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Post by David Sechrest on Nov 6, 2006 12:50:06 GMT -5
One of the earliest photos of Zaharako's that I've seen. This picture was taken from the 1924 CHS yearbook. The 1924 CHS yearbook was the very first to include pictures of local businesses. I know that the kid sitting closest to the camera is Pete Zaharako. There's no denying that, as anyone who knew Pete will recognize him. Since the 3 boys are all dressed alike, I'm assuming that one of them is also Louie, and the man behind the counter was their father (sorry, I don't know his name). Also, the man sitting at the counter with the kids is unidentified. Comparing this picture to those taken in later decades, you'll note that the ceiling is basically the same today as it was back then. It looks like that entryway that leads to the tables in the back is some sort of wrought iron work. The stools are different. It almost looks like there are windows in the back. Those two lighted areas look like windows to me, but it could be an optical illusion. Is it possible that there was no dishwashing area back then and the Greeks dining ran to the back of the building? (It makes sense to me that a wall separating the dishwashing area and the dining area might have been added later). The candy case on the left is all glass. That's different. Also, no cases on the left, up along the front.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2006 22:07:53 GMT -5
David,
Thanks, the pictures are great.
George
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Babs
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Post by Babs on Nov 7, 2006 10:17:55 GMT -5
GREAT PICTURES DAVID!!!!!
I don't have any special memories of Zaharakos at Christmas time but I just remember when I was young that this was the place to go. Whenever we went downtown, it was our habit to stop in "The Greeks" to check out who was there. We might go to a movie or shopping or whatever, but then it was back to The Greeks again to see who might've dropped in since we were last in there. It was a "gathering place" to meet up with everyone. Also before you left town to go home, we'd be sure and pop back in to make sure we hadn't missed any of our friends who might've come in late.
It's sad to me that downtown is not like it used to be and The Greeks is now closed (for good I've heard). I think those of us who grew up in Columbus and had the good fortune to have witnessed what living here and what "downtown" was like are truly very blessed. I know downtowns everywhere have deteriorated, thats just the nature of progress, but for those of us with such fond memories of living here it is still very sad.
Again David, thanks for the lovely pictures of Zaharakos at Christmas time! It was truly our own special Winter Wonder Land, wasn't it?
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Post by David Sechrest on Nov 7, 2006 15:42:16 GMT -5
On November 7th, Babs posted: Again David, thanks for the lovely pictures of Zaharakos at Christmas time! It was truly our own special Winter Wonder Land, wasn't it?
Babs, it sure was...
I wonder if Zaharako's plans on selling any of those decorations? Boy, I sure would like to have a couple!
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Post by David Sechrest on Nov 17, 2006 16:02:27 GMT -5
While doing some rummaging around the internet the other night, I happened across this poem. I've never heard of the person who wrote it, but it did touch me.
I hope that April doesn't mind me posting it here (I forgot to bookmark where I found it. I'll have to search and see if I can locate the web address):
Sittin and Reflectin Down At Zaharakos by April Lynne Wolfe-Scott
Sittin and reflectin down at Zaharakos; through the years that’s where we’d go. Where patrons came to quench a Green River sized-thirst or for a grilled cheesebr-ger to go in a white bag with chips. In the dining room dangled a secession of little feet from the special kid-sized parlor chairs’ coveted seats. The story goes that in 1900 three Greek brothers shared a dream to cross the sea. In Midwest America they discovered Columbus, an Athens, with many spires rising between Brown County hills and Hoosier cornfields. Lewie, James, and Pete opened an ice cream parlor which proudly bore their family name, on a downtown street named for their new country’s first president. In the parlor they inserted some European charm -- a Tiffany lamp, and a marble and onyx soda counter that had graced the St. Louis World’s Fair. Young men in long white aprons, smiles and crisp paper hats would quickly greet their customers dressed in turn-of-century finery. The brothers’ shoppe was a sure stop following a play round the corner at the Crump Theater. They sipped Coca-Cola that shared the menu with other calorie-filled delights. Sittin and reflectin down at Zaharakos; through the years that’s where we’d go. After school or after the game The brothers’ German pipe organ would play a cheerful tune and spinning stools would fill with blue and white fans seeking the grilled cheesebr-gers resembling no other. My Dad, still carrying shrapnel from the war, settled down with Mom in a log home on the county line to care for Grandpa Marion. Their trips to town to the A&P in a turquoise Mercury with wings were interspersed with stops at The Greeks for the brothers’ famous fountain drinks. Then Dad pinned on a badge, a policeman--like his Dad. He moved our family to a big white Queen Anne within the city