Between CVS and Aveda, on the corner of Neil and 10th avenues, there is a vacant lot. Everyone who frequents South Campus probably walks by it every day on their way to Marketplace or to class at the School of Nursing and don’t think twice about the empty patch of dirt. What many of them don’t know is that this small piece of land was once home to the best seedy Irish pub in the campus area. I’m talking of course about J.R. Migg’s.
Like many OSU students of an earlier era, I discovered Miggs at the beginning of my freshman year. After a few weeks of Kennedy Commons cooking running through my system (literally) I was searching for some culinary variety. My roommates and I decided to take a short stroll down Neil Avenue to the dimly lit pub on the corner (a trip that was subsequently referred to as the “Miggs-a-thon”). After sampling the iconic “Migg’s Burger Deal,” I was instantly hooked. Despite the fact that we left the place smelling like an odd combination of sweat and fryer grease, forcing us to immediately wash all of our clothing and take a shower, we knew that we would quickly become regulars.
The beauty of J.R. Migg’s was its simplicity. With old ketchup bottles serving as soap dispensers in the bathroom and a poster featuring “The Doors of Northern Ireland” on the wall, it was the kind of hidden gem that you felt cool for discovering. The pub was owned and operated by a gentleman who we simply referred to as “Old Man Miggs.” This is because we were too intimidated to ask for his real name. He was the kind of guy who insisted that we get our own drink refills back in the kitchen if we wanted them, despite our hesitation. That’s just how he was and that’s just how J.R. Migg’s was.
So you can imagine my immeasurable sadness when I walked down for a burger one cold December night a few years ago to find the place mysteriously closed. For months Miggs remained shut down. I was still hoping for an eventual resurrection, until I received a distressed call from my roommate on day. “It’s gone,” he said. “They’ve bulldozed it to the ground.”
In the end, the only things left are questions. Where have you gone J.R. Migg’s?
Some people said it had run out of money. Others say that Old Man Miggs had simply grown tired of the restaurant business. I even heard a rumor that he had been caught funneling the pub’s profits to the Irish Republican Army. Either way, a generation of Migg’s regulars is left with a void in their hearts and in their stomachs that is larger than the void left next to CVS. How are we supposed to feed our hunger for a largely exaggerated but casual Irish dining experience? It was a one-of-a-kind place, and those who were there still mourn its passing. Once something’s gone, you just can’t get it back.
Rod Swain is a senior in international studies. He can be reached at [email protected].
