Niles, Ohio is my hometown. At least that’s the response I give when asked the question. Technically, it’s not the place where I was born, although I often state, even officially, that it is. As noted elsewhere, I was actually born in my grandparents’ house in Mineral Ridge, when my own parents were living above a hardware store on North Cedar Street in Niles. For most people, their hometown is the foundation for their lives, often the place of their favorite memories. While this might be the site of my own foundation, it is not the focus of my favorite recollections.
Although I have alluded to several particular sites in Niles, perhaps an overall compilation would be useful, even if the locations are few. The central building found downtown is the McKinley Memorial with its library and auditorium. I spent many hours in the library while I was a student in the nearby Niles McKinley High School. The baccalaureate services for my graduation from Niles McKinley, along with other citywide assemblies, were held in this auditorium. The second floor, above the library, housed a memorial collection for William McKinley, twenty-fifth President of the United States, who was born in Niles in 1843. However, he spent much of his life in Canton, Ohio, where he was buried following his assassination in 1901.
Other than the memorial building, itself, not much about McKinley’s life and political career were evident in his hometown. His name was incorporated in the designation of other structures, e.g., the McKinley Theater, which showed second-level movies, and the McKinley Grill, next to the Robbins Theater, that served as a local hangout for teenagers. There was also the McKinley Savings and Loan, of which my cousin Fremont was later the CEO. A suburban division of Niles was McKinley Heights, where my mother worked in the local mall, built when I was in highschool.
The tallest structure downtown was the seven-story Niles Bank Building. I never went above the first-floor lobby where the tellers were located. Nearby, between the Niles Bank and the McKinley Memorial were the Post Office and the Fire Station. A block away was the Police Station. Several churches, including St. Stephen’s Roman Catholic Church, were commingled with other surrounding commercial buildings. The only other business building was for the Niles Daily Times, owned and managed by the Wick Family. The local department store, a few drug stores and furniture establishments were part of the downtown collection of businesses along Main Street and its primary crossings, State Street and Park Avenue. I do not remember there being a single restaurant among them. Other than the McKinley Grill, the only place to eat downtown was at the Niles Luncheonette and the Dairy Queen.
There may have been one or two disreputable bars on the outskirts of the downtown area, but I was too young to know much about them. The only comparable place I occasionally visited was the local newsstand/magazine shop which had its backroom I could not enter. I had to be satisfied with the covers on the open stands in the front of the store. I was led to believe the material in the backroom was for “adults-only.” I also understood this was, also, the place for “playing-the-numbers.”
Long before stateside lotteries or nationwide Power Balls were known, my father would choose three numbers he hoped would be called so he could win five or ten dollars, based on a twenty-five or fifty-cent bet. Almost all of my adult relatives played-the-numbers. My maternal grandmother used her dreams to determine, in some mysterious fashion, which three numbers she should play. Occasionally, the pot would grow, as a result of winless rounds, to be almost one-hundred dollars. I never knew anyone who won that much.
The southern end of Main Street was marked by the Viaduct which passed over the Mahoning River not far from its juncture with Mosquito Creek. The pavement consisted of red bricks which rumbled as cars passed over them. Their sound always assured me, when I was being driven home in the evening from relatives living in Mineral Ridge, that we were, indeed, back in Niles, and only a few minutes from our house. Under the Viaduct was the Train Station, which I seldom saw, except when Uncle Joe went off to war. I never had a reason to use the railroad system out of Niles. The Greyhound Bus Terminal was near by and more frequently used. On the north end of Main Street, on the way to Warren, was the General Electric factory where my Aunt Mary worked, making light bulbs.
The Central Park, on the outskirts of downtown and not truly “central,” was the only remaining feature of downtown Niles. The park had a pool and fountain, usually without any water unless there had been a rainstorm. There was seldom anyone in the park. This was a time long before the day of homeless sleepers and to-be-feared wanderers. Nevertheless, I usually walked rapidly under the trees as I ventured from my house into the downtown section of Niles.
Today, almost all of the buildings downtown are empty and boarded up. I would be more reluctant to walk on Main Street late at night now, than in the 1950s. Niles is truly in the nation’s “rust-belt.” Its current claim-to-fame, if there is any, is being the home of Congressman Tim Ryan, who has been a candidate for the U.S. Presidency. Niles is the birthplace of Number 25; it is unlikely to be the birthplace for Number 47.