Fish Logs Tiles
Last year, “House of Hades” tiles began appearing in downtown Cincinnati again. The mysterious pieces of street art, which take inspiration from the original “Toynbee Tiles,” have been a favorite subject of mine over the years. Thanks to the weather of this past winter, it seems like those latest examples may have finally “cured.” I’ll check on them all eventually, but for now—another form of tiles has emerged. This time in a different neighborhood and bearing a local reference.
I really wish I could tell you the history of The Old Timber Inn. I didn’t (and still don’t) like seafood, however, and despite my penchant for cool, old restaurants in my home city—I never stepped foot in there. As soon as I saw the top photo on Google Maps, though, I was filled with instant regret (thank you, “john s,” for uploading it five years ago):
It was as if I’d missed out on something I’d never known I wanted. Then I read this great essay in City Beat by Madge Maril which details colorful conversations with the owner.
My heart began to ache even more.
Some folks wish they could go back in time to meet historical figures or witness monumental events. I just wish I had gone into the “FISH LOGS place.”
I (and many others) called it that because that’s all the sign out front ever said. Just a simple advertisement for the signature dish: “FISH LOGS.”
True, there was a mural on the wall with the establishment’s real name, but it was hard to focus on that when the bright, yellow sign along the main drag was hawking some sort of delicacy that didn’t sound real. And despite the thousands of times I drove, cycled, or skated by, I never went it.
Thankfully, there’s a few great records of a now closed business and the food it was famous for. In addition to the City Beat piece, local “food etymologist” Dann Woellert (who I spoke with for this story on root beer stands), has a wonderful write-up on the Old Timber Inn. A business that always appeared closed, but didn’t really shutter until a few years ago when it seems, sadly, the proprietor passed away.
All this to say, that the sign was an iconic sight within one of the city’s more interesting neighborhoods. And in true Northside fashion, when it was gone, a “yarn bomb” appeared to honor it.
The knitted remembrance lasted until the building’s new owners affixed a more permanent tribute:
Those aren’t the only examples of recognition, however, as someone has also recently utilized the artistic methods of the “Toynbee” and “House of Hades” tiles to honor the former landmark.
Thanks to talented writer, kind friend, and Northside resident, Michael Griffith (I still owe you a beer), I was introduced to the FISH LOGS tiles:
They may be a bit smaller and a bit more crude than the “original” tiles, but they’re nonetheless just as lovely—appearing to “cure” much slower than their high-trafficked cousins downtown. Still, they’re a fitting tribute to the community they’re found within.
I hope that the Old Timber Inn might one day be reborn. I’ll probably pass on the fish logs, but I’d love to sit at that bar across from the mounted swordfish and raise a toast to the place’s history.
If you happen to know who owns the building now, I’d love to speak with them about the place’s history and see if any of the old bar is left. I’d also love to know if there are any more FISH LOGS tiles out there. Feel free to reach out.
Back with more stories, including more tile stories, soon.
You can find all previous Toynbee/House of Hades documentations here.
Update | March 17, 2024:
A third Fish Logs tile has been located in Northside:
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