I am commonly asked what my favorite place so far has been, and the answer always shocks people. I fell in love with Sandusky, Ohio.
CLEVELAND
I pulled into downtown Cleveland around sunset on Saturday, tired from a long day behind the wheel. My hotel was right across the street from Progressive Field. A Guardians home game had been played that afternoon, so pockets of red and blue revelers still clustered around bars along the street.
I grabbed dinner in the Gateway District and asked around for a cool place to go for drinks. I was directed to the 16-Bit Bar+Arcade. I decided to walk the mile and a half, taking the massive Veterans Memorial Bridge over the Cuyahoga River.
The 16-Bit Bar+Arcade is nostalgia incarnate for an 80’s kid, but I was happy to see how many millennials and Gen-Zers were also soaking up the retro vibe.
There was a battery of pinball and arcade games. I, of course, played the 1990 Aliens horizontal scroller. There were fun cocktails with names like The Breakfast Club (Vodka, Irish Cream, Coffee, Chocolate, with a side of Potato Sticks) and the Hulk Hogan (Blueberry Vodka, Lemonade, Original Bomb Pop).
There was duckpin bowling downstairs and many, many pop culture references from the decades of my childhood. They were pandering to me, and oh daddy, did it work.
The next morning I walked around the Ohio City neighborhood and had an excellent brunch at Heart of Gold. I didn’t spend much time in Cleveland, but I had a great time. The reality didn’t match my preconceived notion that it was a miserable place.
It’s true that events in Cleveland’s recent history such as the Cuyahoga River fires, the 10-cent beer riot, and the chronically disappointing Browns, make it an easy punching bag. However, the origin of its national reputation is further west in Burbank, California in the writers’ room for Martin & Rowan’s Laugh-In.
Jack Hanrahan, one of the show’s writers and a native son of Cleveland, pitched his hometown as a stand-in for one-liner abuse when Polish jokes became passé. This show, which was appointment viewing in the late 60’s and early 70’s, colored the nation’s collective perception of the city for decades to come.
TOMMY BOY
If you say “Sandusky, Ohio” to someone under 50, there is a better than even chance that they respond with “Callahan Auto Parts” or “Tommy Boy”.
(photo credit TeePublic)
Tommy Boy has transcended cult classic to become a pillar of 90’s film comedies. For those who still have linear television, you will catch it playing on cable constantly. It is the consensus best film of Chris Farley, the rotund physical comedian known for his SNL skits such as Chippendales Audition, Matt Foley: Motivational Speaker, and Da Bears Fans. Tragically, like his predecessor John Belushi, he died at 33 of a drug overdose.
Callahan Auto Parts is the fictional company in Tommy Boy run by Big Tom Callahan (Brian Dennehy), and the largest employer in Sandusky. After Big Tom dies from a heart attack, the perpetual fuck-up Tommy Jr. (Farley) needs to take a road trip with the uptight Richard (David Spade) to save the company from being shut down by the slimy Zalinsky (Dan Aykroyd).
The film is so beloved that someone (bless them) created a real LinkedIn profile for the company and hundreds of people have put jobs there on their professional history.
Residents are proud of this association. A Tommy Boy mural graces the back wall of Everwild Spirits. Tom, one of the people I met there, is planning a gathering called Tommy Bash in August 2025 for its upcoming 30th Anniversary (similar to the Lebowski Fest).
One of the locals told me that the writer of Tommy Boy was from Sandusky and it’s based on a real person. As far as I can tell, that’s not true. It was written by a husband & wife team, Bonnie and Terry Turner. Bonnie is from nearby Toledo, Ohio. I was also told that Callahan Auto Parts is based on the local company Industrial Nut, but I can’t find any evidence to support this.
Residents are also a little embarrassed that (apart from Cedar Point) Tommy Boy is what Sandusky is best known for. None of it was shot in Sandusky - it was all shot in Canada. And nothing in it is specific to Sandusky. The city stands in for “generic Rust Belt small town.”
I had just rewatched Tommy Boy before starting this trip, so it was fresh in my mind. When I was scanning the map for a destination in Ohio, Sandusky caught my eye. So yeah, that’s how I ended up in Sandusky.
