Category Archives: Photos

Jul 12 2012
1 Comment
Advertisements, Directories, Photos, Stores

A Neighbor’s in Need: UPDATE

John Floyd II outside the Laurel Art Center in April, where he also went to photograph the closing of another Laurel icon.

Last month, I wrote about the plight of John Floyd II, the kind and gregarious Laurel native who’s contributed so many wonderful photos, artifacts, and historical data to share with Lost Laurel.

John, who has lived frugally in the same home for some 46 years—the home of his late stepdad, Harry Fyffe (of Laurel’s legendary Fyffe’s Service Center)—recently saw his home sold at the annual Prince George’s County Tax Auction in May, after falling behind on his 2011 property tax bill. Earning only approximately $10,000 last year from his eBay sales—his sole means of income—and having been saddled with numerous veterinary bills, he simply didn’t have the money. And the county’s tax laws are harsh, to say the least—there’s no partial payment or installment plan; it’s literally all or nothing. John was given until June 30th to come up with over $3,000 he owed. If he missed that deadline, the debt would balloon to over $7,000 when the 2012 tax bill is added on, along with the usual host of penalties and additional fees—and that imposing total would be due no later than July 31st. After that point, John’s redemption window would be slammed shut, and the new tax lien owners would be free to initiate foreclosure and eviction proceedings.

Not wishing to see that happen to anyone—let alone a dear friend whose photos inspired this very blog—I asked readers to join me in donating whatever they could to help John meet these deadlines and save his childhood home—and you did.

In only a few short days, I’m very happy to report that John had received just over $1,000 in donations, renewing his hopes of getting through this harrowing ordeal! In addition to the PayPal contributions and checks, folks even offered to drop off food and toys for the many cats John takes care of. Others helped by purchasing goods from his eBay store and referring friends. And although our little benefit didn’t raise the total amount, it was certainly an overwhelming outpouring of generosity from people who cared enough to help.

Fortunately, another generous soul was willing to loan John the remaining $2,400 he needed, and drove him to Upper Marlboro to make the payment just a day before the amount would have more than doubled. The immediate crisis averted, John can rest a little bit easier knowing that his home is once again safe—for now. But the experience has understandably rattled this genial chap who’s so hesitant to ask for or accept charity, and he’s already stressing about his next daunting challenge: repaying the loan by the end of the year, as well as the new property tax bill, which will be arriving any day now. More than anything, John wants to avoid a repeat performance.

And speaking of performances, if you read the original story, you’ll remember that John is a wonderfully talented musician who has played with countless ensembles over the years. Unfortunately, that career effectively ended with the demise of his last vehicle nearly a decade ago. This past May, he marched for the first time in years with the West Laurel Rag Tag Band in the Main Street Festival. I caught up with him this past Saturday, as he once again carried the giant antique Sousaphone in the 4th of July parade on what was easily the hottest one in years. Like everyone in this storied local band that made its first appearance back in 1983, the heat couldn’t temper John’s patriotic and civic spirits. If tough financial times couldn’t do it, neither could this heatwave!

John Floyd (back left carrying the Sousaphone) marches with the West Laurel Rag Tag Band past the now-closed Laurel Mall during the city’s 4th of July Parade. (Photos: Richard Friend)

John marching with the band on another hot day earlier this year during the Main Street Festival.

The 4th Street parade route is a familiar one for John; not just because he lives only a block away, but because he’s marched it since his Laurel High School band days in the early 1970s. That’s him as a young lad in the front, holding the trombone. Bandmaster Harvey Beavers is at left in, as John called it, “his ice cream suit”.

1975 LHS Homecoming Parade. (Kodak 110 Instamatic print by Phyllis R. Fyffe, Royal Blue Ltd. archives)

John at the 1973 LHS Homecoming, with Drum Major Jackie Jones. (Kodak 126 Instamatic print by Phyllis R. Fyffe, Royal Blue Ltd. archives)

John, Jackie, and Mr. B (sans ice cream suit) at the 2009 4th of July Parade. (Photo: Joe Stevick, Royal Blue Ltd. archives)

While we’re still on the topic of parades…

Thanks to John, this year I had the pleasure of meeting band director Bill Stevick and his wonderfully talented family after the big event, at their annual post-parade picnic! Believe it or not, 2013 will mark the 30th anniversary of the West Laurel Rag Tag Band. It’s membership has ebbed and flowed over these three decades, but the band has literally played on—consistently delighting Laurel twice a year: at the Main Street Festival and the 4th of July Parade. I hear there’s talk of possibly retiring the band after next year’s landmark anniversary, but let’s hope that’s not true! The folks who make up the Rag Tag Band are the heart of these homegrown events; and in many ways, the very heart of Laurel. Make sure you see them next year, and encourage them to keep this great tradition going!

West Laurel Ragtag Band Director Bill Stevick and me at the post-parade picnic. (Photos: John Floyd II)

Getting back to the topic at hand, I’ve got a number of Lost Laurel goodies to mail out to everyone who so generously donated to John Floyd’s cause. I’m in the process of sorting through the receipts that John has forwarded to me, and determining who gets what. (I volunteered an auction of sorts for those who were the first to donate specific milestone amounts, and you guys are cleaning me out!) 🙂 I may have to contact several of you in order to get a mailing address; but if you donated $25 or more, please feel free to already go ahead and email me that information (richard_friend@mac.com), or send it via direct message on the Lost Laurel Facebook page. There are some vintage Laurel posters and framed Marian Quinn prints going to some, but everyone who donated $25 or more will get a reproduction of the classic 1981 Delaney’s Irish Pizza Pub menu. I’ve just had a supply printed, and they’re ready to go!

I want to point out, however, that the fundraiser is by no means over. We’ve helped solve John’s immediate problem, but his financial situation is still extremely fragile, and I fear it will be for at least the coming year. On top of everything else, John’s computer is now on the fritz. It’s nearly 10 years old, and it’s the very lifeline to his modest income. And there’s yet another concern—his home is without air conditioning. John has lived without it for years without complaint, but as he’s wont to do, he’s more concerned about the ill effects this extraordinary heat is having on his cats. Counting every penny, (and knowing that he ultimately needs them both) he’s trying to decide which appliance he needs to save toward first.

Those of you who’ve already sent donations, I thank you again from the proverbial bottom of my heart. I hope you realize what a genuinely good deed you’ve done, and how your contribution didn’t merely go to some faceless charitable organization, (not that there’s anything wrong with that) but to a real human being—a good man who’s lived right here in Laurel for some 50 years; a man who’s fought fires with the Laurel Volunteer Fire Department, marches in our civic parades, and who knows and appreciates the town’s history—and residents—like few others.

