Robertsdale’s Greatest Mom and Pop Store

Gayle Faulkner Kosalko December 2022

(I recently came across this story that the late Jim Sandrick had shared with me about growing up in his family’s store. I thought it would appeal to all of you whose family owned one, those of you who shopped daily at one, or just like to reminisce about those days.)

My story begins in early fall of 1948. My parents, Frank and Gertrude Sandrick and my sister Pat and I were living in the rear house behind the Whiting Post Office. Seated with a large pot of soup in my wagon, I was pulled on my journey by my sister who was led by my Mom. We went down New York Avenue to Ohio then along 117th Street past the house on the corner of LaPorte where my wife Norma and I would raise our three children and live for over 25 years.

As we rolled down 117th we passed Central Avenue, the block my Mom was born on, then on to Roberts Avenue (Diamond Tap) turning left toward Indianapolis Blvd. There it was, right in the middle of downtown Robertsdale. It was a two story red brick building with an apartment upstairs. The address was 1716 Indianapolis Boulevard.

For the six months prior to our big move, my dad had already started a store which he rented from Cap Long where Piggy’s Tavern was on the corner of Pearl and the Blvd.

He sold candy, cigarettes, newspapers, pop, school supplies, and more. He had been so busy he never had time to put a name out front. People just started coming in to see what he had and, boom! sales took off. The business was growing rapidly, plus 1716 was vacant and had a huge three bedroom apartment above for us to live in. So my Mom and dad purchased the building from Joe Sullivan’s brother-in-law, Mr. Cavanaugh.  The previous tenant had been the Galles and Cannels grocery mart. When my folks first set foot in the store it was totally empty and it was BIG.

I have no memory of the store until I started working for my folks, although dad doesn’t ever remember me “working.” Anyway, I was in third grade and I was already the head of maintenance. I emptied all the garbage. There was a “garbage chute” in the soda fountain for napkins, straws etc. They were all shoved down the “chute” to a big box in the basement. That basement was sooooo big, dark, and dreary I bet I could have found a mummy if I dared to look. Having to clean the “chute” from below was always a thrill, reaching up to pull down all those ice cream soaked napkins, yuk! (that was before latex gloves).

In the days before we knew it was air pollution, I used to burn all the garbage in a big 50 gallon drum in the alley. One time some kid pushed me against the can and I stopped myself with my hand. It was cool to see my finger prints blow up like a balloon. I also stocked the shelves I could reach. This gave me a chance to know our inventory.

The entryway was in the center of the building with display windows on either side. When you walked into the store the first display on your right was "the cigar counter." We must have had two dozen different types of cigars. My job was to keep water in the humidor. My favorite cigar was a rum crook. The other cigars I tried all tasted worse than a cattail wrapped in the newspaper, but the rum crook was both sweet smelling and sweet tasting.

Behind the cigars were the cigarette cases. All the various brands were stacked up vertically in a bracket so we could pull a pack out from the bottom without disturbing the stack. A pack at that time was twenty cents. A carton was two bucks.

Next down the line were wall cases with glass doors then our work aisle, then a row of glass display cases all filled with wallets, cuff links, watches, purses. You name it, we sold it.

Next came one of four check out stations with a cash register. At this station, we did our gift wrapping. Next was the penny candy case, three levels stocked with all the stuff you remember as a kid and I got to eat whatever I wanted. Was I the luckiest kid in town or what? And then there were the frozen candy bars or the banana splits I ate for supper washed down with a Grape NEHI shake.

Next was the school and office supplies. Last on that side was the Robertsdale branch of the Whiting Post Office. See what a great businessman my dad was? Who would have thought to have a post office in the back of the store as the lost leader.

Just beyond the post office was our newspaper, magazine and comic rack. Instead of studying, I was able to read every comic, every issue… and I did.

Now on your right at the front door was a Schraff Candy refrigerated display unit. Down the center of the store was a large display table filled with all the latest or HOT items. All along the South wall were Gibson and Buzza Cardoza greeting cards, wrapping paper and ribbon. Whiting News was (and is) the Hallmark store.

At the end of the card racks was the employee entry behind the ice cream counter. First was our "heated" Kelling nut display unit with a revolving nut rack in the center surrounded by trays of cashews and all the other nuts of the day like the "party mix. " Next to that was cash register number two. But in front of the register was the "penny machine" (my dad was a genius). Folks would put their pennies or dimes in (nickels and quarters wouldn't fit). You would drop in a coin then strike the lever with your finger and the coin would bounce its way down to the pot. If a coin landed in any of the last three shelves on either side, the winner would get a prize.

Next to the penny machine were ten short stools. Behind all this was our lifesaver candy rack (I know you have seen them in antique stores). We sold all the candy bars and gums of the time and we also offered a variety of "frozen" candy bars. My favorite was the Almond Joy and the Mars bar.

