M Osteria & Bar on Monroe street will offer an Italian bistro on the first floor and a lounge upstairs. Toledo Free Press photo by Christie Materni
Toledoans have been ordering Pat Giammarco’s food into their own homes for more than 30 years.
M Osteria & Bar on Monroe street will offer an Italian bistro on the first floor and a lounge upstairs. Toledo Free Press photo by Christie Materni
Starting Feb. 23, they’ll be able to eat his food in his Downtown establishment, as M Osteria & Bar opens its doors at 611 Monroe St.
Pasquale “Pat” Giammarco, who founded Marco’s Pizza in Toledo in 1978, bought the 135-year-old building about three years ago and has slowly been renovating it since.
Last year, he started talking with Robert Croak — a staple in the Toledo bar and restaurant scene for 25 years — and hired him as M Osteria’s director of operations, in charge of branding, entertainment and overall concept.
“Osteria” is an Italian term that is loosely defined as a smaller restaurant with an emphasis on its short menu and fine wines.
“To us, it means a hangout,” Croak said. “A cool, smaller place where friends and family can hang out and eat. That’s really it.”
M Osteria will be an Italian bistro on the first floor, with a lounge space upstairs often featuring a DJ.
M Osteria & Bar is slated to open Feb. 23. Toledo Free Press photo by Joel Sensenig
“It will be for the little more high-end crowd where they can bring their date and have a nice night,” Croak said of the lounge. “A place you can get a table and enjoy some really nice wines and craft beers, and just really have a great experience and night out.
“Toledo is primarily sports bars right now and the lounge atmosphere has gone away for quite some time, so we’re just trying to bring something back to give people who want to dress up a place to go on a weekend night where they can just feel good about themselves and really go out and have a good time.”
Downstairs, the main emphasis will be on the kitchen. Toledoan Justin Thomas will be the head chef, with a culinary team that will include its own baker and pasta maker.
“The food is the most important part,” Croak said. “A lot of people build nice places but they don’t focus on really high-quality food. For us, it’s about high-quality ingredients and just doing really great stuff.
“Obviously with Pat’s history in pizza in the city of Toledo, we have someone with 30 years of experience making great pizza. We’re focusing on pizza but also a lot of great Italian items. People should plan to see homemade breads, homemade pastas, homemade arancini and just a lot of really great items that there will be a lot of care put into.”
M Osteria & Bar’s menu includes soups and salads, antipasti, paninis, burgers, artisan pizzas, entrees, pastas and sides. Appetizers range in price from $5 to $16, sandwiches in the $9-$12 range, pizzas (available hand-tossed or thin) $12-$16 and entrees $15-$25. Sides are all $6.
Pizza toppings include: Old World pepperoni, chicken, arugula, prosciutto, garlic spinach, roasted peppers, baby artichokes, roasted garlic, Italian sausage, roasted wild mushrooms, roasted tomatoes and lamb meatballs.
The business is located on the northern edge of Downtown’s Warehouse District, on Monroe Street between Erie and Huron streets. Across the street from Table Forty4, it sits in the middle of the block bookended by The Blarney Irish Pub and the upcoming Black Cloister Brewing Company, set to open in March.
“We think the location is fantastic. Obviously this corridor is doing great and we feel that we add something a little different to the area. For us, it’s great to be able to play off the other [businesses], while still not competing with them necessarily. For us, it’s just a really nice fit in the neighborhood, and we’ve been really well received.”
The business will employ about 30 individuals, with the hiring process still ongoing.
Hours will be 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Thursday, 11 a.m. to 2:30 a.m. Friday, Saturday and special-event nights and closed Sundays.
A Feb. 15 Blade Column naming Woodville the “Worst Little Town in Ohio” has upset many residents of the Northwest Ohio village. Photo via Facebook
Fifty years ago, on a cold day like ones we’ve had recently, my grandpa would have bundled up in several layers of heavy work gear for his shift at Woodville’s lime plant. My mom, his youngest daughter, said it made him look like a teddy bear.
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By the time my mom was born, Grandpa had already been on the job almost 30 years, having dropped out of school after eighth grade to work at the plant, where he was later promoted to foreman.
My parents were part of the first graduating class from Woodmore High School, my dad from Elmore, my mom from Woodville, thrown together their senior year when the two villages consolidated into one high school.
I, of course, came along years after all this. By that time, Grandpa was retired. Grandma, too, from working full-time at the family insurance business in Woodville, but was still heavily involved in the community as a Girl Scout leader, which she did for 60 years.
I never lived in Woodville, but for years we visited my grandparents there almost daily and my memories of the town are fond ones.
Riding the Scrambler at the Fourth of July fair and watching fireworks from the backyard, where we staged watermelon seed-spitting contests.
Ordering pizza from Beck’s.
Eating ice cream cones at Faye’s Whippy Dip after T-ball games.
