An unforgettable Cincinnati restaurant, a family business in turmoil, a court-appointed receiver, bankruptcy, and the mysterious transition from David's to Tommy's Buffet.
Corporate House Takeover | Episode 9
Okay, I know.
This isn't a house.
But hear me out.
Sometimes the most fascinating histories aren't hiding behind the doors of an old Victorian home or buried beneath the rubble of a demolished farmhouse.
Sometimes they're hiding behind the doors of a restaurant where generations of Cincinnati families gathered for Sunday dinners, wedding anniversaries, holiday celebrations, and second—or third—trips through the buffet line.
And this particular restaurant has been gone for decades.
Yet mention the name David's Buffet to someone who grew up around Cincinnati, and there's a good chance they'll remember it.
Maybe their grandparents took them there.
Maybe they celebrated a birthday or anniversary.
Maybe they remember the food, the dining room, or a waitress who always seemed to recognize them.
Or maybe they simply remember that wonderful era when you could take an entire family out for dinner without feeling like you needed to refinance the house afterward.
Whatever the memory, David's Buffet clearly meant something to this community.
Which is why, when Steve Joern suggested that I investigate whatever happened to Cincinnati's beloved David's Buffet, I thought it sounded like a fun little trip down memory lane.
Find a few old advertisements.
Maybe uncover some photographs.
Figure out when it opened and when it closed.
Write a nice nostalgic story.
Simple enough, right?
Oh, how adorable of me.
Because what began as an investigation into a forgotten Cincinnati restaurant eventually led me through decades of corporate records, property documents, tax liens, lawsuits, a court-appointed receiver, bankruptcy proceedings, and a legal dispute involving the restaurant's landlord and the company that would replace it.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, I discovered that the man behind Tommy's Buffet had been publicly identified as a proprietor of David's nearly twenty years earlier.
Well.
That certainly made things interesting.
So, Steve, thank you for sending me down this particular rabbit hole.
And welcome to what might be our first official Corporate Restaurant Takeover.
Because the story of David's Buffet is considerably more complicated than a restaurant simply closing its doors.
A Cincinnati Tradition Begins
To understand what happened to David's Buffet, we first need to understand what it was.
For generations of Cincinnati residents, David's represented a style of dining that has become increasingly difficult to find.
It was a smorgasbord.
And if you're too young to remember when that word appeared regularly in restaurant advertisements, allow me to explain.
Imagine walking into a restaurant where the primary objective was to provide you with an almost unreasonable amount of food for one set price.
Roast beef.
Fried chicken.
Ham.
Turkey.
Vegetables.
Salads.
Desserts.
And enough choices to ensure that even the pickiest person in your family could find something to eat.
It was a wonderful concept.
Especially for families.
Nobody had to agree on a single type of food.
Nobody had to spend the afternoon cooking.
And nobody had to worry about ordering something they didn't like.
You simply went back to the buffet.
Problem solved.
According to a service-mark registration filed years later by Whitenack Restaurants Inc., the David's Buffet name was first used on March 1, 1962.
Now, that filing doesn't independently establish the restaurant's exact opening date.
But it does provide an important starting point.
And what I found from later that same year was absolutely fantastic.
A Jukebox Party in 1962
On November 3, 1962, David's Buffet hosted a premiere showing of new Rock-Ola jukebox models for Bigner Music.
Representatives from amusement and vending companies traveled from Cincinnati, Dayton, Springfield, and surrounding communities to attend.
The event was featured in the December 8, 1962 issue of Cash Box, a national trade magazine covering the music and amusement industries.
And here's what made this discovery particularly exciting.
There were photographs.
Actual photographs of David's Buffet in operation in 1962.
One image showed guests gathered for the event.
Another captured food being served buffet-style.
For someone who spends an unreasonable amount of time researching buildings that no longer exist, finding photographs like these is the equivalent of striking gold.
Newspaper advertisements are wonderful.
Property records are useful.
But photographs?
Photographs let us step inside.
For a moment, we can see the people, the atmosphere, and a small piece of everyday life that would otherwise be lost.
And in this case, we weren't simply looking at an old restaurant.
We were looking at David's Buffet near the beginning of its long history in Cincinnati.
By November 1964, advertisements were promoting David's Buffet Smorgasbord in both Evendale and Mt. Washington.
The business had expanded beyond a single dining room.
And the corporate records were beginning to take shape.
Meet the Whitenacks
On October 7, 1964, Whitenack Restaurants Inc. was incorporated in Ohio.
