Philly Days Continued...

Again I wish I had photos of the people that I am remembering from my days in Philadelphia. As stated in my previous post. I worked at an art framing shop on Walnut Street. I worked for a very nice Jewish man who befriended every stray dog (or person) who came to him.

I feel compelled to write about one of the stray people that hung around the shop. The reason I feel compelled is so that someone remembers him. His name was Nesty. Short for Ernesto. He was an adorable 80-ish short Italian man. He would make his rounds on Walnut Street visiting different businesses during his day. We jokingly called him the king of Walnut Street.

He was always dressed sort of dapper and wore a hat. I don't remember him talking about having a family or children, so partly I want to write about him so that he is remembered.

He would come in to the store and sit in one of the chairs we had that mostly were for friends of the owner who came in to chew the fat. Nesty was a little lonely I think. He told me of his girlfriend who had Alzheimer's. He told me that she was a true lady. She wore Feragamo shoes and was always dressed to a tee. He said she was always a lady until the Alzheimer's. He said she would get a bit mean and say hurtful things that she would never have said before the disease. He once gave me a couple of gold bangles that were hers. I was truly honored.

Nesty loved peppers and egg sandwiches. He would sometimes eat his lunch in the shop and he would always say that the other old guys he knew always wanted his peppers and eggs.

I'm not sure where he actually lived. I assumed it was someplace downtown and that it might have been a senior living facility.

I must say that I don't know what became of him. Because this was over 20 years ago he may be deceased.

I would like to say that when you meet an older person who wants to talk. Give them a little time and consideration. They may be alone and lonely and you may be the only person that has spoken to or acknowledged their existence that day.

Nesty, I'm not sure if you ever had children, but please know you are remembered by someone. Happy Fathers Day and God bless you where ever you are.

My Philly Days

Walnut Street Now

It's been a few years since I lived in Philly. Over 20 years. I was young and newly married and we moved to the outskirts because of my husbands job. I found a job in downtown Philly working at a frame shop. I took the train in every day. Basically I was the counter person who took measurements for artwork our customers wanted framed.

The shop was on Walnut Street. It was owned by a super goodhearted man named Bill. Besides myself he employed a framer who worked above the shop and Bill worked in the back. The framer had worked for him for over 20 years. Bill also employed his son and another young fellow to keep him company.

There were always a cast of local characters that hung out or stopped in the shop. They came in to see Bill. He would never turn someone down if they needed money. If a homeless person came by and needed a little cash he would think of something they could do like sweep the sidewalk.

I started writing this blog about the employee who worked upstairs and a few other characters that came and went, but now as I write this I think I need to discuss Bill instead. I have not thought about him in a long time.

I would have to guess that at the time Bill was probably between 50 and 60 years old. He looked older. He was skinny and balding. He had a pencil mustache and few teeth in his mouth. He moaned and groaned a lot because I think he was actually ill but not diagnosed. He tended to pick his butt a lot and I vaguely remember him talking about his prostrate. He moaned and groaned in Yiddish.

I was the only woman working there and the guys never held back. They talked about personal things all the time and sometimes things that were not exactly appropriate for mixed company. One story was of the framer who worked upstairs and a big butted mistress he had that used to come to the shop and "spend time" with him upstairs. Upstairs guy, I actually forget his name, bragged that this woman liked when he put vice clamps on her nipples. - Did he really need to share that with me? I never went upstairs. That was his domain. He was too dumb to be creepy and I never felt in danger.

Bill would tell stories about his youth. He wanted me to know that he used to be pretty good looking. The girl he wanted to marry married was Catholic like me and he could not marry her. He had to marry a nice Jewish girl. So he settled. He was married late in life. What Bill did not know was that the nice girl he settled for was probably the best thing that ever happened to him. She was kind and understanding. A very nice woman. She may not have been the looker he was comparing her to but she was a very good woman who loved him. I think he often wondered what it would have been like with the one that got away.

Bill was one of those guys who were too nice for their own good. He probably could have been pretty wealthy but he gave a lot away. He was always cutting people deals. Doing things for free for people he knew.

Bill was just a super nice guy who employed me when I first came to town. I googled the shop a few years back and it is no longer there. I also googled his name and could not find him. I am assuming he is deceased. He was a pretty good guy. I'm sure his family and friends miss him. If I ever get to Philly again I want to stop by the old shop and see what is there now and take a photo or two. Philly is definitely a town with ghosts. I'm sure that there are a few hanging out in that old building. (And one of them is wearing clamps on her nipples).