The warm glow of the fireplace while opening presents on Christmas Eve and sipping Ginger Ale on New Year’s Eve.
I once met one of Woodville’s famous native sons, astronaut Tom Hendricks, in the driveway of my grandparents’ house.
When we spent the night, it was hard to sleep. The pullout couch squeaked, the clocks chimed, there was always a cat ready to claw your feet and headlight beams from U.S. Route 20 traffic shone into the windows and slowly crossed the walls, all night long.
But I felt cozy, loved, at home, safe.
Which is why a Feb. 15 Blade column about Woodville caught me by such surprise. The worst little town in Ohio? Had I really been away so long?
A recent visit showed me nothing much has changed. That’s the charm and frustration of quiet small towns. It’s what makes teens declare they’ll leave for good at the first opportunity, only to move back years later to raise their own kids.
But “worst” is quite the heavy-handed qualifier.
Worst because it’s a “speed trap”? Hey, we all speed. Me especially. We all hate to get tickets. But speed limits are set by the Ohio Department of Transportation; they are clearly posted and local law enforcement simply enforces them.
According to a recent Blade investigation, 14 percent of the village’s general revenue came from traffic violations last year. That’s much higher than other local municipalities. But simply respect the laws and you won’t have to worry about contributing.
Woodville police issued 2,735 speeding tickets from 2012 through 2014: 598 in 2012, 964 in 2013 and 1,173 in 2014. That’s 3.2 tickets per day in 2014, or 2.5 per day on average over the past two years. For a “speed trap,” that doesn’t seem that excessive. The Blade also found the average speed for a ticket is 15.76 mph over the limit. That doesn’t seem unreasonable.
Woodville Police Chief Roy Whitehead said he stands behind his department. Tickets aren’t written out of malice or to artificially enhance village revenue, and each will show a “clear and just violation,” he told me.
Whitehead told me skepticism about Woodville’s reasoning for such strict enforcement — protecting kids crossing four-lane Route 20 — doesn’t bother him. He sleeps well at night knowing Woodville’s citizens are as safe as he can make them.
“I’ve had to knock on a few doors over the years to tell a family their loved one isn’t coming home,” Whitehead told me. “If enforcing traffic laws saves just one child’s life or person’s life then we’ve done our job.”
Worst because an officer shot a dog? A chocolate lab named Moses was shot Nov. 3 just outside Woodville after approaching a traffic stop from his owner’s business on Route 20. Steve Gilkerson, 29, a K-9 officer and nine-year Woodville Police veteran, said the dog had a “look in its eyes” and seemed to be intent on a target, not veering from his path even when yelled at. Moses has been in and out of hospitals since being shot and ended up losing a leg.
The incident was unfortunate, there’s no doubt about it. No one with a heart could feel otherwise. It’s one of those he said-she said situations that’s nearly impossible to resolve to the satisfaction of all parties.
But is Woodville really home to a “trigger-happy cop run amok”? An officer who shoots dogs because he thinks “that’s what cops get to do — shoot if and when they please, at anything or anyone they please,” as columnist Keith Burris wrote.
As much as I’m fond of it, Woodville is, well, boring. But that’s the way residents like it: quiet and peaceful.
That bullet that hit Moses came from the only line-of-duty discharge of a firearm by a Woodville Police officer in recent memory, at least as far as Whitehead can remember over his 21 years on the force and Mayor Richard Harman can remember in his more than 50 years in the village.
Worst because the officer was not punished? Four police chiefs, a firearms instructor and the Sandusky County prosecutor weighed the facts, including witness statements, and cleared Gilkerson of wrongdoing. Whitehead assured me if Gilkerson had shot in malice he would no longer be employed. I believe him.
In the wake of the incident, the department added vest cameras in December and dashboard cameras in January. Officers attended a seminar on dog behavior in February.
A Feb. 15 Blade Column naming Woodville the “Worst Little Town in Ohio” has upset many residents of the Northwest Ohio village. Photo via Facebook
The dog’s owners, Thomas Bischoff and Lauren Meyer, are upset, of course. Meyer, a Woodville native, said she thinks the officer made a “bad judgment call” and should have been disciplined. But she told me she still supports her hometown and its police department. She isn’t happy about the “worst small town” moniker.
“I’m upset with the way things were handled. But I’m not upset with the town or the police department. This town has always been safe,” Meyer told me. “When you slam the town like that, it just makes us look bad. Forgive and forget. We can’t forget. But we’re not out for blood.”
A few years ago, Burris moved back to his native Ohio after 25 years in Connecticut, and wrote a column (“Just a guy from Ohio — and glad of it,” April 28, 2013) in which he marveled anew at how nice Ohioans are.
