Mr. Lucky's

Phoenix has always been a fairly easy place to get around. The streets are mapped out running north and south, east and west. There is one street that runs at an angle, Grand Avenue, which follows the railroad for several miles. While driving along this stretch of road, you will drive by a very unusual sign with a jester on top, and with the name “Mr. Lucky’s” just below it. This sign sits near Grand Avenue in a large asphalt parking lot. The building sitting on the lot has very plain wood walls, no windows, and white barn doors marking the entrance. This once booming nightclub now sits abandoned, with a security fence around it and a couple of snarling dogs inside. Mr. Lucky’s holds many memories for me and many others, so to see it as a shell of what was, is very heartbreaking.

On October 3, 1966, Mr. Lucky’s opened its doors and provided a combination of rock’n roll and country music. There were many famous singers such as Willie Nelson, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Roy Clark, just to name a few, that rock the place with their unique brand of music. To see the place from the outside, you would never know that it was two stories inside. In the 1970’s and 1980’s, when I frequent there, the place was bustling. What were popular during this era were the urban cowboys, disco, and the ever popular rock n’ roll. When you enter through the front doors, you continue to go straight and walk into the country and western section of the nightclub. This area was a generous size and adorned with western decorations on the walls, two bars, a large stage, and many places to sit and enjoy a drink. In front of the stage was a favorable size dance floor where many kicked up their heels doing the two-step and electric slide. In one corner was the infamous electric bull where many cowboys and cowgirls were bucked off, bruising their egos. There were countless live bands that went through the doors, performing on the stage, along with its owners J. David Sloan and his band the Rouge.

Although the upstairs was a fun place, my friends and I enjoyed the lower section much more. As you walk through the barn door entrance, you take a right which takes you down a dark mirrored ramp to the rock n’ roll part of the nightclub. Halfway down, the ramp hits a landing and turn about 180 degrees and heads down more. As you enter the lower level, the first thing you see is one of the two bars down there. When you finally get to the bottom and make a right, you enter the very dark bar. The stage and dance floor are much smaller and there is less places to sit. The air had a murky look to it because people were allowed to smoke in nightclubs, which sucked for us nonsmokers. Many of the live bands that played down there kicked ass and rocked the joint. When there wasn’t a live band for the night, the D.J.’s always played the biggest hits of the times. When my friends and I decided to go to Mr. Lucky’s, we would get there early to get our favorite table. This table was big enough to hold four to six people, and was the first one upon entering the bar. It was a primo spot and always got us attention, especially the picture hanging on the wall above the table. The picture was of a blonde woman, sitting on a chair with her legs crossed. An elbow was leaning on the upper leg with a finger touching her lip. The thing that got everyone’s attention was the fact that she was wearing a low-cut top and her breasts were so large that they were literally sitting on her lap. Many nights, someone would stumble by and stare at the picture asking if they were real. I would say, NO!

I have many good memories at Mr. Lucky’s and only a few bad. We did some crazy stuff such as partying with the bands all night and going home in the morning. I can recall one time I got too drunk and had to be taken home by my friends. Never go tubing all day, baking in the hot sun for four hours, drink tall seven and sevens and not eat anything for dinner. I’m just saying, it could get you so drunk that you drop your sister’s birthday cake, and throw up on your bed after getting home, and then pass out. Bless my parent’s hearts, they cleaned up the mess and put me to bed. By the way, I will have a future post about tubing.

On August of 2004, J. David Sloan closed Mr. Lucky’s doors due to financial worries and declining crowds. Even the popularity of the Latino format in the lower level couldn’t bring in enough money to keep up with the bills. Today the disintegrating walls still stand on the lot along with its very unique, rusting “Mr. Lucky’s” sign. Inside the dark walls are the spirits of those happier and successful times still playing the music, engaging in dances, and having a cold one with friends.

Here’s to you Mr. Lucky’s and all the great times I had at your place!