The former Bob-In restaurant and lounge on Temple Street in Waterville, which has a long and colorful history in the city, will be no more when it is demolished to make way for apartment buildings. Amy Calder/Morning Sentinel

It’s sad to see old buildings that once housed reputable businesses being torn down; it’s even sad to see the demise of those with more storied pasts.

Take, for instance, the former often notorious Bob-In at the corner of Temple and Front streets in downtown Waterville, which was fodder for a lot of newspaper stories in its day.

The entrance to the former Bob-In restaurant and lounge on Temple Street in Waterville shown Monday, which has a long and colorful history in the city, will be no more when it is demolished to make way for apartment buildings. Amy Calder/Morning Sentinel

Open for decades under the ownership of Jibryne “Gubby” Karter until it was sold in 2015, renamed and then shuttered several years ago, the Bob-In began as a popular restaurant and lounge. Later, it became a hotbed of controversy as police responded there for everything from fist fights to topless dancing, the latter of which violated city rules.

The old landmark sits empty now, awaiting the same wrecking ball that took down buildings on either side of it to make way for the construction of modern, multi-story apartment buildings that will provide much-needed housing in the city.

Some might say good riddance to the brick-and-wood building marked with faded brown and tan paint, graffiti, broken windows and weeds growing out of the pavement.

But as I stood outside the building Monday, where so much change has occurred over recent years, including a new, modern RiverWalk to its east and a Colby College dormitory towering over downtown to its west, I found myself nostalgic about the Bob-In which, when gone, will take a lot of memories with it.

I recall riding in a police cruiser late one night some 25 years ago for a story I was writing about ongoing trouble in the wee hours of the morning downtown as drunk patrons spilled out of bars and got into brawls. The Bob-In was no exception.

Then, there was the news meeting I attended in 2002 where we discussed reports that the Bob-In was hosting topless dancing in violation of a city nudity ordinance that prohibited it in places where alcohol was sold and consumed. Our editor at the time looked around the table and asked which of us reporters was willing to go there late at night to see if the reports were true. No one offered so I, being the conscientious reporter I was, raised my hand. The only stipulation, the editor said, was that someone from the paper accompany me. A sports writer who worked the late shift volunteered.

I won’t go into detail about what we witnessed at the Bob-In, but suffice it to say there was topless dancing and other unsavory activity that opened my eyes to goings-on in the city to which I was decidedly ignorant.

I wrote a series of stories about the city’s efforts to get Karter to abide by the rules — which he did, sometimes, but continued the illegal activity. He was summonsed and fined for violations and then faced an ultimatum from the police chief — cease and desist or you’ll be shut down. Finally, he complied.

In 2015, tired and unwell, Karter sold the business, which reopened briefly under the name, “Temple Street Tavern.” A colorful character who was always good for a pithy quote, Karter also was known for his generosity to those less fortunate. He died four years ago at 75.

Back in 2003, an HBO movie crew came to the city to film “Empire Falls,” based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning book by Maine author Richard Russo and starring Paul Newman, Ed Harris and Helen Hunt.

They chose the Bob-In as the set for Callahan’s Bar and, with Karter’s permission, remade the interior and stuck a sign outside that changed the name to Callahan’s. The day Hunt was to arrive on the set, a higher-ups on the film crew who often helped me land interviews with cast members and get into places that were off-limits, told me to forget trying to talk to Hunt as she was adamantly averse to interviews.

She would be arriving shortly in the parking lot across Front Street at Head of Falls, he said, and would be flanked by heavy security.

On cue, Hunt appeared, surrounded by a cadre of muscled men, including police. They moved up the sidewalk to the Bob-In where not a single spectator approached her or even appeared to notice. I remember chuckling to myself that she might not be as sought after as she imagined, while other cast members were more amiable and accessible.

I’ll share one more memory, from very long ago. I was 13 in 1969 and growing up in Skowhegan, when my future brother-in-law invited me and a couple of childhood friends to take a ride in his black 1938 Buick Special sedan. Excited at the prospect, I climbed into the back seat and after we took off, watched the pavement spin by through a hole in the floor the size of a record album.

We cruised into Waterville, and my sister’s financé said we would stop for lunch at a special place called the Bob-In. The name didn’t mean anything to me at the time and it wasn’t until decades later that I made the connection. In retrospect, I was some glad I never told my mother where we dined that day.

When the former Bob-In goes away, it will be the end of an era, an era defined by a street corner downtown that holds many tales, both famous and infamous.

Amy Calder has been a Morning Sentinel reporter 36 years. Her columns appear here Saturdays. She is the author of the book, “Comfort is an Old Barn,” a collection of her curated columns, published in 2023 by Islandport Press. She may be reached at acalder@centralmaine.com. For previous Reporting Aside columns, go to centralmaine.com