A long, long time ago, before online shopping, consumer goods were offered right at the front door. In many areas like Madison Park, smiling Fuller Brush salesmen went door to door, displaying brushes for any occasion. Vacuum cleaner salesmen demonstrated previously unimaginable attachments like those for cleaning Venetian blinds. How about reversing the suction, acting as a leaf blower, or painting the house – who knows?
A friend and I were invited to my mom’s house for our favorite: Swedish pancakes. When we got there, we found an older gentleman eating our breakfast! Mom explained he came to the door, offering to sharpen all her knives. While she flipped our pancakes, he settled down for his own plate of golden browns. We feasted as well, and when he left, we realized the need for a peephole in the door.
Door-to-door salesmen tried to sell siding for the house. My very own wife bought a Compact vacuum cleaner from one when she lived in Magnolia (pre-me). I will never let her forget that although it was considered a good vacuum, but she paid quadruple for it.
Sears, the predecessor to Costco, was the place to get many household items – the catalog made for interesting reading. The store on 1st Avenue had an escalator that, when descending from the 2nd floor, the alluring candy department begged a quick stop. For handier household needs, Bud and Lola McKee’s hardware store here in the park was always welcoming, with anything you could possibly require, along with plenty of laughter.
Out of gas? One of our local stations – Bill Turner’s Richfield – employed a member of the Hadfield family who not only greeted you sincerely but filled the tank, looked under the hood, checked the oil, radiator, and water level, and then washed the front windshield. Talk about full service! Having a dead battery meant being late to work, so to the rescue was Norm or “Oly,” and he came to the house to charge it and, if needed, sold you a battery. This was all lined up by rotary phones, of course, no computer, no cell phones.
Doctors made house calls back in the day. Dr. Harris showed up at my apartment minutes after describing over the phone my discomfort after an injury. I had slid on my back down some stairs, which manifested in a rash to which he applied iodine and a bandage. We chatted a bit, and I paid him in cash, with no paperwork and no follow-up appointment. I was to carry on with my single life. Along that same line, chipping a tooth on a jawbreaker and Dr. Chet Woodside (located a few doors down from Dr. Harris) would get you back to biting another one in no time.
Jaffe’s Shoe Repair made our worn shoes look like new again, but not before a stern discussion of how to care for them.
The Madison Park Bakery has been running smoothly all these years and continues to have lines out the door for devourers of the goodies. Herman Stohl began the business, and that was where the hard-core coffee drinkers hung out, enjoying the brew for $.10 with $.05 refills. I owe for many refills. Humongous, delicious cinnamon rolls, among other delicacies, waft in the air, and a decent Americano can be had.
All of this seems rather “Andy of Mayberry,” but we did have our fair share of crime. Bill and Ada’s Dime store was a favorite for one crook called “The Skylight Bandit.” He scaled the rooftop between 42nd and 43rd until he found an open skylight. He had done this twice before, lowering himself to the goods below and exiting through the rear door, leaving a mess behind him. This time, Bill set a trap below the skylight. Amongst the cards, he placed kitchen knives upward, which were put in clay floral frogs. A few days later, Bill showed me the disarray of cards and a trail of blood leading out the back door where Skylight obviously egressed to an automobile headed for Harborview.
Years later, “Hollywood” made a name for himself at the Seafirst Bank, where Bank of America is now. Banking was one of Hollywood’s professions. No suit and tie, just a fashionable disguise. He entered in the late afternoon and loudly stated, “Ladies and gentlemen, please be calm. I am robbing the bank.” He asked the clerk to open the safe, to which she replied, “I can’t; it’s on a timer.” He answered, “Well, darn, I’m gonna have to shoot you.” Nervous laughter could be heard in the bank. She suddenly remembered, and he took off after emptying the safe and the tills.
I witnessed much shoplifting in my years driving for Wonderbread. I walked into one family-owned market and saw a woman trying to get a large turkey into her cart. I helped her get it in, and she thanked me. What a nice lady, my good deed for the day. The nice lady was there when I got to the checkstand to have my bill signed. She said, “I just don’t have room for it in my refrigerator and would like a refund!” She got the groceries for free, plus some cash in her pocket.
In another store, I saw a man slip two bottles of wine into his coat. When he went through the line with a few items, the owner said, “So that’s two bottles of wine and two cartons of cigarettes?” “No, I don’t even smoke!” he replied. The owner lifted the phone to call the police, and the connoisseur announced, “Oh yes, two cartons of cigarettes!”
Generating tranquility is our common goal. We are lucky to live in a great community and are happy to be a part of it.