparent and on the rocks. He joked that the lodge keeps everyone off the streets.

Someone yelled that the next games were about to start. The Dearings scrambled off to a table near the coin-operated, fish-for-a-stuffed-animal machine. Fran Mellick and Beryl Rentel were waiting.

Early in the game, things moved along quickly. Everyone dealt cards to the center pile with a confident flick-of-the-wrist, the way pro Frisbee throwers snap discs at their acrobatic dogs.

Midway, things came to an impasse. Everyone just stared at the empty space on the table where a pile of cards was supposed to be forming.

“Somebody must have something,” Mellick said. “I sure don’t.”

Someone did. By the second-to-last hand, things were once again looking up for the Dearings.

“We’re kinda getting socked here, partner,” Mellick said. The Dearings won.

“Oh, it’s just luck,” Mellick said, lighting up a cigarette and heading off to his next game.

Thanks to the break, business picked up again for Lovell at the bar. She didn’t mind. It’s not even like a job sometimes.

“It’s like working in your house,” she said. “You know everybody’s name.”

, DataTimes MEMO: Valley Snapshots is a weekly feature that profiles gatherings and events around the Spokane Valley.