Shamokin Swings for the Swank
Looking for a ground floor opportunity or a refreshing Old Fashioned? Shamokin might be the ticket for you.
A close friend and cigar aficionado who lives in Connecticut calls me up one morning with an unexpected question.
“What do you know about Shamokin?”
I haven’t discussed that town in years and haven’t visited it in about twenty. All I knew about it at the time was that the demise of the anthracite coal industry, once huge in Pennsylvania, dragged down many of the communities that served it. Shamokin got hit the hardest. Its population peaked in the 1920s at over 22,000 people, shrinking to less than 7,000 one hundred years later.
In other words, I knew that Shamokin was in a hole deeper than the coal pits surrounding it.
“Why do you ask?”
“There’s a cigar lounge I want to check out.”
“In Shamokin?”
According to Google Maps, the city now boasted not only two cigar lounges, but two brewpubs as well, both promising indicators of a community on the rebound.
For too long, Shamokin’s decline reduced it to a place to pass through on my way to Knoebel’s Grove Amusement park, one of the happiest places on earth. Palmer’s Diner on the city’s outskirts advertised in Roadside for years, and a visit there in the mid-1990s gave me the opportunity to at least get a lay of the land. Sad to say, things looked rough then, and it only got worse.
The Ground Floor of Revival
I’m a sucker for an underdog. I blame my long suffering fandom of the Red Sox that began thirty-six long years before their 2004 championship victory. In Pennsylvania’s coal country, all-too-many underdog cities and towns struggle as well. All those tight-knit, tidily built communities tucked away in the northern Appalachians endure as time capsules in a forgotten region sandwiched between the expansive Susquehanna River valley to the north and the fertile and pastoral Dutch Country farmlands to the south.
Abandoned strip mines left scars the landscape while some leach acid into the local streams. Looking at a satellite view of Shamokin shows the orange tainted streams running through the town. Reclamation has already begun, but it may be another generation before those mountains look whole again. Meanwhile the towns need something else. They need people who see the area’s potential and are willing to risk investing in its revival. They need the crazy ones.
We can point to plenty of precedence for success, however. The two big steel making powerhouses in the state, Pittsburgh and Bethlehem, have both transformed themselves into thriving cities again, both with good scrubbings, marketing, planning, and investment. Cities that managed to retain their infrastructure and historic architecture tend to have a better chance than those that ripped out their guts during the 1960s urban renewal wave, but a long slog still awaits those who try.
When Louise and I pulled into town on a warm Sunday afternoon, we found Oliver’s immediately, and we found it closed, perhaps permanently. Either Google lied to me or someone forgot to change the hours. Looking through its window, my heart sank further. The Christmas tree told me this place hadn’t seen a customer in weeks if not months.
No matter. I knew from preliminary research that Oliver’s owner, Edward Manning, also owned Heritage, an upscale restaurant (for Shamokin) nearby. We drove around a bit more to get a better lay of the land and then stopped at the quaint building built in the French Empire style at the corner of North Market and West Arch Streets for appetizers and hopefully a chat.
Let’s get something out of the way. Even on a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon, I found so little activity in the heart of the city’s business district, we could have spread out a picnic feast in the middle of Independence Street, the city’s main drag, and enjoyed a peaceful meal. I can’t sugar coat this. Shamokin had dropped to its knees in the past two decades when it narrowly escaped bankruptcy. The population shrank by 25% just in the past ten years. So, why did I come here again?
Meet the Crazy One
The man behind the bar at Heritage bore a striking resemblance to the late, great actor Alan Rickman. All that was missing was the accent. Dropping in unannounced as we did has its pitfalls, but thanks to the slow Sunday, Edward had ample time to share his story of transformation and risk-taking.
He and his wife Wendy both came from careers in the corporate world, “focused on customer service,” he said. In Shamokin, they saw a ground floor investment opportunity. After consulting with people in the know about the area, they took the plunge, first with Oliver’s and then with Heritage, which they bought (with much coaxing) from its original owners who started it in 2018.
Gesturing to the pressed tin ceilings and the decor paying homage to Shamokin’s coal-centered history, Edward said. “All this work was already done when we moved in.”
The space has seen many retail uses since its construction in the 1880s, selling dry goods, hardware, auto parts, and toys. It also accommodated a luncheonette, at least two bars, an arcade, and a Chinese restaurant. Building out Heritage restored much of its stunning 19th century charm, sensitively updated with 21st century amenities.
