Hamilton Road

A pressing situation demands our attention, one pertaining to Leigh’s male cat, Gus. She recently purchased a pink bow for some reason and tied it around his neck, a development which has Alan joking the cat’s going to turn out gay unless she removes the thing. As Leigh has done nothing of the sort, Alan determines he’ll have to take matters into his own hands, and somehow comes up with the brilliant idea that this requires a trip to Wildman’s Leather-N-Lace.

“I figured I’d head over to there and see if I could find Gus one of those black leather collars with metal spikes on it,” Alan says, grinning, “you feel like coming along?”

“Yeah sure,” I agree with a shrug.

He got the idea from these hilarious commercials which are on the radio constantly, where this gravel throated pardner who sounds like a cross between Sam Elliott and Wolfman Jack, his accent half vaguely southern and half pure cowboy, extols this store’s wares in rapid fire fashion, spots where he is sure to squeeze the outlet’s name  – Waaaahldmansleathernlace! – into the mix on average a good five or six times. We’re not exactly sure what specific wares might await us there, but based upon these ads, they do seem like a good bet to carry such an item, even if it is ordinarily meant for humans.

After consulting the phone book for an address, he and I finish of our beers and pile into his oversized electric blue pickup, tooling east from campus to the interstate and finally out to South Hamilton Road. We finally locate the place, and are not disappointed to step inside, as it does indeed fuse an odd mix of hillbilly/biker/kinky sex sensibilities all together into one raucous package. They have cowboy boots, leather jackets, motorcycle helmets, sure, but also leopard pattern bikinis, nurse outfits, and handcuffs. And as Alan searches for a spiked leather collar, I get it into to my head to secure a wallet chain.

The wiry, bearded, middle aged dude, who is working alone at the moment behind the counter, we theorize might be the actual voice from the radio pitches. Then the phone rings and we get to hear him answer with that distinctive business moniker slash catch phrase – “waaahldmansleathernlace!” and thereby erasing all doubt. He’s not just this operation’s radio adman, he’s probably the owner and possibly its primary if not only employee. We almost feel we are in the midst of celebrity. Unbelievable…and unbelievably cool.

Alan does eventually locate a collar for poor Gus, but I come up empty in the wallet chain department. Which is really just as well, considering this novelty shop is pretty damn expensive. A recent hilarious online review makes it sounds as though the old man is still holding court behind the counter, however, and though this less than pleased patron gave it one star, I’m kind of tickled to see this shop is still around, at 2264 S. Hamilton.

Upon leaving there that day, we wound up next at a nearby Service Merchandise. I can’t find the exact address for that one at the moment, as it was closed down eons ago, and in fact it seems this chain has disappeared completely in favor of an online-only business model. I couldn’t even tell you what sort of merchandise they specialized in, but circa 1997, they were definitely out of backpacks, trash cans, and fuses, the three remaining items on our shopping list.

This entire excursion was obviously a little strange, but then again Hamilton Road itself carves out somewhat of an odd niche in the Columbus landscape. It’s also central to my first significant experiences in Columbus, at age ten in 1985, when my dad and stepmom wound up living at an apartment complex down here, off of Hamilton.

Living as we did an hour north of here then, in some boonies outside of the Mansfield region, it felt like an epic journey anytime you made it down to Columbus. Aside from a couple of family trips to pick up someone at the airport, or a singular, fondly recalled visit to COSI, an earlier one with gambling crazed relatives to bet on the horses at Scioto Downs, my first memories of this city are during this winter. It’s Christmas break of ’85, when they pick up my brother and me for the first time in two years and bring us down to check out their new place.

Maybe it’s the distortion of being so young, and catching your first extended glimpses of a major city, but I really do think Hamilton Road was a little more glamorous and happening back then. They took us to this magical land we’d never seen before, known as Toys-R-Us, which seemed completely mind-blowing, and the weekly all-you-can-eat perch dinner on Sunday, at another unfamiliar establishment we didn’t have back home, Captain D’s. This chain has without question lost much of its luster throughout the subsequent years, and I think its overall plight (although if I’m not mistaken, this particular location has held steady for about four decades now, somehow) is emblematic of this corridor as a whole.

