Farewell Dover Mall, Hello Progress

The small blue sign seems harmless enough; it’s even kind of inviting, encouraging all business owners interested in joining the “New Dover Mall” to call the number listed.

And while the oddly configured grouping of retail space at the corner of Routes 166 and 37 that constituted the original Dover Mall has been half empty for the better part of two decades, I’m deeply concerned that the developers behind this sign are going to level everything and insert some pretentious “lifestyle center” with big name anchor stores that sell two hundred dollar sauce pans or other unnecessarily expensive nonsense to smarmy generation x-ers.

It’s not that I’m against progress or retail. I guess I’m just hoping Toms River wouldn’t become the home of another glistening shopping plaza like the Holmdel Commons (I’m sorry, The Commons at Holmdel) or the new mega-center in Tinton Falls. One of the best things about growing up in Toms River was the bizarre, independent, even semi-post-apocalyptic shopping centers like the Dover Mall.

So, before its ruins are paved over and a P.F. Chang’s sits where Halloween Headquarters used to be, I feel inclined to pay homage to the original Dover Mall.

To begin, no account of the Dover Mall would be complete without discussing the area of the main strip known as Bradlees alley. For whatever reason, the architects of the shopping center thought it would be smart to orient the largest and most heavily trafficked department store with its doors facing neither of the major highways surrounding it.

Instead, the entrance to Bradlees was down a long alleyway directly opposite a number of small storefronts inhabited by a dry cleaners and delicatessen, among others. I guess they were attempting to create a pseudo-“downtown” where patrons could commune and window shop. The only problem was the narrow alley let in relatively no natural light and the whole place was eerily reminiscent of the alley where Batman’s parents were shot. As such, the “downtown” was soon vacant and for years the Dover Mall was left with a Bradlees that faced nothing.

Across the parking lot from Bradlees alley was an annex to the plaza with a combination of stores that Toms River residents, or residents of any town, will likely never see together again. Traversing from one side of the annex to the other, a gentleman shopper could receive a straight razor shave, have his shoes cobbled, and indulge in a fine South American cigar. In addition, an abnormally large gentleman shopper could purchase a pair of trousers at one of the only “big and tall” shops around.

All things aside, the crown jewel of the Dover Mall annex was unquestionably the Dover Lowes movie theater. Whether or not it was actually affiliated with the chain of clean, respectable Lowes theaters is questionable. Housing only two screening rooms, each roughly the size of a garage, the Dover Lowes showed first-run movies that had stopped being shown at larger theaters weeks or sometimes months earlier. Couldn’t find the time to catch that big summer blockbuster and hate handing out candy to trick-or-treaters? The Dover Lowes had you covered. I literally watched Kevin Costner butcher an English accent in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves trick-or-treat one October.

Since they only charged two dollars for admission there was never any guilt in paying to see such cinematic gems as Weekend at Bernie’s 2, Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey, and the entire Ernest catalogue. It was almost as cheap as renting a vending machine DVD is now but with the added ambiance of sticky floors and stale popcorn. But, as movie studios began shortening the turnaround from theater to home video and premium cable networks like HBO grew, the Dover Lowes couldn’t find its place in the changing world.

Finally, in what is perhaps the biggest blow to Toms River’s rich cultural heritage, the Old Time Tavern was demolished some time ago in order to make room for the construction of the “New” Dover Mall. Some purists may say that free-standing outliers like the Old Time Tavern are not technically part of strip mall; however, the Old Time Tavern’s status as an unofficial local landmark makes it a necessary addition to this column.

For those who have never been to the Old Time Tavern, I will try to paint you a picture. It was one of those places where you were guaranteed to wait 45 minutes for a table and neither you nor the hostess cared one bit. It was one of those places where the murmur of family conversations melded smoothly with the footfalls of the wedding party dancing in the hall upstairs on a Saturday evening. It was one of those places where they skewered the maraschino cherry in your shirley temple with a tiny plastic sword. In short, it was a real restaurant, reminiscent of an era where men wore jackets to dinner and ate their steak a little too rare.

For decades, the Old Time Tavern was a place that gave Toms River some of its soul, our own incarnation of the local joints north Jersey towns are so protective of. Now, the hallowed ground where the Old Time Taverns oak barrel-lined steps once stood is little more than a plowed lot soon to be the home of a shinier restaurant boasting half-price appetizers, but no character.

So as the wrecking balls raze the old Dover Mall, I’m left with a tremendous feeling of loss. Sure, I haven’t patronized a store in that place in years, helping contribute to its downfall; and, yes, I will likely join the rest of you on line at the forthcoming “World Class” Shop Rite or waste countless hours at a chain bookstore. But the overly nostalgia part of me wishes there was still a place like the old Dover Mall in this world. A place where the building’s facade and orientation aren’t mandated by somebody in Arkansas. A place where catching Look Who’s Talking on the big screen seems worth the price. A place where the restaurants are dimly lit, not by an aesthetic choice, but because the lighting fixtures are covered with years of nicotine buildup. I worry that my children will only know big box stores, super centers, and outlets. I worry that my town is losing something that set it apart from the Freeholds and Middletowns of the world. But mostly, I worry where all those abnormally large gentlemen shoppers are going to purchase their trousers.