Out of all the Columbus area bars we have hung out in on a regular basis, perhaps none is more average than Gabby’s. And that’s totally okay! Average is a solid mid-range score, is nothing to be embarrassed about. And in fact, you can make a compelling argument that when it comes to bars, on a certain kind of night, average is often exactly what you are looking for.
It’s just that there isn’t a ton here to distinguish this tavern, in any way. The interior is as anonymous as the clientele – for the most part – and there are no strong drawing cards otherwise, unless this back patio counts, during the warm weather months. They had karaoke here, back when this was watering hole was in our standard rotation, and a pleasant, cozy atmosphere. It was a convenient and likeable enough spot that this became something of our base camp for about a year and a half. However, owing in part to its unusual location – on a commercial circle you wouldn’t expect to encounter in the middle of a residential neighborhood – it’s unlikely we would have ever stumbled onto it, if not so close to where I was renting an apartment at the time. And, owing to its averageness, just as improbable that we would have made extensive cross-town voyages to such. But it was here and nice enough, and therefore suited our needs to just fine.
We would wind up having our share of inevitable highights here, too, of course. Highest ranking for me is the night I managed to bring home a very attractive brunette whom I had met here just a couple hours earlier – this only happened a few times during my Cbus career, going home with some woman on the same night I met her (as in, for one-on-one amorous reasons, not like some girls coming back to a party or whatever), and she was the best looking of the bunch. At the opposite end, maybe, and indicative of how anonymous this place is, Damon and I had been regulars here for months upon months and had basically just begun our involvement with Megan and Amber, respectively, during this occasion where those two said they wanted to go play pool somewhere. He and I immediately suggest Gabby’s, and climb in Megan’s car, only to arrive here and discover…they had no pool table. It’s just not a very big bar, and nonetheless, we we were positive they had a table in here somewhere. These girls are laughing, yet perplexed, furrowing their brows and saying something to the effect of, “I thought you guys said you come here all the time?”
Falling somewhere in between is this interview I taped, with my good friend Paul Radick, shortly before he moved to Florida. I wanted to capture his memories of his years playing in the band Bedlam while we still had a chance to, not knowing for sure how long it might be before I would see the guy again. At the time, I was planning on writing a history of the band, but, well, let’s just say I later decided it was probably for the best to shelve this concept – directly as a result of this tape.
For the record, I take full responsibility for this episode, the fallout from this recording. And yet in a way, I’m actually glad that it happened – because if certain people were this heated about a few of the quotes, then it’s best that we aired this out before I published a book featuring said quotes. So yeah, this pretty much nixed that entire concept. As for specifics, let’s just say it was a night about a year or so down the road where Paul returned to town, and a bunch of us went out for drinks. Then returned to my place, where I somehow got the idea, as Damon started jamming on some music, that I would get on the mic and recite some of Paul’s most famous quips, as a “tribute” to him…which then led to this really awesome idea that I would bust out the Gabby’s interview tape, and run that through the amp instead, over top of the music that Damon continued to play.
Well, in my defense, it was all in the name of good fun, and if I had any inkling that anybody would get this bent out of shape about some of Radick’s quotes, then I never would have broadcast the thing. Was it a bush league move? Absolutely. I don’t think too many reporters who take themselves seriously would engage in such tomfoolery. Then again, were Hunter S. Thompson in the room, I’m sure he would have been rooting me onward, encouraging this stunt. So whatever. I didn’t recall there being anything too harsh on this tape – and still believe that to be true – but again, in roundabout fashion, it’s for the best that this happened. Some of this sorting as far as which direction we were headed in was inevitable, in retrospect, and if it weren’t this incident dividing us into separate camps, then it would have been another.
So one of the people present, a subject of some amusing soundbites contained within, is less than pleased. The party instantly breaks up, such as it is. He calls me at work the following morning and chews me out at great length, with some mighty colorful language, before abruptly hanging up. To this day, that is the last occasion where we ever spoke on the phone. I wouldn’t say I’m really the grudge holding sort, more that sometimes people instantly slot themselves into this category where I basically never think about them again. He was kind of instantly out of my circle in that moment, because I’m a busy guy and don’t have time for that stuff, and it just never occurred to me to pick up the phone and call his number ever again after that. And when something like this does happen, I feel like I don’t go around badmouthing people a ton, rather that I’m much more inclined just to avoid even mentioning their name. Which is pretty much always the situation here, too.