He was happy to be in a place where being kind and neighborly is valued. Hey, that sounds a lot like Woodville. Where there’s a lack of pretension and people don’t take themselves too seriously. That’s Woodville, too. Where neighbors say “Hi” and invite you over. Check. Kindness and community? Yep, Woodville again.
I sat near Burris at Scott High School several months ago. We were there to hear a panel discussion about police-community relations, but toward the end the topic veered to media and how it covers only the bad stories and only superficially. Media was offered the opportunity to respond, and Burris spoke.
“I think the ‘side’ thing is what kills the conversation,” he said. “This idea that you pick a side ahead of time and you know the cop was bad before you even heard the story or you know Michael Brown was the bad guy before you have any evidence or any facts. So I think this whole idea that you join a team and you’re predisposed toward one set of answers before you even have any data, that’s what kills the conversation and what makes the division you were talking about even deeper. We’re never going to have that conversation because we already know.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
The Blade decries Woodville as an “authority structure built on the culture of bullying.” All I see is a columnist calling for the resignation of two people he’s never sat down and talked with. A newspaper hypocritically outraged by bullying. And a town being vilified over one isolated incident.
Like most people and places, Woodville is neither perfect nor fatally flawed.
But I see a town that took the initiative to install cameras.
I see a town that arranged and continues to arrange training opportunities for its officers on interacting with dogs.
I see a police chief who years ago ended the petty practice of issuing tickets for 2-6 mph over the limit to where it sits today at 12-18 mph over.
I see a mayor who took the time to answer each concerned email and phone call from citizens and dog advocates in the weeks following the incident and who is truly pained by the negative press.
That doesn’t sound like the worst little town in Ohio to me. It sounds like a place where I’m glad to say I have roots.
Sarah Ottney is editor in chief of Toledo Free Press. She can be reached at [email protected].
The next two weeks will be a great time to eat out in Northwest Ohio.
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First is Dine 419, a new weeklong restaurant event Feb. 23-March 1 that will raise money for Veterans Matter, a local nonprofit working to house homeless veterans. Toledo Free Press is proud to be a media sponsor of Dine 419. Then, from March 2-8, Restaurant Week Toledo returns for the fifth year to help raise funds for Leadership Toledo’s youth programs.
Since Veterans Matter was founded in Toledo in 2012, it has expanded to seven states and housed more than 500 homeless veterans, including 90 in Ohio.
Founder Ken Leslie was inspired after discovering there were thousands of veterans who qualify for permanent, supported housing and services from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) and the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA), but lack the initial rental deposits necessary to secure the housing and get off the streets.
Veterans Matter bridges that gap by raising money to cover deposits, which are transferred directly to landlords, speeding up the housing process for veterans and their families to days instead of months.
Restaurants participating in Dine 419 include The Beirut, The Black Pearl, The Blarney Irish Pub, Burger Bar 419, Byblos, Forrester’s on the River, Hollywood Casino Toledo (Final Cut Steak & Seafood, Scene and Take 2 Grill), Jed’s, Jim Shull’s Rib Cage, La Scola Italian Grill, McDonald’s, Poco Piatti, Table Forty4 and Ye Olde Cock n’ Bull.
Supporting veterans is an especially personal cause for several of the restaurant owners. Blarney owner Ed Beczynski is a veteran. Cock n’ Bull owner Jim Mettler’s father was a veteran. I’m also the father of a service member. My son, Austin, is an Army sergeant, based in Alaska.
In her column this week, another passionate local veterans advocate, The Arms Forces founder Pam Hays, challenges us to walk the talk in supporting veterans.
“People say they love others and then continue to ignore their plight, too busy to do anything self-sacrificing for another unless it comes with some notoriety or tangible reward,” she writes. “On patriotic holidays we put flags on our porches and say we love our country, but what do we personally do to ensure those who protect our country have their needs met and know they are loved?
“The VA won’t do it all. The huge organizations won’t do it all. It is what individual communities do that has the most impact on veterans and their families reintegrating back home to their new lives.”
Dine 419 offers the perfect opportunity to take that first step toward meeting Hays’ challenge: In this case, you can help simply by going out to eat.
Toledo Free Press is joined as a media sponsor of Dine 419 by iHeartMedia, Cumulus Toledo, WTOL-11, FOX Toledo and Toledo.com. Hollywood Casino Toledo stepped up in a big way as presenting sponsor, with VFW Post 2898 Toledo and Bottomline Ink also offering support.
Click here to read more about Veterans Matter and the participating restaurants or visit www.dine419.org. And don’t forget to share your photos using the hashtag #Dine419. Happy dining!
Thomas F. Pounds is president and publisher of Toledo Free Press. Contact him at [email protected].
Former Toledo mayors Mike Bell, Donna Owens, Jack Ford and Carty Finkbeiner with Toledo Mayor Paula Hicks-Hudson, center, after her swearing in ceremony Feb. 17. Toledo Free Press photo by Sarah Ottney
Before a standing-room only crowd at City Council chambers, Paula Hicks-Hudson was sworn in Feb. 17 as Toledo’s first female African-American mayor.