If you’re able to spare even a bit, I assure you it’s going to a very good cause. I’ve got a bunch more Delaney’s menus available for anyone who donates $25 or more, but please remember that you don’t have to give in the double or triple digits to really help John out! Instead of buying that cup of coffee from Starbucks today, or downloading that new song or iPhone app, please consider sending even a dollar or two to John Floyd—literally every bit helps. There’s no deadline or minimum donation to worry about, and it only takes a minute to send funds securely direct to John’s PayPal account.

If I haven’t already made it abundantly clear, John is a one-of-a-kind friend who enjoys sharing his vast knowledge and resources of all things Laurel—the depth of which continues to surprise even me. His most recent gift to Lost Laurel is one that I never thought I’d see again, and is proving to be an unprecedented aide in documenting Laurel’s retail history in the 1980s—nearly two dozen Laurel telephone directories dating back to 1986! These include ads and listings for the mall and all of the shopping centers, making it easier to determine when various stores arrived in Laurel… and, of course, when they left.

Not only are these books a treasure trove of dates and locations, they hold rare ads for places that didn’t typically run ads in the Laurel Leader—or anywhere else. Places like Pipeline Surf Shop, which from 1989–90, shared space with the legendary Bikes Plus at 308 Compton Ave.

Yes, I realize it’s a bit odd to get excited about inheriting a shelf of obsolete phone books. But from a historian’s perspective, I assure you it’s quite awesome. The library doesn’t even have these anymore. Moreover, they’ll provide me with an ample supply of blog and Facebook updates in the weeks, months, and years to come.

Lastly—and this is important as it undoubtedly affects countless others in John’s situation—here’s a link to a WTOP article from earlier this week that details exactly what John is going through with this property tax ordeal. It’s a frightening concept that many homeowners probably aren’t even aware of—especially when one considers that people are literally losing their homes over as much as $400. Here’s an excerpt:

• If the taxes aren’t paid, the government auctions the lien to investors. Past investors include JPMorgan Chase, Bank of America and people who respond to Internet get-rich schemes, the report said. Homes typically are sold at steep discounts.

• For a limited time, the homeowner may buy back the home by paying to the investors the purchase price of the lien, plus interest, fees and other costs. That’s possible because investors haven’t bought the home itself _ they have purchased the tax lien, which gives them the right to seize the home later.

• If the owner fails to pay all the costs, investors can sell the home at a big profit compared with the cost of buying the tax lien.

The report said state governments should make it easier for homeowners to retake their homes after tax lien sales. It said they should limit the interest and penalties investors can charge and increase court oversight.

It also called on local governments to let people pay back taxes or fees to investors on an installment plan, and to increase notice to homeowners and make sure they understand their rights.

Tax lien sales differ from most foreclosures, which happen when people fall behind on mortgage payments. In many states, homes sold because of tax debts can be sold for only the amount of back taxes owed.

That means a $200,000 home might fetch only $1,200, the report said. In the process, homeowners can lose thousands of dollars in home equity that they have built up by making monthly payments.

Kudos to WTOP for shining a light on this, and hopefully enough voices will be heard to convince local governments to at least start making it easier for people—honest people like John who’ve fallen on tough times—to bring their payments up to date without the unnecessary threat of actually losing their homes.

Many thanks again to you all—please keep the good will coming, and let’s make sure our friend John is securely back on his feet once and for all!

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
Jul 05 2012
12 Comments
Artifacts, Directories, Photos, Signs

Laurel Shopping Center/Cinema Sign Replaced

Technically, I haven’t lived in Laurel for about 15 years. But being just around the Beltway in Northern Virginia, I do enjoy coming back for frequent visits; and for photographs and research for Lost Laurel. Maintaining that close proximity to my old hometown is particularly important to me when things happen—like when buildings are torn down, or when malls are closing their doors.

While I enjoy a west coast vacation as much as the next guy, I was sad to learn that the old Laurel Shopping Center Cinema sign was quickly (and apparently without much advanced notice) dismantled last week while I was in Los Angeles. Had I known, I would’ve hopped onto said Beltway in a heartbeat to get as many photos of the process as possible. Fortunately, there were some like-minded readers who happened to be nearby, who did just that—a big thanks to those who posted them and tipped me off to the impending changes!

There were also a few surprises to be found as the old sign was pulled apart… but more on that in a moment. First, let’s take a look at a few photos I’ve found of the sign from the past decade or so—a decade which saw a rapid deterioration of one of the most prominent signs along the Route 1 corridor.

Photo: Kingkongphoto & http://www.celebrity-photos.com (Flickr)

The above photo brings back vivid memories of dusk at Laurel Shopping Center, despite the unusual selection of films. These are the same neon hues that I recall when The Breakfast Club was highlighting the marquee in 1985. But by March 2010—and after at least one period of closure—the Cinema had reopened with an apparent emphasis on Bollywood films.

Photo: Kingkongphoto & http://www.celebrity-photos.com (Flickr)

Admittedly, I haven’t seen a film in that theater since 1995’s Braveheart, when the sign was already showing its age badly. Over the next few years, the neon lights that comprised the word “CINEMA” gradually blew out and/or broke, and weren’t replaced. Equally visually-crippling, sometime after Laurel Centre officially rebranded itself as “Laurel Mall” in April 1998, the sign lost its oval Laurel Centre logo which co-branded it with Laurel Shopping Center. The result was a blank white, functionless oval that projected off the sign like a tumor.

 

And when the Cinema finally closed again, the sign sat unused at all, simply gathering rust. I’d actually been wondering if there were going to be any plans to tear it down… before it eventually fell down on its own.

(Photo: Dan Gross, MD Gazette)

(Photo: Dan Gross, MD Gazette)

Fast-forward to just a couple of weeks ago, when a whimsical message appeared on the old marquee:

Photo: Federal Realty

Sure enough, within days—and despite the vicious DC heatwave I managed to avoid while in LA—friends were posting photos on Facebook of the sign coming down. And it was in this first one, by Joe Leizear, that something caught my eye:

Photo: Joe Leizear

Do you see it, too? Red lettering.

The word “LAUREL”in large, red block letters—not something that I had ever seen on the Cinema sign. In fact, it had been hidden beneath the Cinema marquee all along. I realized that the Cinema sign had merely covered the original Laurel Shopping Center sign, which I never had the chance to see before in person. In fact, it was only while recently digging through old directories that I came across a logo representation of it—this one from 1976:

 

 

Subsequent photos, such as the one below, showed the additional elements of the original sign, including the end of the arrow—which had been obscured all this time by the clumsy “Laurel Shopping Center” top band and aforementioned oval protrusion which covered/replaced the arrowhead:

(Photo: Federal Realty, via Laurel Patch)

Facebook user Spleenless Jen shared some fantastic images of what was left of the original panels before they were dismantled, shedding even more light on the faded red typography that had been hidden for over three decades:

(Photo: Spleenless Jen)

(Photo: Spleenless Jen)

(Photo: Spleenless Jen)

That brings us to the new sign.

I’ve seen a few photos floating around, including an early artist’s rendering (the signature type of which has been modified in the final product, apparently).