SANDUSKY
I took the scenic route from Cleveland, winding my way through the neighborhoods along Lake Erie, rather than take I-90. My Airbnb was a converted basement apartment in a gorgeous turn-of-the-century red brick house on Columbus Ave, four blocks from Sandusky Bay. Across the street was a giant former church that was available for events and as an Airbnb (it’s now for sale).
I arrived the day after Ohio Bike Week, which is one of the largest motorcycle events in the US. The stage on Jackson Street Pier, which had just hosted Bret Michaels and Ace Frehley, was being dismantled. I walked along the pier watching the boats bob gently at the docks.
I spotted a bar with a colorful mural on the wall. There were people sitting on an outside patio with their drinks and a food truck nearby. It looked like a nice spot for some refreshment, so I pulled up a seat inside The Paddle Bar.
(photo credit: The Paddle Bar)
The indoor space was somewhat narrow, an L-shaped bar at the far end. Behind the bar was the standard row of taps with rotating brews described on a chalkboard. Unique however, were the manual juicers for squeezing fruit for their signature cocktails. Well, that and their bathroom.
On the wall hung a rack of hooks. On each hook hung a glass mug. And on each mug were stickers. John, the bartender, explained that each year they sell the spots on the hooks, and they always go instantly. Along with the privilege of decorating their own mug and hanging it on the wall, members of this “club” receive a discount on each draught beer they order.
(photo credit The Helm Sandusky)
While I was talking with John, a regular sat down beside me and ordered a beer in his hanging mug. I asked him about one of his stickers that caught my eye. “Oh that?” he responded, “That’s my favorite bar…in Tokyo.” And that was how I met Andy.
In 2021, brothers Ryan & Chad Whaley started The Paddle Bar with the goal of creating the type of place they'd like to hang out in. It has become the main gathering point for a group of year-round residents informally known as “The Downtowners”. Over the course of that week I met a slew of people at The Paddle Bar - Andy, Jerry, John, Tom, Gio, Chad, Ryan, Alex, Kayleigh, and more. I wrote about Jerry and Andy in my Emotional State of Matt #9: FRIENDLY post, along with Beth and Jason who I was introduced to later.
(photo credit Jason Werling)
Everyone was enthusiastic about my trip, engaging, generous, and they introduced me to others. By the end of the week I felt like I’d met half of Sandusky, and The Paddle Bar was my Cheers.
When people recover from being told I love Sandusky, they always ask “Why?” There are a lot of reasons why I liked Sandusky: the public art, the gorgeous old limestone buildings that make up much of downtown, the access to Lake Erie, the walkability, the affordability. But what really made Sandusky stand out was the people.
(photo credit Jason Werling)
The downtowners have all, for the most part, lived elsewhere, done exciting shit, and decided to move to (or back to) Sandusky because it’s comfortable, it’s charming, and it has a great community. Nearly everywhere I go I meet people, like the bartender in Columbus, who live where they live because they were born there. They yearn to be somewhere else, but can never seem to break through their hometown inertia.
Everyone I met in Sandusky was there because they had chosen to be, and their enthusiasm for it shone through like a spotlight.
Sandusky is a small Rust Belt town along Lake Erie that has weathered a couple of rough decades, but has always been buoyed by tourism from the Cedar Point amusement park, “The Roller Coaster Capital of the World.” Despite hard times in its recent past, Sandusky is making a come-back. You can feel it.
You can see it in the new condos right on the bay. You can see it in the massive Sandusky State Theater restoration project which was featured on an episode of Restoration Road with Clint Harp. You can see it in the bars and restaurants that would be right at home in any city across the country. Last year, USA Today named Sandusky the Best Coastal Small Town in the country. Sandusky feels like a place that hasn’t been rediscovered yet.
Buzzing from making new friends at The Paddle Bar, I walked along the water and ended up having dinner at the small outside bar on the back side of Tony’s. It was an unofficial industry night. Workers from the local bars and restaurants were out, exhausted from Ohio Bike Week, letting off some steam.
The next day was a busy work day, but I managed to get outside for a walk in the afternoon. I stopped by The Merry-Go-Round Museum, but it was closed on Monday.
I walked along Washington Street and found a wonderful display of plantings that included a hedge lighthouse and a massive clock with spaces for the date to be changed out every day.
Dead center in front of the courthouse was a curious fountain featuring a statue of a small boy holding up a leaky boot. This statue has a lot of local lore, much of it up for debate or flat out untrue. Sources do agree that it was put there in 1895 by Voltaire Scott, a German immigrant who owned the hotel across the street, to pretty-up the park his rooms looked out onto.
