Aug 27, 2026
For thirty-two years, I lived behind Lloyd Center, a mall that at one point was cited as the largest shopping mall in the world. For many people in the larger Portland area, Lloyd Center was considered iconic for its ice rink as well as its size. Living as close as I did, I visited the mall thousands of times, and no, that’s not an exaggeration. During heat waves or cold snaps, the mall would be an air-conditioned or warm haven for walking when the weather was uncooperative. I spent countless hours at Barnes & Noble reading and people watching. I’d talk to the clerks at GameStop and Electronics Boutique about the latest upcoming games. And although I’d only skated on the ice rink once or twice, I’d watch from the balconies as amateur and professional skaters practiced their techniques or as the younger set learned how to skate for the very first time.
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On August 8, 2026, Lloyd Center closed for the last time. Long before then, the mall had become its own version of a ghost town. The vast majority of shops had been abandoned, the major retailers having fled years before. The hardest part for me was watching Barnes & Noble shut down in early May. The bookstore had originally opened on 12th and Broadway in 2002, eventually moving inside the mall to become one of Lloyd Center’s major tenants. Losing Barnes & Noble meant essentially that the mall was beyond recovery, and indeed that was the case. Once a mall loses all of its anchor stores, it’s very hard to bring customers back in.
And indeed, many stores had already shut down. Well before Lloyd Center’s closure, I’d watched as Macy’s, Sears, Nordstrom, as well as smaller stores like Marshall’s and Ross all left the mall. The pandemic certainly hadn’t helped, and of course the rise of online shopping and the continuing spread of AI meant that many people didn’t need to go to a mall nearly as often. By the time Barnes & Noble was slated to close, the mall’s demise seemed all but certain.
Then the last day came. On Saturday, August 8, the crowds surged into the mall. To say there was a mismatch between the huge throngs versus the small number of stores that remained open was a colossal understatement. Thousands of people passed through Lloyd Center to pay their respects, to skate on the ice rink one last time, and to take pictures of what would soon be demolished. I came for about an hour on Saturday, grateful to see the crowds, but one of my first thoughts was: Where were you? If you truly loved Lloyd Center, why weren’t you here supporting the remaining stores that struggled to find customers? Why did it take Lloyd Center closing for you to visit one last time? And why is it that the one time the mall was truly full for the first time in many years was when we had to say goodbye to it?
I’m fully aware that there were numerous attempts to save the mall and its iconic ice rink. I know community members, merchants, and ice skaters went to Portland’s city council in order to find ways to preserve Lloyd Center, and I thank each and every one of you who did so. At the same time, if you need to preserve something, you need to be there to support it continuously, not just wait until the writing is on the wall that something is about to change.
And here’s the thing: For those of us who live right by the mall or have worked there for many years, losing Lloyd Center isn’t simply suffering the loss of an iconic institution. It’s an inevitable and tangible reality. Many of us never wanted to see Lloyd Center closed, let alone demolished, for the simple reason that when that happens, we have a ringside seat to its destruction. I have no doubt that the plans for the renovation of the Lloyd Center neighborhood will eventually lead to something wonderful, but in the meantime, no one looks forward to the bombardment of noise and construction that will commence and continue for the next few years. It’s hard enough for those people who lost their jobs at Lloyd Center or had to relocate elsewhere to find work. It’s even harder when you’re watching the neighborhood lose a part of its soul.
I will remember Lloyd Center for the joy it brought me and countless others who wandered through its corridors and visited its stores. I’ll remember the Christmas lights and decorations as well as the many shoppers who filled the mall during the holidays, even if Lloyd Center slowed down at other times of the year. And I’ll remember moving into the neighborhood in 1994 and realizing I’d found a great place to live as the mall and surrounding neighborhood offered so many opportunities to shop, mingle, and be entertained. My main hope is that whatever is built in place of Lloyd Center will retain at least some of the spirit of the mall, whether it be a new ice rink or a memorial of some kind to commemorate what we’ve lost. Above all, it would be nice to have a place to gather and congregate freely. Even if hanging at the mall is no longer a cultural touchstone like it once was, the importance of having a neighborhood social hub cannot be overstated. May the next iteration of Lloyd Center, or whatever replaces it, turn out to be something we can all be proud of.
Freedman on the Go 