Illustration: Federal Realty

Photo: Lisa Geiger

What to make of this more modernized and functional signage, which includes a digital screen and a colorful, decorative motif? Is it an improvement? Over a rusted, misused sign that was likely beyond repair—yes, absolutely. As a promising retail beacon that will draw shoppers for decades to come? Frankly, I’m not that optimistic.

For starters, nothing about the new sign is unique or differentiates it from countless other shopping centers. It’s not necessarily the sign’s fault, mind you—it takes more than just a sign to successfully brand a franchise. Unless someone is planning to update the entire shopping center and integrate the new motif—or at least the colors, to some degree—they’re stuck with a new sign that simply doesn’t fit the shopping center it’s intended to represent.

Worse, from a functionality standpoint, I would be deeply concerned about the feasibility of maintaining that video screen. Not to be a downer, but how long before a vandal (pedestrian or motorist) decides to shatter or otherwise deface it? Let’s be honest—Laurel has always had its share of ne’er-do-wells; and such fancy new devices—literally within arm’s reach—might as well include a sign with a bright red target that says “please vandalize me”. And historically, the shopping center and mall both have not exactly been great about maintaining features that require, well, maintenance. Remember the unique revolving carousel platform in the mall’s center court that eventually stopped revolving? And the very sign that we’re now discussing? My point exactly. If and when these types of things break repeatedly, shopping center management is likely to simply stop fixing it. And when it’s literally the face of the shopping center, such as this sign will be—the first thing visitors see upon approaching—that’s not good.

Granted, I’ve never bought a giant neon sign for a shopping center before, nor have I designed one (yet). But as a designer, my priority would always be to ensure that whatever sign I implemented was relevant and suited its environment. I wouldn’t include decorative elements that weren’t reflective of the larger shopping center itself. If the surrounding area was prone to or accessible to vandals, I wouldn’t position expensive components like digital screens close to street/sidewalk level. Moreover, I’d want to know all I could about the shopping center and its origins, and design a complete brand that highlighted its best features and spoke to its historical significance—and have the sign be the linchpin of that brand. Consider a book cover design; it needs to properly represent the story within—and it needs to attract readers. A shopping center sign isn’t much different in that regard.

Laurel Shopping Center opened in 1956, and arguably saw its best days in the 1960s. (I wasn’t born yet, so I can’t attest to that). But by most accounts, the shopping center was profitable and ever-expanding—a growth that continued well into the 70s with the addition of Georgetown Alley. There have been some aesthetic modifications over the years, for better or worse: awnings and storefronts have evolved, most notably. But the core design has remained the same. It’s still fundamentally a 1960s open-air shopping center; something that could’ve been embraced in the design of the new sign rather than mocked. “The 60s called and they want this sign back”. Really? I think the 60s called and expressed their hope that somebody would’ve had the foresight to restore the shopping center’s original sign, rather than replace it with a generic model that most likely won’t survive a third of the time that its predecessor did.

Even that fleeting glimpse of the old sign’s red lettering and bold arrow reveals a timeless typography that could’ve been resurrected and repurposed into a more suitable, modern sign; a melding of past and present that suggests a long-standing shopping center that the community is proud of. The new sign just doesn’t accomplish that.

Our friend John Floyd II supplied the following photos today, showing the base portion of the new sign already in place. Because the top piece had not yet been attached, he was able to point out something interesting: once again, part of the original sign is still being used—those two vertical I-beams. That original sign simply won’t die, it seems. He also astutely noted the issue with the decorative motif—even more bluntly than I had.

“That funky orange-and-brown block design on the sign’s plinth looks like the 1960s got traded in favour of the 1970s! Very disco and Brady Bunch-esque!”

Photo: John Floyd II

Photo: John Floyd II

Photo: John Floyd II

Photo: John Floyd II

Coincidentally, the Laurel Centre/Mall notoriously replaced all of its original brown floor tile and wooden accents in 1991—less than 12 years after the mall opened—because management felt that it was “too 1970s”. Ironic that a 1970s pattern would now emerge on the brand new sign for Laurel Shopping Center.

Vintage 1970s drapes. Photo: monkeysox (Flickr)

Tagged , , , , , , ,
Jun 19 2012
4 Comments
Photos, Signs, Uncategorized

A Neighbor’s In Need: Let’s Help!

Last Fall, I was researching the history of Steward Manor Apartments when I stumbled across a photo on eBay.

Photo: John Floyd II, 1974.

It was part of a set of ten original prints being offered, which documented various vehicles from the Laurel Volunteer Fire Department and Laurel Rescue Squad in the 1970s. This particular image featured Laurel Rescue 19 (also known as “The Heavy”) leaving its quarters and turning onto Lafayette Ave.; and there in the distance was the familiar southwest corner of my old neighborhood—Steward Manor Apartments. Even the old red Volkswagen Karmann Ghia I remember walking past so many times en route to 7-Eleven, Dart Drug, or the mall was captured—parked right there where I remember it always sitting.

I eagerly bought the photos; and having noticed several other sets for sale, I messaged the seller, John Floyd II, who manages a wonderfully eclectic eBay store—Blackpool Bertie’s Railway Shop. I wondered if perhaps he had any other vintage photos of Steward Manor in his collection. We chatted back and forth, as I explained the premise of my research. I learned that John was a former fireman, and over the years (both before and after his tenures with volunteer fire companies in Laurel and New Jersey) he had diligently photographed firefighting apparatus, training exercises, and countless fires and accident scenes. Aside from this one photo, he didn’t recall having any others of Steward Manor; because as he explained, the old complex was virtually fireproof. He promised to take a look through his archives, though, and would let me know if he came across anything.

In the meantime, I began to take note of some of the other photos he was selling—photos that in a roundabout way, captured images of the Laurel, MD I used to know. Behind the firetrucks were long-gone storefronts from Laurel Shopping Center… the old Fair Lanes bowling alley sign… and a number of stunning photos from the very first Main Street Festival in 1981. I eagerly bought these, as well; and in effect, they turned out to be the inspiration for starting Lost Laurel. You’ve undoubtedly seen these photos throughout the blog and Facebook page.

Over the past several months, John has not only contributed more invaluable photos and historic information, he has become a good friend.

He’s also a bit of living Laurel history, himself. As a young lad, (as he might say in his subtle British accent) he and his mother came to America in 1957, settling in Laurel in 1964. Not long thereafter, his mom met and wed Mr. Harry Fyffe, co-owner (with his brother Walter) of the legendary Fyffe’s Service Center that stood at Montgomery and 10th Streets for so many years. By his early teens, John was helping out behind the bar, eagerly pulling pints for the regulars!

Still living in Laurel, (he’s lived in the same modest home since childhood—going on 50 years) he’s an active civic booster for the community, and for the nearby Laurel Police Department in particular. He’s also a fine horn player, as well. That was him you may have seen carrying the big antique silver Sousaphone, marching along with the West Laurel Rag Tag Band in this year’s Main Street Festival parade!

