My father was 101 years old when he died in 2012…
He was born on May 2, 1910. And had he still been alive today, he'd be 115.
I was blessed to have such a caring and devoted father who did his best to raise me. To those who knew him, he was a compassionate, generous, and hardworking man, who was deeply loved and respected by many.
Both he and his partner, Nathan Vogel, owned and operated a neighborhood hardware and paint supply store in the South Bronx in New York City. He was also a licensed locksmith who sold and installed security gates as a part of his business.
My dad was known as a “Mister Fix-it.” There was almost nothing that he couldn't fix and restore to its original use. And this was especially appreciated by those who'd visit the store, because it was located in an impoverished area of the Bronx where many in the community struggled to make ends meet. It was also a crime infested area where burglaries were common. And where groups of junkies would hang on the rooftops of crowded tenement buildings, or on busy street corners where they would sell and shoot their drugs.
Yet it was in this section of the Bronx where my dad and his partner made an honest living working at the store. They were open six days per week. Monday through Friday, their hours were from 7 AM to 5 PM, and on Saturdays from 8 AM to 3 PM.
Due to the community's overall levels of poverty, my dad, and his partner Nat, often gave discounts to their customers. They would even extend credit when necessary, and it was not a big deal if a customer could not pay all he owed.
Seeing my dad and Nat in action, they got lots of hugs and handshakes from grateful patrons. Taking a few dollars off the cost of a product, or not having to pay for a particular item, may have meant the difference for a family being able to afford a loaf of bread or a box of cereal for their kids.
But in 1975 things would change. My Dad retired and moved to Florida, while his partner Nat retired a few years later. The store closed its doors, and nothing of it remains. It was turned into a seedy looking “after hours” social club by its new owners around 1977. And as of today, the storefront is unrecognizable.
But I have good memories of seeing how my father interacted with those in an economically deprived community, and how much they loved him for his easy-going friendly nature, and his generosity. He was truly a role model for me when it came to having a good work ethic.
My father was one of a kind. He was a good man, and I miss him greatly.
“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Love, your son, David.
D.B.
I was blessed to have such a caring and devoted father who did his best to raise me. To those who knew him, he was a compassionate, generous, and hardworking man, who was deeply loved and respected by many.
Both he and his partner, Nathan Vogel, owned and operated a neighborhood hardware and paint supply store in the South Bronx in New York City. He was also a licensed locksmith who sold and installed security gates as a part of his business.
My dad was known as a “Mister Fix-it.” There was almost nothing that he couldn't fix and restore to its original use. And this was especially appreciated by those who'd visit the store, because it was located in an impoverished area of the Bronx where many in the community struggled to make ends meet. It was also a crime infested area where burglaries were common. And where groups of junkies would hang on the rooftops of crowded tenement buildings, or on busy street corners where they would sell and shoot their drugs.
Yet it was in this section of the Bronx where my dad and his partner made an honest living working at the store. They were open six days per week. Monday through Friday, their hours were from 7 AM to 5 PM, and on Saturdays from 8 AM to 3 PM.
Due to the community's overall levels of poverty, my dad, and his partner Nat, often gave discounts to their customers. They would even extend credit when necessary, and it was not a big deal if a customer could not pay all he owed.
Seeing my dad and Nat in action, they got lots of hugs and handshakes from grateful patrons. Taking a few dollars off the cost of a product, or not having to pay for a particular item, may have meant the difference for a family being able to afford a loaf of bread or a box of cereal for their kids.
But in 1975 things would change. My Dad retired and moved to Florida, while his partner Nat retired a few years later. The store closed its doors, and nothing of it remains. It was turned into a seedy looking “after hours” social club by its new owners around 1977. And as of today, the storefront is unrecognizable.
But I have good memories of seeing how my father interacted with those in an economically deprived community, and how much they loved him for his easy-going friendly nature, and his generosity. He was truly a role model for me when it came to having a good work ethic.
My father was one of a kind. He was a good man, and I miss him greatly.
“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Love, your son, David.
D.B.