Discovering Ohio State, my neighbor of 2 decades

In early September 2023, I took my 14-year-old daughter, Mala, to her first Ohio State football game. While the Buckeyes were a little shaky on the field at first, the rest of the experience was perfect—glorious weather, enthusiastic tailgaters, The Best Damn Band in the Land closing its halftime show with a historic quadruple Script Ohio.

Mala and I decided to walk home after the Buckeyes’ 35-7 victory over Youngstown State. We can do that because we live in the University District. We made our way through the throng on Lane Avenue, passed the packed bars of High Street, and then cut through the quieter streets of Old North Columbus, where we stumbled upon a student yard sale. It was quite a find. The students were selling vintage clothes, classic vinyl, even some musical instruments, and Mala had a ball looking through their stuff and talking with the helpful young people.

After Mala bought a gray hoodie, we returned to our walk home, and two thoughts flashed in my mind. I felt grateful that I lived in the University District, my home for more than two decades, a place of remarkable energy, diversity and culture. But I also felt disappointment—not in the neighborhood or Ohio State or anything that happened on the football field, mind you. I was disappointed in myself. It took me too long to bring Mala to her first Buckeyes game, because it took me too long to fully realize all that the University District offers.

In 2002, my wife, Carrie, and I bought our home in Glen Echo, a peaceful pocket neighborhood on the northeastern edge of the University District. We weren’t thinking long term when we made this decision—our first residential purchase together, a year after moving to Columbus for work. We just liked the three-bedroom Craftsman, with its welcoming front porch and spacious living room, and we found the neighborhood charming, with its adjoining ravine park and fascinating mix of residents made possible by Ohio State’s proximity. But as our family expanded—son Adam in 2006, then Mala three years later—we realized we needed more space. Rather than move, we decided to renovate, adding a bathroom and redoing the kitchen. Our starter home had become our forever one.

Glen Echo is a bit removed from the boisterous heart of the University District, and many of our neighbors identify more closely with Clintonville, the quieter community just to the north. In fact, about 20 years ago, a group of Glen Echo residents tried to persuade city officials to reclassify our area as part of Clintonville. I didn’t participate in this unsuccessful secession effort, but I acknowledge I have often felt more closely tied to those on the northern side of the Glen Echo ravine, the border between Clintonville and the University District. Clintonville is cozy, comfortable and easy to enjoy—in other words, much different from the rambunctious University District. While Clintonville became a day-to-day part of my life—shopping trips, coffee runs, school drop-offs, exercising on the Olentangy trail—I tended to keep the University District in the distance, like the Ohio Stadium roar I could hear from my backyard on game days.

But that began to change after my 2023 epiphany. Slowly, my family and I inched closer to the University District. We went to more classic movie screenings at the Gateway Film Center. On Father’s Day, we visited Used Kids Records for the first time in years. Then in July, I took a job as the editor of this publication and so spend even more time on the south side of Hudson Street. Once or twice a week, I catch an Ohio State bus to the University Square North office building, where I frequently work on campus. This free shuttle is a remarkable reflection of the University District: often crowded, with riders spilling into the center aisle, but also an inspiringly diverse surge of youthful humanity you rarely see in Columbus (or anywhere else) outside of campus.

In early October, I decided to learn more about another unique Ohio State tradition. With Carrie visiting family in Milwaukee and Adam away at college, I convinced Mala to go with me to St. John Arena for a Skull Session before the Iowa game. We’d never been to one of these rallies before, and we really didn’t know what to expect. But we ended up having a great time listening to the band play “Buckeye Battle Cry,” “Hang on Sloopy” and other TBDBITL classics, and we cheered along with the scarlet and gray faithful as right tackle Josh Fryar, head coach Ryan Day and offensive coordinator Chip Kelly energized the crowd with rousing speeches.

Walking home through the neighborhood afterward, I thought of other University District activities for us to do: exhibitions at the Wexner Center for the Arts, the College of Music’s year-end concert at Mershon Auditorium, watching Ohio State’s championship-level teams that don’t play on fall Saturdays. Mala, meanwhile, reminisced about the student yard sale we visited the year before. If she had brought more money on that day, she told me, she would have bought all the clothes these University District neighbors of ours were selling. “They were cool people,” she said.

I couldn’t agree more. And I’m thankful we live near them.