John has already shared with me a wealth of knowledge and photos of vintage Laurel—the likes of which I could not possibly have come across on my own. In fact, I’ve merely scratched the surface in terms of curating his vast contributions for Lost Laurel. Wait until you get a load of some of the treasures he’s shared from the 1960s and earlier—who knew Pal Jack’s was once a Bendix and Philco radio shop?!

Main Street in the 1940s… (Photo courtesy John Floyd II, from the collection of Harry Fyffe)

…and the same spot in 2007. (Photo: John Floyd II)

I can say with certainty that without John’s help, there wouldn’t be a Lost Laurel.

Much has happened in just the eight months since I’ve started this project. I’ve been interviewed by the Laurel Leader, and I’ve seen the Lost Laurel Facebook page grow to over 1200 fans. I’ve watched the blog soar to over 24,000 views. That was the good news. The bad news is that I’ve also seen more of the old Laurel fall—literally, in the case of the recent demolition of the blue American National Bank building. Also closing for good were my beloved Laurel Art Center, and even the Laurel Mall—something I never dreamed would’ve occurred in my lifetime, having grown up in its heyday.

Coincidentally, who walked over to the mall to photograph and share with Lost Laurel the very first photos of the “permanently closed for business” signs on the locked doors? John Floyd did.

Photos: John Floyd II

Unfortunately, there’s more bad news looming. This one isn’t about a longtime business closing, or an iconic building being razed. This one affects John personally; and for him, it could certainly be the toughest loss of all. He’s at risk of losing his home.

After missing a property tax deadline, I’ve learned that John’s home was actually SOLD at the county’s annual Tax Auction in May. He now has a very small redemption window in which to pay off the tax penalty, otherwise he’ll lose everything.

John would never ask for any kind of charity himself, so I’m going to pitch in and try to help. In fact, I’ve already gotten an earful from him for simply suggesting this little benefit idea. But I have to believe that at least a few of the folks who follow Lost Laurel will sympathize, and find it in their hearts to contribute whatever they can. And this is just too important to not at least try.

Without going into too much detail, suffice it to say that John has been in a very tight financial spot for quite some time now. He has been without a car for nearly a decade, which not only limits his general mobility, but effectively ended his regular occupation as a musician with various orchestras and dance bands, jazz and ragtime bands, brass bands, and other vintage-style musical ensembles. It was a career he enjoyed for 26 years, working several thousand gigs overall. But without transportation, that work dried up years ago. Likewise, he’s been unable to sell his wares at firemen’s conventions and trade shows—something else that once regularly supplemented his pay.
His eBay sales have become his sole means of income, making him entirely dependent upon the computer for all of his meager earnings.

And unfortunately, his sales have dropped dramatically (by over 60%) in the current recession. An emergency veterinary bill for one of his many cats set him back a hefty sum earlier this year, and that only added to the larger problem—trying to meet the overdue property tax bill to the tune of nearly $3,300. And if it’s not paid by June 30th, the amount will increase to over $7,000 when Prince George’s County adds the 2012 tax bill (along with interest and penalties, legal and court costs, as well as “advertising costs” for the Tax Auction that has put his home at risk). Finally, if the full amount isn’t paid by July 31st, his redemption window slams shut and the new property owners will be free to initiate foreclosure and eviction proceedings. It’s a process that’s every bit as harsh as it sounds.

There’s some irony here, too. As a homeowner, John isn’t eligible for any kind of public assistance—not that he’d willingly accept it. If he were to be evicted, however, he’d likely be free to receive any number of benefits. He doesn’t want those handouts; he simply wants to pay off his debts and remain in the only home he’s known for the past 46 years. I’m hoping we can help him do that.

Unfortunately, P.G. County isn’t flexible in the least. Nor are they interested in John’s or anyone else’s problems. There’s no negotiating with them on the amounts or the due dates. It’s literally all or nothing.

Knowing that most of us are so routinely asked to contribute to various charities—we donate to our kids’ fundraisers; we contribute to relay races for cancer research; we send money to groups who build homes for homeless families in foreign countries—I realize that the bombardment of solicitations can be draining; which is why I very rarely ask for such favors. But I’m going to ask an important favor now—on behalf of a good friend in a time of need who has done so much for Lost Laurel.

If you would, kindly donate whatever you can to John Floyd. His email address is royalbluelimited@aol.com, and it is set up to receive PayPal payments. It could be a little or a lot—every dollar adds up. Most importantly, you will know that your contribution isn’t going to some anonymous organization. It’s going directly toward helping a fellow Laurelite in need—and a genuinely good bloke, as John would say. It’ll literally help him save his home.

To help kickstart this benefit, I’m also going to be offering a few special Lost Laurel incentive prizes to those who donate the most.
• All contributions of $25 and over will receive a full-size, double-sided reproduction of a classic Jack Delaney’s Irish Pizza Pub carryout menu from 1981.
• The first two contributions of $50 or more will receive an original 24″ x 36″ lushly illustrated poster map of Laurel from 1993.
• The first contribution of $100 or more will receive a limited edition Marian Quinn print of the iconic Cook’s Hardware building, matted and framed by the Laurel Art Center.
• And the first contribution of $250 or more will receive a framed 23″ x 30″ vintage 1990s illustration of Main Street businesses—which hung hidden for years in the Laurel Art Center.

These are but a few things that I can offer for what I would consider substantial donations, but I would strongly encourage everyone who reads this to consider sending any amount they can, no matter how small. It truly will help. Imagine if each one of our 1200+ Lost Laurel Facebook friends sent just a dollar or two—John’s crisis could be averted.

There are other ways that you can help, as well. Please visit John’s eBay shop (http://stores.ebay.com/blackpoolbertiesrailwayshop) and buy his stuff! If it’s not your proverbial cup of tea, perhaps you know someone who is a railroad buff, a firefighting enthusiast, and/or a brass band, vintage jazz, and big band music connoisseur—trust me, you’ll find something they’ll appreciate! It goes without saying that John’s eBay record is a spotless one—100% with over 4,350 positive feedbacks. He takes great pride and care in shipping his items quickly and securely, too, as I can attest.

Conversely, perhaps you have some items that you could donate to John’s store that HE may sell. That would also be a major help. Please message me, or feel free to contact John directly (royalbluelimited@aol.com) to make arrangements. Those who donate the amounts listed above can also request that I give their award items to John instead, so that he may sell them.

We’ve all come to accept that Laurel is an ever-changing landscape, and a far cry from the town we once knew. Businesses and residents alike have come and gone—some of their own accord, and others due to various hardships. This, however, is a uniquely tragic situation that I believe we can actually help prevent. Please join me and pitch in what you can. Let’s make sure Laurel doesn’t lose one of its truest citizens.

