Goodbye to The Gardens

There was never a better place to watch hockey in Cincinnati. The Gardens was classic. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Highway signage for the Gardens as seen on the Norwood Lateral.

Utilitarian in design, it was cutting edge after World War Two. Although it lacked frills and modern amenities, the building made up for it with charm and history. Hockey and basketball may have been the mainstays, but the place was also a great building to take in monster trucks, roller derby, the circus, off-brand Arena Football, presidential campaigns, a band from England known as The Beatles, and so much more.

To me, it always had this oddly comforting scent of popcorn and stale beer. The only time it didn't was when I was there this week when most of the walls were gone, the outside air sweeping in around the wrecking ball. I didn't find myself becoming emotional at seeing it go, the sounds of the building's death were too loud and distracting. I felt fortunate that I had permission to be there, to have one last chance to see the place. I don't have as many memories as some, but I have a lot of recollections from the Gardens. I'm sure everyone in Cincinnati has at least one (those riding by in shuttle buses from nearby retirement homes during my last visit most certainly did). From the first time my parents took me to see the Shrine Circus to the last time I sipped a beer and watched roller derby, I enjoyed every moment of sitting in those wooden seats and now own one.

I've covered the former event palace on Seymour Ave. several times here at QC/D. I shot grainy black and white photos there as a college student, documented the set up and execution of a circus performance, lamented the building's lack of minor league hockey, put together stories about the Cincinnati Rollergirls, took in monster truck shows with good friends (one of whom has since passed away, that show being a treasured memory), and once climbed through the rafters to investigate "the press box that never was." This is the last story, at least the final one where I'll be able to visit the physical building.

I've given a more detailed attention to the Gardens' history in some of those past posts, so I'll let the photographs tell most of the story this time. As I wonder if the building could've survived, I find myself pondering the "what ifs:"

What if the NBA's Royals had never left?

What if the parent club in Anaheim hadn't pulled our minor league version of The Mighty Ducks?

What if the RailRaiders had taken the ice, unconcerned with season ticket deposits?

What if a few more people had come out to the occasional event and bought a ticket over the last few years?

Maybe it's best to not dwell on these theoretical questions too much, to not get bogged down in what it would've cost to update the place, who would've occupied it, and what moves throughout its nearly 70 year history would've saved it. The Gardens had a great life, filled with historical moments and personalities. While it lives on in memory, physical remains will be there too. The bas-relief sculptures by Cincinnati artist Henry Mottwere saved and the iconic signage was donated to the American Sign Museum in Camp Washington. The Greater Cincinnati Redevelopment Authority (formerly The Port Authority) has done some good work in Bond Hill and Cincinnati as a whole. Hopefully the land the Gardens once occupied will still be an asset to the city.

So this is it, a goodbye to the Gardens: the best damn arena Cincinnati ever had or ever will have.

A few notes:

The Port Authority sold ~1,100 seats from the arena before demolition began. It's my understanding no more are available and that the remaining seats will not be salvaged.

The talented folks at The Rivertown Inkery sell a font in the style of the building's iconic signage. It's worth every penny and available through their site.