limits. Dad and Mom had four little ones now in tow window shopping, down Washington Street they’d stop at Nagel’s Store for a newspaper in ’63 that headlined John-John’s brave salute to a president he called Daddy destined to be forever young. We had quarters to drop in the organ grinder’s cup, to eye his monkey jiggin’ at the end of a lease. There were strange x-rays boxes in which to insert our feet at Tovey’s Shoes on a stop for my black patent leather shoes. My brother and I would weigh in together on the big scales at Murphy’s Five & Ten where the best things like Barbie, jingle jumps, and super balls were kept in the basement. Nice days we’d skip a lot among the visitor’s camera shots of the bronzed creatures and flora of the Irwins’ Pompeii-inspired Fifth Street gardens. All this shopping and activity called for a refreshment break, at the little ice cream parlor. Once inside the door, were glossy postcards of City shots, a Zaharako or two, colorful candies in little bins, chocolate malts, as sweet as sin. ice cream, oreos and crackers, a coney dog for brother Roger, and a grilled cheesebr-ger, please, for me. Mom sat at the big-people table; with Dad at work her bags from Dianna’s Dress Shop occupied the other seat; We sat in the little parlor chairs until we grew so tall-- that when we tried to sit again our knees now met our chin. Sittin and reflectin down at Zaharakos; through the years that’s where we’d go. In middle school following ballgames at Pearl Street gym in pigtails and braces with two straws we’d share a malt with our puppy love. Holiday bound relatives from up Kokomo way would visit here each year and beg to see the festive décor the brothers’ shop bore. We wave to our friend Dave, he’s four feet tall of rockin’ music ambition, here with his family –regulars all. They’re chit-chatin’ with Ann Zaharako on our Indiana weather. And I passed down in succession while babysittin’ Rhonda my freckled two-foot niece, my little metal parlor seat. At sweet sixteen we girls rolled up out front in my tangerine GTO with the car radio blaring, Jim Croce’s “Time In A Bottle”. We put two nickels in the parking meter and ordered lunch to celebrate our first after-school jobs. There were quick looks in the giant mirror for anything remainin’ in our teeth and to refresh the smeared pot of gloss smellin’ fruity on our lips. It seems like just a week has passed when I pop in and tell Lew of future plans with one named Dan who had engaged my heart. Lew says with a grin, “I know him, he’s been my-- coney hold the sauce, since he was ten” Sittin’ and reflectin’ down at Zaharakos; through the years that’s where we’d go. Twenty-one years of our lives had reflected back at us from the ice cream parlor’s mirrored walls; by the end of the one big fight Dan and I ever had; and over what--we had forgot. After the fun of making up we sat down for lunch and told Lew to hold the mustard on our own little Jon-Jon’s hotdog. On our son’s sixth birthday it was here too, that his chipmunk-cheeks filled and turned abruptly pink when they met their match - a pack of green striped trick candles a flamin’ on his cake. A Cabbage Patch astronaut was in attendance at the party, and smiled transfixedly at the gift-wrapped he-man characters as each emerged from their foil and tissue paper cocoons. Sittin’ and reflectin’ down at Zaharakos; through the years that’s where we’d go. Downtown a week before his high school graduation Jon asked me, his Mom to lend a hand to find the perfect golden band to slip upon Dee’s ring finger. The little parlor’s glass front door looked out on a new century of futuristic technologies and ancient greed. Middle East woes were altering Midwest dreams aplenty. Our Jon informs us of his desire to be among the country’s finest. We with Dee and our future Marine, share hopes and worries, over our thousandth grilled cheesebr-ger. Long days are followed by longer anxious nights but God doesn’t blink and our Jon returns home all six-feet intact. He takes a job on the world-wide web to support his Dee and the next grilled cheesebr-ger patron to be. They choose to name their red-haired son, Audie Murphy for there was sure to have come down through family genes a patriotic attitude a pumpin’ in his veins. They would boast it was Sam Simmemaker’s Holy Cow that gave their kid that untamed lick above his left temple. One hundred years have come and gone, and a million feet or more have entered the little ice cream parlor since three Greek brothers shared their dream and famous cheesebr-ger recipe. Three-year old Audie checks out his little parlor seat for size; previously warmed by his genetic up line. He relishes the coney dogs and scoops of butter pecan ice cream. His parents joined us after shopping at the Commons Mall, one quick cell call was all it took. They laughed when Dan and I uttered in unison, “You’ll find us where we’re always at!” Sittin’ and reflectin’ down at Zaharakos; through the years that’s where we’d go. Little Audie’s Dad had held a job out of state just four short months; when Dan, I and destiny took a picturesque drive out West State Road 46; where a cooler breeze was blowing that caused the autumn leaves to wrinkle upon the ground; and our aging joints to ache. The state park’s deer herd was in search of food now much scarcer in supply and they wandered down the road’s white center line. Dan and I sung offbeat in our new SUV to the song, “The Dance” on radio station K-O-R-N. We missed the scared look frozen in