The news that Fort Lanes would be closing its doors permanently later this month brought back a flood of good memories. I spent many hours at what was Park Lanes back in my youth, trying to become the next Marshall Holman or Mark Roth.

Saturday mornings were special. My dad helped run the youth leagues, which filled the center’s 24 lanes for three different shifts. Those were unbelievable times when friendships were made and, even at that age, rivalries were born.

And believe me, these leagues were competitive, but when they were over a large group of us would head next door to the Pizza Inn, then often to one our houses to watch the PBA’s afternoon telecast on ABC. Sadly, in a few weeks, none of those options will be around.

AMF’s decision to close the center is purely a business move. Dollars and cents, recession and all that. It’s no different than Shaw closing its Ringgold plant or Home Depot closing several stores nationwide. These are tough times and corporations have a bottom line that they must adhere to.

But Fort Lanes? Man, the memories.

I’ll never forget the way former owner Sonny Hughes would give us kids nearly anything we wanted. Candy, Cokes, french fries, extra bowling, quarters for the pinball machines. One of my fondest memories is going behind the machines with my great-uncle, Bobby Raper, who spent three decades as the head mechanic, pro shop operator and good friend to all.

Bobby died in 1993 and, honestly, the place was never the same. His wife, Marsha, will be one of 13 current employees who will move to Tri-State in East Ridge or be out of a job. Bobby and Marsha met there. I can’t imagine the memories she will leave behind.

I was awestruck watching guys like Don Rossell, Gary Workman and Hughes shoot big scores in the day when big scores were not very common. Like the youth leagues, the adult leagues were always packed, and it wasn’t uncommon to see 10 or 15 guys stay there until the early hours of the morning for what was called pot bowling.

Fort Lanes was a safe haven for many of us back then. I guess any time an important part of your childhood goes away, it’s more than just sad. It’s a stark reminder that time moves on and that nothing in this day is more important than the bottom line to some people.

It’s a good bet some business will want to move into one of Fort Oglethorpe’s most visible buildings. Maybe the current owner will lure another bowling company into it. If not, the myriad of memories will be all that’s left.