The End of a Cool Era

I remember when Merivale Road used to be only two lanes. But it must have only been for a short period.

When I was four, I learned how to ride a bicycle. I was living in the garden homes between Chesterton Drive and Bowhill Avenue, behind what was then the K-Mart Plaza, which included a Dominion grocery store, a TD bank, a Living Lighting store, Giglio's barber shop, Gow's Chinese take out, and a Brewer's Retail.

I've written about this old neighbourhood before, with some aerial shots from 1976 for reference.

Across the street from this shopping plaza were single-unit homes, which were separated by the two-lane Merivale Road. I remember riding my bike along this street, which, in 1969, didn't see much traffic. It wasn't the bustling thoroughfare of consumerism that it is today.

When the road widened to four lanes, a few years later, but still before the field was cleared for where the Merivale Mall now stands, my friends and I would have to look both ways and run across the street—often holding hands—to get to a little convenience store, Darly's, where we would spend our allowance on candies, chips, and pop, or buy either hockey or baseball trading cards.

I never watched either sport but all my friends collected the cards, so I did too.

There were two other places, further north on Merivale Road, where my parents would take my sister and me for an occasional treat: one was the Red Barn, a fast-food chain that preceded McDonalds on this strip; and, further up, where Merivale would bend but you had to make a left turn to get onto Clyde Avenue (today, you just have to stay straight, where Merivale meets Lotta Avenue), there was our ice-cream favourite spot: Dairy Queen.

Image: Google Maps street view.

This was not a Brazier Dairy Queen, meaning you couldn't get burgers or fries, or most other hot eats, though you could get a chili-cheese hot dog. It was the cool treats that made it popular and upon which it focused.

Also, for the longest time, it was only one of two DQs in Ottawa that kept its old signage. In the 90s, it eventually updated its sign, leaving the shop at St. Laurent Blvd. and Hemlock Road the last of the nostalgic holdouts.

Image: sfgamchick, via Openly.

My family loved going to the Merivale Road Dairy Queen. My favourite treat would be a green Mr. Misty Float—or as my dad called it, "a Mr. Misty with a blob on top." It was a lime-flavoured drink with vanilla ice cream that floated above it. I would let the ice cream melt and stir it into the drink, and sip it through a straw.

Ah, to be a kid again.

In my teens, my friends and I would often ride our bikes or walk to the DQ. Often, we'd grab a burger at Harvey's, which was further up Merivale, at Baseline Road, and then go to DQ for dessert.

Ah, to be an easy-going teen again.

As I got older and had my own car, we'd make the DQ almost a weekly summer event. Because this DQ wasn't a Brazier, it was only open from about the end of March to the end of September. But every time we went, there was always a long lineup that almost turned into a party scene. My friends and I would almost always run into someone we knew, and chatting it up with people made the lineup seem short.

DW and her best friend still like to build up and joke about a time that we went to DQ, when DW and I were just starting to date. While I was driving us to the spot, DW and her friend talked about what they were going to get, and then asked me what I was going to get.

Casually, I said, "I'll probably get my usual." In my early 20s, my usual was simply a chocolate milkshake, but in my response, they both let out an "Ooh!" as though my usual had suddenly become a great mystery.

The both laughed when, at the counter, I ordered my shake.

"We thought you were getting something extravagant," DW said.

Her friend started to mock me, saying, "I'll have... my usual..." dropping her tone at "my usual," making it sound seductive.

Every time they recount this story, the "my usual" part gets more and more exaggerated.

Even to this day, I roll my eyes when they start to tell this story again.

It was only the other month, as I was heading to the Merivale Photography Studio, just a few doors down from the DQ, that I noticed that the sign was bare of the DQ logo, that the words Dairy Queen were cut out from the sides of the building that has stood there for about 60 years.

At first, I didn't think much about it. After all, it was before the ice-cream shop normally opens for the season, and I thought that perhaps they were updating the sign and the lettering on the building. But last week, at the end of April, when I drove by the DQ and no one was there, I was curious.

DW and I were meeting a friend for dinner at Alirang Korean Restaurant, a few doors away, where a Dunkin Donuts used to be, long ago. After dinner, the three of us walked to the DQ, and DW and I realized that we were face to face with the end of an era.

A sign informed us that it was closed. Inside, not only did it look deserted, it looked abandoned. The menu board was missing its panels that listed all of the treats. It looked like appliances had been pulled off of the walls.

There would be no Mr. Misty Floats, no chocolate milkshakes.

After about 60 years, the Merivale Road Dairy Queen is dead.

I wonder what will replace it. Will someone tear it down and build something new? Will somebody occupy the space and run a shop with take-out windows like this DQ did?

Because my photo club always has something going on at the photo studio, nearby, I'll keep an eye on the lot at the bend in Merivale Road, where it intersects with Clyde Avenue.