Subsequent corporate documents identified Robert G. Whitenack as president and Lillian M. Whitenack as secretary and treasurer.
The Whitenack name would remain connected to the restaurant's corporate history for decades.
And that becomes especially important later.
But during the early years, David's was building a reputation around a fairly straightforward idea.
Good food.
Plenty of it.
One price.
An early matchbook advertised lunch for $1.45 and dinner for $2.50.
I'll give you a moment to recover from that.
Granted, those prices belonged to an entirely different economy, but there's something almost offensive about comparing them with what it costs to take a family out for dinner today.
And David's wasn't simply attracting customers because of its prices.
It was becoming a familiar part of Cincinnati's social life.
More Than Just a Buffet
One of the things I love most about historical newspaper research is discovering how often ordinary businesses appear in the personal milestones of the people who lived around them.
Sometimes a restaurant advertisement tells you what was on the menu.
But an anniversary announcement tells you something much more meaningful.
It tells you where people chose to celebrate.
And David's appeared in those announcements again and again.
By the 1970s, the restaurant was advertising locations along Reading Road in Evendale and Bridgetown Road in Western Hills.
An Easter advertisement from April 1977 offered an impressive selection of food, including steamed round of beef, fried chicken, baked white fish, baked ham, roasted turkey, shrimp cocktail, salads, appetizers, chopped chicken liver pâté, and desserts.
And that's just what the advertisement listed.
I'm fairly certain nobody was leaving hungry.
But what interested me most wasn't the menu.
It was the people.
In April 1970, Phillip Schmerr and his wife celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary with a dinner at David's.
Other anniversary announcements followed, including celebrations involving the Hemberger and Epperson families.
Think about that.
Fifty years of marriage.
Half a century of building a life together.
And when it came time to celebrate, the family chose David's Buffet.
That's not simply a restaurant transaction.
That's a memory.
And the newspaper archives are full of similar reminders that David's was woven into Cincinnati's community life.
Church gatherings.
Club meetings.
Professional organizations.
Family celebrations.
In 1992 alone, newspaper notices connected David's with a senior golf league, a church fashion show, an occupational health nurses' gathering, and a meeting of the American Society for Materials International.
That April, more than 100 former WLW-AM employees were expected to attend a retirees' reunion at the restaurant.
Imagine the conversations around those tables.
Former coworkers catching up.
Families celebrating milestones.
Old friends sharing stories.
And somewhere nearby, someone making another trip to the buffet because they weren't quite ready to leave.
This is the part of the story that court records can never fully capture.
David's wasn't just a corporation.
It was a place where Cincinnati made memories.
David's and Cincinnati's Sporting Culture
The restaurant also found its way into Cincinnati's sports history.
In 1966, a broadcasting industry publication identified David's Buffet as a sponsor of a Cincinnati Reds radio postgame feature called Star of the Game.
And in October 1983, David's appeared among the restaurants participating in Kahn's Bengals-themed Show Your Stripes promotion.
Those little connections might seem insignificant today.
But they show just how firmly the restaurant had established itself in the community.
David's wasn't an obscure little business operating quietly in the background.
Its name appeared in advertisements, newspaper announcements, sporting promotions, and local events for decades.
And then there are the stories that survive only in people's memories.
During our research, we came across a Facebook recollection from Greg Duvall about a waitress named Rosie.
According to that recollection, Rosie had spoken about serving entertainers Red Skelton and Judy Garland.
Now, I wasn't able to independently verify those celebrity visits.
So I'm not going to tell you Judy Garland definitely sat down at David's Buffet for dinner.
But I love that the memory survived.
Because when people reminisce about restaurants like David's, they rarely begin by discussing the corporate structure.
They remember the waitresses.
The food.
The familiar faces.
The atmosphere.
The people who made the restaurant feel special.
And for many years, David's continued doing exactly that.
But behind the buffet line, the business was changing.
And a few names began appearing in the historical record that would become extremely important.
Remember These Two Names
In October 1976, a newspaper feature discussing renovations at David's identified two men as proprietors.
Michael Schwartz.
And Thomas Ducey Jr.
At first, this seemed like a fairly ordinary discovery.
Restaurants change management.
Businesses bring in new partners.
People come and go.
Nothing particularly suspicious about that.
But as I continued tracing the company's history, those names kept resurfacing.
And nearly two decades later, one of them would appear at the center of the transition from David's Buffet to Tommy's Buffet.
The 1976 article establishes that Schwartz and Ducey were publicly associated with operating David's.