John Floyd II outside the Laurel Art Center in April, where he also went to photograph the closing of another Laurel icon.

Please donate via PayPal directly to royalbluelimited@aol.com

Many thanks!!

~ ®

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
May 27 2012
5 Comments
Advertisements, Artifacts, Photos, Signs, Stores

Keller’s/Knapp’s Laurel News Agency

Watercolor by Cathy Emery

Every so often, you come across a picture—or in this case, a painting—that just instantly transports you back. And, more often than not, it’s a picture of something simple; something that was once a mundane part of your everyday life… which you naively assumed would be there forever.

Such was the case with Cathy Emery’s painting of Keller’s/Knapp’s Laurel News Agency. If you’d told me 30 years ago—when I was a kid, frequently stopping in Keller’s/Knapp’s for magazines, Chiclets fruit gum, Hostess pies, and the like—that there would one day be a painting of the establishment, (let alone that I would actually want it) I never would’ve believed you. But after the store that had graced (perhaps “graced” isn’t quite the word for it) the corner of Main and B Streets since the late 1940s had finally closed down and given way to the new Revere Bank building, that painting hits home.

It’s exactly as I remember it—the view from across the street, where you could already smell the mingling aroma of produce and newspapers. It may not sound like it, but it was a good smell.

A photo from the same angle appeared in the 1987 Citizens National Bank complimentary calendar (Photo: Susan L. Cave)

As wonderful as it was to see that familiar exterior again after all these years, it didn’t compare to the joy of getting to look inside.

On a recent visit to the Laurel Library, there in the March 14, 1985 issue of the Laurel Leader—appropriately headlining the Our Town section of the paper—was the smiling, laughing face of one Fred Knapp himself. And there he was, standing at his familiar post behind the cluttered counter of Knapp’s.

Fred Knapp. Laurel Leader Staff Photo by Tenney Mason, March 14, 1985

Venerable Leader writer Tony Glaros painted a warm portrait of Mr. Knapp and his memorable old store, and reading it now brings a smile and laugh as big as the one Mr. Knapp is shown enjoying in that photo. The article mentions his penchant for “dazzling his customers”:

“I know what they want before they get here, ” says Fred. “I look out the window and play this game. If I see a guy coming and I know what kind of cigarettes he gets or whatever, I have them ready when he gets here.”

This trait is reiterated later in the article in even more detail:

Fred already knows who smokes what brand, eats what candy and reads what newspaper. He greets them, firing off terms of affection in staccato fashion. “Hey, maestro!” “What else, love?” “Good morning, doctor.” “Thank you, darlin’. Have a good day and be careful out there.”

That’s the part that stuck with me the most. I can vividly recall being referred to as both “Maestro” and “Doctor” by Mr. Knapp. I remember thinking that was particularly cool, given that I was barely ten years old at the time.

The article included some interesting historical data, too. According to this, the newsstand had been operating out of the same location since June 21, 1947*, when Charlie Keller (Fred’s Knapp’s late father-in-law) first opened it. Fred worked for Mr. Keller “on and off” for thirty years, commuting by bus during the day to his job as an Army engineer at Fort Belvoir, VA, and helping Keller out at night. Mr. Keller died in 1978, and Fred took over the business—where it would remain a family affair until the end.

Fred, who was 52 years old at the time of the article, conceded that the hours were the toughest part of the job. “I come in at six o’clock in the morning, five in the summertime so I can catch the fishermen who want worms and beer and sodas and ice and all the junk like that.” It was a routine that he adhered to an astounding 13 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. His only respite, he said, were Sundays—when he’d sleep in until 10:30 before heading back to the store.

I also happened upon a Laurel Leader supplement from 1982, which featured an even wider view of the newsstand’s interior—with Mr. Knapp diligently restocking his ample periodical section:

And in a truly unique view, Tom Jarrell shared this shot from atop Petrucci’s Dinner Theatre in October 1988:

Photo: Tom Jarrell

Earlier this week, I posted the photo of Fred Knapp on the Lost Laurel Facebook page, where it yielded a flood of fond memories. But the best news of all came from Debbie Welch-Foulks, who is Mr. Knapp’s stepdaughter. She tells us that he is living in Elkridge, MD these days, and doing well! She added:

I just got him on the phone and was reading all the posts to him—he was laughing up a storm. He misses everyone….

Laurel misses you, too, Mr. Knapp. Very much so.

Postscript:
*Various ads cited “Since 1948”, but the Laurel Leader article is the only reference I’ve found that mentions an actual starting date of June 21, 1947.

A desolate view in 2007. (Photo: spork232, panoramio.com)
Tagged , , , , ,
May 19 2012
Leave a comment
Artifacts, Photos, Stores

Laurel Art Center: Liquidation Part II

Matt Emery, with his parents, Joyce and Leo—founders of the Laurel Art Center. (Photo: Richard Friend)

Well, there’s good news and bad news. Let’s start with the bad news first.

The bad news is that the Laurel Art Center as we know it is indeed closing for sure. Last month’s two-day liquidation sale drew a record number of sale-seekers, artists, and nostalgia buffs—many of whom, like myself, fit that combined description.

The good news is that if you missed the chance to visit the store that one last time, don’t fret—there’s going to be one more opportunity after all:

For immediate release, 5/24/12
Contact:    Matt Emery, Laurel Art Center Representative

Laurel Art Center to Liquidate

Main Street’s Laurel Art Center will hold its final liquidation sale Memorial Day Weekend from 10:00-5:00 each day.

Last month, the store held a similar sale which drew over 1500 people to its eclectic inventory of framed artwork, picture frames, and art supplies.

There still remains thousands of pieces of artwork.  Framed artwork will be discounted 80%.  Unframed prints and posters will sell for $2.00 each.

There are also over 2,000 ready-made frames for sale in many sizes and styles.  All frames will be $4.00 each or buy any 8 frames for $20.00.

Art supplies are limited and will sell in lots only.  A typical lot will have about $200.00 worth of supplies and will sell for $20.00.  Racks, shelving, and furnishings are also being liquidated.

The store is owned by longtime Laurel residents, Leo & Joyce Emery.  The liquidation is being handled by their son, Matt.  Matt believes this upcoming sale presents even greater values than the last.  He also adds that he welcomes anyone to stop by even if they aren’t shopping and just want to say goodbye to a Laurel landmark.

Having stopped by the store last week, I can assure you—there’s a lot of great stuff left. Clearly, it takes more than one marathon weekend of sales to liquidate 10,000 square feet of legendary art supply awesomeness.

Coincidentally, I just discovered the following article today in a May, 1983 Laurel Leader supplement; it gives a nice overview of the Emery family’s retail legacy on Main Street, and an almost tangible account of this wonderful store. I thought I’d said my goodbyes, but knowing the doors will be open for one last time, how can I resist going back?

