“Memories light the corners of my mind — misty, water-colored memories of the way we were.”  

That’s right, folks. I just laid some Barbra Streisand lyrics on you. In your hearts, didn’t you always know that I would get to this point someday? 

So, I was doing deep research for my weekly column. That is, I was scrounging around on Facebook and begging strangers for column ideas like a feral cat begs for table scraps. 

I’m usually looking for goofy ideas when I resort to Facebook begging — and the goofier the better, thank you — but then one John Brubaker, who had apparently missed the memo, violated the rules of this whole affair by laying an actually good idea on me. 

“Places and things in town that don’t exist anymore,” he wrote, “but people wish still did.” 

And my, how the people jumped into the fray. Lots of people miss lots of places and things, as it turns out, and those memories came flying at me like a storm of time-traveling locusts. 

As the author of this column, sort of, I get to go first. 

Speaker’s Variety on Spruce Street in Lewiston. It’s not just the hot ham and cheese sandwiches I miss at Speaker’s, it’s the gossip, too.  I used to get so much good information from such a variety of sources while waiting for my sandwich to cook to the perfect shade of brown, I really should have set up a desk there. 

I also miss Victor News on Park Street, which had literally everything a guy on his way to work could ever need, from a pack of smokes to a corkscrew and toilet plunger. Victor News was a great source for gossip, too, because it was right in the middle of everything. My longing for the offerings and ambiance of that great old smoke shop is so great that I find myself pulling into park in front of it even five years after it closed down. 

Laverdiere’s Super Drug. Yes, I know that Laverdiere’s hasn’t been around for decades, but that doesn’t mean a soul can’t miss it.  

Laverdiere’s, which was the only game around on Sundays back in the way past, was a magical place where a guy couldn’t take three steps past the door without seeing a dozen different things that he HAD TO HAVE AND I MEAN RIGHT NOW! 

I’m talking Silly String here. I’m talking Mexican jumping beans, Sea Monkeys, Clackers, Etch-a-Sketch, Nerf balls, Stretch Armstrong, View Master and Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots, and all of that before you had taken 10 steps inside the stores. 

These modern drug stores just don’t compare. Walk into one of these existing stores and it’s all underarm deodorant, corn pads and hemorrhoid cream. Maybe you need some of that junk, but do you really want it the way you wanted one of those Magic-8 balls at Laverdiere’s? 

I miss a shabby little bar on Maple Street in Lewiston called The Ritz. It’s better if you don’t know why I miss this bar so much. 

But look at me hogging all the misty, water-colored memories here. Scads of others also weighed in on the local places and things they miss the most. 

“Ward Brothers,” said a nice lady named Marilyn, “was a lovely department store on Lisbon Street. Many of the women who were the sales clerks there were of French Canadian heritage — impeccable hair, makeup and clothing… It was a wonderful experience.” 

A lady named Cynthia, whom I now will forever picture as wearing bell-bottom pants, tie-dye shirt and star-shaped sunglasses, misses the nightlife of the old days. 

“17 Park,” she puts in. “It was a discotheque back in the late ’70s. The Round House, and let’s not forget Circle Electric.” 

“Seavey’s Candy, out on Sabattus Street,” says Joe, presumably on his way to the dentist. “You could get a big box of Needhams irregulars for about $7, as I recall.” 

A lot of folks miss their favorite restaurants the most; places like Marois, East Street Deli, Korn Haus Keller, Cooper’s seafood, Steckino’s, Yianni’s, Chuck Wagon, Mama Rosa, Bonanza, York Steak House, No Tomatoes, Bagels & Things, Friend’s Deli, Chopsticks, Cathay Hut, Lobsterland, Jimmy’s all-night diner, the Ground Round … Really, it’s a long, long list and it spans several different local epochs. Some of those joints closed just a few years ago, others have been gone for decades. 

Others pine for Maineiacs hockey. Paradise Park. The Grand Orange head shop. The Lewiston Fairground. The Lisbon Street social clubs. Kmart, and particularly when it had a little diner at the back. They remember when every neighborhood had its own corner variety store and they have fond memories of places like McCrory on Park Street in Lewiston.

They SWEAR, these people do, that one could actually buy socks, a belt or a pair of shoes, in those days, without having to truck over to Auburn.

For others, it wasn’t so much a specific place they miss, but a kind of an old zeitgeist.  

A dude name Corey has loving, smoke-hazed memories of L&A Bowling Alley on Ash Street in Lewiston. 

“I remembered where all the cigarette machines were,” he said, “and quarter play pool.” 

A local named Bob, who clearly has the heart of a poet floating in a jar upon his desk, laments the death of Lisbon Street and an age where places like the Holly  and Peck’s department store made Lewiston a bustling place.

“There was once a time, in the heyday of our dwindling innocence, that the thing to do was walk that street after dark, occasionally sampling the vendors’ wares, sooner or later gravitating to Peck’s, another faded icon.” 

In that same nostalgic way, lots of people recalled a time when one could sit down for a counter meal at Woolworth’s before trucking on over to the Empire Theater for a flick. They recall with clarity the many joys of Peck’s department store — “and especially Peck’s at Christmastime.”

On and on it went, and by the time this Facebook thread surpassed 200 wistful comments about bygone eras, I realized at once that I’d bitten off more than I could chew here. 

When these excited folks started hauling out their photo albums and reaching back to the time of Kresge’s and Zayre department stores, I came to understand that this rickety column could never support the weight of all those memories, so here I leave you with one final line from Barbra Streisand. 

But now I see that I don’t know any other Barbra Streisand songs. 

Perhaps I’ll run down to Deorsey’s and pick up an album.