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For many years Ben hayes was a columnist for the Columbus Citizen and the Columbus Citizen-Journal. Until his death in 1989, Ben wrote articles for the Fabulous Short North, predecessor of the Gazette. Many of his pieces were about the early days of the area now called the Short North and the colorful personalities who lived here.
Ben Hayes Recalls
the "Good ol' Days,"
from Broad & High
to the Short NorthThe first block of West Goodale Street before the Innerbelt cut across Short North . . .
Louie Casbarro was running a poker game in the upper room at Goodale and High Streets in 1912 when an idea crept in on him.
He had underestimated the times! Good times, they were.
Busy people were earning good wages. A boom was on. North High people had no time to sit around playing cards. There were factory jobs along the river and over on Fourth Street.
In Flytown, an entire family cleared used sand from a foundry. The railroad roundhouses, jobs there. Dining car help was a good bet on the fast runs.
Casbarro lacked players, had no pots to cut. So he closed his little casino to hit the sidewalk southward, as many before him had.
His pockets short of spondulix, he went looking for Pat "Old Man" Murnan, and a job. A job in Casbarro's line.
Murnan had a gambling joint in down town Columbus, at Lynn Street and High. Casbarro got by the doorman (both were Flytown boys) and went up and con fronted Murnan, a tall, flamboyant Irishman out of Sacred Heart parish.
Applicant was hired. Went to work that very night "dealing craps."
Through subsequent years of permis sive gambling and "heat," alternately, Casbarro worked upwards, becoming Murnan's First Lieutenant.
He was in charge when Murnan would be in Kentucky with his thoroughbreds.
The move across from the Deshler corner (supervised by Casbarro) was to W. Broad Street which became the Old Man's all-time famous location.
The entrance was lettered: "Downtown Office of Graceland Stock Farm." The Stock Farm was on the site of Graceland Shopping Center. (Murnan henchmen traveled millions of streetcar miles between the downtown gambling joint and the Beechwold farm, passing so often Goodale-and-High where Casbarro once had a poker game.) Recall?
Running all of the downtown action, from chuck-a-luck to black jack, was Louie "Right Arm" Casbarro until 1937 - whew! 25 years!- when Murnan died, and was buried in a tuxedo.
The solid black suit was news - front page! because the Old Man was the flashiest dresser in Columbus. I wrote his obituary in the old Ohio State Journal.
Meanwhile, at Goodale and High, Casbarro never was missed. Not one by stander ever asked: "What became of that guy with the deep voice who liked grapes so much?"
Retail went right on, davenports to can lids. Ed Offenbacher ran a tool shop. There were outlets for wheelbarrows (made east of High) and pianos (made west of High).
Goodale, from High to Park, had the genuine urban look. Some said that if the city had a true urban block then that was it. The corner at High was a main transfer point for streetcars. Trolleys were noisy. Even then, the sidewalks looked worn.
Big-shouldered buildings of good but varied design stood close together. In them were doctors, dentists, insurance men, lawyers, vendors of steamship passages, tailors, dressmakers. One woman rented costumes.
Dr. J.A. Riebel of 15 W. Goodale set an arm bone broken by a hailstone in July 1913. A man named Sprouse, J.S. Sprouse, was working on a Scioto dike when ice began falling. A 3-inch chunk struck his arm.
At street level was Ryan's Tailor Shop, also Van Rooyen's: Also Travella, the jeweler. All this the domain of Pod Connolley who ran an Irish saloon on West Spruce." Pod's precinct," it was called. Quite a political boss!
Mrs. Connolley, who had been one of the Donahue girls, was as solid as Pod was flighty. She was steady, caring and generous.
"Nell Connolley" - a man in 1964 wrote to a Columbus newspaper - " had her big dining table set 24 hours a day, with food ready. She was the better half."
The flagship, the architectural show boat of the neighborhood, was a hotel of exterior stylishness thrusting 12 bal conies from sunny southern exposure rooms on its 3rd, 4th, and 5th floors.
The Park Hotel (its first name) was built in 1876. The name came from Goodale Park, visible across Park Street. Later, it was the Goodale Hotel, and stood until the Innerbelt smashed through the site. Famous men lived there. To name two - General Joseph Geiger, Martin Rowan.