Tagged , , , ,
May 15 2012
35 Comments
Artifacts, Photos, Stores

Laurel Shopping Center + George Wallace, 40 years later

Laurel Shopping Center parking lot, May 2012 (Photo: Richard Friend)

I wasn’t born until December 1972, and my family didn’t move to Laurel until 1976. But it wasn’t long afterward that I began to hear about some famous politician having been shot in the parking lot of Laurel Shopping Center on May 15, 1972.

Even as a small child, something about that fascinated me—and it has ever since. Our home town was on the map, so to speak, because of this moment of infamy. Alabama Governor George C. Wallace—a controversial presidential candidate who would actually win the democratic primary in Maryland that year—had just stepped down from the podium, removed his jacket, and begun glad-handing some of the approximately 1,000 who’d assembled to hear and/or jeer his campaign speech. Within seconds, he’d be gunned down by the proverbial lone nut—a 21-year-old would-be assassin from Milwaukee, Wisconsin named Arthur Bremer.

Wallace would survive the shooting, (in spite of a total of five wounds, including shots to the chest and abdomen) but would be confined to a wheelchair and in constant pain for the remaining 26 years of his life. He died in 1998, having spent years renouncing his segregationist past, apologizing, and attempting to rectify a general perception of him as an unvarnished racist—a view he claimed brought him more pain than the assassination attempt itself.

Arthur Bremer would spend the next 35 years in a Hagerstown, MD prison before being released (18 years early) in 2007. Now living in Cumberland, he’ll remain on supervised release until 2025. Bremer’s diary, published after his arrest, revealed that the assassination attempt was motivated by a desire for fame, rather than politics, and that President Nixon had also been an earlier target. Bremer’s actions inspired the screenplay for the 1976 movie Taxi Driver, which in turn provoked the 1981 assassination attempt on the life of President Ronald Reagan by John Hinckley, Jr..

Of course, this isn’t a political blog, so I won’t ramble on about Wallace and Bremer’s respective biographies—there’s plenty of information on them out there if you’re interested. Although as a boxing fan, I will say that I was surprised to learn that George Wallace had been a two-time State Golden Gloves champ. But I digress.

Suffice it to say, I learned at an early age that what had happened at Laurel Shopping Center that afternoon 40 years ago today was a pretty big deal. And it wasn’t just a big deal in Laurel—it had national ramifications. From that point on, it seemed that any and all references to Laurel, Maryland—be it printed in encyclopedias, or in conversation with folks from out of town—inevitably mentioned the Wallace shooting.

He was even on a collector’s card!

In fact, to this day, an online image search of our fair town will inevitably yield photos of George Wallace (although, more recently, Laurel has also been dubiously tied to the 9/11 hijackers—several of whom stayed here in the days leading up to that tragic day).

But on this 40th anniversary, let’s look at the Wallace shooting in the context of Lost Laurel, rather than simply recapping the event and its principal players.

One of the first questions I had as a kid was, simply, where exactly did the shooting occur? Most of the photos I’ve seen (as well as footage of the shooting itself) are so tightly cropped and non-specific, it’s difficult to discern where in the Laurel Shopping Center this actually happened.

My parents, in fact, had long believed that it took place in the Montrose Ave. crosswalk beside Giant Food—probably because the stage Wallace spoke upon resembles the nativity scene that was in that location throughout the 80s. Plus, it seems like a logical place to hold the assembly. However, that was not the case.

Gov. George Wallace addresses the crowd just five minutes before the shooting. (Photo: Mabel Hobart)

The stage was actually set closer to the center of the parking lot, just behind what was at that time the Equitable Trust Bank, (currently Bank of America). It was in this area of the parking lot—between the south side of the bank and Woolworth’s—that Governor Wallace was shot.

The photos below, courtesy of John Floyd II, show the back (south side) of the bank—where the shooting took place. John, 14 years old at the time, was there that day with his mother, and estimates the actual spot of the shooting to be approximately where the white car is parked in this photo.

State Bank in 1962, and a recent photo of the building in its current guise as Bank of America. (Photos: John Floyd II)

You’ve probably noticed the name “State Bank” on the photo above. That’s what it was before it became Equitable Trust. (Hmm… banks constantly changing names—some things weren’t so different 40 years ago after all, were they?) Below is a Laurel News Leader cover photo from October 1962, which announced a $60,000 construction and improvement program to the State Bank’s Laurel Shopping Center branch, including an enlargement of the lobby and two new executive offices, a fall-out shelter in the basement, complete new heating and air-conditioning plants, as well as decorating and landscaping.

A 35mm color slide from an undated winter during the bank’s Equitable Trust era gives us a peek at the front of the building; although it’s somewhat difficult to focus on anything other than the massive, lumpy, telephone-wielding snowman perched atop the bank. During this phase, the bank had been painted white. We can also see the addition of a clock in the lower portion of the large, vertical sign—the lettering of which was also obviously changed. (I’m assuming it simply said “BANK”).

The file photo below shows the aftermath of the shooting—just after Wallace had been whisked away by ambulance. (John Floyd noted that prior to the assassination attempt, the entire parking lot between the bank and Woolworth’s was packed with spectators). In the photo, we also have a distant glimpse of some of the other businesses that were there at the time—most notably, Hecht’s in the top left corner behind the bank; the original International House of Pancakes, with its gabled roof; the Laurel Car Wash (originally owned by former Laurel Mayor Harry Hardingham, and still in business today!); a BP gas station; and a Fotomat booth.

(Photo: file, Laurel Leader)

To that point, let’s look at what else comprised Laurel Shopping Center at that time. The following directory came out a few years later, but many of the businesses listed had been open at the time of the shooting.

Greater Laurel Area Community Guide, 1976

Another view of the shopping center from this era comes from an apparent protest of, well, pants. This demonstration, apparently calling for the boycott of Farah Pants at Hecht’s, occurred in December 1973.

Photo: Reading/Simpson

It’s also worth noting that one of the more dramatic photos that came across the AP Wire—showing a motionless Wallace lying in the back of a station wagon while awaiting an ambulance—was taken by a Laurel photographer, J.A. Bowman.

Recently, I found a photo that appeared in the October 16, 1977 issue of the Washington Post, recalling the shooting five years later. The article featured Mabel and Ross Speigle, between whom the would-be assassin literally reached while firing. Ross was the gentleman in the ball cap, whose tattooed arm you can see grabbing Bremer’s arm. The couple recalled their incredible experience, and were photographed in the spot where it all happened.

Back in January, I’d noticed a discussion thread on another Laurel-themed Facebook page. Susan Poe commented on a video link of the shooting: “The man wrestling the shooter to the ground was my neighbor, when I lived on 4th Street—Ross Speigle, and his wife Mabel was beside him… for anyone who remembers. I remember that day very well.” I posted the photo for Sue, who’d never seen it. She quickly replied, “OMG! Tears in my eyes… I haven’t seen their faces in over 20 years. Thank you so much. Wow. You have no idea. They were like family to me.”

