Strange, how an inconsequential conversation can sometimes drag memories from the dusty corner of the mind. It was a question about the price of a single cigarette that shook loose some memories of Bayonne – memories of pinball, sandwiches, and the wisdom of Charlie.
“Kevin, listen, you have to go up the ladder. Never down,” Charlie used to tell me in a conspiratorial, hushed tone. It wasn’t a sole secret meant especially for my ears alone, because he offered this cherished pearl of wisdom to almost every kid who walked into his store. It was your typical Mom & Pop store without the mom. Its main staples were fresh milk and bread, newspapers, cigarettes, candy, and not much else. There was a pinball machine in the corner that seemed to ring all day.
It was also a refuge for a couple of young teens in an endless cycle to get away from school during lunch period. Eating sandwiches and playing pinball became a ritual, while Charlie gave us solid and sage advice for then and later on in life.
Affable and sincere, Charlie was recognized as a man first, a store-owner second. He never seemed to age to me, looking to be the same gruff, rustling, shuffling, open-faced, 60-year-old man from the time when I was 5 to 15.
He also didn’t preach when I foolishly took up smoking in high school and had, on occasion, been known to buy a “loosey” for a dime a stick. This was back at a time when there wasn’t an issue about selling cigarettes to minors. Also, Charlie never took us seriously, since we never had enough for a whole pack.
Reflecting on Charlie’s brought me back to a period in my life when everything was so much less complicated. Back to years when I had been carefree, simple and unfettered, full of innocent hope and dreams.
Charlie’s was a hub within a three-block radius where kids met en route to do errands for their parents. On a typical visit, I would meet friends from the neighborhood – like Jimmy, Willie, Pete, Stan, and most importantly, Danny and Greg, and their families too. I spent years of my life in that store, nestled eternally on 16th Street and Court Place.
Whenever I would stop by on an errand or just to visit friends, Charlie was in the store leaning against the counter, delivering his positive philosophy to whoever would listen. His store was the only place that sold a brand of crystal-clear cream soda. I don’t remember the brand, but that cold cream soda tasted fantastic in the hot summer – just another link I associate as a permanent part of Charlie’s legacy.
Charlie has gone on, and I’m fairly sure the small, charming landmark store on 16th Street is no more. Life goes on and I’m better for it having known Charlie. And I’m sure that’s true for the hundreds of kids he taught, telling them “To go up the ladder, not down.”
I say my goodbye to him and to my younger, foolish self by remembering the ringing, pinging, dinging and the occasional pop when someone won another free game on the pinball machine that was a fixture of the store.
In departing, I say to Charlie that although I never really made it up high on the ladder, I did plateau nicely.
Kevin Downes is a writer and former Bayonne resident. Comments on this essay can be sent to the author at: wrekedneck86@hotmail.com.