When you're alone and
life is making you lonely
You can always go - downtown.
When
you've got worries all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help I
know downtown.
Just listen to the
music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the
neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?
The lights are much
brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your
cares
So go downtown
Things will be
great when you're downtown
No finer place for sure
downtown
Everything's waiting for you.
From “Downtown” by Petula Clark (Released 1964)
As a '69 graduate of Valley High School, my strong Lucasville community was vital to my upbringing. Without a doubt, the people in my village reinforced the values and education I hold so dear. Yet, in my rural county, the seat of Portsmouth – a city of over 42,000 in the 1930s – was the central hub of social activity for all community residents of Scioto County. Still having a population of 28,000 or so, Portsmouth was regarded as our gathering place for the vast majority of our cultural activities.
With my 16th birthday and access to car keys, Portsmouth – only ten straight-as-the-crow-flies miles away from my Lucasville home – was the prime gathering place for meeting and socializing with people my age from other county schools. Weekends were special times there offering many recreational activities teeming with people from West Portsmouth, Wheelersburg, East Portsmouth, Minford and all points between.
We shopped in Portsmouth on a thriving main street featuring many department stores and other retail establishments – including Sears, Montgomery Ward, J.C. Penny, Martings, Kobackers, and Bragdons to name a few.
We attended dances and musical events there in many clubs and venues featuring live bands and rock music – places such as the CAY, Dreamland Pool, the 17th Street Armory, and the Steelworkers Hall with bands like the Bare Facts, the Rampagers, the Soul Brothers, and Blended Foam.
We attended concerts in Portsmouth featuring popular performers of the day – at PHS, the Buckinghams; at Spartan Stadium, the Dick Clark Caravan of Stars featuring Jackie DeShannon, Mitch Ryder, and many others; Armory events with the Royal Guardsmen and the original “boy band” Gary and the Hornets.
We “hung out” at eateries, record stores, and pool halls – centers of activity such as the BBF, the Big Boy, Burger Chef, Guiseppe’s Pizza, (Smiling Ed's) Record Shop, and Lowe's Recreational Center.
We attended movies in Portsmouth at the Columbia and LaRoy theaters.
We bowled at the Sunset, Rainbow, and Classic lanes.
We played putt-putt behind Stewart's Root Beer.
And, we attended seasonal events in Portsmouth like the nearly week long River Days celebration that featured boat races, midway attractions, numerous national musical artists, and the best parade in the tri-state.
Let me reiterate. To a considerable extent, Portsmouth was home to Scioto County residents whether they were from Lucasville, South Webster, and any other rural village. Having P-Town as a base was both comforting and convenient. How we relied on what was going on in “town” to make us happy and, in a country way – cosmopolitan. Whether we were looking for culture, fashion, entertainment, or simply a place to “hang out,” Portsmouth was the place.
I specifically remember the feel of the place then. It made you feel proud of your area to just walk around the town – being one of a crowd enjoying the day. Whether being a part of a busy Friday night of shopping on Chillicothe Street, or wearing your school jacket to town on Saturday after a recent high school football victory, you were an integral part of the flavor of the Ohio River/Scioto Valley community. You always felt Portsmouth was your town. You always felt the people there were your people.
Looking back now, it pains me that Scioto County youth no longer have the strong Portsmouth connection. It's a loss I believe is so detrimental to growing up here. Trying to explain how important Portsmouth was to us is nearly impossible. Just speaking about the number of stores – open and thriving downtown then – draws skeptical looks. Sadly, the spirit of the town has deteriorated into a depression that pervades county life to this day.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to tear down P-Town. Just the opposite – I'm making an attempt – no matter how futile – to express how important Portsmouth was to this teen's development. The Petula Clark hit song above relates the sentiment of that special place to me. “Everything's waiting for you” downtown.
I was very fortunate to experience a happier time, a time before empty buildings and streets vacant of pedestrians dominated our hometown. For God's sake, give me some icons and memories once more such as …
* Seeing the guy on Chilli hawking the paper with his call of “Posts – smith Times!”
* Devouring a tasty “dipped bun” grease burger from the Hamburger Inn.
* Taking a ride on Wards or Marting's escalator.
* Sneaking into the balcony of the LaRoy.
* Having a cold beer and a game of pool at Bennies.
* Eating a fish sandwich at Kilcoynes where no tartar sauce ever showed its face.
* Filling up a water container at Kinney Spring.
* Getting a block of ice from Stockham's on 11th and Chilli.
* Having a pair of shoes repaired at Hollenbecks.
* Buying a suit of clothes at Wolff's.
* Ordering a delicious milkshake at Joe and Ann's.
* Rushing to the Record Shop to snag the latest album or 45.
* Seeing a movie in a real theater, not a room partition.
* Having a night out of music and dancing at the Club Franklin.
That Portsmouth connection was strong. After all, most of us were born there, whether at General or Mercy Hospital. No one from other parts of the county counted their numerous trips to town. The reassuring thought of finding whatever we needed there made any excursion worth the drive. The magnetic appeal is gone. Oh, if we could just bring it back.
No I cannot forget
where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love
me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let
me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a
big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look who's in the big
town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and that's good enough
for me
Well I was born in a
small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this
small town
And that's probably where they'll bury me
From “Small Town” by John Cougar Mellencamp
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