While other stories might say something cold and clinical like, "A local landmark was torn down today. The building had fallen into disrepair over the years and required extensive repair. The site will now be home to a new Dollar General building," I won't be reporting it like that.

I might start a bit more gently and say, Monday was the beginning of another week and the end of an era. By the end of the week, there will be nothing left to remind us of the fond memories shared at a place we called "218."

For many of us when you say, "I used to go to 218..." we knew that meant the restaurant, not the highway. I imagine for a lot of us if you were like me, the beginning of that sentence was followed by, "...with my grandpa."

Then you remembered something else. The tootsie rolls. Now for the youngsters reading this, that does NOT mean the itty bitty ones that you get at the parades now. I mean the big ol' ones. No, not the 3 notch kind that you get at Halloween. I mean the BIG tootsie rolls. The kind that had probably 5 notches of chocolate (I think there were more notches of chocolate than that, but not wanting to walk a mile uphill both ways to school when I was a kid...)

Now Grandpa would often take me to 218, order a cup of coffee and a piece of pie. I have no idea why, because there was always coffee at home and I'm sure some kind of dessert. I don't remember if my sister was along on these trips either. I simply remember going with grandpa to "get coffee." I'm sure I ordered something too, but I couldn't tell you what it was. But I remember that grandpa ordered his coffee and pie.

I remember the smell of Grandpa's coffee and cigarette smoke. I remember him eating pie and laughing and talking and visiting with just about everyone in the cafe. But I remember waiting until we could leave. That meant that I would get that tootsie roll at the door. (I think it was an incentive to behave while you were there, but I might be wrong.)

There are those that are "new" to Vinton and viewed 218 with different eyes than mine I'm sure. Most saw it now as a bit of an eyesore. A run-down old building. A place that needed to be torn down. But something happens when you get old and nostalgia sets in. You see the building and the memories. The repairs that needed done fade to the background when you see the place. The memories somehow come to the front and make you smile at the run-down place.

As the teardown took place, I noticed a lot of white-haired residents drive-by, hit the brakes, turn around and drive by again. I am sure they all had their 218 stories.

We don't see the weeds growing through the pavement or the sagging additions on the outside of the building. We see through the darkened window a grandpa with his granddaughter across the table. You see him laughing and sipping his coffee. You see the kind gentleman at the door with black hair smiling as he prepares to hand you a tootsie roll.

You fast forward through your memories and see another grandpa memory that happened about 15 years after those first memories, with a different grandpa sitting across the table. You remember telling him that he's going to be a great grandpa for the first time. You remember the grin that you swear will split his face. You remember that his order was also coffee and pie.

As I watched 218 being torn down, and hear that a new Dollar General will take its place, I am a little bit sad. No, I'm really sad. I'm sad not because the building is being torn down, but sad because another place in my history and so many others' history is now gone.

Yes, it's just a building. I get it. Memories aren't buildings. They are just reminders of those memories. So while some of us cheer to see that it's gone, some of us have mixed feelings. Yes, we understand it was an eyesore. But understand when we say we hate to see it go, we mean we hate to see the reminder of those memories go.

Farewell 218, you were good to us.

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RB August 30, 2021, 9:35 pm Very well written. Had fond memories there myself. Loved being with the coffee crew most mornings.
DC August 30, 2021, 10:01 pm Will never forget Jack and Maxine talking with the customers.....

Wonder if they'll find some lead in the ceiling from the time the shotgun was fired in there when it's torn down.
VEM August 31, 2021, 12:20 am Grew up with the family being nearby. Great family and wonderful people.
BT August 31, 2021, 1:25 am Wonderfully written. Was wondering since I am not from this area; if, anyone has photos that can be posted of what it looked like back in the day?
DH August 31, 2021, 4:35 am My folks took my brother and me there many times.
My girls and I had our last mommy daughter lunch meeting there.
Great food, good people.
Yes, it's sad, but it sure made great memories come flooding back.
SE August 31, 2021, 7:35 am Thanks for printing an article that so many agree with. Yes, it needed to come down but only because it was neglected for so many years instead of being repaired and utilized. Like so many buildings that are usable; society no longer want the history or character of a building. I wish the new store well, as I hang on to the fond memories of what the previous business gave me.
JT( August 31, 2021, 9:47 am I worked for Maxine and Jack waitressing. The night shift. What a memory! Always took home a fresh cinnamon roll for my dad for breakfast. Maxine was a one of a kind!!
RB August 31, 2021, 2:08 pm I'll bet Jack & Maxine (probably Maxine) are having a thing or two to say about the tear down. I enjoyed many times with friends, my mom and grandma, after dad died, going there for lunch. Or just because to have coffee and pie. The best part,was a great greeting hello and goodbye from the waitresses or the owners. Memories.
NB August 31, 2021, 7:30 pm Maxine ALWAYS came to our table when we ate there and talked to our kids. She especially gave our Down's Syndrome Kevin attention which made us feel good! She was quick to get a high chair and oh yes the tootsie rolls!
LD September 1, 2021, 10:47 am Always open 24/7 late at night you could get the custodian to pick up two packs of cigarettes spread apart on the floor as he done a cartwheel and had both of them in his hands when he landed Good Times I think his name was Phillips can't think of his first name good bowler
TP September 1, 2021, 1:39 pm Larry Dake: Chuck Phillis, son of Fred Phillis is probably who you're talking about. They lived on the S.E. corner of 2nd Avenue and 8th Street.