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Chandler's Food Shop
Date: 02-08-2010
By: Doug G
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Here's a story of my youth in North Hammond:
It was going to be a very good year. We had just moved.. From a trailer park to an apartment on Oak Street. And almost enough bedrooms to go around. And I had made 2 new friends that lived in the neighborhood. They were Mike and Steve. 2 friends in one week? Could it get any better? I was 10 that year.
In the north, there were small neighborhood grocers every few blocks. Nowadays we call them convenience stores. There was one 2 houses away from where we lived. The sign above the huge plate glass windows proclaimed "Chandler's Food Shop". And on the windows themselves were stripes across the top that hawked Salada Tea. And over the windows was a large striped awning that could be let up or down with a long handled crank As you opened the old creaking door, a small bell rang. Not an electronic buzzer but an honest to goodness bell. There were no hours on the door. Everyone knew when the store opened and closed. You could feel the breeze in the store as a large ceiling fan created cooling air currents. It was an odd sight really for in those days, no one had heard of ceiling fans in a house.
The store was small but large. I believe there were 4 aisles and a wooden floor that squeaked when you walked on it. And at the front of the store was an soda pop cooler where you would pluck a bottle of Royal Crown Cola out of the icy water. If you went down the center aisle, there were Hostess snack cakes for 12 cents and to make you want them was an animated Twinkie character that would run for months on a single battery. At the back of the store was a dairy case and a butchers counter and the old wood meat block where many a steak was cut and chickens dismembered. Then to the left and left again was the check out counter and behind it was the Holy Grail... the candy jars. Most small penny candies weren't packaged back then.. Simply dumped into big glass jars so you could see them. It would make your mouth water.
I think my favorites were Michigan Cherries. They were red and sour but best of all they were three for a penny. Whopper malted milk balls were 2 for a penny. You could get a huge pretzel stick for a penny and a wide variety of gumballs... HUGE gumballs for only a penny each. It was here that I got my first taste of gambling. There was a penny gumball machine by the counter. It was filled with multi-colored gumballs and tiny charm like toys that were totally useless. But best of all were the stripes. These were old, beat up gumballs that were painted with stripes. If you put in a penny and were lucky enough, when you opened the metal chute, a stripe would drop into your hand. A smile would cover your face as you went to the counter cause a stripe could be exchanged for a 5 cent candy bar!
But I'm stumbling down memory lane. Most of that is not important at all. I just told you that so I could tell you this. I was soon to find out that my new friends were not the most reputable boys in the neighborhood. We were sitting on Steve's front steps, probably talking about girls or baseball when Mike suggested we go down to Chandlers. I had never been in the store at that point and besides, I didn't have any money. There was Mom and 4 of us kids and Mom made $52 a week as a cook at a restaurant so I rarely had money. But Mike said don't worry about it. We entered the store and an old man with gray hair and big ears came to the counter from an apartment in the back. "That's Frank" Steve said, "He owns the place". Steve and Mike headed down the aisles. I felt awkward and Frank was looking at me in a weird way. I started back out the door. Then Steve and Mike rushed past me and said "C'mon". It was then I saw the grocer right behind us. We ran down a narrow passageway beside the store but the grocer caught us. As he pushed Mike agains the wall I could see that Mike had stuffed something down his pants. It amazes me to this day what Mike came up with as a believable explanation. He said it was a quart Pepsi bottle and he had gotten it stuck in his pants the day before. The ignorance of youth!! Well, it was a Pepsi bottle but it wasn't exactly empty and Mike unashamedly handed it to Frank, jerked loose and ran off. Frank turned to Steve and me and said "You boys go on, I'm real disappointed in you".
That night, as Mom was fixing dinner, she handed me some change and told me to run to the store and get a loaf of bread. I nearly choked and quickly came up with a myriad of excuses why one of my sisters should go instead of me. But Mom said "Just go, and hurry. Dinner is almost ready". It was one of the longest walks I had ever endured. I surely didn't want to face Frank again but on the other hand, I didn't want to make Mom angry. I got to the store and slowly opened the door. I slid inside and found the bread, picked up a loaf and started to walk to the counter. My head was down but I could feel the old man staring at me. I put the bread on the counter and dropped the change beside it. I wanted to run. He spoke " You're that boy that was with Mike today". I nodded. His voice got sharp "Look at me, boy!. I slowly raised my head.. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. "It's ok, son" he said in a much softer voice. "But you need to be a bit more careful of who your friends are". I nodded again. I was afraid to try to say anything. He counted out the change and handed the extra back to me. I grabbed the bread and headed for the door when he said "What's your name boy?" My voice cracked and I managed to get out a barely audible "Doug." Well, nice meeting you Doug" he said "I hope you'll like it here on Oak Street. I nodded and left. As I got outside, tears started to flow. I wiped my eyes and went home to dinner.
