The Mines They Left

“Nobody’s one big happy family, but we make the best of all our situations,” Roberts says.

Those who remain face a commute--to work, to buy groceries, to watch a movie--the main reason Roberts says people move away. Her childhood haunts, the Ellody diner, Bill’s Lunch and the movie theater, are gone. Even the post office is a town away, a point of contention for many residents; last year, the building that housed the office was deemed unsafe, and it closed. A video store now operates out of the same building.

“Everything that’s in this town, we have to fight to keep it,” Roberts says. “All the other
communities around here have a post office and a library—that’s all
we’ve got left.”

Shawnee is a shadow of its former self. In 1872, the town was carved out of a hill in the mineral-rich southeast Ohio region, along railroad tracks to coal mines, and twenty years later it boasted a population of 3,266. The town has steadily emptied since then, down to 608 residents, according to the 2000 United States Census.

“I would describe it as probably the best standing example of a boom mining town in the eastern United States,” says John Winnenberg, owner of the Community Exchange Gift Shop at 117 W. Main St., and a member of the Sunday Creek Associates, a community development nonprofit.

“[Shawnee is] an outstanding example of a rural community that’s
in the midst of the struggle between decay and restoration and trying
to find a future for itself in a society where rural communities are all
struggling unless they’re within close proximity of urban development,”
Winnenberg says. “I think we’re probably much more experienced at
that struggle than a lot of rural communities; decline’s been going on
here since the 1930s. A lot of places didn’t see that decline until the
60s, 70s and 80s.”

One business that has weathered the decline is Hannah Brothers Furniture and Appliances. Owner Bob Hannah says customers travel from all over the surrounding counties because of the company’s business and service.

Hannah’s grandfather, Don, and his brother Norvall, opened the business as a wallpaper and paint store in 1928. During the 30s, the store expanded to appliances and then furniture. Bob’s father, Lionel and uncle, Bruce, took over. When Lionel died in 1980, the store fell into Bob’s hands.

At the time, he was living in New Lexington, aspiring to study music and teach lessons.

“My uncle looked at me and said ‘Either you buy the store by January or I’m going to liquidate
it,’” Hannah recalls.

In the end, Hannah says his decision had less to do with carrying
on the family legacy than with the fact that his wife was eight months
pregnant and that he saw financial stability in the business.

“It was what I knew how to do,” Hannah said. “It was easy to foresee a good future."

Hannah’s son, Shawn, is 22, and the best bet for carrying on the family business. “I told him, ‘don’t buy it because of me, buy it because you want to,’” Bob says, recalling the way the businesses fell into his own lap. “I don’t want
him to feel obligated. It’s not about the family.
It’s got to be about you, because it’s your life. You marry it.”

It’s a marriage Bob says he doesn’t regret.

“I wouldn’t trade how my life went for anything,” Bob says, and
adds that the future for the business looks bright, as the nearest town,
New Lexington, doesn’t have a furniture store. “The market’s pretty
open right here.”

“This is my 25th year in business by myself and my best two years
were 2006 and 2007,” he says, though he is now facing a decline as
the national economy weakens.