Good morning neighbor!
Over the past couple of weeks, I and some of my colleagues have reported the details of Kevin J. O’Neil’s plans to close Wilson’s Department Store as he prepares to retire.
We’ve talked to Kevin, city leaders, other businesses and longtime and new customers about their memories and their feelings about the closing, which will happen as soon as all of the merchandise and fixtures have been sold. Today, I’d like to talk about my memories, which go back as far as to when I was 5 or 6 years old. Let’s just say that was in the 1960s.
Wilson’s was “the store” when I was growing up. The downtown, and the anchor retail store, were bustling almost any time of the day or evening, but it was Friday evenings that my parents would load us up in the car and head to Main Street. We would shop for everything from shoes to a new dress, candy, stationary, cosmetics, bedding, housewares, anything we needed. We’d shop in the other men’s and women’s clothing stores. We’d shop in Woolworth’s. We might stop in the bakery if we got down there early enough. We’d do a lot of window shopping, but finally, we’d head into Wilson’s. It was usually our last stop, as I remember.
My mom loved to stop at the cosmetics counter to see what was new. In those days, she could sit on a stool and try new products with the help of Margaret Morin — I can’t believe I remember her name and can still see her face. An elegant woman who never had a hair out of place, she worked there for as long as I can remember, and her application of makeup was impeccable.
I don’t remember any of the other employees’ names, but I remember their faces as we made our way from department to department. The people who worked there were like friends or family. I looked forward to seeing them each week, even as a young child. It was one of the many constants in my life.
We’d always run into someone we knew — well, mostly someone our parents knew. We all seemed to have the same weekly routine, heading to downtown Greenfield on Friday night.
My dad worked at Kohler’s, an appliance store that was, as I remember, first located on Fort Square and later on River Street where Manny’s is now, for many years as a television repairman. That was in the day when they went into your home to do the repairs, so he knew just about everyone in the county, and by extension, so did my sister, mother and I. He spent his life in Franklin County, growing up in The Patch in Turners Falls, so he started getting to know people very early in life. I guess that’s why we stopped to talk to just about everyone we passed.
Anyway, I digress. When we went into Wilson’s, my sister Dorothy and I would fidget and yank on our parents’ shirts to indicate we’d had enough, only to be met with a stern look and a request to stand quietly for the next 10 or 15 minutes, though it was never just 10 or 15 minutes.
I remember always being in awe of how beautiful everything was in Wilson’s, how elegant, like its longtime cosmetics employee. When I received something from Wilson’s, typically on my birthday or Christmas, I felt like a queen. I remember the grand staircase and feeling like I was in a castle or a mansion, that I was someone special, when I climbed it. But what I remember most is the warmth I felt each time I entered that store, even years later. Customers always came first, and each was made to feel like they were the only one shopping there, even when it was crowded.
After we finished shopping, we’d sit in our car on Main Street and watch people walk by while we ate our snack. It’s hard to describe the feeling I got as I watched neighbors, teachers, friends, relatives walk by. Sometimes they’d notice us and come to the car and we’d have more conversation.
Later, after I grew up, I shopped at Wilson’s for items I needed for my kitchen and bedroom. I was registered at Wilson’s when I was getting married. When I started having children, I shopped for clothes for myself and them. When my first son was born in 1980 and the downtown was still quite busy with dozens of shoppers on Friday nights, I’d park on Main Street and head to Wilson’s with him in his stroller, all four seasons. I always went home with something I had bought there.
I was just at Wilson’s a month or so ago buying something at the cosmetics counter. Margarite Morin is no longer there, but I could almost feel her and my mom’s presence. Every time I stepped into Wilson’s over the years, I felt like I was home. I’m going to miss it, but I’ll hold on to the memories, and wish nothing but the best for Kevin and his family. Enjoy those grandchildren, Kevin.
Looking back, those times with my parents and sister were fun. I got to know a lot of people, either by face or name, and it was quite interesting when I would run into them as I went out into the community to do stories for The Greenfield Recorder years later. Many of the people who spent every Friday evening in Wilson’s in the 1960s have passed, including my parents, but the memories are ingrained and can be very comforting, especially when I’m missing Mom and Dad.
Reach Anita Fritz at 413-772-0261, ext. 269, or afritz@recorder.com.