COMMENTA RY
Charity Vogel: Bookstore raises the bar in South Buffalo
They knew him as the bartender with a book. All over South Buffalo, at various colorfully named drinking establishments beginning with “Mc” and “O’,” he was a familiar sight. Perched behind the bar, a glass at his elbow, a paperback in his hands or resting facedown nearby.
Mud McGrath’s. O’Daniel’s. Charlie O’Brien’s. If you were there, you saw Tom McDonnell and his books.
Of course, South Buffalo being what is, the guys in the bar would never ask about the books directly. Not in front of their friends. Instead, they’d wait a day or two, and then come back — a little sheepishly. But curious.
“These big burly construction-type guys would come in,” said McDonnell, “and say, ‘Hey, I saw what you were reading. How is that? Is it any good?’ ”
McDonnell spent 22 years pouring beers and mixing drinks before the truth hit him.
He wasn’t a bartender who liked books. He was a book lover who knew how to tend bar.
That revelation was followed in quick succession by another, this time about South Buffalo itself.
McDonnell grew up there. At 40, it’s in his blood; he eats, breathes and sleeps this section of the city. His walk is the swagger of kids raised on the south side; his voice carries the music of a lifetime spent hearing stories told by people of Irish blood.
But South Buffalo is struggling, maybe now more than ever. The 21st century is not always kind to districts like this one: ethnic, entrenched, blue-collar, moody. All the accolades in the world paid to a favorite son like Tim Russert don’t begin to change that.
These neighborhoods, McDonnell knew, are at a tipping point. Blight lies on one side of the divide; possibility lingers on the other, but it’s fading fast.
So, not long ago, McDonnell, a married father of three kids under 5, figured it was time to do what he could to save the Buffalo he loves.
He decided this: Salvation, for South Buffalo, no longer resides at the bottom of a pint glass. From now on, it needs to come through books — through the words and images that allow people to travel the world, strengthen their minds and expand their horizons, all without leaving the 14220 ZIP.
McDonnell found a building. He found a backer, Pat Callahan, a business owner he befriended while tending bar. This week, his vision becomes concrete, as Dog Ears Bookstore at 688 Abbott Road. Above the store, a loft called “The Enlightenment Literary Arts Center” provides space for cultural events.
South Buffalo has had nothing like this to boast of. Now, it does.
McDonnell, who walks around Dog Ears’ glossy wood floors in a manner that suggests he still feels a bar cloth hanging from his back pocket, spent 18 months getting ready. From the gilt hearth to the striped Victorian chairs to the curving iron staircase, it’s his baby.
It’s a gamble, too.
Drive down Abbott, and you see the signs of a troubled city. Shuttered beauty shops. Churches with “For Sale” signs. Even the space occupied by the bookstore used to be a boarding house where $75 got you a room for the week, toilet in the hall.
“Here’s what happens,” said McDonnell, gazing around the shop, “when you’re behind the bar for 22 years with a book.”
Good thing he was, for South Buffalo; for the rest of us, too. Each small step may not accomplish everything, but each makes the city stronger, and that strengthens the framework of the region we all inhabit.
Can hope come with a table of contents?
In South Buffalo, the answer might just be yes.
