“The Store”.
In the ‘80’s and ‘90’s, when my kids were growing up on New York’s Upper East Side…
most of their friends’ parents worked as lawyers or doctors or in real estate
or corporate management/marketing or investment banking or…
(like me) advertising.
Growing up as a kid in The Bronx, in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s was…different.
My friends’ parents were postmen or teachers or dentists or cab drivers or car salesmen
or butchers or pharmacists or secretaries or sold insurance…
and lots of them were in “retail”.
My best friend, Heintz’s dad was a salesman at Robert Hall Men’s Clothing.
My other best friend, Gerry’s dad worked at Coward Shoes.
My Mom and Dad had…
“The Store”.
“The Store” was better known as University Linoleum Mart (a.k.a University Linoleum & Shade Company)
And it was one of the most formative things that helped shaped my life.
So many experiences and memories of “the store” remain vivid in my mind.
This store was actually the second store that my Dad opened.
When I was a tiny baby, he owned a tiny picture frame store,
(so small it’s address was 65 ½ West 183rd Street).
He worked hard and after a few years, he saved up enough money to open “The Store”.
University Linoleum Mart was located just few blocks away from this first store,
(AND from my house),
it was on Jerome Ave.,right beneath the 183rd stop of the Woodlawn-Jerome elevated subway.
“The Store” sold linoleum, floor tiles, carpeting, window shades, Venetian blinds.
My Dad and Mom worked in “The Store” together.
And they worked hard.
(Harder than I ever had to work in my “cushy” advertising agency job).
Over the years, the business grew and the store was able to expand.
When a fire burned down a fabric store next to “The Store” …
my Dad was able to purchase it and add more space.
Then he bought the small grocery store on the other side
and turned it into a mini- warehouse.
Soon, my Dad saw a need to set up an “upstairs” workplace/office.
To do this construction, my Dad called on Jake, a relative of my Grandpa Al…
I should mention….Jake happened to be a one-legged man!
Can’t make this stuff up!
To deliver the linoleum, my Dad also bought a truck/van,
with the name of the store emblazoned on the side.
NOTE: This truck became the highlight of several of my birthday parties…
having a dozen wild boys banging off the walls, screaming in the back of the empty van,
as it sped through the streets of The Bronx on its way to Jahn’s Ice Cream Parlor.
No, seatbelts were not a thing back then.
In addition to expanding the size of the store and owning a truck…
my parents were able to hire several employees,
(Most of them were “layers”…the name for guys who installed the floor covering).
They were an interesting crew.
Their right-hand man, part-time fireman was crew-cutted George Tully.
There was George’s nephew, young, red-faced, John Molloy, a recent ex-marine.
“Niel-ski”, a rough, tough Irishman, with a heart of gold (even if he was a Red Sox fan).
“Doc” Venturino was a good looking, curly-haired , always-smiling Italian.
“Crazy Freddy”…well, he lived up to his name.
Harold Gertler, was thehandsome, gentle giant.
And my Mom’s gambler cousin, Bernie Siegal…a true Damon Runyan-esque character.
As a kid who spent a lot of time in “The Store”,
these guys became my friends, baby-sitters, surrogate parents.
I always thought of them like Dorothy’s farmhand friends from Wizard of Oz.
After a few years…
University Linoleum Mart had become a “floor covering force” in the Bronx!
I wonder how many of you have ever been inside a Linoleum store?
(or how many of my younger Forever Kids even know what linoleum is!?!)
”The Store” was unlike other retail establishments.
The “rolls” of linoleum were lined up one after another, up against the wall.
They were 6, 9 or 12 feet tall.
(I used to love when my Dad would lift me up to sit atop one of the rolls. King of the World!!)
There were lots and lots and lots of rolls…
different colors, patterns, sizes, brands.
Walking amongst them was like walking through a canyon of vinyl.
NOTE: There were several times, when inadvertently one of these “towers” would
be knocked over…causing a domino effect of an “avalanche”!
I remember one of these avalanches in particular,
that somehow occurred on a weekend, when nobody was in the store.
My Dad andMom, the crew and even us kids had to spend all day “re-building”.
