When Les Horstman bought Glenmore Bowl in the 1970s, he had a motto -- "The House of Friendliness" -- printed on the bowling lanes' score sheets.

Although his four sons chided him endlessly about the seeming triteness of the phrase, it was an absolutely on-the-mark description of a west side institution that has always been more like a family than a business.

Many members of Glenmore's senior citizen leagues began bowling at the Cheviot facility -- at 76 years, the oldest bowling center in Cincinnati -- when they were teen-agers. Mr. Horstman often invited handicapped children and other groups to Glenmore for a free day of bowling. And every Christmas Eve, he threw a bowling party for dozens of friends, a list that seemed to grow longer annually.

"Les was a big man with a big heart -- the biggest I've ever seen,'' said Jim Hischmiller, who has known Mr. Horstman -- and bowled at Glenmore -- for more than 50 years. "If you met Les, you had a friend.''

Mr. Horstman, who lived in Cheviot around the corner from his bowling center, died Wednesday. He was 79.

A native Cincinnatian born in Over-the-Rhine, Mr. Horstman was a gifted athlete in several sports. At Hughes High School and in later years, he was one of the city's top amateur tennis players, competing against future international stars such as Tony Trabert and Bill Talbert. During World War II, when he was an Army small arms inspector in the Caribbean, he played exhibitions for the troops against several Wimbledon champions.

"I came along about 30 years too early,'' he said in explaining why he had never pursued a pro career himself. "Back in those days, you had to be one of the very best in the world to make any money at tennis. Today, you win a few matches a year -- not tournaments, just matches -- and you make a couple hundred thousand dollars.''

When his father introduced him to bowling at 8, taking him to a long-gone bowling lane on Vine Street called Jack & Jill, Mr. Horstman found a life-long passion.

As a teen, in the era before automatic pin-setting machines, he was a pin setter at the Friar's Club in Clifton Heights, prompting jokes in later years about the number of bruises he got from flying pins. For three decades, he was a 200-average bowler -- the sport's rough equivalent of a scratch golfer -- and in the 1960s, defeated Professional Bowling Association Hall of Famer Billy Welu in an exhibition match at Glenmore.

After managing Glenmore for 15 years, Mr. Horstman, who had always wanted to run his own business, bought it in 1975. For the next 28 years, except for vacations, he worked at the lanes seven days a week, displaying a work ethic inherited from his father, Edward Horstman, who, after retiring following a 50-year career at Lockwood Manufacturing Co., worked until age 90 at Glenmore.

The long hours reflected not only the demands of a family-owned business -- duties shared for the past quarter century with two sons, Ron and Jeff -- but also his love of the many friendships formed through years of hands-on management.

Long before TV's "Cheers" became the place where everybody knew your name, Glenmore embodied those words. The lanes, Mr. Horstman noted, gave him "more friends than I can count.'' Regulars often found favorite drinks and food waiting before they were ordered. Typifying the close proprietor-customer ties, he for years saved coffee grounds in a plastic bucket behind the bar for an elderly neighbor who used them to fertilize his garden; the favor was repaid with tomatoes that ended up on sandwiches prepared in Glenmore's closet-sized kitchen.

"I've always thought that the toast for George Bailey in the closing scene of 'It's a Wonderful Life' about the relative importance of money, friendships and a life well lived also could be said of my dad: 'He's the richest man in town,''' said his eldest son Barry, city editor of The Cincinnati Post.

Mr. Horstman also was active in civic affairs in Cheviot, including service on a commission that crafted a plan to build a parking lot crucial to the city's redevelopment. In 1978, he was named Cheviot's Man of the Year.

"He was one of the real pioneers of the city,'' said longtime Cheviot Mayor Michael Laumann. "He gave to the community in so many ways. There aren't that many mom-and-pop businesses around even a small town like Cheviot anymore. Les knew everyone and everyone knew him.''

Article taken from the Cincinnati Post  December 12, 2003.