The statue, which was called “Unfortunate Boot” was purchased from J. W. Fiske & Co, iron casters in New York. The boy survived a tornado in 1924 and decades of shifting public opinion, only to be murdered by vandals in 1991. the city replaced it with a bronze replica, restoring the original and putting it on display inside a bullet proof case in City Hall. “The Boy With the Boot” sits on the National Registry of Historic Places and has become the unofficial mascot of Sandusky.
My walk took me back down by the water. I spotted John, the bartender from The Paddle Bar, taking trash out to the curb. I yelled to him and walked over. John was busy setting up for his shift at Volstead Bar, a cozy speakeasy inside a nondescript building labeled Green Door Mediaworks.
John expertly mixed me a sazerac and we talked about the history of the building. It was built in the 1800s by a winery as lodging for their workers. Later, and for a long time, the building housed the Green Door Brothel. Its madame, their menu explains, generously supported local charities with profits from her successful business.
(photo credit Volstead Bar)
I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the Volstead Bar was another creation of Ryan Whaley, one of the owners of The Paddle Bar. One of my favorite touches were the little plastic army men stuck in nooks in the walls and sitting on shelves and window sills. As a fan of Ted Lasso, little plastic army men make me smile.
That night Andy took me out to dinner at the fantastic Crush Wine Bar. He invited me to tour “Weber House” the following day. Weber House is a stately 13,000 square foot limestone house on Wayne St, built in the 1800’s. A separate building at the back of the property is home to a community theater called Harlequins Coach House Theater.
He walked me through three floors and dozens of rooms explaining how it had most recently been a law firm's office. We discussed possible uses for the space that could benefit the community or attract business to it. He invited me to work there during the week, and I took him up on it.
That evening, I had dinner at Small City Taphouse, which shares space with CLAG Brewing. Unexpected for a taphouse, the menu was incredible asian fusion.
(photo credit Ohio Craft Brewers Association)
Owner Kha Bui, an immigrant from Vietnam, established the Small City Tap Room first, developing a strong reputation with craft beer enthusiasts. In 2020, he expanded into the space next door and added CLAG Brewing.
CLAG quickly became a renowned local brand, and in 2022 was recognized as the best brewery in Ohio by Brewery Stars. Kha became a US citizen this year in April. I didn’t get to meet him on this trip, but I got an indication of his great sense of humor by talking to people and looking at his beer names. CLAG stands for Cocky Little Asian Guy.
I walked around Sandusky to work off dinner. The fireflies were out in force. Fireflies are another thing I missed after moving to the West Coast. Neither LA or Portland has them. I’ve decided that if I ever write a memoir I will title it after two things from my childhood I’m most nostalgic for: Thunderstorms and Lightning Bugs
(photo credit Christopher Sherman Photography)
I found myself getting a little confused walking around the neighborhood. The number of strangely angled intersections seemed totally unnecessary and frankly a little dangerous. In some spots, right-of-way rules were not entirely clear.
Downtown Sandusky follows a standard grid that runs parallel and perpendicular to the pier, but Huron and Central Avenues cut across this grid at sharp angles. When surveying the land for Sandusky in 1818, Hector Kilbourne, the Master of Science at Freemason Lodge No. 50, designed the layout of the streets to resemble the masonic square and compass.
The following day, walking past the courthouse on my way to get coffee, I noticed a large sculpture that seemed to levitate fifteen feet above the ground. The sculpture was of a woman holding a discus, and it was balanced on a thin cable. Once I saw this one, I kept finding more of them around the city.
There were 21 in all, mostly depicting athletes, part of a public art program called the Outdoor Sculpture Exhibition. The sculptures themselves were on loan from Polish artist Jerzy Kedziora.
Another attention-grabbing sculpture, The Path to Freedom, is a permanent installation honoring Sandusky’s role in the Underground Railroad. It depicts a family made of coiled chains crossing over into freedom, where they become fully realized.
Sandusky was the terminus of one of the lines on the Underground Railroad, and the gateway for many escaping enslaved people into Canada. In Harriet Beecher Stowe’s landmark novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin, the character Eliza makes her way to Sandusky where she boards a boat across Lake Erie to freedom.
