It was old, but it was loved. It was beat-up, but we cherished every moment. It was ugly, but my God was it beautiful. The Joe Louis Arena embodied the true spirit of the hard-working, self-reviving city that it represented. It wasn’t just the home of the Red Wings, nor did it just reside in Detroit.

The Joe Louis Arena was Detroit.

When it opened in 1979, it was nothing more than a building that was built quicker than the blink of an eye. The sole purpose of its existence was to quickly replace the deteriorating Detroit Olympia on Grand River Avenue.

Former Detroit Free Press sports writer and M-Live columnist Joe Lapointe once described to me how The Joe was “a wreck from the first day it opened,” as he was there covering that first Red Wings game in December, 38 years ago. “The walls were painted two different shades of grey. It smelled funny. It was outdated from day one.”

But beyond the awkward placement, lack of proper parking, and let’s face it: the eye sore that was the Joe Louis Arena, the memories created in that building were immortal. Four Stanley Cups in eleven years? Unreal. 25 straight playoff appearances? That’s insane. But come on, there was a lot more than that. Like the 62-win season in 1996. Or their six Presidents Trophy’s, 16 divisional titles, six conference championships, seven retired numbers, and more wins than any other team over the last two decades. How about the legends? Steve Yzerman, Brendan Shanahan, Chris Chelios, Brett Hull, Dominik Hasek, the grind line, the Russian five, Nick Lidstrom, Henrik Zetterberg, Pavel Datsyuk. The list goes on and on.

Remember the standing ovation Gordie Howe received when he returned for the 1980 All-Star game as a member of the Hartford Whalers? It was deafening. How about the celebration during the 2002 Stanley Cup winning game against Carolina? Or the way the arena erupted when Yzerman blasted a shot past Jon Casey. You know, after taking the puck away from some guy named Wayne Gretzky.

What about ‘Fight Night at the Joe?’ Or Chris Osgood taking on Patrick Roy the following year. The endless fights between the Red Wings and the Avalanche under that very same roof. Or the way the Joe Louis Arena and its crowd overpowered Sidney Crosby in 2008.

How about the little things that are exclusive to Detroit—to the fans of Hockeytown at The Joe. Like the energy when Karen Newman recites the National Anthem. Or the way the crowd reacts to Al Sobotka waving an octopus above his head. Or, my personal favorite, when Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ echoes throughout the arena and the crowd sends chills down everyone’s spine when they all shout ‘SOUTH DETROIT’ together.

The best part however, is that the Joe gave each of us our own personal memories that we hold dear to our hearts.

I’ll never forget my first game at The Joe—which was the first hockey game I had ever attended. Being an Avalanche fan raised in Detroit for a majority of my life, the Red Wings earned a level of respect from a rivaling fan that defined the true class of this organization. I’ll never forget the first time, as a 15-year-old, that I brushed aside those big red curtains and ran up to the railing to look down at the beautiful ice rink below for the first time.

Tears streamed down my face as former Avalanche forwards Wojtek Wolski and Chris Stewart stood side-by-side at the center ice circle. But with blurred vision, while holding my breath, my eye quickly shifted to where Datsyuk was facing Lidstrom. They were legends, and they were right there. I’ll never forget the way I replayed the Roy and Vernon fight in my head as I imagined it were happening in front of me. I’d close my eyes and picture Peter Forsberg and Igor Larionov getting tied up along the side boards. The feeling sends shivers down my spine every time I remember it

I learned, at that very moment, what it meant to be proud of the city I grew up in. I learned that it wasn’t just about being a hockey fan, but it was about being a hockey fan from Detroit. The Red Wings’ success at The Joe was the single bright light in a dim city (literally) for over two decades. Every time they celebrated a championship it was a glimmer of hope for a once uprising city. It gave us all hope that things would get better, the city would be rebuilt, and we could one day own our own beautiful new arena and say, “we worked hard for this.”

And even though Detroit will enjoy the shiny new toy that parallels Ford Field, we’ll never forget The Joe. Throughout the last 38 years, The Joe provided for Detroit a sense of pride when nobody else saw anything for it to be proud of. And the best part is, nobody could ever take that away from us.

Thank you, Joe. We’ll miss yah’.