What it doesn't establish is exactly how ownership of Whitenack Restaurants Inc. was divided or what financial arrangements existed between the individuals involved.
That's an important distinction.
Being identified as a proprietor in a newspaper doesn't automatically establish ownership of corporate shares.
And when we're investigating complicated business transactions, those distinctions matter.
By 1991, Michael Schwartz was identified as vice president of Whitenack Restaurants Inc. on a recorded lease.
Lillian Whitenack was identified as president.
And the property involved was the familiar restaurant at 10784 Reading Road in Evendale.
The landlord was Joseph F. Rippe, acting as trustee and doing business as Northern Enterprises.
The lease began September 1, 1991, with an initial five-year term.
On paper, that arrangement suggested David's would continue operating at the location for years.
But while the lease was being recorded, another set of documents was beginning to tell a much less reassuring story.
Trouble Behind the Buffet Line
On October 8, 1991, a federal tax lien was recorded against Whitenack Restaurants Inc.
The amount was $30,540.14.
The notice concerned employment-tax liabilities associated with periods ending in December 1990 and March 1991.
Around the same time, supplier liens were recorded against two David's Buffet locations.
Instantwhip-Dayton claimed $2,326.44 associated with the Reading Road restaurant and another $1,877.53 associated with a David's location on West Ohio Pike.
Now, these records don't tell us everything about the company's finances.
They don't establish whether the restaurants were profitable.
They don't explain the internal accounting.
And they certainly don't tell us what was happening in every dining room.
But they do establish that creditors and taxing authorities were asserting claims against the business.
And unfortunately for David's, things were about to get worse.
Much worse.
1992: When Everything Started Falling Apart
By the beginning of 1992, the financial and legal problems surrounding Whitenack Restaurants were multiplying.
In January, Jacob Bros Heating & Air Conditioning filed a claim involving $4,182.
In February, Whitenack Restaurants filed a lawsuit against its landlord, Joseph Rippe.
And by June, the restaurant had asked the court for permission to pay rent into court while repairs to the leased premises were addressed.
That last detail caught my attention.
Because now the dispute wasn't simply about unpaid bills.
The restaurant and its landlord were fighting over the building itself and obligations associated with the lease.
The surviving court docket establishes that the dispute involved rent and repairs.
It doesn't establish which party was ultimately responsible for every condition alleged.
But the relationship had clearly become contentious enough to involve the courts.
And as if that weren't enough, another lawsuit had already been filed.
This time, the dispute involved people connected to the business itself.
A Family Name, a Corporate Officer, and a Courtroom
On March 9, 1992, David G. Whitenack and Barbara Ann Baker filed a lawsuit against Michael E. Schwartz and Whitenack Restaurants Inc.
Now we're getting somewhere.
The Whitenack name had been associated with the corporation since the 1960s.
Schwartz had been publicly identified as one of David's proprietors in 1976.
By 1991, he was serving as corporate vice president.
And now individuals connected to that history were appearing on opposing sides of a lawsuit.
Naturally, I wanted to know everything.
What caused the disagreement?
What were the plaintiffs alleging?
Was the dispute about ownership?
Management?
Money?
Something else entirely?
Unfortunately, this is where historical research occasionally decides to be a complete pain in the ass.
The original complaint wasn't publicly accessible through the records available to us.
And without that complaint, I can't responsibly tell you exactly what the dispute concerned.
The court docket identifies the parties and subsequent proceedings, but it doesn't give us the complete underlying story.
Still, what happened next was significant.
In September 1992, the plaintiffs filed a motion seeking a receiver and an injunction.
Receivership proceedings followed.
And that was a major development.
What Exactly Is a Receiver?
For anyone unfamiliar with the term, a receiver is a person appointed by a court to take control of specified property or business affairs under the court's authority.
Receiverships can occur for different reasons, depending on the circumstances and the court's orders.
But they're not something a business ordinarily encounters during a perfectly routine Tuesday afternoon.
By late 1992, David's was dealing with litigation involving its landlord, creditors, taxing authorities, and individuals connected to the corporation.
The Cincinnati Business Courier obtained a judgment involving $2,960, although that judgment was subsequently satisfied.
Kraft Inc. was also pursuing litigation involving companies doing business as David's Buffet.
The surviving records reveal a business under pressure from several directions.
And as the calendar turned to 1993, the situation was approaching a turning point.
One that would change the restaurant's future.
February 1993: The Beginning of the End
On February 8, 1993, the court entered an order authorizing the receiver to terminate restaurant operations.
An amended authorization followed on February 17.
