Skip to main content

A Lazy Afternoon On Sentimental Street

Saw you walking out on Sentimental Street. What you doing out there? Who you trying to be?

I had some time after my last book tour stop in Ohio and before my flight back to North Carolina, so I decided to take a sentimental journey to some of the obscure places I used to visit with my family back when I was a kid. Actually the whole tour was something of a sentimental journey, with stops at the Toledo Zoo, Put-In-Bay and the Ida Rupp Public Library, but this last drive hit some very specific and unusual spots that I have a special emotional connection to.

The first stop was Toft's Dairy in Sandusky. Toft's has dozens of dairy bar locations now throughout Northwest Ohio, but back in the 70s if you wanted their ice cream you either had to buy it at the grocery store or stop by their main location on Monroe Street. I wasn't surprised to find that they have built a brand new facility a couple of miles away on Venice Road--the original location was showing its age even was I was a kid--but was pleased that the old building is still standing. We would drive over there on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, park in the lot across the street, get banana splits and eat them in the car. It was a big treat! The building is inhabited now by a company called Patina Creek, which sells upscale vintage and repurposed goods. Of course, I also stopped at the new Toft's and had some ice cream. I would have liked to get the banana split, but I had already eaten VERY poorly on the trip and just couldn't afford the 1,200 calorie sugar bomb, so I had a small cup of the Lake Erie Cookie Monster. I think Dad would have approved!

My next stop was a few miles down Venice Road at what I knew as Mr. Wiggs as a kid. The structure was a sort of proto-mall which included several different retail spaces, including a barber shop where Dad and I sometimes got our hair cut. There was also a grocery store in the building, although I forget which one, as Mom didn't like it and we rarely ever went in. In the late 70s, Mr. Wiggs became Heck's and then another one opened in Port Clinton, making the 20 minute drive to Sandusky unnecessary. I'm not sure when the Sandusky Heck's closed, but I recall it being open as late as the mid-80s. The building looks mostly empty now, but a part of it houses K&K Home Furnishings, which offers stylish home furnishings and accessories.

A few more miles down the road, adjacent to Sandusky High School, another retail plaza my family frequented is doing better. Back in the day, it was a discount store called Ontario and a Foodtown grocery store. In the late 70s, Ontario changed its name to Cook's. Now, the part that was the Ontario is a Tractor Supply and the part that was the Foodtown is a Sav-A-Lot. The plaza has also expanded, with a Family Dollar and a couple of smaller shops having been added at some point over the past 30 years.

The last stop in my sentimental journey was the Sandusky Mall. When that mall opened in the mid-70s it was THE place to be. Like most malls in small town America, though, it has seen better days. Of the three anchor stores, only the JCPenney, where I worked as a management intern in the summer of 1985, is still open. The movie theater, where I saw great films like Back to the Future and Stripes, has moved to a stand-alone building and none of the smaller shops of my day, like Spencers and Musicland, are still around. (The lyrics that open this post are from the Night Ranger album Sven Wishes, which I bought at Musicland in 1985.) Honestly it was the most depressing of the stops because it was just so empty and pitiful, while the area around it is booming with big box stores.

So how about you? What has become of the stores where you shopped as a kid?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

FRIDAY MATINEE: Midnight Mass (🍺🍺🍺🍺)

I held off writing this review until I had seen all seven episodes of the new Netflix limited series “Midnight Mass.” I’ve been burned in the past by shows that start out well and then devolve into silliness as they progress. While “Mass" doesn’t completely stick the landing, I think even the East German judge would give it a solid 9. Taken as a whole, I think it is as effective a piece of horror as the combined “It” movies from a few years ago, and right on par with “Hereditary” and “Midsommar.”  The story revolves around a man returning to his childhood island home after a prison stay for a drunk driving accident that killed a teen girl. Coincidentally, it is the same day the island’s beloved elderly priest, Monsignor Pruitt is supposed to return from a trip to the Holy Land. Unfortunately, the priest has taken ill and is being treated on the mainland. A temporary priest arrives to take his place.  The story takes a little while to get going, and anyone who’s familiar with the g

Don't Listen to the Old Man in the Pickup Truck

As economic development director for Anson County, I strongly urge you to vote FOR the Mixed Beverage* Election November 8th. But, more importantly, I encourage you to listen to the voices of the young professionals upon whom the future of the county will depend. If you look closely at the lower right-hand corner of the blue and white signs urging a FOR vote on Mixed Beverages, you will see they are paid for by YP Anson. So what is YP Anson? Is it some political action committee funded by out-of-state alcoholic beverage manufacturers and casino owners? No, it's Young Professionals Anson, an organization made up of and funded entirely by local business people and community members under the age of 40.  They are the bankers, real estate agents, lawyers, shop owners, entrepreneurs, factory managers, and tradespeople who will lead Anson County into the next decade and beyond. Most of them were born and raised here, left to get a college education, and chose to return and raise a family

Stop Throwing Money at Homestead Problems

When Janet and I started our first homestead -- The Little House on the Highway (LHOTH) -- outside Bowing Green, Ohio in 1987, we were just a couple of years removed from college and had very limited financial resources. Although we both had good jobs, we had spent every penny of our meager savings on the down payment and were, like many couples just getting started, cash poor. There were some anxious moments those first few years as repair bills on the aging farmhouse mounted (I think we put the plumber's kid through college) and the stark realities of rural living began to wear on us. Fortunately, both of us had been raised by parents who were a little financially challenged themselves and we understood how to stretch a dollar. Ultimately, that initial homesteading experience did not work out, but we were able to sell the farm for a small profit and learned some valuable lessons along the way. Fast-forward thirty years and we find ourselves in a different place, literally and