Family Business

Future of Cpl. Klinger’s beloved hot dogs in doubt

Written by John Seewer (AP) | | news@toledofreepress.com

A family feud slathered with accusations of financial misdeeds is threatening the future of an Ohio restaurant whose hot dogs were made famous by cross-dressing Cpl. Max Klinger on “M*A*S*H.”

The fight centers on the ownership of Tony Packo’s, a corner bar and grill that grew out of the Great Depression and whose chili-topped hot dogs, stuffed cabbage and roast beef platters continued to please fans even after the iconic TV show ended its run three decades ago.

“If you’re ever in Toledo, Ohio, on the Hungarian side of town, Tony Packo’s got the greatest Hungarian hot dogs,” Jamie Farr’s character Cpl. Max Klinger said on an episode in 1976.

The son and grandson of the restaurant’s namesake have been trading accusations for nearly a year, and each is trying to buy the company. The restaurant’s lender foreclosed on its loans, and a judge put a third party in charge of the restaurant while he sorts out the mess.

Both sides were in court June 10, when a Lucas County judge heard arguments on a number of pending motions.

The character played by Toledo native Jamie Farr put Packo’s on the map when he portrayed a homesick U.S. soldier in the Korean War who longed for Packo’s hot dogs and wore dresses in hopes of convincing the Army he was crazy and should be discharged.

Packo’s was mentioned in six of the 250 episodes of “M*A*S*H” — notably, in the final episode in 1983, which until last year’s Super Bowl was the most-watched TV show in history.

The original Packo’s — there are five outlets around Toledo — remains a destination and is decorated with “M-A-S-H” memorabilia, including glass-encased hot dog buns autographed by celebrities ranging from Bing Crosby to Alice Cooper.

It’s still common to see out-of-state license plates in the parking lot and visitors snapping photos inside and out.

The family for years resisted offers to expand, although it does sell Packo’s hot dog sauce and pickles in stores across the nation, including some Kroger stores in the Midwest.

The restaurant first opened in 1932, when Tony Packo and his wife got a $100 loan from relatives.

Trouble among the owners surfaced in 2002 when Nancy Packo Horvath, daughter of the founders, accused her brother, Tony Packo Jr., of trying to force her out of the business. They settled their differences and agreed to reorganize the company’s management structure.

Packo Horvath died a year later, leaving her share of the business to her son, Robin Horvath. All seemed fine until July, when he sued Tony Packo Jr., and his son, Tony Packo III, accusing them of blocking him from looking at company financial records after he began questioning them about company spending.

Horvath claimed he found $400,000 in unauthorized payments dating to 2006. He said his cousin, Tony Packo III, used company money to repair his wife’s car, pay for construction at his mother’s home and buy golf balls and golf shirts without providing receipts.

The Packos have denied any wrongdoing. They countered in court documents that Horvath had not been involved in day-to-day operations for years and had little knowledge of the business.

Since then, Cincinnati-based Fifth Third Bancorp has foreclosed on almost $4 million in loans to the restaurant and seized about $100,000 Horvath had at the bank. It also foreclosed on properties that Horvath owns next to the restaurant, trying to reclaim personal guarantees he made on the business loans.

A bank attorney said in February that Packo’s lost a lot of money last year — he did not say how much — and that its future was in doubt if it continued business under the court-appointed third party. An attempt to resolve the dispute with the help of a mediator failed this spring.

James Rogers, an attorney for the Packos, said they haven’t closed the door on reaching a settlement. He wouldn’t discuss what is at the root of the differences.

“Family business disputes can be complicated situations,” Rogers said.

The Packos have not talked publicly since the dispute arose. Messages seeking comment were left with Horvath and his attorneys.

The upheaval doesn’t appear to be hurting business — at least judging the number of cars filling the parking lot recently.

Customers say they can’t imagine Toledo without Packo’s — the hot dogs are what cheesesteaks are to Philadelphia and deep-dish pizza is to Chicago.

“It’s too big of a name,” said Jim Zywocki, who lives in the suburb of Holland and stopped in for lunch because he was working nearby. He took home a map for some out-of-town co-workers who wanted to stop in, too.

“Tony Packo’s is Tony Packo’s,” he said. “It’s a landmark.”

Tags: , , ,

Pop Goes the Culture

McGinnis: Pickles and peppers — Reflections on Tony Packo’s

Written by Jeff McGinnis | | jmcginnis@toledofreepress.com

What defines Toledo? When you ask someone from another area what comes to mind when they think of our town? “M*A*S*H,” definitely. Jamie Farr, by association. Crystal Bowersox, if they were watching “Idol” this year. The Mud Hens.

And, of course, Tony Packo’s.

There may be better restaurants in our area. But none of them are more distinctly ours than the classic hot dog establishment. For nearly eight decades, this home-grown café has served Toledoans a distinct and unique brand of local flavor, served with a side of nostalgia and surrounded by autographed hot dog buns.

I’ve never been a big fan of hot dogs, to be honest. I’m more a hamburger guy. But even I adore my regular trips to Packo’s, as I always go whenever anyone from out of town visits. They always — always — want to stop for a dog or two. Maybe they see it as a rite of passage. You can’t truly say you have visited Toledo until you’ve eaten there.

Tony himself was a born-and-raised native of Toledo, who with the help of a $100 loan, started a business during the deepest financial crisis our nation had ever seen. The original café bore little resemblance to the Packo’s we know today — the famous “Hungarian” hot dogs didn’t even grace the menu at first, which instead focused on sandwiches and ice cream.

The restaurant had long become a local institution by the time a national phenomenon gave it name recognition outside our area. Native son Jamie Farr got to mention it on legendary TV series “M*A*S*H” on February 24, 1976, a date so important to Packo’s history that it’s covered in depth on its official website. Farr’s continual mentioning of Toledo landmarks helped establish the city in the national imagination. And no landmark benefited more than Packo’s.

People all over the nation, hoping to capture the feel of a classic they loved, wanted to see, and taste, this famous dog for themselves. And as the recognition grew, so did Packo’s. The business expanded to include new locations. Tony Packo’s products began to appear in grocery stores. More and more celebrities began to visit and sign those now-famous rolls, a tradition started by Burt Reynolds in 1972. Packo’s became a brand, and the brand became world-renowned.

But now, time has passed. “M*A*S*H” has been off the air for more than 25 years. Any nostalgia and name association attached to the classic has probably diminished in immediate value. And yet, Packo’s still holds  a powerful  place in  our local imagination, one that will probably never be challenged.

Why? Because Packo’s is more than just a restaurant. Its history surrounds you every time you set foot in the place. It is symbolized by the mementos on the wall, most famous of which are the hundreds of autographed hot dog buns that greet patrons as they head for their tables. But the true meaning of Packo’s may lie in its legend.

At its core, Packo’s is an American success story — one that has amazing resonance for our area and the time in which we live. I like to think that when we choose to eat there, when others insist on going, when ears perk up at the name of Packo’s, it all comes back to that humble little sandwich shop, and the man who founded it. Tony, who simply started a restaurant and ended up founding an institution.

Even now, as some rumors surface implying financial difficulties, it is balanced by a calm certainty that Packo’s will never go anywhere. It is far too ingrained in our culture. It means too much to us. There may be other people and places that come to define our area, and perhaps we will embrace them with the same fervor. But no landmark will ever mean quite the same as those world famous, Hungarian hot dogs.

They hold a place in our hearts — and stomachs — like no other ever will.

E-mail Jeff at PopGoesJeff@gmail.com.

Tags: , , , , , ,