Let that sink in.
After decades of serving Cincinnati families, David's Buffet had reached the point where a court-appointed receiver was authorized to terminate its operations.
Now, I haven't established the exact final day customers were served under the David's name.
And the publicly available docket doesn't provide the full text of the receiver's order.
But the authorization itself is documented.
And the timing is important.
Because just days later, the records reveal another development.
On February 16, suggestions of bankruptcy appeared in court proceedings involving Whitenack Restaurants.
Then, on February 22, 1993, a newspaper bankruptcy listing identified Whitenack Restaurants Inc., also known as David's Buffet, in Chapter 11 bankruptcy proceedings.
Chapter 11 is generally associated with reorganizing a business's financial affairs.
But filing under Chapter 11 doesn't guarantee that a company will successfully reorganize or continue operating.
And we haven't recovered the underlying federal bankruptcy case file, so the eventual disposition of those proceedings remains unverified.
What we do know is that by February 1993, David's had reached an extraordinary crossroads.
A receiver had been authorized to terminate operations.
The corporation was appearing in bankruptcy reporting.
And the familiar Reading Road restaurant was about to become home to another buffet.
Which brings us to the part of this investigation that made me stop and stare at my computer.
Enter Tommy's Buffet
Let's rewind just a few months.
On November 12, 1992, while David's was still entangled in its financial and legal troubles, another Ohio corporation was formed.
Its name was LEET Inc.
In February 1993, LEET registered the trade name Tommy's Buffet.
The registration claimed that the name was first used on February 18, 1993.
Now, take a look at those dates.
February 17, 1993: An amended court authorization concerning the termination of David's operations.
February 18, 1993: The claimed first-use date for Tommy's Buffet.
One day apart.
Interesting, isn't it?
Now, before anyone gets carried away, a first-use date on a trade-name registration doesn't independently prove the exact date a restaurant opened its doors to the public.
And the proximity of those dates doesn't establish that anyone did anything improper.
But it certainly made me curious about how the transition was arranged.
So I kept digging.
And then I found the name of LEET Inc.'s president.
E. Thomas Ducey Jr.
Wait a minute.
Thomas Ducey?
As in the Thomas Ducey who had been identified alongside Michael Schwartz as a proprietor of David's Buffet back in 1976?
Yes.
That Thomas Ducey.
Well, now.
This just got considerably more interesting.
Because Tommy's Buffet wasn't simply a new restaurant name associated with an entirely unfamiliar operator.
At least one person publicly connected with David's management nearly two decades earlier was now leading the corporation behind Tommy's.
And suddenly, the transition between the two restaurants became much more complicated than I had originally imagined.
What we still don't know is whether Ducey held an ownership interest in Whitenack Restaurants, how LEET's ownership was structured, or precisely which business assets may have moved between the companies.
Those details matter.
Because the next chapter involved an outright legal dispute over property.
A New Lease. The Same Building. And Another Lawsuit.
On April 1, 1993, a new lease commenced for the restaurant premises at 10784–10788 Reading Road.
The landlord was once again Joseph Rippe.
But the tenant was no longer Whitenack Restaurants Inc.
It was LEET Inc., doing business as Tommy's Buffet.
The initial lease term extended through March 31, 1998, with options for additional terms.
So by April 1993, a new corporate tenant had secured the location formerly occupied by David's.
But the legal problems surrounding the old restaurant weren't over.
Not even close.
On April 9, 1993, Whitenack Restaurants Inc., doing business as David's Buffet, filed another lawsuit.
This time, the defendants included Joseph Rippe, Stanley S. Straus, S. Charles Straus, and LEET Inc., doing business as Tommy's Buffet.
The case was classified as a replevin action.
And if you're wondering what that means, you're not alone.
A replevin action is generally a legal proceeding used to seek the recovery of personal property.
In other words, this wasn't simply another disagreement about rent.
The lawsuit involved a claim concerning property.
The filing also sought emergency injunctive relief.
Now, consider the timeline.
April 1: Tommy's new lease begins.
April 9: David's corporation files a lawsuit involving the landlord and the company behind Tommy's.
April 16: The court dissolves a temporary restraining order and denies a preliminary injunction.
April 21: The docket records a report of sale and an order confirming a sale.
April 29: The case is dismissed.
And this, my friends, is where I encountered one of the most frustrating unanswered questions of the entire investigation.
What exactly was sold?
To whom?
Under what terms?
Was restaurant equipment involved?
Fixtures?
Other business property?
Unfortunately, the underlying sale order and associated filings weren't available for us to examine.