“Oliver’s took on some water and smoke damage from the fire in the restaurant next door,” he told us. “We were open for a year and a month when it happened,” and plans to reopen by the end of this summer, as long as the damage is light and needs mostly a thorough cleaning. Despite the setback, he seemed to take it in stride. If Edward stresses about anything, he hides it well.
His original plans for Oliver’s called for something beyond a cigar shop with couches. The photos online depict the successful creation of an oasis of swank aimed at a regional clientele. Staging cigar events attracted aficionados from the Lehigh Valley area almost two hours away.
Instead of cigars at Oliver’s, we settled for apps at Heritage. “We brought our chef over from Oliver’s,” he said. “Over there, the food was limited, and here he had a much bigger menu to work with. It’s better for everyone.”
We ordered a nicely plated array of succulent pulled-pork stuffed red peppers and the veggie flatbread. I rarely order anything veggie, but if I became a regular here, I could make this my go-to.
We polished it off with a slice of standard-setting homemade pecan pie and an Old Fashioned Edward makes with Liber & Co.’s Demerara Gum Syrup in place of simple syrup. It made a real difference. The eight-dollar price of this exceptional cocktail alone should prompt at least a few road trips from any metro area within a few hour’s drive.
Edward readily cites one major positive development. After a lot of hemming and hawing about its impact on the city, Shamokin recently passed an ordinance allowing ATVs on certain streets on weekends between 9 AM and a half-hour before sundown. As we drove through town, I saw not only the signs indicating allowed routes for ATVs, but dozens of them parked on the street outside the few open restaurants.
This ordinance faced no little resistance, but with over 70,000 off-roaders trekking from across the Northeast to the Anthracite Outdoor Adventure Area centered in Coal Township to ride 200 miles of trails, it made economic sense to welcome them. Otherwise, off-roaders would spend their money with businesses already on the network.
I’ve met plenty of dreamers like Edward. I can’t help but root for them. But finding such a refined space in a town on life-support for so long begs the question, why Shamokin? Pennsylvania has no shortage of communities decimated by the loss of industry. Edward credits a growing number of believers with solid plans working hard to stem the decline — an important factor in the process. No one person can do this just like no single industry will ever come in and save Shamokin. Attitudes must change and residents need to believe.
Yes, the town has lost some major landmarks, but we didn’t see those as we explored the city. We saw how much they still have. I want to think that Shamokin has nowhere to go but up, and I plan to return at the end of summer to light up at Oliver’s and to see if I’m right.
Shamokin’s Sparks of Life
As previously mentioned, Shamokin has two cigar lounges and breweries. Breaker Cigars, also closed on Sundays, is mainly a well-stocked and appointed cigar shop with some outdoor seating. Also in the same beautifully preserved building and resting on Sunday is The Covered Bridge Brewhaus shares space in the same beautifully preserved building. It too rests on Sunday.
We also visited and sampled the beer and appetizers at the Lost Mined Brewery three short blocks away from Heritage and on the ATV trail. We actually stopped there first, thoroughly enjoying a flight and the jalapeño pierogis and the Lost Mind Fries (Tip: Order menu items with the restaurant’s name. They have to be good, and these fries were great.) If you like IPA, I recommend the Mind Dust. Otherwise, give the Nuckin Futs dark ale, if for no other reason than to test your ability to avoid reversing the Spoonerism. We met some off-roaders here, so covered in mud that they looked like miners.
Palmer’s Diner still grills up breakfast and lunch under new ownership. We didn’t stop on this trip, but the packed parking lot told us that former Roadside-supporter Paul Palmitessa left it in good hands.
As if to further rub in the mistake of visiting on Sunday, we also had to leave Shamokin with Coney Island Lunch untried. It’s open every other day of the week, though, and it recently celebrated its 100th anniversary.
For more optimism about Shamokin, a good place to start is GoShamokin.com. Also, I recommend listening to this podcast for further background on the city’s recent history and those involved working to stem the decline.
As always, please leave comments below. They help us spread the word about Randy by Name.
Thinking about a road trip up there next week. 😎
My grandad grew up in Shamokin on 5th Street. He worked in the mines. When they closed, he and his wife and their young son (my dad) moved to Connecticut. My Grandpa eventually succumbed to Black lung disease from working in the mines. I remember going to Shamokin when I was
about 10 years old to visit with my Grandma Lottie. Great Grandpa John had passed many years before from Black Lung disease.