She went on to tell me that Mabel (or “Mabe”, as she was known) had passed away from cancer, and Ross followed her a few years later. It was clear that this had been a very special couple, even without their unexpected involvement in the Wallace incident. Ross had acted out of instinct in grabbing Bremer’s arm—an action that could very well have been the reason why no one was killed that day. But the Speigles’ courage didn’t end there; Mabel proved to be a dynamic witness who helped seal Arthur Bremer’s fate:

Given this significant anniversary, I thought it only fitting that Mabel and Ross accompany me (in a manner of speaking) back to the site one more time.

***

Postscript:
There’s at least one other camera angle showing the Wallace shooting—this one with a brief glimpse of the Equitable Trust Bank itself, giving the surroundings more context. In this particular upload (set to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Sweet Home Alabama) the footage doesn’t begin in earnest until the 1:34 mark. However, it’s in color; and it has sound. You can easily get a sense of the chaos in the immediate aftermath on that incredible day.

And lastly, there was a film made about the life of George Wallace. It’s titled, (you guessed it) George Wallace. Gary Sinise starred in the title role, alongside Angelina Jolie as his then-wife, Cornelia. The filmmakers did a decent job recreating the “Laurel Shopping Center” stage from which Wallace spoke before the shooting, but anyone who’s familiar with Laurel will immediately notice the surroundings and realize that the scene wasn’t shot (no pun intended) at Laurel Shopping Center. Interestingly enough, Gary Sinise won an Emmy for the performance—on the very night that the real George Wallace passed away.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Apr 29 2012
4 Comments
Architecture, Artifacts, Photos, Stores

Laurel Art Center: The Final Weekend

This weekend, the Laurel Art Center reopened its doors (shuttered since February, when the Emery family announced their intent to close the iconic 35-year-old business) for a massive liquidation sale.

I visited with the intent of picking up copies of the few remaining Marian Quinn pen & ink reproductions of vintage Laurel landmarks that I hadn’t already purchased this past year—including one of the Laurel Art Center itself. (I’d superstitiously delayed buying it for fear that it too would become part of Lost Laurel.)

I anticipated quite a turnout after the sale was publicized in the Laurel Leader, and was right. By 10:30 Saturday morning, the line of paying customers was already to the back of the store. Needless to say, it was probably the longest line they’ve seen since the store’s inception. If only they could’ve had such lines all the time, but I digress.

And the wait to pay at the register was upwards of 45 minutes, but worth every second—not just for the incredible 75% discount, but for the time it provided to reflect on just how many visits I’d made to this wonderful store over the years. Even the carpet—that old, patchwork of mixed fabrics—caught my eye and brought back memories.

While standing in line, it was fitting that I noticed a few remaining watercolor sets—much like the little sets my parents first bought for me back in the late 1970s and early 80s, which undoubtedly fueled my early artistic ambitions. Of course, it would eventually be this very store that provided everything I’d need for drawing and painting, including the tons of supplies I required during my time at the Corcoran College of Art + Design.

The Laurel Art Center has honestly been a key part of my life for as long as I can remember. From my early childhood love of drawing and painting, to my college and professional career as a graphic designer, and even today as a casual historian of all things Laurel. So while I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to stop by on Saturday to make sure I bought every last thing I could (and I did score some fantastic pieces, including some Marian Quinn originals for less than I’d paid for some prints), I knew I wouldn’t be able to properly photograph the store one last time with just my iPhone—not to mention with the crowds of other enthusiastic shoppers milling about. A return trip was in order today with a real camera, for one final walk through in an effort to document the countless details of the old store; to try to convey the experience of browsing through this 10,000 square foot eclectic treasure trove.

Both the inventory and the crowds were sparser, but the unmistakeable ambiance was still there.

(You can also view the complete photo set here on Flickr.)

While photographing each aisle, a vaguely familiar looking gentleman approached—also with a camera. “Looks like we had the same idea today,” he said. And within seconds, I realized that this must be John Floyd, II—the long-time Laurel resident who’s provided not just me, but the Laurel Leader and many others over the years with so many great photos and insight to the town’s history! “John?” I asked. “Rich?” He replied. We’ve been corresponding via email for the past year, but hadn’t had the chance to meet in person until today. Leave it to the Laurel Art Center to create one more memorable moment for me—on its final day, no less.

Such a treat finally meeting John Floyd II, who just happened to be here at the same time!

Main Street certainly won’t be the same without the store, nor will its legions of fans ever forget what it has meant to them over all these years. As one of the youngest members of the Emery family helped bag up my final purchases, (including a Marian Quinn original pen & ink of Petrucci’s and Pal Jack’s Pizza that I got for $18.75—I can’t believe no one else spotted that on the wall before I did) I took one last look at the thank you note on the counter.

No, thank you, Laurel Art Center. For everything.

***

Postscript: One additional print I made sure to buy today was that of The Gallery—the other Emery family-owned art and framing business just one block up on Main Street. Yesterday, I stopped by and spoke with Cathy Emery, who has been pulling double duty handling the fallout from the Art Center’s closing. Since February, The Gallery has been fulfilling orders that were placed through the Art Center. I remarked, half-jokingly, that I hope they aren’t planning on leaving anytime soon. You can imagine my surprise to learn that they were actually planning to do just that—even before the Art Center pulled the plug. Yikes.

While I’d love to hope that The Gallery will persevere and continue the Emery family’s wonderful artistic legacy in Laurel, it sounds as though their time may also be short. Be sure to visit their shop at 344 Main Street for all of your framing needs, and for both originals and reprints of Cathy’s amazing work documenting Laurel’s places past.

Tagged , , , ,
Apr 22 2012
10 Comments
Artifacts, Photos, Restaurants

Bay ‘n Surf

Photo: Stu_Jo (Flickr)

Photo: Stu_Jo (Flickr)

On a chilly, rainy day like today, who couldn’t use a nice bowl of Maryland’s finest cream of crab soup?

By most accounts, Bay ‘n Surf aptly advertised their signature soup, lovingly crafted in the distinctive 300-seat restaurant with decorative lighthouse at 14411 Baltimore Avenue—the location it called home since 1965. But the restaurant that had seen so many romantic Valentines Day dinners over the years did not have a happy Valentines Day in 2007, when a compressor for one of the restaurant’s walk-in refrigerators ignited at approximately 6:15 AM, setting ablaze a nearby office and parts of the kitchen. According to firefighters, the dining area was essentially untouched; and while preliminary estimates put the damage at $500,000, the owner told The Washington Post that she planned to reopen by May of that year.

Photo: WTOP

Now more than five years after the fire, the restaurant—and its distinctive lighthouse—sit eerily empty.

Despite the occasional rumor of Bay ‘n Surf returning—or, more likely, reopening in a new location outside of Laurel, nothing of the sort has materialized. The property has evidently been sold, however, but there’s been no official word on what’s to become of it. Odds are, however, whatever the new place is, the cream of crab soup just won’t be the same.