"It was a superb day. The blue waves of Lake Erie danced, rippling and sparkling, in the sun-light. A fresh breeze blew from the shore, and the lordly boat ploughed her way right gallantly onward."
Stowe’s cousin Lucas Beecher lived in Sandusky at 215 W. Washington Row, in what is now known as the Beecher House in the National Register of Historic Places. As an attorney, he represented Ben Johnson, helping Ben win his freedom. As a citizen, he made his home a safe house for runaways. These and many other connections can be found on the Sandusky Underground Railroad Walking Tour.
(photo credit Sandusky History)
PRESS
That afternoon, I had a meeting with Kambell Fleck at the Sandusky Register. Andy had reached out to a friend at the paper and told them about my 50 states trip. They wanted to interview me for a story.
I checked in at the front desk. The receptionist hadn’t heard of Kambell, but she asked me to take a seat while she asked around. Several other people came by and spoke with her. All of them were equally confused. Finally a young woman came out and introduced herself as Kambell. No one knew who she was because it was the first day of her internship.
(photo credit Wikimedia Commons)
The interview was short and sweet, then she grabbed her colleague and they asked me to come outside for a photo. I hadn’t been expecting this, so I wasn’t wearing anything nice, but I went along. The following week, when the story came out, I was stunned to see my silly mug on the front page. I think Kambell and her photographer did a great job with the article.
That evening, I got an email from Beth Werling, the editor at the local online publication The Helm. Tom, who I’d met at The Paddle Bar, had reached out to her and told her about my journey and blog. I answered several questions for her via email and agreed to meet her for a photo shoot the following afternoon.
(photo credit Jason Werling)
I met Beth and her husband Jason at Miami Park, across the street from Cameo Pizza, a local staple. There was a colorful map of the US painted on one of the basketball courts and Jason wanted to incorporate it into the photo shoot. I love the photos he took. I sent them to friends and family. I used one as my new Instagram profile pic. The article turned out fantastically as well.
(photo credit Jason Werling)
After the shoot, Beth and Jason invited me to the first Happy Thursday Bike Ride of the year. I declined because my bike had a flat, but they offered to loan me another one.
A couple hundred people of all ages met up at Washington Park in the late afternoon. For the next hour and a half we rode along a route that had been selected for that week. Kippie, one of the organizers, played good vibe tunes from a portable speaker he was towing. Every time we rode past someone we would say “Happy Thursday!”
We wound our way through neighborhoods, past a graveyard, and down along the water.
The ride ended at sunset back downtown at Jackson Pier. Everyone broke off, grabbed a sweet treat at the Frozen Tiki ice cream stand or made their way to OH Taco for a beer. It sounds hokey but riding around in the sun saying “Happy Thursday” to strangers made my heart full.
PUT-IN-BAY
Sandusky and nearby Port Clinton are the hopping off points to the Lake Erie Islands. The two favorite destinations are Kelleys Island and Put-in-Bay on South Bass Island. Kelleys Island, I was told, was a low-key spot, whereas Put-in-Bay had a bit of a party reputation. So, of course, I took the ferry to Put-in-Bay.
I drove to Port Clinton and took the morning ferry across the choppy water. I tried to get a little work done on my computer. I’m not prone to motion sickness, but after 20 minutes of sitting backwards on a bouncing boat focusing on a small screen, I wanted to puke. I took deep breaths and looked straight ahead the rest of the way.
Once on the island, I rented the island's preferred mode of transportation - a golf cart. The rental counter was covered with large sluggish winged insects. I’d never seen them before, but they seemed benign enough.
My first stop was The Forge for breakfast and some work calls. Once I was done with my calls I drove around, admiring the houses, and exploring. I stopped outside a massive tower that stood out from everything else.
This was Perry’s Victory and International Peace Memorial - a 352-foot Doric column (that’s .4 New River Gorge Bridges for anyone keeping score) erected to honor those who fought in 1813's Battle of Lake Erie during The War of 1812...yes, I know. It also celebrates the long-lasting peace between the US, Great Britain, and Canada.
The 360-degree views from the memorial were spectacular, and gave me a better understanding of the island’s layout. At the base of the memorial, a couple people in period dress were giving a demonstration, loading and firing muskets.
I cruised around in my cart for a while longer, exploring the island without incident. I was seeing even more of the bugs that I’d seen at the rental counter. I returned the cart, ate a late lunch, and caught the ferry back to the mainland.