our high beams of the poor animal’s eyes. Witnesses a mile east of Gnawbone Grocery were said to hear the screeching of our new brakes. The tragic scene was awash in whirling emergency lights even before Garth could finish his tune. Sittin’ and reflectin’ down at Zaharakos; through the years that’s where we’d go. The following spring a robin pecks at a stuck twig in the engraved sidewalk bricks outside the front door of the ice cream parlor. A breeze ushers our Jon and his family back to the maroon chairs in the mirrored dining hall once again. The pipe organ begins to play a very happy tune, --it knows. (Dan squeezes my hand), when we see little Audie sitting in his parlor chair, with his Easter eggs and treats from the annual Donner Park hunt scattered round the table top. He has a firm grip upon his grilled cheesebr-ger his tongue stuck out to catch each drip of the oozing cheese. He pipes up and says, “W hen my sister is born in September can we drive back to town, I promise she can have first pick of the little parlor chairs.” Dee wipes his little chin of Butter Pecan drip as well as a tear from her Big Marine’s cheek. When it’s time for them to leave our Jon kneels down to help his little guy with the zipper of his bright yellow Sponge Bob jacket, and spies him blow two kisses toward the reflections in the mirror. (Grandpa Dan and I touch our cheek, smile and blow one back. ) Jon said “Hey partner, those kisses flew way past my cheek” “ No, Dad, my kisses hit their mark! (We heard our Jon question) “Well, for who then were they intended, sport?” (We heard little Audie then set his Daddy straight) “Grandma and Grandpa, you know where they’re always at!” Dee overheard and took little Audie’s hand leading him to the door where he stopped to place his last marshmallow bunny in his big friend Lew Zaharako’s aging hand. Audie’s Dad stood up slowly and turned toward the large mirrored reflecting wall revealing a tear-streaked cheek and whispered under a quick wink, “We’ll be back soon with the new baby, and for so long as there is a Zaharako to open the front door and share their special recipe. Sittin’ and reflectin’ down at Zaharakos
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nancs
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Post by nancs on Dec 14, 2006 7:21:09 GMT -5
Alert, alert, be sure to read Harry McCawley's article in the Republic, December 14. 2006.Personally, I thought it was a beautiful 'opinion' about the Greeks, and how, since its closing, is sorely missed by many. Within is suggested to call Mr. McCawley to be in touch with others wishing to try and save the Greeks and the local tradition is has represented for so very long. Maybe someone else knows how to print the entire article here. It is one of the really good ones. Surely to keep 'The Greeks' should be a top priority on some list of things to do for Columbus. Nanc
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terrys
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Post by terrys on Dec 21, 2006 19:57:40 GMT -5
For years I went in there a lot. Parking was often tough which was one reason it lost its appeal after a while. Another was lack of time. However, at one time I would often go there to get lunch for us at work. Even when I called it in sometimes I would wait. I would figure out what each person owed while waiting. Ted got to where he would just ask me the total and not even do it himself because he knew I would be dead on After a while Ted was not able to be there near as often. Later, Lew and Ted's mom passed on. Longstays like some of the people whose name I didn't know, Susan, Ann, and others stopped working there it seemed. Many times toward the last year or two Lew seemed to be the last one staying on the sinking ship. They had to quit the candy business and Lew seemed to go downhill. Business was a pale shadow of what it once was, but Lew said he opened on Sundays and didn't spread the word because he couldn't handle all of the business if it were advertised. I talked with Lew quite a bit when I went in and he knew me by name from the time I had worked at Hooks. One of my last times in there I was reflective and for some reason had it in mind of the future and wondered who would carry on certain things after people were gone. It may have been due to the changing of Nelsons Bible Mart to Family Christian and then it closing its doors or maybe when he sold the organ I really don't know what got me in that mood. However, I asked Lew about when he was not doing it anymore would he sell it or what? He kind of gruffly replied it is not for sale. I knew I had hit a sore spot with him and that was the only time he ever acted like that to me. I was probably in a few more times. The last time I got a CheesBrger from there, it was pretty bad. It didn't taste at all like it used to. I think they may have already gone down a little at times, but that last one was hard to even eat. It may have been that there wasn't much sauce with it, or maybe just a bad day. Lew had always taken pride in doing them well, but I could tell that his health was declining for some time. He was hardly able to take care of things for quite a while before he passed away, yet he kept plugging on. As I felt when I asked Lew about the future of it, I hate to see it gone. Although I would hate for someone to buy it and not keep it up to the level it had been in better days, the truth is it had gone down for a while before then in spite of Lew's best efforts.
