In the middle decades of the 20th century, downtown Mystic was a very busy place during the Christmas shopping season.

Shoppers could buy anything from jewelry at Hinkle’s to ice skates at Mystic Sporting Goods (where they could also get them sharpened). There were dress shops, a children’s store and a couple of gift shops. The village boasted a drug store, a record shop, a 5 and 10 and an art supply store. There were also two eateries; the Modern Grill and Mae’s Snack Bar, where I took my meals while working downtown.

Although Christmas is a time for family, festivities and faith, and I enjoy all of those, as a student in high school and college the season was a chance to earn some money. From the age of 17, I spent a good deal of time on West Main Street, specifically at Kerr’s Men’s Shop.

Kerr’s, of course

Kerr’s, owned by Tom Kerr, was one of three men’s shops on West Main Street. The store, which was in the block that burned several years ago, was generally a one-man operation, but during the Christmas season, George Bliven, Tom’s brother-in-law, came in, and I worked after school until 9 p.m. every day except Sunday.

The only business on the street open on Sunday was Kretzer’s, on the corner of Pearl Street. For many years my father stopped there every week on his way home from church to pick up the Sunday papers; the Herald Tribune and the Daily News. The New London Evening Day did not publish a Sunday edition.

Even in the 1960s and ‘70s, parking was a problem. I used to park in the firehouse lot behind the store.

One day my boss, who was looking out the back window, called to me and asked if the green Corvair in the lot was mine. I said it was and he suggested I move it. The tide was unusually high that day, and there was a chance I might wind up with water in my car.

Snow was another nuisance. A few inches meant shoveling the sidewalk in front of both Kerr’s and Claire’s.

Light snow was handled with a broom. In either event, people tracked snow and sand into the store and made a mess of the varnished floor. It also meant an extra trip to Cottrell’s lumberyard for green sweeping compound.

Despite the irritation, snow actually increased business. I suppose it helped people get into the holiday spirit and made them realize that Christmas was closer than they thought.

The next clear day after a snowfall would find me outside with a bucket of warm water, a long handled brush, and a squeegee. One of the salesgirls would help so that we could get the windows of both stores clean before the water froze on the glass.

For the most part Kerr’s sold business attire: suits, sports jackets, trousers, and various furnishings such as shirts, ties, socks, sweaters, handkerchiefs and gloves. We also stocked Stetson hats, Florsheim shoes and London Fog raincoats. In the spring we included summer clothes.

And Bendett’s, naturally

Across the street, Bendett’s sold sportier clothes, including the famous Rooster square-bottomed ties. I owned a couple of those, but I didn’t wear them to work at Kerr’s!

Nowak’s stock ran more to working clothes, possibly because Nat had started as a salesman for Levi Strauss. He was also the local Boy Scout distributor. It was at his store that I bought my first Cub Scout uniform in 1955.

I was surprised one day when Claire, Tom’s wife, asked me to go down the street to Nowak’s and pick up a package for her. She had bought a pair of slippers as a Christmas gift for Tom and she wanted to get them wrapped and put away.

Younger readers may be surprised at the prices of our merchandise. An oxford cloth, button down Arrow shirt sold for $5, and ties were $2 ($3 for cotton, and $5 for silk). Four cotton handkerchiefs cost $1.

Of course, the minimum wage then was $1.25 an hour. When I got a summer job at EB paying $2.11 to start, I thought I was rich!

Women rule

One thing I noticed when working in the store during the Christmas season was that most of the sales were to women. Of course men would have to come in to be fitted for a suit or a pair of trousers, or to try on shoes, but women bought most of the furnishings.

Tom was smart in that he kept a box of 3-by-5 cards on which he noted his customers’ sizes. Thus, when a lady who was a regular customer bought her husband a shirt, it would probably fit. This made for a better shopping experience and cut down on returns.

Each sale meant writing up a sales slip, with a carbon duplicate, listing the items and whether the purchase was by cash, check or charge. There were no bar codes!

A charge slip would obviously include the customer’s name and a bill would be sent at the end of the month. We did accept credit cards, which meant another piece of paper to be run through the manual credit card printer.

I remember Tom telling me once that if the store ever caught on fire, not to worry about the merchandise or the safe, but to grab the box of charge slips – they were his only record of who owed him money!

Mystic is still crowded during the Christmas shopping season, but I doubt if any customer takes home a shirt and tie, boxed and “professionally” gift wrapped by a 17-year-old salesman!

Robert Welt of Mystic is a longtime retired history teacher in the Groton Public Schools.