And without those documents, I cannot establish what property was included in the sale or who ultimately acquired it.
I also cannot establish that LEET purchased particular assets or that anyone unlawfully took possession of property.
Those would be serious conclusions, and the records available to us don't justify making them.
But what we can establish is still remarkable.
David's corporation filed a lawsuit involving the landlord and Tommy's during the same month that Tommy's new lease began.
That lawsuit concerned the recovery of personal property.
And the court subsequently confirmed a sale before the case was dismissed.
That's considerably more complicated than a restaurant simply changing its name.
Was This a Takeover?
At this point, I know what some of you are thinking.
Was David's Buffet taken over?
And the answer depends on what we mean by taken over.
We can establish that David's operated for decades under Whitenack Restaurants Inc.
We can establish that the corporation faced financial claims, tax liens, and litigation during the early 1990s.
We can establish that a dispute with the landlord involved rent and repairs.
We can establish that another lawsuit resulted in receivership proceedings and court authorization to terminate restaurant operations.
We can establish that Whitenack Restaurants appeared in Chapter 11 bankruptcy reporting.
And we can establish that LEET Inc., led by a man previously identified as a proprietor of David's, became the new tenant operating Tommy's Buffet at the same Reading Road location.
Finally, we can establish that David's corporation filed a lawsuit involving the landlord and Tommy's during the transition, and that a court-confirmed sale appeared in those proceedings.
That's a substantial amount of documented history.
But here's what we cannot establish.
We cannot prove that anyone deliberately forced David's out through unlawful conduct.
We cannot prove that restaurant assets were improperly transferred.
And we cannot establish the full circumstances of the transition without the underlying court and bankruptcy documents.
I know.
That's not the dramatic courtroom revelation everyone wants.
But historical research doesn't work that way.
Sometimes the records answer our questions.
Sometimes they raise even more.
And sometimes the most responsible conclusion is simply that the evidence doesn't yet establish what happened behind the scenes.
Fortunately, the documented story is already interesting enough without inventing a villain.
The Story Didn't End When Tommy's Opened
The receivership associated with the earlier lawsuit was formally terminated in November 1993.
Whitenack Restaurants Inc. subsequently had its corporate registration canceled by the Ohio tax commissioner in December 1994.
But Tommy's continued under LEET Inc.
The surviving records show the company entering into equipment and financing arrangements throughout the 1990s.
A 1995 equipment lease concerned a soft-serve ice cream machine.
A 1996 security filing involved restaurant fixtures, equipment, inventory, and other collateral.
And a 1999 filing documented additional financing.
Then, in October 2000, another federal employment-tax lien appeared.
This time, it was against LEET Inc.
The amount was $9,250.66.
Now, it would be unfair to assume that Tommy's experienced the same financial circumstances as David's simply because both corporations had tax-related filings.
But the record establishes that the successor business encountered financial claims of its own.
LEET's corporate registration was eventually canceled in 2007 following a notice concerning required franchise-tax filings or payments.
That cancellation doesn't establish the exact date Tommy's closed.
And it certainly doesn't explain every decision made during the preceding years.
But it adds another chapter to the complicated history of the restaurant at 10784 Reading Road.
A property that had once been associated with family dinners, anniversaries, and celebrations had become the subject of years of corporate and legal documentation.
And today, the building is associated with Med Mart rather than the buffet generations of Cincinnati residents remember.
But while the restaurant names changed and the corporations disappeared, something else survived.
The memories.
What Cincinnati Remembers
Here's the thing about researching old businesses.
Official records preserve certain kinds of history very well.
Courts preserve lawsuits.
County recorders preserve liens and leases.
The state preserves corporate filings.
Newspapers preserve advertisements and announcements.
But those documents rarely capture what made a business meaningful to the people who visited it.
For David's Buffet, that history survives in the memories of Cincinnati families.
The grandparents who took everyone out for Sunday dinner.
The couples celebrating fifty years of marriage.
The retirees reconnecting with former coworkers.
The children who loved being able to choose their own food.
The waitresses who remembered their regular customers.
And the employees who spent years making sure the restaurant operated.
During the investigation, I found an obituary from 1976 for Della L. “Sally” Stevens, who had worked as a salad maker at David's Buffet.
It's a small detail.
But I think it's an important one.
Because when we research a restaurant, it's easy to become so focused on the owners, corporations, and legal proceedings that we overlook the people who made the business function every day.
The cooks.
The servers.
The dishwashers.
The people preparing food before the first customers arrived.
