HARLANSBURG, Pa. -- The barn-like brick structure known as the Village Inn Restaurant has survived 150 years of storms, economic downturns and ownership changes while standing sentry along Route 19 in this Lawrence County community.

The restaurant, however, fell victim last summer to a combination of state laws and local ordinances.

Once a general store, the restaurant first opened for family dining in 1947. In 1992, the inn even briefly hosted Bill Clinton and Al Gore one April afternoon when they passed through town on a campaign stop.

Today, the building still has banquets and special events such as wedding receptions, school graduations and baby showers, and it's home base for Jody's Pantry, specializing in wedding cakes.

When competing restaurants opened up in the New Castle area a few years ago, Village Inn owners Rick and Jody Wimer realized they needed to offer customers wine selections to go with their braised steak and shrimp Florentine dinners. Because wine is grouped with hard liquor under state law, that meant they needed a liquor license.

Mr. Wimer, 41, who only wanted to offer wine in his restaurant, believes Pennsylvania laws do not reflect changes in how people dine, especially in light of the explosion in wine drinking the past 40 years. Wine, for many, is an integral part of a good meal.

"It's so antiquated, the whole system. So many of their regulations were put in place eons ago, and they are so outdated," he said. "This is 2008. People really don't consider wine hard liquor anymore."

Scott Township, where Harlansburg is located, is a "dry" community that does not allow retail sales of wine and spirits. To get a license, the Wimers had to get 30 percent of the township's registered voters -- he estimated 800 to 900 people -- to sign a petition supporting it. They say the process took nearly two months and involved many afternoons and evenings knocking on doors.

They got the signatures, but the initiative fell well short when it appeared on the 1996 ballot. They tried again the next year, and did better, but still came up short.

"We had a very strongly religious community," Mr. Wimer said. "There were a lot of old timers who feel that liquor in any form was straight from Satan himself. And there were people who had some concerns about the clientele it might attract. I don't take it personally. I understand."

On the third try, the Wimers lowered their sights, asking only for a license to serve beer and other malted beverages. They finally won, but that half a victory wasn't be enough to save their restaurant.

The Wimers had a vision for the Village Inn, which still retains its general store warmth, as a place people would come for special, linen tablecloth dinners.

"We wanted to give people a nice experience, but yet let them feel comfortable," said Mr. Wimer. "But so many people wanted a glass of chardonnay with dinner, and I can't offer that because it's considered hard liquor."

Added his wife: "I can't tell you the number of people who got up and left because we don't sell liquor. I got tired of it. I was embarrassed by it."

Finally, last June, they gave up and closed the restaurant.

This wasn't Mr. Wimer's only frustrating experience with liquor laws. A few years ago, he asked the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board for guidance about keeping white wine and sherry in the kitchen for cooking.

An attorney for the liquor board told them they could keep wine and sherry in the kitchen -- as long as it was undrinkable. So, to stay in compliance, Mr. Wimer kept a small stash of white wine on an upstairs landing, in the family quarters, then poured some in a small container and brought it down to the kitchen for cooking.

"Any time I have any correspondence with the LCB, it's always a two-edged sword kind of thing," said Mr. Wimer. "They'll tell you one thing, but you can't do that. You end up scratching your head and asking, 'Now what?' "

Then there was the time the family of a congressional aide scheduled a wedding reception at the Village Inn and wanted to order Napa Valley champagne for their guests. Without a liquor license, though, the restaurant couldn't accept the shipment.

"You feel like you're operating a little diner," said Mrs. Wimer. Instead, the champagne was delivered to an Ohio address, then brought to the reception by car.

Although the restaurant is now closed, Jody's Pantry and the catering service have been roundly successful. In many ways, day-to-day life now is easier than the years they spent preparing dinners every night.

But Mr. Wimer, in particular, says he still misses it. Or, rather, he misses the people who came through the Village Inn doors each night anticipating a good meal and a nice evening out.

"Not only were they my customers, they were my friends. I knew when their anniversaries were. I always knew when their grandchildren were graduating from high school," he said.

"But you get to a point where you have to listen to your head and not your heart. If I listened to my heart, the restaurant would still be open."