The “process” for actually having linoleum (or tiles) wind up on the floor of one’s home
involved several steps:
1. The customer comes to the store and selects the color and pattern
2. We send a worker up to measure the floor dimensions
3. Back at the store, the roll is cut to size…creating a second smaller role.
4. The “goods” are delivered …usually carried up several flights of stairs!!
5. The linoleum or tiles are installed by the “layer”.
6. The customer calls to complain (optional).
Because both my Dad and my Mom worked in the store,
when my sister Ellen and I were too young to be home alone…
we would spend many, many days in “The Store”.
Most of our time was spent “upstairs”.
There, we did our homework (as little as I ever did), ate our lunch or after-school snacks,
and found ways to amuse ourselves.
We did have one or two games (including the previously mentioned “Zoo Parade”);
plus we’d look through all the index cards that showed the addresses and floor plans
of hundreds of Bronx apartments and look for where our friends lived;
on the shelves that stored the Venetian blinds in long, narrow cardboard boxes…
we’d open one end and use them as “mailboxes”!
We’d send each other messages, drawings or made-up games; .
Also…in the metal filing cabinets that held business papers arranged alphabetically…
inside the “C folder”…
my Mom always left us…Cookies.
When the store wasn’t too crowded with customers,
Ellen and I took our fun downstairs.
We’d take turns as “salesmen” and “customer”…
helping each other select the right colors and patterns.
Sometimes we’d act as nice customers, sometimes “mean” !
Often, we’d climb into the store windows…
and pretend we were mannequins,
as passerbys looked in.
We might venture out, in front of the store,
where we would “hide” in an alcove between the two connecting stores…
and if a woman walked by,
Ellen would jump out and sing a song or do a little dance.
If it were a man…I was on!
We also went to the stairs leading up to the elevated subway station,
and pretended to remove “invisible stories” that were stored between the stairs.
Then we’d share our made-up stories with each other.
Yeah, we were weird kids.
As much fun as we had,
when it was time to close the store for the day and head to dinner,
we were more than ready!
But, invariably…some last-minute customer would show up,
making for a very cranky kid.
Eventually, we’d either walk up the 5 steep blocks to go home,
or we’d go out for Chinese food or Italian on Arthur Avenue.
One would think that as I grew up to become a teenage boy,
whose parents owned a family business,
that I would be a big help…
but not so much.
My kind-hearted Dad,
(despite my Mom’s objections),
always said…”Let him go and play ball”.
But…I did help out a bit in the store.
I did learn how to make a Venetian blind.
(My Dad’s joke: “How do you make a Venetian Blind? Poke him in the eye!”.)
And sometimes, I accompanied the “layers” when they delivered the goods.
Carrying heavy rolls of linoleum up several flights was no easy task.
When I did go on the deliveries…the “layers” often generously split their tips with me.
That was cool…but what was cooler was they taught me about “silhouette jobs”.
A “silhouette job” was when a delivery was made in the early morning,
and the lady of the house might still be in her nightgown…
…by having her stand by the window with the shades up and the morning light shining in…
one could make out the shapely “silhouette” of her body.
Ladies, may this serve as a warning!
Years later,
after many years of very hard work,
…many years of Dad carrying too many rolls of linoleum up too many flights of stairs,
and because of my Mom’s increasing circulatory health issues,
my parents were forced to move to a warm weather climate.
And sell “The Store”.
This was a major life change for all of us.
My Dad had always been a store owner, never had to work for anyone else.
Now, in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, for the first time in his life he was looking for a job.
Ironically, he began working at an employment agency.
He pretty much hated it.
After just a month…
he found himself a new job.
He would be Store Manager for Harry Rich Carpeting.
Back on the Floor!
As I said, “The Store” was a major part of our lives.
Those who worked for my parents, became part of our family.
The salespeople who sold to them, became their friends.
While I still have no idea whatsoever about how much money my parents ever made,
I always felt that we were able to have everything we ever wanted.
By any measure, “The Store” was a success.
And so were my parents.
To this day, I admire them for that.
University Linoleum Mart was kind of a Bronx institution.
In fact, to herald its esteemed status…
I wrote my first ever advertising line,
(when I was about 9 years-old)
It was right there in the Yellow Pages for all to read:
“We Cover The Bronx”…
Not bad for a 9 year-old, huh?
Would love to hear from any of you whose parents owned a store.