The employees cleaning up after the dining room emptied.
The people who remembered how a regular customer liked their coffee.
Those individuals were part of David's history, too.
And for many families, they were the reason the restaurant felt familiar.
A restaurant can be remembered for its food.
But the people are often what make it special.
A Restaurant That Became Part of Cincinnati's History
When Steve first suggested this investigation, I expected to find a familiar story.
A restaurant opens.
It becomes popular.
It operates for decades.
Eventually, tastes change, business slows, and the doors close.
And perhaps some parts of David's history followed that familiar pattern.
But the surviving records reveal a much more complicated ending.
A corporation established in 1964.
Decades of advertisements, community gatherings, and family celebrations.
A business whose name appeared in Cincinnati sporting promotions and newspaper announcements.
Longtime operators whose names resurfaced during the company's final years.
Financial claims.
A landlord dispute.
Receivership proceedings.
Bankruptcy reporting.
And a new corporation operating another buffet at the same location while legal disputes continued.
It's the kind of story that reminds me why I love historical research.
Because sometimes you begin with a question as simple as, "Whatever happened to that restaurant?"
And before you know it, you're trying to piece together corporate relationships and courtroom proceedings from more than thirty years ago.
All because someone remembered a place they used to eat dinner.
Whatever Happened to David's Buffet?
So, after all this research, can we finally answer the question?
Yes.
At least in part.
David's Buffet operated in Cincinnati for decades, with its documented history stretching back to at least 1962.
It grew into a familiar local dining institution, hosting celebrations, community gatherings, and generations of family meals.
By the early 1990s, Whitenack Restaurants Inc. was facing significant financial and legal difficulties.
In February 1993, a court-appointed receiver was authorized to terminate restaurant operations, and the corporation appeared in Chapter 11 bankruptcy reporting.
During that same period, LEET Inc. registered the Tommy's Buffet name.
By April 1993, LEET had a lease for the former David's location on Reading Road.
And a lawsuit involving David's corporation, the landlord, and Tommy's resulted in court proceedings that included a confirmed sale.
The precise details of that sale remain unresolved.
So does the exact date David's served its final customers.
But the broader picture is clear.
David's didn't simply disappear from Cincinnati's restaurant landscape without leaving a trace.
Its final chapter unfolded amid financial pressure, litigation, court intervention, bankruptcy proceedings, and the arrival of another buffet at the same location.
For a restaurant that spent decades bringing Cincinnati families together, it was an unexpectedly turbulent ending.
And perhaps that's what makes the story so bittersweet.
Because to the people who celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, and Sunday dinners there, David's wasn't a corporation involved in a lawsuit.
It wasn't a tax lien.
It wasn't a receivership.
It wasn't a bankruptcy filing.
It was the place where their families gathered.
The place where their grandparents took them to dinner.
The place where they celebrated milestones with people they loved.
And the place they could return to, until one day they couldn't.
The corporations may be gone.
The signs may have changed.
And the buffet lines may have disappeared decades ago.
But David's Buffet didn't disappear from Cincinnati's memory.
And more than sixty years after its earliest documented operations, those memories are still helping us tell its story.
Sometimes the most important pieces of local history aren't found in a courthouse or an old newspaper.
They're found in the memories of the people who were there.
Until the next historical rabbit hole, stay curious.
Historical Research Notes
This investigation draws upon historical newspaper advertisements and announcements, Ohio corporate filings, Hamilton County Recorder documents, court dockets, and contemporary trade publications.
The documented February–April 1993 timeline establishes that David's Buffet was involved in receivership and bankruptcy proceedings while Tommy's Buffet emerged as a new tenant at the Reading Road location.
However, the underlying federal bankruptcy file, the original complaint in the March 1992 lawsuit, and the full April 1993 court-confirmed sale documents were not available for examination.
Accordingly, the precise disposition of the bankruptcy, the complete terms of the asset sale, and the circumstances surrounding David's final day of business remain unverified.
No finding of unlawful conduct by the landlord, the former restaurant's operators, or the successor corporation is established by the records examined.
Written and researched by Ashley Yoder | Homes With History — Corporate House Takeover
Do you remember David's Buffet?
Did your family visit the Evendale, Mt. Washington, Western Hills, or other locations? Were you an employee? Do you remember the transition from David's to Tommy's?
I'd love to hear your memories, especially if you have old photographs, menus, advertisements, or stories about the people who worked there.
And a special thank-you to Steve Joern for suggesting this investigation and sending me down another fascinating Cincinnati historical rabbit hole.