Farewell, Neighbor: Love for 810 Meadworks
Our hearts are heavy tonight. So, so heavy.
Just a few hours ago, 810 Meadworks posted to their legion of devoted followers that they would be closing their doors, both 810 Meadworks and 810 Axes – effective immediately.
Do you know how long it’s been since we posted? Too long. But this one feels too important, too much to process, that we simply must break the silence to pay our dear friends across the hall in the Newell building a bit of respect.
A quick story: sometime in late August 2016, just days after moving home to Medina from Washington DC, Scott and I were strolling down Main Street on a Friday morning, popping into all of the shops and businesses we had followed from afar. All of the sudden we heard a voice shout out from a passing truck “welcome home!” – Bryan DeGraw, owner of 810. Scott and I looked at each other, amazed by the warmth of this small community, this outpouring of love from a soon-to-be friend. It was that moment that we felt completely “home”.
We’re sure he doesn’t know how significant that one formative gesture was to our new life here in Medina. But that’s exactly who he is. He and his wonderful wife Larissa are the epitome of modesty – those that need not boast or posture but are so incredibly powerful in making impressions on us that last a lifetime. When we bought Shirt Factory and moved in across the hall, Bryan was always a friendly face, a supporter, a mentor in the small business community. Our first collaborative event was a cocktail competition featuring 810 Meadworks mead and it was a raging success – a testament to people’s love of 810.
Here’s the thing – 2020 will continue to have devastating effects on our community. I remember the conversations, the withdrawn looks, the defeat, the exhaustion. I’ll never forget the exchanges we had during that time with Bryan, the moments we both felt on the brink of closure. But we kept on keeping on – and while most people felt that we had weathered the storm, the internal effects are reflective of our closing the cafe program at the Factory and Bryan’s decision to close Meadworks. But the truth is, if Bryan hadn’t brought something as niche and special as mead in Medina, who knows how our cocktails would have been received. We credit Bryan with so much, and will continue to do so.
In addition to hosting the wedding rehearsal party at 810 the night before we married, for years Scott and I have joined my sister Adrienne and brother-in-law Evan in to celebrate New Year’s Eve with a mini bar crawl in Medina before retiring home to watch the ball drop. Every year, we end at 810 Meadworks to close out that year, toasting to all the hope and promise to come. I don’t know what we’ll do now, but it will never be the same. Some of my favorite NYEs have been spent cozied up to the bar, sipping my Ghost of Mary.
Sadly, between Covid, pregnancy, infancy with Roux, and drowning in those damn dishes at the Factory, we haven’t had our time at 810 in the recent years as we used to. But a few weeks ago, Scott and I stole away for 30 minutes (with Roux in tow) to finally sit at that counter and delight in my usual – the Ghost of Mary. I am so, so thankful that we made the time, sat on those stools, sipped that mead. I can’t imagine how devastated others will be this weekend when those seats are vacant and the lights are dark.
On a personal note – I run the kitchen every weekend late into the night at Shirt Factory – our kitchen shares a wall with 810. While I’m prepping and cooking, I listen to the cacophony of sounds emanating from Meadworks – loving patrons, friends, neighbors. I have come to recognize the muffled voices, sing along on vinyl night as I’m doing dishes, enjoy the sounds from the bee garten during live music events. We won’t see Tim pop in before groups arrive to throw axes, heckle us lovingly about our dessert and chat about all things Medina. It’s comfortable. It’s “normal”. I’m just sad to lose that bit of constancy in a world of so much turbulence.
Bryan, Larissa, Tim – our hearts are with you and we know this is not the end you wanted. It’s our sincere hope that you know we support you in every decision, always, and are proud of you for pouring yourselves so completely into the fabric of our community. You are friends for life, and we will never forget your kindness or your unwavering support. Please feel every ounce of love and energy from the outpouring of adoration from your countless fans and know you will be missed.
Love to you always friends, best of luck on the next chapter. <3