They have a cheerful two story apartment on some side street, a stone’s throw from Hamilton. I remember they rented a Herbie movie and a couple of others for us to watch – VHS, of course – and that there was some Alvin & The Chipmunks holiday album spinning often on the turntable. A Christmas tree in the living room corner bearing gifts, one of which was this bizarre boxing game featuring Optimus Prime and Megatron.

It has plastic upright models of these two characters in the middle of a ring, and if you landed a punch just right, your opponent’s head would pop upward a few inches on this spring, meaning you’d won the game. There’s one instance where I’m getting just a little too into this, however, an occasion where Daniel and I are playing it on the kitchen floor, while Dad and Faith are learning some new board game they’ve gotten, above us on the table. Having just lost the latest match, I also then receive a stern talking-to for punching my little brother in the arm.

By the next time we saw them, they’d bought a house on a sleepy residential street in Gahanna. But if in town with them, over Easter or summer or Christmas break, or even some random weekend, we would still make the occasional trip out this way. The perch dinners at Captain D’s became something of a tradition, if we happened to be around on a Sunday. I also remember Dad taking me on a meandering motorcycle ride one afternoon, in part along the slightly pastoral northern stretches of Hamilton by the airport, so he could show me where he worked, at the Rockwell aircraft plant.

Of course, they wound up moving away from here before too long, and a good ten years would pass before I ended up in Columbus myself. Thus my experiences here are broken apart into three widely separated chunks: those childhood visits in the mid 80s, an adult living in Columbus in the late 90s/early aughts, and then researching what it looks like now nearly twenty years later.

It’s kind of weird to be occasionally reminded that there are major thoroughfares in your own city which you never travel to, even though that street alone is probably more action packed than 95% of the towns in Ohio. A gluttony of riches, you might say, often taken for granted. And so even though far removed from the trendier districts, well past its prime and sorely in need of a reboot for the most part, Hamilton Road has plenty going for it and is interesting enough to examine in depth – possibly even more interesting, you might even argue, due to its overlooked status.

But enough about this ancient history. Let’s examine the current state of this critical if neglected artery…

Goodwill Thrift Store (5130 N. Hamilton Rd.) – you presumably know the score here.

Kohl’s (4865 N. Hamilton Rd.): Somebody drew me a map to their apartment back in the early 2000s, and it has this on it. At this point, weird artifacts like that feel like something out of Treasure Island, and I’m compelled to mention this place for that reason alone. Kudos to a brick and mortar retail establishment for sticking around this long, though, even a corporate one.

Stoneridge Plaza: It’s the corner of Morse and Hamilton, but is another instance where they’ve given a parking lot a street name (Stoneridge Ln). You suspect this is done to make a new development seem more important than it otherwise is. It doesn’t matter much in this day and age, of course, but was mighty annoying in the time before prevalent online maps. And, really, it’s still kind of pretentious, even now.

But these minor quibbles aside, this charming little plaza offers highlights aplenty, even as it’s decades past brand new. Alumni Club was a classy if somewhat yuppie-centric bar of longstanding, where you’re likely to catch live music most nights. At some point I believe they slightly rebranded as Alumni Sports Bar, but either way, it’s sadly gone now. Currently that spot sits empty, though I imagine someone will fill it before too long. Elsewhere, there’s a satellite restaurant of the local Cap City enterprise here, and also one of another Columbus institution which has expanded well beyond here, Max & Erma’s. 101 Beer Kitchen is newer than either of these, a nuevo rustic gastropub with craft beers aplenty. The ever present Kroger, quite naturally, because heaven forbid there’s a spare block without one of these, and then a Cinemark 16 screen theater, which I’ve only visited once – oddly enough, because of Kroger. They’d rented out a screen one afternoon for a meat/seafood manager’s meeting, following our tour of the nearby store. My buddy Miles was working at this Kroger until recently, actually.

Though I see the sprawl has blazed beyond this region like wildfire, I’m still thinking back to the prehistoric, pre-Google Maps era (2001-ish) where it was basically wilderness beyond here, to the north and to the west. But by all means, explore to your heart’s content. Otherwise, this particular tour is moving south.

