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UNCLE BARNEY-
Continu^d from page 34
instantly a shuddering jolt
tremored up and down my
spine, as though his body was
a conductor of electricity.
Meanwhile, my mother was
surveying him from one side,
as though trying to predict
how he would do in the store.
Perhaps she was apprehensive
that he would be too flamboy
antly the character to please
the clerks or customers.
From behind the counter,
Mary, Babs and Jim were also
scrutinizing his presence. Es
pecially Jim was, and his face
reflected a trace of apprehen
sion, as though he had taken
the measure of my uncle and
sensed that here was someone
to be recokoned with.
‘Just you wait you skunk!’
I thought.
After Uncle Barney stepped
back from me, he turned to
ward the counter, the clerks,
the customers. “So this is the
headache,” he said to mother.
“Well lets see what we can do
about it.”
He did plenty. Nobody
could have worked harder at
the job. At eight in the morn
ing he opened the store and at
6:30 he closed it. So now my
mother had a chance to sleep
longer and, when business
was slow, to rest for an hour
or two in the afternoons. He
was very protective toward
her. If, for example, she was
eating a sandwich in the back
of the store, he wouldn’t let
salesmen disturb her until she
had finished. “Your health is
the most important thing,” he
would say to her. What es
pecially impressed me is that
from the first he did not spare
himself the most menial kinds
of physical labor. From carry
ing a heavy box of groceries
he did not excuse himself. To
unpack a half dozen cartons of
condensed milk while kneel
ing on the floor, to stack the
cans in the shelves, he did
willingly. To haul 50 sugar
bags from one place in the
stock room to another for him
was part of S day’s work. My
mother, concerned for his wel
fare, tried, unsuccessfully, to
persuade him to leave such
heavy work for Jim. I guess it
was his way of letting the
clerks see that he intended to
share the work.
But it wasn’t simply be
cause of his industry that he
changed the weather of our
lives at the store. The warmth,
the laughter, the astonishing
energyj °f the man was con
tagious. He looked at you, at
everyone, even Jin> -with—
The Southern Israelite
however saccharine this may
sound—eyes of love. The girls,
Mary and Babs, he would bear
hug the moment they entered
the store in the morning, as
though he hadn’t seen them
for a long time. I remember
how his very expressive hands
would caress their napes after
he drew each of the girls in
turn to his stocky figure.
“Why not?” my mother said
to me, approvingly. “Do you
think he’s a virgin? A normal
healthy man, after all.” I had
half-expected the girls to re
sent—and worse, make their
resentment known to him—
his embracing them. At first
they were amused. Then grad
ually they appeared to enjoy
being drawn to his chest and
held there for a moment. Not
only enjoy but apparently to
depend upon this daily ritual
for some sort of emotional
sustenance. For I recall how
sometimes they would come
away from his embrace with
shining eyes.
What was the secret of Un
cle’s power that even in the
drab environment of the store
he could bring the Mona Lisa
smile to the faces of those bo-
hunk, undeodorized Slavic
girls from the Back of the
Yards neighborhood? Perhaps
he was radiating an I Love
You and You Love Me and We
Are all Brothers and Sisters
message to which they were
responding in kind. The lov
ing Alyosha Karamazov dispo
sition in him was apparently
genuine, and so they believed
in him, allowed themselves to
become child-like and trust
ing in his presence.
He was no less popular with
the customers, who adored
him. They obviously saw him
as a character, unpredictable,
lovable. Perhaps in their eyes
he was the Eddie Cantor
(then one of radio’s big cele
brities) of Milwaukee Ave
nue, the street on which the
store was located. One mo
ment they might hear him lift
his voice in song, a popular
ditty of the day which, trans
formed by his inflections and
accents, became a Yiddish
melody. Like: “You are mein-
er sunshine. . .” And on at
least two occasions, when I
was with him in the stock
room, he broke into a wildly
abandoned dance step, leap
ing up and stamping down
with such force that the very
floorboards trembled. With
like zest he would flirt with
women of all ages and mock
tease some of the male custo
mers. And the adolescent and
grammar school trade soon
Continued on page 44
Quality Motors, Inc.
Telephone 622-1433
FLORENCE, S. C.
Thrill of the Year is Buick”
Your Auto Problems are our Business
247 N. Irby St.
□
THE JONES SIGN
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NEON
SIGNS
Outdoor Advertising
HENRY C. TURNER, Jr., Owner
249 North Liberty Street
DIAL 3-7796
Spartanburg, S. C.
Boyle - Vaughan Agency
Insurance
• Surety Bonds
1328 Sumter Street
P. O. Box 837
Telephone 252-3198
COLUMBIA, S. C.
THOS. a. BOYLE
THOMAS B. BOYLE JR.
Preddent
Secretary
JAMES A. VAUGHAN
E. C. McOREOOR BOYLE
Vice-President
Treesvrer
Greenwald’s Inc.
APPAREL
FOR MEN AND WOMEN
SPARTANBURG S.C.
HORNE AUTO CO,
622-5241 173 E. Cheves St.
Ford Cars - Trucks - Complete Service
FLORENCE, S. C.
YELLOW CAB
of Florence, Inc.
“Radio Dispatched”
190 East Evans Street
J. A. PRICE, Owner Phone 622—5266
37