How do you say goodbye to an old friend?

Last week, I received some of the saddest news in recent months from my fellow staffer, Ryan McInerney: the Lions Deliver on Beaver Ave. had been boarded up and, apparently, permanently closed.

I didn’t know how to process this news. I hadn’t even gone one last time to give it a proper goodbye. Maybe that’s for the best since I would’ve just been nostalgic knowing it was my last time.

For those wondering what’s so tragic about this particular lounge closing its doors for good, let me paint you a picture.

It was a living room atmosphere where everyone could gather, no questions asked. The windows were not one-way glass like I once thought, so not only could you see everyone walking past, but they could see you. It was like smoking in a giant fishbowl.

Now you might be wondering why I can so boldly admit that I was smoking in Pennsylvania. After all, Pennsylvania is one of the only states in the area that hasn’t legalized recreational marijuana. But to any prospective people who might hire me one day, I never broke the law once, and that was the magic of Lions Deliver.

These guys legalized weed in State College somehow. And not only did they legalize it, but it was also an 18-and-older establishment. That’s the kind of innovation you can only dream of in a college town. Everything they sold was legal and still delivered results.

Now, if you are part of the small community tapped into the Lions Deliver scene, you may be thinking, big whoop, there’s still the College Ave. location. It just isn’t the same in there.

They say the people make the place, and I think that’s true for the Beaver Ave. location. I often encountered people there whom I never ran into on the streets of State College.

One time, my roommate and I met a man the night before the big snowstorm of winter 2026. He was concerned we hadn’t prepared proper rations for the upcoming White Out and gave us each a Hidden Valley granola bar in case of extreme weather. That was the kind of hospitality you could expect inside Lions Deliver’s doors.

Another time, the aforementioned staffer, Ryan McInerney, and I met a man who worked deliveries in the World Trade Center but didn’t show up to work on 9/11. Ryan didn’t believe him, but I saw it as fate that he was there on that couch that afternoon to tell us the story.

Once, after a long day, I went there alone to unwind and lock in on work. Since I chose to do homework at Lions Deliver, you can imagine my mental state. Then a random stranger started talking to me, dropping bars unexpectedly.

“Do not ever be intimidated by the world; you are the world. Don’t be intimidated by yourself.”

I swear on my life, he really said that. I’d never been more motivated to turn in my late work than that day.

So that’s really what Lions Deliver was. It was a community, and you just never knew who you’d meet there.

It’s unclear how the community will cope with a loss like this. Hopefully, children won’t have to turn to the streets to get their legal THC alternatives. If no one else cares about its absence, just know that one customer will mourn it for good.

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