1325 N. Hamilton Rd. – no longer in use, though it did once belong to Provincial House Fireplace & Patio, as of Oct ‘01 

1245A N. Hamilton Rd.: Beds N’ Stuff/Waterbeds N’ Stuff Superstore. Occupies the left half of a building it shares with (and receives second billing to, on the roadside sign) Second Sole, a shoemonger.

1137 N. Hamilton Rd.: As of October 2001, this was a chill little bar called Cactus Cafe. Currently, this address does not exist, but would be located roughly where the Fresh Thyme Market (1125) is now.

Gahanna Christian Academy (817 N. Hamilton Rd.): Here’s a video of a volleyball game shot inside the gym there, from September 2008. A bunch of us went to watch my sister Robin play in this epic battle for the ages. Not the most compelling footage in the world, maybe, but of possible interest to history nerds and/or friends and family of those involved:

I’m splitting the road into east/west halves for the next stretch here. This is my goal for all such major roads (at least until technology/personal know-how emerges to match what I really envision) but you’ve got to start somewhere. As always, I would say please try to use a computer or at least a tablet when you’re using this site, and if nothing else turn your phone sideways:

I have actually ridden my bicycle along Hamilton Road, one day many a summer ago. It feels like this completes the range of possible experiences along this major road, somehow. I know that legally a cyclist has every right to be out here, but you escape from jaunts like this feeling as if it were divine intervention that you managed to survive the onslaught of cars. Anyway, I was living on campus at the time, and like many a young idiot of that transitional age (you were required to carry car insurance, but they had no way of regulating this; many of us just rolled the dice that we wouldn’t be pulled over, ever, with mixed results) I’d had my license suspended for failure to carry insurance. When I was finally eligible for reinstatement, for whatever reason a trip to this license place off of Hamilton Road was required.

Bicycling out from Summit Street to the license bureau, I just sort of improvised my route with a general lay of the land in my head. And then back again, too, of course, which wound up being 20+ miles round trip. Anyway for some reason I have distinct memories of being on Woodland and somewhat surprised to find that it dead ended into 5th. But then taking 5th over to Hamilton and then south from there, all the way across I-70 to the license place – which seemed like sheer hell at the time, though this journey is actually one of my fondest memories of that summer now. Funny how this works.

Waterbeds N’ Stuff Superstore (815 S. Hamilton Rd.): another outpost of this famous local enterprise, with just a slight rebranding (Beds N’ Stuff) at one point, around 2018 I think, although they seem to have reverted back to the original name now. A larger than usual location, as one might gather from the “superstore” modifier.

Body Language Tattoo (1101 S. Hamilton Rd.): Has been here since at least October of 2001. Back then, it was called BodyLanguage Productions, however.

Lalibela Restaurant (1111 S. Hamilton Rd.): once upon a time the address Breezer’s, a club that was open up through at least October 2001.

Tee Jaye’s (350 S. Hamilton Rd.): This country themed comfort food chain is much less ubiquitous than it used to be. It looks like there are just four remaining within the outerbelt, two slightly beyond, and one more each in Newark and Zanesville, that’s it. The most famous of these was probably the now demolished one at Morse and High, which I’ve also personally visited the most. Although running a close second, as improbable as it seems now, there also used to be one at the bottom of the hill down from Grandview, along Dublin Road/Riverside/Route 33, which was a perfect late night option after clubbing downtown.

One charming touch at this particular location, glimpsed during a recent visit, is a historical photo gallery hanging in one corner. Though this franchise probably had its apex in the late 90s, they remain solid alternatives to something like a Denny’s. Offering breakfast around the clock, too, but better than a Waffle House – something closer to if Cracker Barrel remained open 24/7. Having said that, the best thing here might be the country fried steak, breaded and covered with gravy.  Oh yeah, also, this here Whitehall outpost appears to be the only one of the eight which isn’t open all night. They close at 11pm now, so plan accordingly. During that aforementioned 2022 visit, they were positively slammed, which our waitress said has often been the case since the nearby Brice Road location closed.

