If I were king, the Ohio State off-campus area would have stayed the exact same as when I was a “student” from March 2008 to December 2010.
The area would exist as a time capsule for me, anytime I wanted to reminisce about a time in my life when I had no money and drank too much.
You might feel the same way about your time at Ohio State. However, we both know that towns growing at Columbus’ rate don’t stay the same for long.
It’s best not to get attached to anything in this city. The only golden calf is Ohio State football. Buildings, businesses, people—well, you know what they say about time and change around here.
The Bier Stube was the first place my friends took me when I visited the famous agricultural school while attending the University of Montana. My best friend’s girlfriend at the time thought I would hate it. You won’t be surprised she became his ex-girlfriend shortly thereafter (for reasons unentirely related to preposterously thinking I would hate the Stube).
The Stube, to me, is dive bar protection. From the outside, it looks like a good place to get stabbed. But inside, it’s a stepback into a simpler time, replete with a jukebox that can run all night on a handful of quarters.
Even though I don’t drink anymore and hadn’t been to the Stube in years, I still smiled serenly last week when I saw the Stube still standing, like a sentry, against the inevitable densification of High Street.
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Though that’s not yet the case for the Stube, the writing is all but on the wall.
From Brent Warren of columbusunderground.com:
A new development proposal for High Street south of campus is working its way through the approval process.
Buckeye Real Estate has submitted a plan to the University Impact District Review Board to build a six-story, 95-unit apartment building building at the southwest corner of High Street and Ninth Avenue. The project would require the demolition of three existing buildings, each home to local businesses with long tenures in the neighborhood.
None longer, though, than the Bier Stube, 1479 N. High St., the dive bar located in a one-story building set back from the street that has been been a University District fixture since 1966.
Also within the footprint of the proposed development is a two-story brick building – home to Yau’s Chinese Bistro and Portofino’s Pizza – and the 14-0 Express beer and convenience store.
In a previous life, I would have threatened to do something drastic if you can believe that. Something like threatening to chain me to a beer tap to prevent the bulldozers from claiming another legendary watering hole in this city.
Lord knows I wouldn’t have had to work too hard to ferment the rage among today’s readers. People, myself included, don’t like change.
This is, after all, another example of the campus area losing something unique that will be replaced by something not nearly as unique or cool.
But, the truth is, south campus was a dump before the changes. I should know. I lived on McMillen—a stone’s throw from the Stube.
Columbus can’t have it both ways. It can’t preserve stuff like the Stube and continue to grow. I wish we could do this in a way that preserved a semblance of character, but this city proved long ago it doesn’t have the facilities or desire for that kind of change.
This is the name of the game. And the densification of High Street, overall, is a good thing. Dense housing along transit lines is what big cities do, even if Columbus is still trying to figure out that second part.
The city has outgrown the Stube. Just like it outgrew Mama’s Pasta & Brew and other watering holes that I don’t remember since they got bulldozed before my time.
I love the Stube. But almost 15 years removed from my regular status, I can’t remember any cherished conversations I had there. Just drunken banter. I can’t remember any specific events other than getting piss drunk with my friends or 10-cent hot dog day on Major League Baseball’s Opening Day.
I won’t be on my deathbed recounting all the money I spent there with a smile on my face.
At the end of the day, cities need space for people to live more than they need space for them to drink mind poison. Nostalgia works on humans like it does because we always remember things much better than they were.
That will be us with the Stube. Remembering it as more than just some dumpy bar with piss-soaked bathrooms and a patio overlooking an alleyway and 35-mph traffic along High Street.
It will go out having served its purpose and as the last of its kind along High Street. Knowing that timeless preservation isn’t an option, what more can we ask from such an establishment?