The next door opened up to a 50 or 75 pound block of ice which would have to be hand chipped for cokes and phosphates etc.. We had ten different syrups and sauces for sundaes and banana splits. I think sundaes were 35 and splits were 95 cents. Nothing was more than a buck. We had two water sources, one for water and the other was fizz for sodas (hard spray) and phosphates (soft bubble). Then of course, we had our Green River syrup dispenser (an inverted gallon bottle) and a Coke machine that automatically mixed the syrup with the phosphate.

Last, but not least, was the hard packed ice cream. Now this was the 50's ,pre Baskin and Robbins etc. We had twelve, yes, twelve different flavors of hard packed ice cream to pick from. (and guess who got to pick the flavors of the week?) A single dip was 7 cents, double for 14 cents and a triple dip for 21 cents. During the summer we would have a line of folks going out the door. It always amazed me, a hot summer night (no air in those days) folks from two blocks away would order two or three triple dip cones which we would lay on wax paper and they would walk home. They came back all the time so the ice cream must have been cold enough to survive the trip.

The Robertsdale Police and Fire Station was on the corner of Myrtle and the Blvd. Sometimes the police or the fireman would call in their order then send a team down to pick up their ice cream cones.

My dad told me that the wall display units in our store came from Dan Gardner's Drug Store (where Sunrise Restaurant is). When my parents were courting, Gardner’s was one of the places they were always running into each other. I guess that was before my mom started hanging around the Hoosier looking for her favorite usher.

My dad remembers a day when Bing Crosby and Bob Hope came in. Bob bought a pack of Chesterfields (15 cents) and paid cash. I guess they were working in Chicago at the time and were on their way to South Bend for a Notre Dame football game.

Former White Sox great, Johnny Mostil (who lived on the corner of Roberts and 116th)was a regular customer of ours. At the time, he was retired from baseball but scouting for the Sox. Once he came in with an old buddy of his, Jim Thorpe. This was not long after Thorpe had lost all of his Olympic medals. He was really down on his luck. Johnny helped him get a job in the Roby Trailer Court on the Blvd. as a groundskeeper. Mr. Thorpe would walk down to our store about once a week to pick up a few things or maybe just to have a coke. He never said too much. I just remember him being very quiet and very polite.

We had our regulars like Cheer's. One Hammond cop would come in at least once a day. He reminded me of Humphrey Bogart. He’ say, “Hey kid, give me a Bromo (Bromo seltzer).” He would always mix his own in a glass of water with a shot of lemon syrup. One of the few downsides of being the son of the owner was anytime there was a big game, football or basketball, the kids scheduled to work would call off. I was the all time replacement. It was usually quiet on game night until after the game when a bunch of kids would come in for cokes and stuff. While it was quiet I would "explore" the store, stock, sweep, whatever.

My mom would never allow rock and roll on the store radio, so since I had to listen to Perry, Frank and whoever, that’s when I started singing and loved it forever. I always thanked my mom for making me a singer.

I was kind of a nerdy kid and found gym class to be a bummer, but I felt good knowing that I was the BEST soda jerk around. Customers would have me paged (we lived upstairs) to come down and make their favorite concoction. And girls, giggly girls, would come in and load the counter. One night it got soooo loud and my folks had an intercom that was always on so they could monitor the store. With a store full of kids and the counter two deep, here comes this booming voice of a female God, my 4 and 1/2feet tall mother.

“ Jim, What is going on down there!” I answered her, “Nothing, mom, just some kids from Whiting causing trouble but they are leaving.”

As you can tell, I went to Clark, so it was easier to blame it on those Whiting kids.

One night after a game Mike Fech stayed behind after the crowd left. He was bored, it was quiet, so we started experimenting and downing a bunch a cokes with various flavors that we could come up with. We would call it a "garbage can coke" and it contained a hit of each flavor syrup we had (chocolate, pineapple, lemon, butterscotch. You name it then we’d fill the rest with coke and wham!.. you could run a mile in a minute with all that sugar and caffeine.

I usually opened every Sunday morning since we lived upstairs. The papers would come Saturday night then the "news" section would be there early Sunday morning. It would take me three trips with a dolly to bring all the Sunday papers in. Then I would have to insert the flyers into each "newspaper." After each mass or church service in town, flocks of folks would come in for the paper, smokes, milk, etc. It was a zoo.