Roosters (376 S. Hamilton Rd.): Another in this series of Columbus-centric (though rapidly expanding) operations. You basically can’t go wrong here if in the mood for pub grub and a beer. If you find yourself in an unfamiliar stretch of town and are too hungry to take a chance on something weird, yet don’t want fast food or another famous franchise, I feel like these locally based ones at least make for a respectable compromise.

Alexander Hamilton Plaza Apartments (496 S. Hamilton Rd.): One day we had to improvise a route to the east side because I-70 was completely shut down or something, due to Mike Pence’s motorcade driving through town. Once we make our way out here via Broad, my daughter Emma cheers, “Hamilton!” upon seeing the name of this road. This due to her being a huge fanatic of the highly popular musical of the same name. My stepdaughter Maddie and I attempted to convince Emma that this was just a coincidence, that the naming of this road has nothing to do with that figure. Seconds later, of course, we pass this complex, and she points it out to us.

Otherwise, I know nothing about the place. Although the pictures online make the apartments look a little more stylish and modern than I would have expected.

836 S. Hamilton Rd: Above is a monthly statement from our second landlord, for the house we were renting on Summit. I have to say, I don’t remember the office being anywhere near this close to Kroger (it’s basically right behind it), but memory can be a tricky thing sometimes. At least a couple other businesses have called this address home since then (Trendsetters To Trendsetters, the awesomely named Dezalovsky Investments), and it is still listed as office space, though I can’t find any info on a current resident.

BC Campus doesn’t ring a bell, but Hamilton Village does – I think this is who we were making our rent checks out to. At any rate, I was only out here once, when our landlord Mark Myers asked me to drive over one afternoon. Upon arriving there, he explained that he found four bounced rent checks of mine stuffed into a desk. Apparently his former secretary, who just left the company, didn’t know what to do with these – not just mine, but everyone’s – and buried them in the back of a drawer instead. Let’s just say in those younger days I had a “creative” approach to balancing my checkbook, in other words nonexistent, and had no idea these were floating around in limbo, unpaid. In our defense, youths of this era were caught in this tricky middle period where ATMs were suddenly everywhere, yet you couldn’t yet track anything online (and certainly not with a touch screen phone).

In addition to our building on Summit (a large house that was chopped into four different apartments), I know he was also renting the one right beside us (1996 and 1998 now – I’m not sure if they had 1/2 designations also or what back then), plus who knows how many more around town.

Kroger (850 S. Hamilton Rd.): I only breezed through this location once, right after that memorable low point with the bounced check.  That day we reached an agreement that I’d catch up by giving him an extra $100 a month. To give you some perspective of how much money this was and the cost of items circa 1998, I had $5 to my name, no food to speak of at home, and wouldn’t get paid for two more days – but just so happened to be scheduled off those same two days. I stopped at this Kroger and walked around until buying a box of mini chocolate donuts and the materials to make hamburgers, planning to stay indoors and live off of these items alone until payday. Which is exactly what I did.

1383 S. Hamilton Rd.

Currently Zara Restaurant & Bar, an East African establishment. As of October 2001, however, it was Selam Restaurant. They had stand up comedy night every Wednesday.

1403 S. Hamilton Rd.: pure emptiness at the moment, though Record Connection used to be here. Circa December 1999 but probably not for too long beyond that.

AT&T Store (2583 S. Hamilton Rd.): As of late ’99 we had four different CD Warehouse stores here in town, and one of them was located here.

Eastland Mall: Though the address for the Eastland Mall is given as….2740 Eastland Mall (don’t get me started on this topic), everyone can see it sits at the corner of Hamilton and Refugee, with I-270 buzzing by diagonally overhead. Although they’ve also made the questionable decision to have a Sears entrance with a STORE CLOSING banner as the official photo on Google Maps, this was in fact the last of the four “geography” themed shopping malls left here in town. Northland was bulldozed years ago, while Westland and Southland have been taken over by other businesses.