Well, okay, so I will probably explain that whole episode in greater detail at some point down the road. For now, though, this interview remains fascinating for reasons that have nothing to do with its original stated purpose. It’s funny how often this turns out to be the case, regardless of the subject. Anyway, I recall it was a warm spring night (May 2, 2001 to be precise) and we were sitting on the back patio, that our waitress just so happened to be moving to Florida soon herself. However, I would have sworn this was a chill atmosphere, with only a few other tables occupied – and yet, listening to this interview now, the background noise of the patrons often threatens to drown us out. Also, I don’t recall them playing CDs or the radio back here over the speakers, and yet at one point you can hear Van Halen’s I Can’t Stop Loving You cutting through the noise.
Anyway, here’s a short snippet of the least controversial section: a brief interaction with our waitress. Is this an amateur move, posting it here? I have no idea. But at some point you have to actually, you know, do something with this material. If someone takes offense at this then I guess I really should just hang it up. But yeah, if by some miracle our waitress ever stumbled onto this and complained, then I would totally take it down, though.
II.
These days, Gabby’s Bar is fairly active on Facebook, although they refer to themselves as Gabby’s Tavern on there. I follow them and occasionally see an update, but haven’t set foot inside the place in quite some time. Amusingly enough, on their Facebook page, they link to a Mapquest profile which people are still leaving comments on as recently as 2022 – I don’t know why, but stuff like that cracks me up, the ancient technology and forums and sites which refuse to die.
This could be a metaphor for the bar itself, actually. Many other businesses have come and gone from this neck of the woods, yet Gabby’s continues to thrive. Based upon the photos of a wood grain looking interior, I would say that hasn’t changed a ton. Ditto the old photographs, often black and white pictures of Hollywood stars from yesterday, and occasional weird art pieces on the walls. Nowadays the focus seems to be on live music, and a renewed dedication to serving food (in fact, I don’t even remember what their grub was like, or if they even had any, back in the early 2000s) such as coney dogs and wings. Did they ever get that pool table, though?
John Hensel is listed as owning Gabby’s from sometime in the 1980s to at least 2022. That’s a remarkable run and it seems unlikely there are very many figures around town who can top this. Actually the Donatos and the Dairy Queen on this circle have both been there since ’97 if not earlier, which also feels like an amazing accomplishment – and Gabby’s has both of them handily beat, because it’s been in operation from 1983, possibly even before then (I can’t seem to find anything else that might have been at 1887 Tamarack Cir N prior to this, nor when Gabby’s itself opened). But whatever the case, even if only existing since ’83, there can’t be many in Cbus who have been in operation this long with the same name.
In October of 2008, Hensel is quoted in the Dispatch concerning an article about some recent break-ins throughout this area. “Forest Park itself is fairly safe,” he says of this region, as someone who lives nearby and also believes the local crime was worse in the ’80s. In 2005, he locked horns with the city over the recently enacted smoking ban, hiring an attorney to fight it – but of course, we all know how this turned out. Finally, I found another sweet Dispatch piece from 1985, which is touting their recently expanded beer garden, with a photo of some Oakland Nursery employees partaking of it and some cold adult beverages back there. Apparently the patio was among the first of its kind on the north side, and won all kinds of awards.
According to this article, Gabby Hartnett was once a co-owner, which is where the place got its name. Surely this could not be the former baseball great, however, although I can’t really tell you that for sure. At the time of this piece, Nancy Grote is the owner, though it is “operated” by Donatos, whatever that means, and therefore serves the full range of that pizza chain’s offerings here. Jim Oeffler is listed as the manager, too, to further muddy these waters on exactly who is running the show here. Apparently the back patio was only “open” through October, and while that might still technically be true, I suspect that nowadays if you want to sit out there drinking your beer like an idiot in the middle of the winter, they would probably let you.
“This is not a loud and rowdy bar,” Grote tells reporter Shelly Bishop, “we have tried to create the environment of a small English pub in an American neighborhood tavern, and I think we’ve succeeded.”
Okay, well, that’s about all I have on this bar at the moment. This strikes me as a short piece, and I always tend to cringe at posting something less substantial. But kind of need to get the ball rolling on this site, and can’t dedicate months to every single item on my to-do list (there are probably at least 100 I have on my little sheet here, of posts that still need written). So this is what I’m going to press with.
I do have a couple more Gabby’s pictures to share. One of these is the result of a camera malfunction, although these can sometimes wind up looking somewhat cool. In this instance, if not for the other back patio photo above, you wouldn’t know what this is. But compared side by side, it becomes pretty obvious:
Then this one is from the “front” parking lot, along Tamarack Circle, although curiously I don’t remember us ever using this lot or its entrance. The one behind the place, which was larger and more centrally located, was always much more convenient, particularly as we were usually coming up from Tamarack Blvd most of the time anyway.