You can still experience some of those Bay ‘n Surf memories—and a decent bowl of cream of crab soup—right next door, though. Nuzback’s Bar, another Laurel landmark which has sat directly beside the old seafood restaurant all these years, (including the years before Bay ‘n Surf, when it was the notorious Oakcrest Inn!) is still going strong, and they have an outdoor seating area where you can enjoy your food and drinks while gazing over at what’s left of the Bay ‘n Surf.

When I was growing up in the 1970s and 80s, Nuzback’s had a bit of a reputation as a rough place (to put it mildly). But I doubt they’ve ever had quite the drama that the old Oakcrest Inn had—especially on August 29, 1955, when a deadly gun battle apparently broke out… between a pair of middle-aged brothers, no less. One of whom owned the place:

Washington Post, August 30, 1955

The surviving brother was later acquitted, citing self defense. You have to wonder if he ever went back, perhaps after it became the Bay ‘n Surf. After all, they did have Maryland’s finest cream of crab soup.

Tagged , , , , , , ,
Apr 09 2012
2 Comments
Artifacts, Photos, Signs, Stores

Cook’s Laurel Hardware Co.

Long before Laurel’s labyrinthine Home Depot—and even Hechinger—there was a small hardware store on Main Street that seemed to carry everything. Just as importantly, they knew were everything was.

Perhaps, like me, you weren’t particularly handy with power tools (growing up in an apartment complex like Steward Manor with a highly-capable maintenance team can have that effect, you know.) But even if you’d never ventured inside Cook’s Laurel Hardware Company, chances are you remember seeing their iconic neon sign—a throwback to their 1938 origins—every time you passed by.

If you did go inside, chances are you remember the creaky wooden floors, patched together with metal flashing—also a testament to Cook’s 59 years of service to Laurel. Former customers of all ages fondly recall visits with parents, grandparents… and even dogs, which were welcomed inside.

For most of its long tenure on Main Street, the store was identifiable by that distinctive neon sign at least as much as its red brick exterior. Until 1983, however, when the store’s facade underwent a dramatic makeover—ivory and dark green paint brought new life to the Main Street classic.

Cook's original red brick facade can be seen in this 1975 photo of Laurel Rescue 19 and Engine 101 responding to a gas leak at 5th & Main Steets. (Photo: John Floyd II)

Laurel Leader, 1983

Cook's—with it's new paint—as it appeared in a 1987 Citizens National Bank courtesy calendar (Photo: Susan L. Cave)

But by the mid-1990s, Laurel was in full transition mode—adapting to the arrival of discount retailers such as Walmart, Sam’s Club, Target, Kohl’s, and The Sports Authority, among others. Main Street’s small shopkeepers struggled to secure their niche market amid the flurry of large-scale retailers. And ironically, it wasn’t the big box stores that ultimately doomed Cook’s—not completely, anyway. Technically, it was old people. Upon closing in the summer of 1997, the building was razed to make room for a 124-unit apartment building for senior citizens—Selbourn House.

In a Washington Post article that noted the impending closure, owner Bob Cook—a longtime member and president of the Laurel Board of Trade—regretted shuttering the old hardware store that bore his name, but he remained surprisingly optimistic for the town:

While he laments the store’s closing, Cook views it as part of the transformation begun three years ago by Laurel’s government and business leaders to boost employment, spur economic development and make the most of Laurel’s location, halfway between Baltimore and the District. Cook believes the proposed senior housing complex will help draw people to city streets, where eventually they will shop with tourists who are drawn to stores selling antiques and crafts.

Washington Post, 1997

Cook’s Laurel Hardware Company has been gone now for some 15 years, but in many ways, it lives on—and not just in memories.

Norman James, Jr. is an accomplished sign maker whose passion is in documenting, rescuing, and restoring classic neon signs of the Baltimore/Washington area. He then showcases the old beauties he’s rescued (as well as some that he couldn’t) on his website, often with fantastic historical notes that may have otherwise been lost to the ages.

Norm lost his bid to procure the Cook’s sign in 1997; and for the next 11 years, it sat in the coffee shop just across the street from the old hardware store itself. But, fast-forward to 2008—and the coffee shop itself was closing. Better late than never, Norm was more than willing to once again give the 400-pound, 6′ x 6′ sign a good home.

Courtesy of Norman James, Jr. (http://www.normanssigngarden.mysite.com)

During his restoration, Norm uncovered (literally) an old secret behind the Cook’s sign:

“HIDDEN MESSAGE! I discovered the lower portions, or ‘Cook’s’ panels were lay-overs, concealing the original message. Lucas Paints were manufactured in Pennsylvania for about 75 years when bought out by Sherwin-Williams, in the early 1950’s. The owner of Laurel Hardware had his name added to the sign to cover over the Lucas paints portion, which only was exposed for about the first ten years of the life of the sign. I also discovered the faded nameplate of the original manufacturer of the sign…Triangle in Baltimore. The ‘John Tingen’ lettering was probably from the time the ‘Cooks’ layovers were created.”

You’ll often hear folks talk about the experience of walking through a mom & pop hardware store, and its ambiance: the smell of cut plywood and 2 x 4s; the close proximity of shelves full of nails, drywall screws, and countless other fasteners; the sound of a paint mixer. Nowhere was that experience more appreciable than Cook’s. Sure, Home Depot probably has everything and then some; but sometimes, what a customer really wants is the chance to browse at his or her own pace in a welcoming environment. Preferably one with an old, creaky wooden floor.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,
Apr 03 2012
Leave a comment
Architecture, Photos

Update: American National Bank Demolition

Driving through Laurel this morning, I wasn’t sure if the old blue American National Bank building would still be standing or not. It was, but the view was quite different… I could see through half of it. Although, admittedly, one almost doesn’t even notice the building with those gas prices, but I digress.

I took a few shots from both sides of Rt. 198, and some from the parking lot of Gorman Plaza:

But apparently, my timing was off by just a smidge. My friend John Floyd II visited the site shortly afterward, and while taking photos, he realized that the backhoe excavator driver wasn’t beating around the proverbial bush. John quickly switched to video as he saw the claw begin pulling on the crossbeams. He captured this brief clip, which shows the first significant collapse of the old building:

John spoke with the foreman, who stated that he expects the entire building to be down by this Thursday—if not sooner. John also adds:

“The building housing Mango’s Grill and Cash Express closed yesterday and the next one to be pulled down is Irene’s. A crew from Canova Construction are disconnecting the water and sewer lines and will have to re-configure all the storm drains for the new complex. Two containment ponds will be added right about where Irene’s Restaurant is standing now.”

Many thanks to John for sharing his video, and the following photos:

Video + 5 photos courtesy of John Floyd II
Tagged , , , ,
← Older posts
Newer posts →