At the tail end of 2022, this puppy bit the dust. I tried gaining entry here during a Sunday morning in October of that year, but was informed by security that they didn’t open until noon. Somehow I just knew this would be the last chance to explore the interior, and it turns out I was right. Some of the final businesses hanging on here ranged from Tropico Caribbean Grill and Sone’s Bridal, to standard mall staples like Claire’s and Auntie Anne’s Pretzels and a Kids Foot Locker. The Sears anchor store itself left eons ago, but they held onto the space afterwards, kept it open as an appliance repair shop.

2194 S. Hamilton Rd.

Currently Showroom Auto Sales. It used to be (up through at least October 2001), however, an altogether different kind of “show” room: a strip club named Platinum Fox. For Monday Night Football, they had a wet tee shirt contest every halftime, a complimentary food buffet throughout.

ZZ Boots/Wildman’s Leather-N-Lace (2264 S. Hamilton Rd.): Though the visit mentioned up top is my only, it’s somehow heartening to see that this operation, established in 1980, is still up and running. You even hear the radio commercials constantly, with this same dude extolling his wares, in what hasn’t been a hip part of town for at least three decades, and this seems somewhat miraculous.

2596 S. Hamilton Rd.: The AMC Eastland Center 8 movie theater was once found on this plot of land, but the entire building has been knocked down. It’s just a huge and mostly unnecessary parking lot now not particulary needed by any of the other nearby businesses.

Captain D’s (2850 S. Hamilton Rd.): And I’m saddened to see this place is closed now, too. Though standards went kind of south with this franchise at some point, I still have fond memories from childhood. It would be fascinating to see a list or interactive database or something from a company like this, showing which locations have been around for how long. I’m not sure why they’d be interested in maintaining such a thing, but it would be cool. And as far as Captain D’s, I feel the tenure on this one has to be among its longest ever, nationwide.

3100 S. Hamilton Rd.

Currently Thunder Tire and Service. As of 1997, though, it was still one of 5 Kmart locations remaining in town.

Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers (3820 S. Hamilton Rd.): Erin still cracks up and gives me a hard time about our last visit here, the morning after Maria’s wedding. It was not a pretty sight. Her maniacal brother Tommy would not leave me alone on the coffee flavored tequila front and while I made it through the night without incident, let’s just say an early lunch here did not sit well. Fortunately that was the only such night for me in about a dozen years or so. But yeah, these folks have some amazing chicken, and they haven’t yet expanded everywhere. If you spot a location in your travels, by all means check it out.

The Caniac Combo (currently $10.99) is probably the best deal on the menu, which breaks down as 6 large chicken tenders, a pile of fries, Texas toast, cole slaw, and 2 containers of their Cane’s sauce. The chicken is itself terrific, but what ramps it up to a whole other level is this dipping sauce – I think it must be some kind of smoky BBQ mixed with mayo, and a healthy shake of black pepper. Whatever it is, the stuff is tremendous.

Ricart Automotive Group (4255 S. Hamilton Rd.): For decades, this establishment billed itself as the largest car dealership in the world. In more recent times they seem to have lost this title, but whatever the case, it’s still a huge complex, probably bigger even than back when they were making that claim. Among other things, there’s even a Subway franchise and fitness center located on site here.

Pretty much anyone who has lived in central Ohio for the last four decades is familiar with Fred Ricart’s TV commercials, during which he is often found hamming it up via song parodies or impressions of famous personalities. One of the most memorable for me was probably his version of War’s Why Can’t We Be Friends? which in his hands became I Can Deal With Fred. To this day, I still get that version stuck in my head whenever hearing the original. Usually spotted with an acoustic guitar in these promos, and/or serving up zany marketing stunts such as “buy this $10,000 teddy bear, and I’ll throw in a free car!” his trademark slogan was and probably still is, We’re Dealin! 

On a more serious note (well, sort of), there has always been this longstanding rumor which I’ve heard from countless people in nearly identical fashion, which makes you think there might be a kernel of truth to it. This rumor involved his wife allegedly catching him with another woman, and coming after him with a curling iron in particularly graphic fashion. Pretty much anyone living in central Ohio has probably heard this, too, but let me restate again that as far as I know it’s only a rumor.