The ceremony was a formality as Hicks-Hudson, as City Council president, was sworn in as acting mayor Feb. 1 at University of Toledo Medical Center after Mayor D. Michael Collins was hospitalized in critical condition following a cardiac arrest and car accident. When he died Feb. 6, she became mayor.
Paula Hicks-Hudson, left, is sworn in as Toledo mayor by Judge Arlene Singer of the Sixth District Court of Appeals during a ceremony Feb. 17. Toledo Free Press Photo by Sarah Ottney
Hicks-Hudson’s remarks were laced with Biblical references and also drew laughs at times.
After thanking her husband, family members and friends, she addressed her former City Council colleagues.
“To my Council colleagues: I have unfortunately crossed the Rubicon to the 22nd floor,” she said wryly, to laughter. “But I have not crossed off the issues we that we’ve long cared about. It is my pledge to work with you for the betterment of the citizens. We may not always agree on the methods, but I’m sure we always will agree on the fundamental purpose of making this great city a great place to live and to work.”
She also drew laughs when thanking Judge Arlene Singer of Ohio’s 6th District Court of Appeals, whom she called her longtime friend and colleague.
“Thank you for swearing me in rather than swearing at me, which she has sometimes done,” Hicks-Hudson said, referring to her career as a lawyer.
Hicks-Hudson thanked all City of Toledo employees for continuing to do their jobs despite their shock and grief over Collins. She thanked particularly the executive team led by Chief of Staff Robert Reinbolt for helping her with the transition.
“It is a testament to their dedication and their professionalism that during these past two weeks, through their grief and disbelief, they got the job done,” she said.
With strong language, Hicks-Hudson made it clear the city would not falter in implementing plans set in place by Collins.
“Please rest assured that the city is not in turmoil. Rest assured that we are going to go forward with those plans and projects that were in the pipeline,” Hicks-Hudson said. “It is my intention and my plan to continue those initiatives … because those plans are for the betterment of this city and are what we need to do moving forward as a community.
Toledo Mayor Paula Hicks-Hudson reacts to cheers from the crowd following her swearing in ceremony Feb. 17. Toledo Free Press photo by Sarah Ottney
“We must actively and intelligently attract living wage jobs for our area. We must actively and intelligently create liveable spaces for families to make their homes. We must develop partnerships that can expand the width and depth of our region so our city can continue on this path of ascent.”
The role of mayor was not one she sought, but one that her professional career has prepared her for, Hicks-Hudson said.
“I stand before you with the determination and with the dedicated men and women of city government ready to assume this role,” she said. “Please know that I have accepted this challenge just as I have accepted other challenges in my life. But I accept this challenge with the understanding that you must be a part of it with me.”
With echoes of Collins’ prized slogan “You Will Do Better in Toledo,” Hicks-Hudson asked for a positive mindset.
“It is my plan and my intention to look at ways to show our young people that you can make a home here in Toledo,” she said. “The first act I ask you to do is speak with pride about this great city. Talk about the resilience about our community and the life we can provide for ourselves and our children.
“It is not an I versus You. It is an us, it is a we. It is we that can move this place forward. It is we who can make Toledo the city on the hill you can hear about so often.”
To close, Hicks-Hudson paraphrased the Book of Ecclesiastes
“To a season, there is a purpose and it is our purpose and our time to move this city forward, with your help and with the help of God,” she said.
In her invocation before the ceremony, Rev. Lori Strang of Redeemer Lutheran Church described Hicks-Hudson as having “a heart of a servant.”
“May our entire city be inspired by her service and that we may truly be a city of hope,” Stang said. “Lord, lead us into the future for we do not know what it holds but we know that you hold it. We thank you, Lord, for bringing us to this day. And, Lord, even with our hearts still filled with anxiety and sorry over the loss of D. Michael Collins, we thank you, Lord, that you have prepared someone for this place.”
Many of Hicks-Hudson’s family members and friends attended. Also in attendance at the ceremony were former Toledo mayors Donna Owens, Carty Finkbeiner, Mike Bell and Jack Ford, who is City Council president pro tempore after Hicks-Hudson became acting mayor. Hicks-Hudson acknowledged them for their attendance and support, saying, “each has been kind enough to offer words of encouragement and willingness to continue to help our great city.”
After the ceremony, Bell said he gave Hicks-Hudson’s speech was “excellent.”
“I give her an A+,” Bell said. “I thought her speech was extremely inclusive of a lot of related issues to our city. If she stays on that track, she will be an excellent mayor.”