In the hotel's most protruding corner was a savings bank that had the word "bank" in gold leaf six times on its exterior glass.
Customers spoke of the bank entrance having two-way steps: You could carry your deposit spondulix up from either High or Goodale. (It is not true that Casbarro tried to get a loan at Columbus Savings to buy grapes at the market- house.)
Cuban cigars were bought in the newsstand under the bank: the two-cent Brooklyn Eagle was stacked beside the nickle New York World. The building followed a style New York City borrowed from Europe; its first floor was four steps down from the street.
Columbus has had few buildings so imbedded in the ground, in the glacial gravel. The uniqueness of the Park-Goodale Hotel building was springboard later for some choice Short North lore.
There came a day when the streetside flank of the hotel caught the enterprising eye of a 300-pound Chicagoan.
A proper lease, signed and sealed, and he cooked and served spaghetti, with meat balls. About 14 W. Goodale, four steps down on the ground floor of the hotel. It was Fat Sam's (of ficial name). Busy hour was three a.m.
And they say now - if you go the wide, empty block on a rainy afternoon and stand at the edge of the pavement you can pick up, sense and savor the presist ing garlicky, heady, tomato saucy and companionable aromas of the old pasta house.
He was Sam Fiantanico and many an ample apron he reddened in that kitchen. No name change ever was needed for Fat Sam's. He lost no weight.
They cherished Sam's spaghetti then as to day the old jocks praise Paul Brown's Champo Linament. Early morning (or late night) eaters on Goodale were not all gamblers, musicians, club comics, and strippers. The city had "squares" who popped out of their beds at 2:30 a.m. to mingle amid Sam's 3 a.m. crush.
The High Street buildings north of the hotel were uniformly three stories high (the Jai Lai restaurant eventually would begin there.) - and John Van Rooyen once said 200 families lived above the street level. It was called light housekeeping.
West of the hotel was the I.O.O.F. temple with myriad meeting rooms. Rebekahs as well as Odd Fellows came and went. Next, Haft's Acre, a sports arena and, opposite, in a corner house of red brick with an iron fence, lived the family of a former boxer named Minich.
At the other end of the block (south side) was Cronin's Corner (later Mellman's), a saloon where a barmaid could speak Gaelic but wouldn't.
Cronin's was distinguished, in the main, by the extraordinary beauty of Mrs. Cronin. Most patrons wearing glasses had gold wire frames. That was noticed by a visiting oculist out of Sulphur Bottom, W. Virginia.
The oculist was in Cronin's but once, and did not discover that Chicopee Alley ran behind the saloon. There was wager ing, nearly constantly, on its correct spelling. One infamous bet was collected after a spurious sign (with incorrect spelling) was placed on the corner.
But, today, there is no one at the corner, no one there to recall the money machine in Goodale Park. Two strangers carried it in, and it turned plain white paper into $20 bills.
Fire! Fire! Fire!
Ben Hayes Relates Area Fire House History
By Ben Hayes
Tiger Flowers took the world mid dleweight boxing title from Harry Greb in 1926. It wasn't easy.
Lloyd Flowers: A more recent performance under fire by Lloyd Flowers, a newspaper photographer (Columbus Citizen) who braved ricocheting bullets to get action pictures as police officers captured outlaws. It wasn't just once.
Sally Flowers: By far the biggest happening in Columbus TV during the small-screen era was Sally Flowers. The size of her following was extraordinary!
Our city also had the Flowers Engine House. It was the last of the safety struc tures named for benefactors of the Col umbus Fire Department. It was named for Dr. J. R. Flowers, a city councilman. Located at Spruce and High streets, southwest corner, it was the first Columbus fire house north of the train depot, opening in 1874.
Other construction soon would include a wooden World's-Fair-type pavilion call ed Columbus Auditorium, and it would at tract thousands to hear Billy Sunday, the sawdust-trail evangelist. Goodale and Park streets was its site, and just up Park would be Protestant Hospital.
Much wood was processed at the Bent Works at the end of Buttles Avenue, and there was a high fire risk. On High Street the 5-story Park Hotel would have an 1876 date.
The Flowers Engine House stood among department stores; Feibel Brothers was at Russell Street. On a brick building across Spruce from the engine house was lettered: John Murray Delmonico Sour Mash Whiskey.
