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(This article, reprinted with permission, written by Herb Grant, class of 1973, appeared in The Columbus Dispatch on March 2, 2007)  3/10/07

RANDOM THOUGHTS
Few places left to spark a memory

Friday, March 02, 2007
HERB GRANT

Hey, this is getting personal. The recent fiery destruction of the Old Bag of Nails pub on Nelson Road marked another passing of a venerable structure my family enjoyed for years. The 80-something-year-old glorified burger joint was long known as the Broad-Nel, named for its proximity to E. Broad Street, and for years was a favorite watering hole for softball teams and families from the Bexley area.

My father and mother went there on dates before they were married. And, on a cold, snowy evening in 1978, Don and Sue Grant bundled up and trekked west for dinner in adventurous defiance of the legendary blizzard that crippled commuting.

The demolition of our home in Bexley got the wrecking ball rolling, after my mom sold the Dutch Colonial to buy something convenient for a widowed senior citizen. After 20 years, it’s still tough to drive past the monster that looms over trees my father planted.

The rise of a Walgreens from the rubble of the Kahiki was a cold reality slap. All the warm memories of sharing a Mystery Drink next to the Polynesian restaurant’s cheesy-yet-endearing rain forest couldn’t save the owner’s bottom line, and whammo! Another Herbie’s Unforgettable bites the dust.

I bet that a former astronaut didn’t mourn the leveling of the 12-story senior complex at 1100 E. Broad St. two years ago, but I did. My grandmother spent her final years in a one-bedroom apartment at Jenkins Terrace, where, many years earlier, John Glenn slipped in the shower and was injured.

The Columbus Metropolitan Housing Authority redeveloped the site into a more efficient four-story building.

The Columbus Public Schools plan the demise of Scioto Trail Elementary School, where I spent my formative years. The school seemed huge, and its playground on the bank of the Scioto River seemed to stretch for miles. It looks smaller these days and run-down.

And now the Columbus Maennerchor seems ready for the real-estate obituaries. I hated wearing a coat and tie at the private supper club to which my parents used to drag me, but I couldn’t get enough of the sauerbraten and, in later years, Warsteiner.

The slobbery sentiment of an old fart? Sure. Everyone my age has these memories.

It’s sad, but I feel sorrier for our children. How many great memories are inspired by a Target or an Applebee’s?

Herb Grant is a Dispatch copy editor.
hgrant@dispatch.com


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