Former Toledo mayors Mike Bell, Donna Owens, Jack Ford and Carty Finkbeiner with Toledo Mayor Paula Hicks-Hudson, center, after her swearing in ceremony Feb. 17. Toledo Free Press photo by Sarah Ottney
Ugh! It’s February and I feel so pressured to write about love.
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But love doesn’t always conjure memories of kind words, flowers, backrubs, cute nicknames and romantic dinners. I know many, myself included, who have felt the sting of those three words: I love you.
I remember someone who was quite evil to me, who caused me great physical, emotional and financial harm, saying, “But, I love you” and making me feel like every bone in my body exploded. I said to him, “How can you make the three most beautiful words in the world sound so hateful?”
Love is what makes the world go ‘round and its opposite, hatred, can bring it to a halt. But something I think is even more dangerous than hatred is apathy.
People say they love others and then continue to ignore their plight, too busy to do anything self-sacrificing for another unless it comes with some notoriety or tangible reward On patriotic holidays we put flags on our porches and say we love our country, but what do we personally do to ensure those who protect our country have their needs met and know they are loved?
Most of us past the age of 30 know, or should know, that our Vietnam veterans were not treated with respect when they came home from war. Because of that, they knew they were not loved. Why? Because respect goes hand in hand with love. If we shout at someone, spit at them or call them a bad name, no one can expect to feel loved when on the receiving end of such expressions. I hear a lot of people say we can’t allow what happened to our veterans back then happen today. But, we are allowing it. Why? Because apathy is setting in.
Civilians and nonmilitary families can watch the news and read the articles and become disinterested in the ongoing battles of our military, veterans and their families. We can see the evergrowing possibility of more wars as no more than a nuisance in our lives. We see war as a thing and not as the people involved in fighting them and the families who love them. We see the visible and the invisible wounds as sad stories that might make us tear up, but most don’t see the very real day-to-day sacrifices made so we can all live as free Americans in this great country.
We can agree or disagree on military action, but we cannot become divided on the support of those willing to go into battle to fight for our freedoms when asked. We cannot become apathetic to their sacrifices and the sacrifices of their families. We cannot say we are sorry to one generation of veterans and repeat the lack of respect, the lack of love, with another generation. We must become more aware of what is being done to help veterans in our own area. We can’t assume it is someone else’s responsibility to do the work and not involve ourselves. Please don’t say you love our military, veterans and our country and then never get involved. A sacrifice from you can make a difference in their lives.
You can become part of creating a new generation of veterans that will sit around years from now and tell stories about how their community stepped up and made sure they felt loved and respected for their military service. You can be a part of righting the wrongs from the past by ensuring the military’s younger generations never feel the pain of the words “We love you. We support you” being made empty through lack of action. You can make sure that your words match your actions. The VA won’t do it all. The huge organizations won’t do it all. It is what individual communities do that has the most impact on veterans and their families reintegrating back home to their new lives.
Love doesn’t mean never saying you’re sorry, to paraphrase a line from one of my favorite movies, “Love Story.” But love does include being sorry for hurting another and meaning those words. It also means changing yourself or the circumstances so you won’t hurt them again. It means we learn from our mistakes and never again want to feel the shame and pain we felt when we hurt someone we loved. I know most of you feel like I do. I love my country, my military, my veterans and their families from the deepest part of my heart. That’s not just during this month of love, but every day, every month, every year, forever. Let’s make sure we mean it when we say, “I love our military and veterans!”
Pam Hays is president and founder of The Arms Forces, thearmsforces.org; (419) 891-2111.
South
Toledo business owners remembered Mayor D. Michael Collins as a generous and
personable Mayor, someone who always gave a smile and a hug, and who was still
actively involved in not only visiting the businesses he once represented on
City Council, but in helping them grow.
Mayor
Collins never forgot his South Toledo roots. Like his Irish heritage, he held
strongly to that connection. Even when he became Mayor, he still helped the
neighborhood.
BUSINESS ASSOCIATION
Sue
Meadows of Capers Pizza, 2038 S. Byrne Road, knew Collins back when he was on
the Toledo Police Department and enjoyed his visits to her establishment as
mayor.
When he
was a City Councilman, Collins attended all the Byrne Heatherdowns Business
Association meetings, trying to help the businesses solve their varied issues.
As Mayor, he continued to attend. Meadows called him a “southender.”
“He
was big on neighborhoods,” Meadows said. “He was very personable and
he cared deeply about what he believed in and he sure believed in the City of
Toledo and that the neighborhood had to be strong.”
Collins
was a “busy guy,” Meadows said, but always took the time out to help
with the business association. He would give guidance on what they should
consider doing with their businesses and he would give the right contacts.
“The first meeting we
had in 2015 he did attend to let us know he was still trying to steer us in the
right direction,” Meadows said, “and that Matt Cherry would be our
new council person. When you’re working and got a group of 20 businesses and
trying to bring back the neighborhood and having him so supportive, it was
impressive that he would take the time with everything he had to do.”
