An upbringing in Garrettsville, Ohio for most kids includes a white picket fence and the traditions of a small farm town. As a girl born and raised in the quaint and beautiful town of Garrettsville you could expect me to be a somewhat sheltered and naive. Luckily I was raised by parents that implemented diversity, culture and experience into my daily life. I have memories, from a very early age, of exploring art museums, long car rides to the city, and the most vivid, memories of the West Side Market. In my childhood I spent over 100’s of weekends at the historic marketplace that is flooded with diversity, culture, and amazing experiences. I give some credit to the West Side Market for shaping the person I am today.
A typical Saturday at the West Side Market for my family included a walk through the fish department where my brothers and I pretended to gag at the smell of fresh seafood. Our first stop was always the historic Johnny Hot Dog stand, where we would enjoy chili cheese hot dogs at 8 a.m. After our first indulgence the food didn’t stop, we would go out in pairs to collect smokies, cheese, bread, and sausage sandwiches and then meet on the balcony that overlooked the crowded aisles of tradition. Many family photos and memories were created on that balcony. I lost my first tooth while chomping down on pretzel bread from Vera’s Bakery, and the Hadzinsky staple of smokie sandwiches were always enjoyed and shared.
Over the years we brought family and friends to our favorite Cleveland cornerstone and laughed as shock spread across their face at the sight of pigs in the display windows of every butcher stand. Before leaving the market my father would challenge the prices of our favorite fruit stand, King’s Produce. Before I could order for myself, I would be handed multiple samples of exotic fruit, many times needing a boost from my dad or brothers to reach the fruit.
Aside from learning how to indulge in earthly, fresh foods I learned about life at the market. I watched my parents bring bananas or bread to the homeless surrounding the market and remember the life lessons that would follow their actions. I was served by young kids who were born into a family business and appreciated the freedoms of my childhood. I was taught how to speak for myself and to always order with politeness. I learned about the need for acceptance of different cultures and traditions. Most importantly, at an early age I began taking pride in my city. My parents exposed me to the best of Cleveland and instilled an early love and admiration for CLE. The culture of community within the walls of the West Side Market allowed me to be a part of something unique and special. My early days at the market created the passion to move to downtown after graduation and start traditions of my own. Cleveland in recent months has been given the title “center of the universe”, but in my world Cleveland has always been my center.
As I look back on the Saturdays I spent with my family at the market, I’m reminded of how all the small things in life make up so much of who we are. Listening to Supertramp’s “Take The Long Way Home” will always remind me of taking the winding backroads home to Garrettsville after a successful trip to WSM, and any time we’re all in the same place at the same time there are hours of stories to be told of our family life at the market.