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RER
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Post by RER on Jan 29, 2007 17:13:44 GMT -5
Zaharako Brothers Early 1950s Picture From Log Bob
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RER
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Post by RER on Jan 29, 2007 18:07:36 GMT -5
Columbus High School Students At The "Greeks" During The Middle 1950s
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nancs
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Post by nancs on Jan 30, 2007 8:12:32 GMT -5
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nancs
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Post by nancs on Jan 30, 2007 18:40:05 GMT -5
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RER
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Post by RER on Jan 31, 2007 14:11:22 GMT -5
" Everything You Didn't Want To Know About The Word Gom "This form of the expression derives from the noun GOM (also GAM, GAUM, GAWM, GHOMEY, GOAMEY, GOMEY, GOMMOUGE, GORM) and more Gom here: (scroll down somewhat) wordwizard.com/ch_forum/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=19556Comment: Actually, I think I like Zaharakos' consumable definition of that 'Gobbled-E-Gook' on a bun. I sure am happy that Elvis Presley didn't know what Gom was because his hit song titled "I'm All Shook Up" may have been titled " I'M All Gom'd UP ". Can't wait until the Super Bowl Gom party here. We are going to serve our friends Gomwiches. Go Colts !!Bob
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RER
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Post by RER on Jan 31, 2007 15:36:21 GMT -5
" A Columbus Story About Gomwiches During The Early 1950s In Our Home "
Well, when both parents worked around 1954 or earlier, many times my brother and I would make El Cheapo Gom Sandwiches. We, always called this concoction GOM. Now, this may not sound good and truly today it wouldn't be that great.
In today's times we have to watch and not be political correct here, so I will try to creep around the politics of catsup/ketchup. There are several brand names of catsup such as Hunts, Heinz (the John connection without name) generic brands and others.
To continue this hopeless cooking event you have to have hamburger meat, salt, pepper and catsup of any brand. This horrible concoction is cooked in the black frying pan, with a dash of salt and then drowned in non-political correct catsup. Stir at low temperature and put on white bread. Buns were scarce in those 1950s days, so two slices of bread is just fine..
One summer day, I was almost complete with my concoction of Gom and my wonderful brother Jerry entered the house and said: "Bob what are you making ? " Of course I would have to respond Gomwiches and share the mixture. Now today sitting here thinking about those good old days, I wondered if he ever ate Gomwiches before the Bulldogs basketball games he played in for Coach Stearman. They had plenty of fat and protein and if he did, it didn't slow him down.
Now, if you try this concoction don't expect much, because its not that great. I am sure it wasn't anything near Zaharakos Gom quality. I guess you could say this was "a poor man's Gomwich." Actually, we both enjoyed them at the time and they were filling. Not much different than kids eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I guess. Oh, one last thing is you should eat with a glass of milk; that seems to settle the inner roaring.
Bob
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RER
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Post by RER on Jan 31, 2007 17:52:53 GMT -5
" Zaharakos Year 1924 "That Was 83 Years Ago Note: Taken From 1924 Log Bob
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RER
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Post by RER on Jan 31, 2007 22:18:08 GMT -5
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Gregg
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Post by Gregg on Feb 1, 2007 10:14:31 GMT -5
It would appear that the Greeks were way ahead of the curve when it came to subscribing to telephone service. Three-digit numbers. Too cool!
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RER
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Post by RER on Feb 11, 2007 12:10:01 GMT -5
Zaharakos Is In "The Library of Congress"This is classified in American Memories (Ice Cream)Go to this web site and scroll down (click on picture to enlarge when found): memory.loc.gov/ammem/today/jul23.htmlThe picture enlarged is beautiful. What an honor for that family to be listed in the Library of Congress. Bob
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Rhonda
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Post by Rhonda on Feb 13, 2007 0:09:00 GMT -5
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Rhonda
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Post by Rhonda on Feb 13, 2007 0:11:50 GMT -5
You can barely see the menu on the third to the last photo, along the right hand side, but it lists the "GOM" sandwich.
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RER
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Post by RER on Feb 13, 2007 18:08:28 GMT -5
Christmas At Zaharakos In 1958 Source: Log picture same year Bob
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