Meadows
said the neighborhood experienced a crisis when three businesses decided to
move out: Churchills, Frisch’s and Fleegers Pro Hardware all pulled up stakes.
That’s when they formed the association to strengthen the neighborhood.
Meadows
will remember most the support and direction the Mayor gave to the South Toledo
businesses, and that he really wanted to do something for Southwyck, which is
only a couple blocks away from Capers.
“His
heart was for Southwyck,” Meadows said. “He wanted something to go in
there.”
EL TIPICO
Dina
Villa, the owner of El Tipico, 1444 South Avenue, said she was heartbroken over
the mayor’s death and considered him a friend of hers and a friend to her
business.
Her
parents owned El Tipico for 47 years and Villa was two years old when she first
walked into the restaurant. Now as the owner, she said she could always count
on the Mayor visiting in one of his Irish sweaters, one sweater he had come
directly from Ireland.
“He
was just always so kind and supportive of our business as a friend,” Villa
said. “I’ve never met another man who has that twinkling in his eye. I
would never want to cross him either.”
Villa
added she was “completely heartbroken” at the news of Collins passing.
“It’s
shocking, to only have been in office a little over a year,” she said. “I do
consider him a friend, personally and of our little restaurant. I say our
little restaurant because we’re a small business and he supported us and he
supports all small business.”
Mayor
Collins took the time out of his busy day to attend El Tipico’s taco eating
contest, Villa recalled, which really impressed her. She said he had a good
time as a judge and was personable with everyone. He had had a funeral and a
wedding to go to that day but made the time to come, she said.
“He
always had a hug and a smile for me all the time,” she said. “I’m
grateful he died doing what he loved the most, caring about his city. He was
doing his mayoral responsibilities. God bless him.”
MICHAEL’S CAFÉ & BAKERY
Michael
Armstrong, owner of Michael’s Café & Bakery, 101 Main Street, said Mayor
Collins would visit his business once, sometimes twice, a week.
“Sometimes
he was his wife, sometimes by himself,” Armstrong said. “He went through here
several times without saying a peep, and stood in line and waited like anyone
else. He was a humble, hardworking, nice
man.
“He never
came in like royalty or like he expected anything,” Armstrong added. “If he
could come through incognito and never be recognized, he would be happier. He always went around supporting Toledo
businesses the best he could. One time I
told him, ‘If there’s anything we can do for you, let me know.’ And then the
mayor responded very humbly, ‘If there’s anything else we can do for you as a
business owner, let me know, too.’”
Armstrong
said Collins passing is a “tremendous loss for the city.”
FRESH MARKET
Jeff
VanPelt, manager of Fresh Market, 3315 West Central Avenue, said Collins would
often interact with people when he visited. He would visit once or twice a
week.
“People always
said hello to him, and he was always very friendly,” VanPelt said. “When he was
first elected, I told him I didn’t vote for him and he said, ‘Why’s that?’ And
I said, ‘because I live in Michigan,’ and he got a big chuckle out of
that.
“But he’s
a good guy and I’m going to miss him a lot,” VanPelt said. “He had a good
relationship with a few guys in the meat market, and he just walked around and
shopped like everyone else, always with a smile on his face. Those weeks with the water crisis were tough,
but he always had a smile on his face.
We’re going to miss him.”
WIXEY BAKERY
Brian
Wixey called Collins “phenomenal” and said he was a frequent customer
of their Wixey Bakery, 2017 Glendale Ave. The Mayor looked after his community,
Wixey said, and his visits there were very “personable experiences.”
“It
was very off-the-cuff and very communal,” Wixey said. “We are glad to
have shared time together.”
Toledo
Free Press Associate Editor Tom Konecny
and staff writer Matt Liasse contributed to this report.
People often referred to Toledo Mayor D. Michael Collins as The Professor and he certainly fit the part. But while he could be pedantic, he was never pretentious. He considered himself a humble public servant, a man of the people. And the people agreed.
“Working people know I am not lofty,” Collins told former Toledo Free Press Editor in Chief Michael S. Miller in 2013 during a walk Downtown. “They know I am one of them.”
Those same workers and hundreds of others lined the streets Feb. 12 to pay their last respects during a funeral procession that passed many of the locations significant to Collins’ work and life, which he spent almost exclusively in Toledo.
I’ll miss Collins’ voice. It somehow had a perfect cadence so that I never felt rushed or behind when taking notes. Quoting him could be frustrating, however, as the middle of his sentences tended to meander so that the end bore only slight relation to the beginning. He’d sometimes say, “There are two reasons I support this,” only to launch into such a convoluted explanation for the first reason that he’d finish his remarks having never gotten to the second reason at all. However, he gave out his home number and always answered the phone; as a journalist, that’s the best I can ask.
