The ‘Wright Place"

 

The ‘Wright Place"

In a very real sense, the five and ten-cent store on Main Street was the center of Northport in the 1950s and 1960s. Most people referred to it as the “Five and Dime” and images of that old place remain etched in my memory. As a small child, I was fascinated by the toy section and it only became magnified at Christmas time with the display of electric trains, fake snow and Christmas decorations. The passenger cars had replicated stainless-steel exterior rail car cladding and the windows lit up with the silhouettes of the “commuters”. They were the most expensive train offering in the store. My train layout, which I co-owned with my older brother Steve, didn't include that discriminating choice. We ran a basic “freight line” with Diesel Switchers. “Instant gratification” was not yet a buzz phrase, and any tendencies toward that end were discouraged, a philosophy which I believe was for the best.

A child's vacation destination for all seasons, I could have camped at the “Five & Dime” indefinitely if the manager, Mr. Wright, would have allowed it. There were cap guns with holsters, ray guns, toy soldiers, delivery trucks, police badges, all the action toys that are the stuff of young boys’ dreams. There was an equal amount of toys for the girls, such as dolls, ballerina outfits and other foo-foo stuff, but those items were just blocking my access to pursue the likes of Captain Video, Audie Murphy and Hop-a-long Cassidy.

Aside from the obvious appeal to the youngsters, it was a store for everyone. Mom could buy inexpensive dishes, candlesticks and yard goods while dad could peruse the hardware aisle for 19 cent paint brushes and various household items. As we prepared for school each fall, the stationery aisle was where you would find your classmates stocking up on pens, pencils and notebooks. This elbow-to-elbow event signaled the end of summer. I used to dream of carrying those books for a school crush, something that never materialized.

The “Five & Dime” was more than sticks and bricks. It was an institution. Those creaky wood floors and the stairs leading the second level where the AT & T operators ran those large switchboards hearkened back to an era of communication now sadly past, but, for me, the legacy of the store's “Mr. Wright” remains the real subject of “Northport Five & Dime” history.

Mr. Wright managed the operation of the “Five and Dime” with the creativeness and precision of a symphony orchestra conductor. With a pencil that almost appeared surgically implanted behind his ear, he knew every inch of that place and his employees performed with similar perfection. Not only was he serious about his work, but his love of community was exemplified by his dedication as a volunteer fireman who reliably responded to the call day or night. He often helped coordinate gatherings at the firehouse, an important community hub, and raised much needed funds ‘hawking’ at the annual Fireman's Fair. The same care and dedication that he demonstrated at work, he devoted to his community. It is something that I took for granted then, and appreciate only now in hindsight.

In the very early years, I can remember my mother and her peers using the phrase “waiting for “Mr. Right” when referring to young eligible bachelorettes looking for a steady boyfriend. Without giving the conversation much attention, I simply thought “Mr. Wright” was down there at the “Five and Dime”.

As I morphed into young adulthood and became part of the Main Street business machine of the day, I came to know Mr. Wright as “Fred Wright”. “Fred” was a positive role model and unassuming pillar of Northport, with much of what he contributed to our little village probably going unnoticed at the time. He was part of a group of men and women who instinctively considered community more important than accolades. The “Five & Dime” was more than just an address on Main Street. It was a blueprint for life that, sadly, is now gone forever, a memory that survives only for those who have had the good fortune to have lived it.

Given the challenges of parenting, the question is often posed: how many people does it take to raise a child? The generally accepted answer would be two, a mother and a father. In a broader perspective, Mr. Wright's character role and others like him in Northport, demonstrate that the whole community looked out for us all and therefore we had considerable parenting. I am blessed to have experienced that era and the folks that made it so special.