I packed up the Airbnb to prepare for my departure, and headed back down to The Paddle Bar to say goodbye to whoever I could find there. The insects were reaching biblical levels. They were everywhere, swarming around street lights, congregating on street signs. I stopped at The Walking Taco food truck for dinner and they were all over every outer surface. It was gross, but nobody seemed to be paying them any mind, so I didn’t let them bother me.
This was the annual infestation of mayflies. I’d heard of mayflies as a kid - the insects that only live for one day. In truth, Mayflies actually live for a year or more as aquatic nymphs before developing wings and emerging for 24 hours sometime in May or June to mate and die.
Mayflies are actually considered a good sign and used as a bellwether for water quality since the nymphs can’t survive in polluted water. They’re not harmful to people, but their bodies have been known to pile up to such a degree that they can give off a vaguely fishy smell or even create slick driving conditions.
CEDAR POINT
Two of my least favorite things are kids wired on sugar and lines. Waiting in line with a bunch of kids wired on sugar is my own personal hell. For this reason I have never been to Disneyland and I hadn’t been to an amusement park in 20 years. But I couldn’t visit Sandusky without stopping by Cedar Point, so I got there early Saturday morning to beat the crowds.
Cedar Point is the second oldest amusement park in North America and is the destination for roller coaster aficionados - they have 18. I used to love roller coasters, but I am no longer in my teens or twenties. My body knows it, but sometimes my mind forgets. In an uncharacteristic moment of prudence, I’d asked the Paddle Bar crew for recommendations. I wanted a good thrill, but not something so violent that it threw my back out and gave me issues for weeks.
Gatekeeper was the consensus choice, so I made my way to it straight away - thankfully, it was right near the front. It's tracks, in fact, ran right over the entrance, creating the image of an arched gate.
Gatekeeper tops out at 67 miles per hour. It starts by taking riders through the world’s highest inversion at 170 feet. Then, over the course of a minute and a half, it flies through two keyholes above the park’s front gate, executes three freefalls, eight loopty loops, six corkscrews, twelve ohmygods, five pleaseiwanttolives, and culminates with one giant ohnoithinkishitmyself. Good times, good times.
As I stumbled away after the ride, my ears buzzing with adrenaline, I stopped at the photo kiosk to see how terrified I looked in the picture they took of me. As it turned out, I was too tall for my face to be visible, which was probably for the best.
Next ride was the Cedar Downs Racing Derby. My new friend Jerry was an engineer and had worked in the park for years. One night at The Paddle Bar, he had described the ancient mechanics that ran the guts of this thing, so I had to see it for myself.
The Racing Derby is what you would get if you took a merry-go-round, removed the poles, eschewed any safety equipment, then turned it up to fifteen miles per hour. It’s meant to evoke horse racing, but even jockeys get helmets.
I walked around to see if I could fit in another coaster before the crowds got too big, but all of them were posting one-hour plus wait times. I was ready to throw in the towel and was making my way to the exit when I saw the ferris wheel. It had a nice short line and I thought it would provide a nice vantage point for pictures.
The line moved at a glacial pace. It took me thirty minutes to get to the front. I am not sure why I didn’t just leave, but you know how it is - you’ve waited twenty minutes already and you're not going to give up now, dammit.
The woman letting people on was doing complex calculations, balancing out the weight of the wheel. This car needed three people, this one four. When I stepped up she told me that they didn’t allow people to ride solo. She proposed that maybe I could team up with another party of two.
She fobbed me off on a middle-aged couple who were too polite to say no. We clambered into our gondola - them seated together, me across from them. We tried some casual pleasantries, but they didn’t lead anywhere. They didn’t want me there and I didn’t want them. An exceptionally awkward five minutes followed. I did get a nice picture though.
I beelined for the gate and got out while the getting was good. The air was starting to crackle with manic energy as the first cotton candy blast was hitting hundreds of partially formed prefrontal cortices all at once.
The week had been a shocking success. “I truly enjoyed Ohio,” I mused, “what does that say about me as a person?” More than that, I wanted to stay - or at least come back again soon. Sandusky hasn't seen the last of me - who’d a thunk it?
For the time being I was, like Willie Nelson says, on the road again. My destination this time was somewhere I never imagined I would go: the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
Yes, and…
Matt
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