Only once did he get irritated with me. Apparently he felt he’d already said everything there was to be said during his remarks at a public forum, so when I approached him afterward for some extra comments, he just handed me his speech. After that, he did it several more times, each time with a glimmer in his eye. The irony, of course, is that possessing his prepared statements was nearly useless, as he never read from them without deviating, paraphrasing or ad-libbing.
The last time I saw him was Jan. 26 at One Government Center during the anniversary memorial for the Toledo firefighter deaths. In the lobby after the ceremony, we were both talking to other people, but he caught my eye and handed me his speech with a wink and a smile. Even though we didn’t speak, I’m glad now I had that one last moment.
One of my personal favorite memories of Collins is from the unveiling of the first of 55 “You Will Do Better in Toledo” road signs on Dec. 17. It was bitterly cold, but he was beaming with pride. It was clear how much he loved this city, for what it was and what it could be.
Collins got only 13 months in office and they were punctuated by seemingly constant challenges, from the firefighter deaths to historic cold and snow, toxic algae, infrastructure concerns and uncertainty over the future of Jeep Wrangler production. At Collins’ Feb. 11 memorial, his chief of Staff Robert Reinbolt noted that rather than deterring him, the challenges he faced seemed to only make him stronger. He was 70 but wasn’t afraid of hard work and long hours.
“We’ve been a government that’s been reactive instead of where I really wanted to be and that was to be more proactive in terms of giving us a different direction,” Collins told me after his State of the City address in December, when he announced plans for the signs (and commented on my Claddagh ring). “I’m hoping in 2015 we can take those dynamic steps to redefine Toledo.”
I wish he’d been given the chance.
It took several days before news of his death actually sunk in.
Intellectually, I could tell the outlook was grim after his Feb. 1 cardiac arrest — minutes without oxygen, a cardiologist gravely pronouncing his condition “very critical” and unable to predict the likelihood of recovery, updates from the city each day reporting no change. But in my heart, it didn’t seem possible he wouldn’t recover. Perhaps not well enough to continue as mayor, but at least enough to embark on a new challenge: a long recovery process and frustrating forced retirement.
But it was not to be.
In Collins’ last public comments, addressing the pending Level 3 snow emergency an hour before his cardiac arrest, he characteristically urged Toledoans to help one another: “This is a time a community comes together and defines itself as it relates to its character. We’ll get through this together.”
He campaigned under the slogan “Collins Cares,” and proved it was true by the time he took to talk to people, by the personal details he noticed and remembered, by the hours he spent poring over city budgets, by the time he took to study issues he wasn’t familiar with, by the small businesses he made a point of supporting, by the myriad community gatherings he attended.
Proceeds from the sale of a T-shirt designed in honor of Toledo Mayor D. Michael Collins will be donated to the family of late Toledo Police Officer Mike Greenwood via the Toledo Police Patrolman’s Association.
Greenwood, 52, died Feb. 1 from an apparent heart attack while shoveling snow off duty. He leaves a wife and two children.
Greenwood began his law enforcement career in 1984 with the Lucas County Sheriff ’s Office. He joined Toledo Police Department (TPD) in 1992 and was recently assigned to the property management unit.
He was formerly a field training officer, receiving the Professional Service Medal in 2008. He also received the Distinguished Service Medal in 1996 for saving an elderly woman’s life in a house fire.
The shirt was designed by Perrysburg-based apparel company Jupmode at the request of Toledo Free Press columnist Jeremy Baumhower of IHeartGlassCity, who wanted one for himself. After others expressed interest, Baumhower and Jupmode owner John Amato decided to make more and donate the proceeds to Greenwood.
“I think its’ the perfect way to honor D. Michael Collins by taking care of a family of the TPD,” Baumhower said.
Collins, who died Feb. 6, five days after going into cardiac arrest, was a retired police officer.
In lieu of flowers, Collins’ family suggested donations be made to a charity of the donor’s choice.
While many Toledoans recognize D. Michael Collins for his work at One Government Center as mayor and Toledo City Councilman, he started his career on the streets of the city.
Collins was a 26-year veteran of the Toledo Police Department (TPD), a career he began in 1973. He served on the vice squad, metro drug unit and crimes against persons unit.
From 1988 through his retirement in 1999, Collins served as president of the Toledo Police Patrolman’s Association (TPPA). He received numerous letters of recognition for excellence in police service during his career in law enforcement, and in 1997 was awarded TPD’s Professional Service Award.
His former partner, Ron Scanlon, is a retired TPD detective who played a role getting Collins onto the vice squad.
“He was known to be a very intelligent patrol officer,” Scanlon said. “Some of the guys thought he was kind of nerdy and wouldn’t work out, but I thought just the opposite and went to bat for him. … He grew his hair out a little bit, grew a beard and lo and behold, turned out to be one of the best investigators we had in the entire unit.”
