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There will literally be people crying into their beer Saturday night at The Bar in Sugarhouse.

After seven decades of pouring pints in cozy confines, the 625-square-foot A-frame building on Highland Drive will serve its final drafts. It will be demolished and replaced by a medical office building.

"I've seen this coming for 17 years," said Spencer Ahrend — the entire duration he's owned the bar with his wife, Lisa.

Developer Craig Mecham has made "multiple offers over the years" for the property, Ahrend said. He never wanted to sell, he said, but recently realized that it would be "the best decision for me and my family" — especially given how "progress" has changed the neighborhood.

"The charm of Sugar House has certainly gone away from what we used to know," he said.

The bar's closure is the latest wave in a tsunami of new Sugar House development that has many lamenting the loss of longtime businesses.

In the mid-2000s, several locally owned shops along Highland Drive south of 2100 South closed or moved to make way for new development spearheaded by Mecham. The 2008 economic downturn led to the area sitting empty for several years, derided as the "Sugar Hole," but apartments and restaurants eventually rose in its place.

Now it appears the next stage is on the horizon. The Bar in Sugarhouse's former southern neighbor, a bar and pool hall called Fats Grill, closed and was leveled a year ago. The retail complex north of the tavern is slated for demolition; former tenants like Omar's Rawtopia and One World Gifts have shuttered or relocated.

Both of those properties are owned by Mecham, who could not be reached for comment.

Until Saturday, The Bar in Sugarhouse is one of the final bastions of the area's once uber-local, quirky character. A big Utah Utes flag hangs outside, declaring it a major spot — insofar as passion is measured — for University of Utah sports-watching. Rusty bottlecaps adorn the "2168" address sign nailed over the door of the chalet, which looks like it was helicoptered in from the slopes of Alta — an actual rumor, but sadly a false one.

Inside is wood-paneled everything, with a mishmash of wall decor like beer-brand neon signs and old skis. On tap is Uinta, Guinness, Bud and Coors, served across a well-worn bar top.

Wednesday afternoon, customers — about eight, a number that seems to be about a third of capacity — were all lamenting the bar's closure, with a blaring jukebox summing up their collective mood: a song by Irish punkers Flogging Molly called "The Worst Day Since Yesterday."

"I was born and raised in Sugar House, and my dad used to come here in the '60s and '70s," said Erin Gallegos, her eyes growing watery. "It's heartbreaking and devastating to see it go. It's like Cheers — you walk in and you know you're always going to know three or four people, day or night."

The best times, she recalled, were days like the Fourth of July, Cinco de Mayo and the Super Bowl, when you had to reserve seats at the bar.

"It was so much fun," she says. "I'll be here Saturday for sure. It's definitely the end of an era. There'll be a lot of people crying."

Alex Boynton, who used to bartend here, assessed the changes bluntly: "It sucks."

"This is a local institution, and it's a tragedy we're losing a groovy hangout. I miss all the cool stores that used to be along the strand here," he said, rattling off businesses like the music store where he bought his first bass guitar and the place he'd pick up cigarettes.

"I'm just glad we're building a little bit of South Jordan right here in Sugar House," Boynton said, voice oozing with sarcasm. "Now the bars are all hipster ... you get $11 cocktails and wait 25 minutes for them."

Ahrend echoed Boynton's sentiments, adding that the new developments are making Sugar House "look like downtown San Jose."

The Bar in Sugarhouse was originally his grandfather's chiropractic office when it was built in 1936. It became a bar in 1947 and was known as the Tap Room until Ahrend bought and rechristened it in 2001. (The Tap Room, under different ownership, now operates a few blocks away.)

Saturday night — actually Sunday morning, when The Bar in Sugarhouse shutters forever at 2 a.m. — will be difficult for his customers, Ahrend said, but he thinks he'll be hit the hardest, given the building's family history.

"I've already had a lot of tears," he said. "It's like I'm preparing for a wake now, still trying to process things. I hope I can make it through the evening."

—Reporter Tiffany Frandsen contributed to this story.