Columbia’s Main Street’s a treat, but what about the burbs?

Salley McInerney’s wonderfully evocative column on Columbia’s Main Street in the 1950s left me of two minds: wistful nostalgia for the distant, yet vibrant past — of one vital, downtown area — and persistent melancholia for the present and future of outlying, urban venues, especially the one that abuts Forest Acres, in the ever-evolving era of the internet (“Theaters, department stores, lunch counters. A look at Main Street’s history,” Aug. 11).

In a column for the late, lamented Columbia Record three decades ago, I wrote of “the braised sweetbreads at the Ship Ahoy restaurant, the honeydew melon sherbet at the Wade Hampton Hotel coffee shop, the tarts (those with the heavy mascara and sad smiles) at Marmac Hotel, the double-feature “B” movies at the Strand, the flat suds at the Hawaiian Stage Door, the headache powders at all hours at Central Drugs and the two-day old Chicago Tribs at the Capitol Newstand.” I should have added snarky tribute to the culinary fare at the next-door Capitol Cafe, especially the ham and eggs swimming in re-useable, deep-fat grease at 5 a.m.

As my old colleague Salley correctly notes, Main Street started losing its commercial allure in the 1960s with the growth of the suburbs. Richland Mall opened in 1961. Initially, it thrived in an open, appealing format with a variety of shops, eating establishments and a movie theater. Later, a questionable decision was made to close in the mall. The theater was separated and expanded. For a while, business continued inside the mall at a brisk, diverse pace. Then, about the turn of the century, the mall started to lose its commercial bloom. Unrealistic plans and visions were ventured, embodying high-priced condos and consumer goods. Proprietors closed and went elsewhere. It is now virtually a ghost mall.

Richland Mall remains a premier go-to place for me when I’m in search of solitude or camaraderie. Whether on a casual stroll through Belk or partaking of a bagel and cafe au lait with one or more of the usual suspects in the Barnes & Noble coffee shop. As corny as it may seem, I still feel the poltergeists emerging from the vast, empty spaces and invading my being.

The Richland County Sheriff’s Department has its workout center in Richland Mall. A children’s theater is housed there. There is precious little else except the Belk and Barnes & Noble that anchor the place. But how sturdy are their moorings?

The demise of Richland Mall is not unique to Columbia. To lesser degrees, the same symptoms exist at other suburban malls. Like most Columbians, I derive pleasure over the growth of Main Street, the Vista, Five Points and other communities. The internet has had immense impact on spending patterns, but this is one stubborn old geezer hopeful the management skills and inventive brain power exist to accomplish economic turnaround at Richland Mall and elsewhere.

Mr. Krell is a retired associate editor at The State; contact him at kentkrell@aol.com.

This story was originally published September 17, 2017 at 6:29 PM with the headline "Columbia’s Main Street’s a treat, but what about the burbs?."