The two also worked with another partner, John Tharp, who is now Lucas County Sheriff.
Together, they made a lot of arrests for liquor violations, illegal gambling, prostitution and drugs, Scanlon said.
“He was a true professional in every sense of the word,” Scanlon said, fighting back tears as he reflected on those years. “He was very thorough. … He wouldn’t do a search warrant just based on a whim or a Crime Stopper [report] without doing surveillance and having good intelligence.”
As an undercover officer, protecting his informants was very important to Collins, Scanlon said.
“One thing he never did was turn on an informant,” he said. “They trusted him. Mike learned early that if he burned an informant, the word gets out on the streets. Without informants, you’re basically useless. You can’t do anything. … In a city the size of Toledo, sooner or later you’re known. That’s why the more informants you have, the more information you can get.”
As devoted to his job as Collins was, he was also dedicated to his family, Scanlon said. He said they would often feel guilty because of all the hours they would spend doing surveillance, making arrests and then subsequent time in court at hearings and trials — all time spent away from their families.
“One thing that bothered Mike was missing a lot of time with the kids,” Scanlon said. “But he did everything he could do to spend time with them and show them how much he loved them. He was just a great individual police officer and family man. … I get broken up every time I think about it. I can’t believe it.”
Oregon Police Chief Mike Navarre began his career with TPD as a road patrol officer in 1977, when Collins was on the vice squad. While Navarre would occasionally see Collins during that time, the two didn’t start working closely together until Collins became president of TPPA.
Collins represented officers in most of the disciplinary hearings involving police, and Navarre was a lieutenant in internal affairs. As a result, the two worked together on a daily basis.
“He was very passionate about his duties,” Navarre said. “He didn’t take that representation lightly and he put in a lot of time and was very conscientious. He did his due diligence to make sure the officers he represented got the very best he could offer.”
Navarre said working with Collins was a joy, although not always easy.
“It was a pleasure working with him because he was such an honorable person,” Navarre said. “He was always candid. He didn’t play the games that some people like to play, and we got things done. We had some spirited disagreements, but we always respected each other’s opinion. Sometimes I would take a position that Mike disagreed with. He would tell me why, and oftentimes he was able to convince me that I was wrong. … The police department was always in his best interest. He knew when to fight, he knew when not to fight. He didn’t waste money on going after fights that he couldn’t win.”
Navarre said Collins’ greatest accomplishment as TPPA president was likely getting a union hall built at 1947 Franklin Ave.
No matter which direction Collins was heading, he made it a point to always drive past the TPPA Hall, his Chief of Staff Robert Reinbolt said.
“We could have been headed to the opposite end of the city, but he’d find a way to say, ‘Well, we’ve got to drive this way to get to wherever we’re going,’” Reinbolt said.
Navarre said shortly after he became TPD chief in 1998, he neglected to attend the funerals of a couple of former officers, for which he took some heat from police retirees. He came to learn attending funerals was one of the most important functions of the chief of police.
“The thing that I noticed during the years is Michael Collins was always there. Always there,” he said. “That was one thing I could always count on was him being there. … He was always there for those funerals, so you can bet that I’ll be there for his.”
The two stayed in touch after Navarre’s departure from TPD in 2011, and into Collins’ first year as mayor.
“I think he was loving it,” Navarre said of Collins’ role as mayor. “One of his greatest strengths is thriving during times of controversy and handling different crises. He was always positive, always smiling, jovial. I think he was just having the time of his life.”
When George Kral was sworn in as the new Toledo Police Chief last month, Collins said he first noticed Kral’s character and potential in the late 1980s during a disciplinary hearing at which both testified.
At least one interaction between the two did not go as Kral would have liked.
“My biggest memory of him is when I was a newly appointed sergeant and he was president of the patrolman’s association,” Kral said. Kral had to write up a patrolman for an infraction. The case went to a chief ’s hearing, where Kral went up against Collins on the matter.
It didn’t go well for Kral.
“Let’s just say I was soundly defeated by him in the chief’s hearing. Up to the day he passed away, when we would be in a lighter moment, he would bring it up: ‘Remember the time, George, when I kicked your butt in a chief’s hearing?’ We had a laugh over it,” Kral said. “He was laughing more than me.”
The police chief said the lighthearted exchange was indicative of his time with Collins.
“For as serious as he was, he had a fantastic sense of humor,” Kral said. “You had to really know him to understand his sense of humor. … He was incredibly intelligent. I didn’t know a lot of people who were smarter than him. … He did his homework on everything and [when he asked a question] he knew it just as well if not better than the person he was asking.”
Kral was only able to work under Collins’ administration for one month.
“I really wanted an opportunity to work with him for his entire term,” Kral said. “I’m really sad I don’t get the opportunity to work with him more.”