I avoided the store after that and I also avoided Mike and Steve. I would lay in the yard and read a book. The Hardy Boys. Their adventures could really start my imagination going. While reading one afternoon, a white car pulled up in front of the store. It was Frank. He closed half a day on Wednesday so he could go to the wholesale house for stock. As he got out of his car I tried to get to our porch but it was too late. "Doug" he yelled "Can you give me a hand?" I didn't really want to but I went over to his car. He popped the trunk and it was filled with half cases of canned goods, cereal and other store stock. "Could you carry this inside for me?" he asked. I nodded and picked up the first case, carried them inside and started stacking them on the floor. It took about 20 minutes and when I was done, Frank said "Grab yourself an RC, you worked up a sweat." I opened the cooler and grabbed a cool bottle and opened it. Frank looked at me expectantly. Remembering my manners, I said "Thanks". "No" he said "Thank you, you earned it." Here..." he said as he held out his hand to me and dropped a shiny quarter into my hand. I noticed his hands were large. "I can use some help here from time to time, you interested?" he asked. "Sure" I said "Just tell me what you want me to do." I grinned. He smiled at me and suddenly things were so much better.
Over the next few years I saw many sides of Frank. Sometimes, he was like a slave driver. Demanding everything be done a certain way. "Don't sweep too fast" he'd say "You'll raise dust and nobody wants to buy dirty food." Or he'd tell me to make sure all the cans faced forward so that they were easier to read and looked neater. I used to watch as he'd take care of customers. He was the same with a lady buying her weekly groceries as he was with a kid that had 2 cents and could not make up their mind. "It's all about people" he'd say "Treat em right or someone else will." But Frank had his soft side too. I remember that he had a milk club. He had a card he punched whenever you bought a gallon of milk and after you bought 12 gallons, the 13th one was free. One day, Mom sent me to the store for milk. She handed me a whole handful of small change she had gotten in tips. I got the milk and lugged it to the counter and started counting out the change. While I was doing that, Frank opened up the little metal box that held the milk club cards and exclaimed "Well, how bout that? This gallon is free." He shoved the pile of change back across the counter to me. Thinking back now, we must have bought a dairy full of milk because we sure got a lot of free milk.
There was a blizzard one winter. Snow was drifted everywhere and cars could not move. Many businesses were closed but not Frank. His store was open but the stock was dwindling. On Wednesday afternoon when he closed for the day, Frank and I took my sled and pulled it 3 miles to the Wonder Bread bakery and picked up loaves of bread, then stopped at Prairie View Dairy which was on the way and loaded crates of milk on the sled. It took both of us to pull and push the sled but we made it. Frank explained "many of the people around here are old, and my store is the only place they can get to." The next morning I got up early and started shoveling snow. Frank's garage was half a city block from the street and the snow was drifted as high as 6 feet, but I shoveled it all the way to the street. Now he could get his car out. Frank was amazed and gave me $2.00 for my morning of work. I realize now that even though he could get his car to the street, he couldn't go any farther. And even though my labor was in vain, Frank rewarded me for the effort.
Over the next few years, I learned so much about the store, the people and even about life. I learned to use the cash register and wait on customers. A few of the customers would jokingly call me Frank Jr. I know now what an honor it was to be called that. By now, I was a teenager, and started to make more money mowing lawns and doing odd jobs for people. I was also discovering girls. My time at the store dwindled and finally the only time I went there was as a customer. One day I noticed a young boy sweeping the sidewalk in front of the store. I grinned. It was almost like I had graduated. Graduated from the School of Frank! The lessons were tough but have served me well in my lifetime. I learned people skills, compassion, responsibility and most of all.. pride! Pride in my work and pride in myself. For value received, I should have never accepted the dollars and quarters I got for the labor at Chandler's Food Shop.. I should have paid Frank! His lessons have been so valuable and shaped a boy headed down the wrong road into a responsible, compassionate, caring person who learned to stand up for himself and to look a man in the eyes with pride.
I went into the Navy when I turned 17 and Mom moved to another neighborhood when I went away. I only saw Frank one more time after that. I was home on leave and stopped by his shop in my dress blue uniform. As the bell rang as I entered the store, I looked him in the eyes and smiled at him. We had come full circle for I could see tears welling up in his tired eyes. Frank wanted to take a picture of me in my uniform so we stepped outside. In the Navy, I had to salute officers, but that day.. On Oak Street... I saluted Frank Chandler because he deserved it and I owed him that much. |
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