We were never robbed but we did have more than a few shoplifters. When a suspect would come in, the clerk in charge would quietly call upstairs on the intercom to let us know. My job was to crawl into a secret section above the ceiling and spy. I would see a kid stuff a baseball bat in his pants and head for the door. I would signal my pop who would be waiting for them. It didn't happen a lot but we had our special types. The downside was that almost every time my dad kicked someone out of the store for stealing, if it was one of the "gang," they would be waiting for me after school and rough me up. So any morning after a "sighting," I would find various, creative ways to go home, like back up Stanton to the tracks then down to the Blvd. It was a long walk but hey, I wasn't stupid nor was I a fighter. Except for that one time (like the kid in Christmas Story, Ralph,) I had had all I could take of their bullying. I was tired of walking all around town to get home. So this one time coming home from St. John, there was a bunch waiting for me in the field on the corner of Lincoln and Reese. This one kid (who had been exiled the night before) came at me. I can’t tell you what happened but I remember breaking the ice with the back of his head. After that, most kids didn't bother me anymore.

On Sundays, my dad let my buddies and I build a club house downstairs in a small store room. Just about every Sunday instead of going to church, the guys would grab a coke, a magazine and head down to our club room. As folks would come in from various churches, I would find out what the sermon was about and report to the guys so when they went home, they would be able to answer any challenge from their parents.

“Did you go to church today?”

“ Yes, dad.”

“Well, who had the service?”

“I don't remember his name but he was a visitor.”

This cost me a lot of points with God but my friends thought I was great.

At some point, my dad converted our main store room to provide for additional merchandise. We added cameras and supplies, sporting goods (bats, gloves, uniforms) American Flyer trains and plastic model planes, and cars. What a great place to spend my days!

He also sold bowling balls, shoes, and shirts. He would draw an original design for the back of each team’s shirt then send them out to be embroidered. They were wonderful, what a treasure any one of them would be today but alas, he never kept a single drawing.

Everything was going well for us. Business was booming. Then around 1958 Jewel opened its first supermarket just down the street. Before, a grocery store sold groceries. The butcher store sold meat. Every little mom and pop had their niche. But Jewel had it all, everything.

At one time, we out sold all the drug stores on 119th street combined. My folks supplied many of those stores with products from Ponds, Colgate, Bayer and other name brands.

There were at least three Drug Stores on 119th. Central Drug on the corner of 119th and New York and was owned by Mr. Pekarik then sold to Eddie and Ernie Korosi. The second drug store was next to the cab stand. It had been owned by Frank Kovalchik but was sold to Dave Tolchinsky. Then there was the one on the first floor of the Central State Bank Building which was Standard Pharmacy owned by Eddy Branman. Others came in later like Leo Zelinek, Richard's Pharmacy and Ralph McCampell in Area Pharmacy.

Sad, all those stores are gone now. Each was unique. The owners ran the store. The owner filled your script. It was a great time. I remember when our folks went out on a date we (my sisters and brothers) would call down and ask whoever ever working to make two chocolate milk shakes, a banana split and put them on the back steps (we were not allowed to go down to the store when our folks were out)

Had we only known…we sold Topps baseball cards and I had complete sets of the teams from the 50's and early 60's. After the store closed and while I was in the Navy, my folks walked away from the building and everything that was in it, my American Flyer trains and all my baseball cards. But the memories I have, even though we worked long and hard, are very special.

Our store never closed. We would be open Christmas Eve until after midnight mass for last minute shoppers. Oh, the people I met and got to know there. I could walk through that store today in my head and find anything you want because I stacked the shelves and I knew exactly where anything was. Just like in “It’s a Wonderful Life,”…My dad didn't own a savings and loan but during its time, our family’s mom & pop was just a warm, wonderful, special place to come into.

As business slowed, my dad went back to the mill. I was in high school; my sister Pat was away at college. My Mom still had three younger kids to care for and now she was running the store. My Mom was a real trooper. She was a giant. Not only was she a great Mom but a loving, supporting wife.

There is a line in a song from the King and I that perfectly describes my parents. The lyrics go…"He will not always say what you would have them say, but now and then he'll say something wonderful… he has a thousand dreams that won’t come true, you know that he believes in them and that’s enough for you.”

My Mom believed in my dad and followed his dreams. How lucky could a little boy be to be born of these two people.

All throughout my childhood, I would look out our living room window and there Ray Pacholski would be sitting on his stool in Volders Tap. As I grew older, anytime I drove down the boulevard there was Ray, sitting on that same stool in that same window for years. The window is empty now. No one is anywhere anymore. There’s no Royal Blue, no Russell's or Bayus TV repair, no Baritone or Mansfield Shoemaking or repair, no Jansens Produce Mart, no Sandrick Brothers Hardware. There were others, of course, each shop unique, run by the owners, mom and pops, all gone.

And I am so glad I was a part of that wonderful time in the history when towns were filled with mom and pop stores… the owners and more importantly, the customers who relied on you and became part of your family.