Beyond the north city limits Ohio State University had opened the previous fall (1873), with one building housing all activities.
The "hep" expression at the time was "Everything's Jake!"
Meanwhile, at Spruce and High, the Flowers Engine House was ready in June 1874. An attractive, substantial building, the Flowers met all demands, apparently, except it lacked a tower in which to hang wet hose.
So, only 14 years later, the city built another engine house (No.4) just a few blocks away on the south side of East Russell (at Hamlet Street). It had a cor ner tower. That permitted hose drying, and permitted John G. Evans, merchant, to begin selling shoes (in 1888) in Flowers Engine House.
But the new owner left the front of the building virtually unchanged. That's what put the Flowers in local history, for up there a decorative stone entablature had FLOWERS ENGINE HOUSE in outstanding letters. As late as 1938 the marker was up there above the shoe store, prompting much curiosity and many questions. Meanwhile, firemen made their runs from Russell-and-Hamlet, where a loud alarm bell could be heard halfway up to Sacred Heart Church.
Steam Engines: It was about 1850 that Luther Donaldson, banker, started to watch developments in other American cities. The Latta Company was manufac turing steam fire engines in Cincinnati. The Holly Company was turning them out in Lockport, N.Y., and Silsby in Seneca Falls, N.Y.
Donaldson, as president of City Coun cil, led a fight to jettison volunteer firemen, establish squads of salaried men, buy steam pumpers that would provide water pressure. Honoring the banker, a prominent fire house (at Third and Chapel streets, just off Capitol Square) was named the Donaldson Engine House. Inside, at the ready, was a new steam engine, the Luther Donaldson.
Quickly, here's the list of the "Glory" houses and pumpers that followed: The John Miller was another steam engine. Miller also was a banker: also he was a fire chief. Other brasss-trimmed pumpers were the Joseph Ridgway, Jr., the Theodore Com stock, the Benjamin Blake. Those machines pumped water from wells, cisterns, wood plugs and Hoskins Pond to make hose nozzles scintillate.
The second (and final) "Glory" house was the Flowers. Dr. Flowers had an of fice at 84 E. Town Street, and lived in the Third Ward. The Flowers Engine Com pany protected life and property in Union Station, Short North and Goosetown areas.
The brick front of the building went up three stories: this loftiness was for haymows, and Flowers had two. The hay, of course, was for the horses that pulled the engine, the hook-and-ladder wagon and the hose cart. It was a day of foot rac ing, and Dennis Coffey trained in the front haymow for a challenge race to Fifth Avenue and return. No. That was in No.4.
The first steam pumpers, like the preceding hand pumps, were pulled (and pushed) through the streets by running men. Each clutched a rope or strap. Abner Buntline, in his retirement days, recalled that his handhold was on the left side of the pumper's frame.
Flowers had such an engine. Its heavy, squat boiler rolled on high wheels with iron spokes. Capt. Walter Sheldon sweated-out his apprentice days on that "monster." But along with more advanced fire engines, horses came in - with pro vender, currycombs and manure forks required.
The corner Evolution: The neighborhood had a different look since destruction of the North Market original building (by fire) and since old Flowers was sliced down to one story. Evans, the shoe man, became a chain, Evans & Schwartz.
Today, the Spruce-High corner is quite different, but from the sidewalk down, the cellar walls and foun dation of old Flowers remain.
ARCH SUPPORT: That southwest cor ner also had a sidewalk anchor for one of the "Arch City" arches. James Thurber, author, had the trainer of a baseball team describe that street-spanning era.
"Decided to call itself the Arch City," said the man in "You Could Look It Up," on account of a lot of iron arches with electric-light bulbs into 'em which stretched acrost High Street.
Swan Street Sutler: Another one-of-a-kind structure north of the train depot was the temporary war4ime (1863) Tod Bar racks, a 425-foot military parade ground beside East Swan Street. The parade ground was surrounded by a rectangle of wood buildings, mostly bar racks, and between buildings was a board fence 12 feet high.
Tod, named for an Ohio governor, was separate from the Columbus Barracks which later became Fort Hayes. The Tod entrance was on High Street. It had a sutler's store, a military band and a jail, in which was locked no famous person, not even Gen. John H. Morgan. Ohio Penitentiary got him.