“As a youngster, I worked for an uncle who owned a men’s shop on South Broadway in St. Louis. I was getting hand-me-downs all the time, which I resented, so I figured I’d earn some money to get my own clothes. Then I worked for my other uncle, Dave, who had a store in Overland. I was more or less running it thought because as soon as I walked in the door, he left. I never thought I’d make my career in retail, but after getting out of the service, my wife was pregnant with our first child and I had to earn money. So I went back to work for Dave. I wanted to open my own shop, but the salespeople wouldn’t put competing stores next to each other. It felt like all the good men’s clothing brands were taken, so I looked at a location in Granite City. The woman who owned the building had a hat shop and a sideline of children’s wear. She asked, ‘Have you ever thought of getting into children’s wear?’ She got me thinking. My wife and my mom weren’t getting along, so my dad went around with me looking for a building to set up a men’s store. He was doing it to be a dutiful father but didn’t really have enthusiasm about the idea. I realized if I kept my dad as my partner, my mom would be watching our spending and giving her ideas. Instead, my wife and I decided to go into children’s clothing. I found a location on Main Street in St. Charles and we opened in 1956.

There were a lot of Jewish merchants on Main Street, but most of us commuted from outside the area. When my family lived in University City, sometimes I’d meet a fella who had a shoe store and he’d drive me out to St. Charles. Often times I’d wait for him to pick me up on the street corner. One day I was standing there and saw all these people with ashes on their foreheads. I was like, ‘Am I out of my mind?’ Then when we got to St. Charles, I saw the same thing. I was like, ‘Am I seeing things?’ I had to ask someone to find out what it meant.”

📷| Colleen O’Connell Smyth