In Sarah Kaminskys micro-second of thought and forethought she 'knew' herself to be— what in future years would be known as a 'CEO'— the person in their new business responsible for making 'all' managerial decisions.
A New Road To Woodstock '69
Snippet Five
Woodstock: The iconic American rock festival of the twentieth century
Authors Notation: Other than those that were actually a participating member or members of the Woodstock Festival, all others are fictitious characters and situations created for dramatic effect, and especially at this author’s whim.
Further Notation: I have no intention of repeating my nineteen part Woodstock series as first submitted on Tuesday, July 26, 2022, but digging further into the earlier lives of Sharon and Clyde and her Polish immigrant parents: 'Murray and Sarah Kandinsky and his Irish immigrant parents, Malcolm and Ellen Murphy.
A glorious mid May day, Sarah, Malcolm and Murray had decided to walk the three blocks from their new home on Placid Street to 'Pinks' on this second day of their new lives.
Other than Malcolm — who was looking forward to begin work on the 1927 Chevrolet long bed truck — Murray and Sarah, to say the least, were apprehensive over the lack of knowledge both felt they possessed regarding the ongoing operation of 'Pink's Hardware and Feed' .
The night before, all four sensing the loss of Agnes, whom, though — other than Sarah — they had spent but one night and yesterday with, they had begun to think of Agnes as their guiding light, at least regarding the successful operation of their new business.
The discussion over the thought of renaming 'Pink's' was short as all agreed that 'Pink's' was the name the entire town thought of when they thought of their hardware and feed need.... Besides, Sarah had said, "All the paperwork, and business cards have the 'Pink's' name on them and we'd have to buy all new."
"And pay for it!" Murray had added. "And don't forget about the new sign we'd need. " Ellen added.
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So the name — along with all paperwork, and outside sign would remain as it had for the past twenty-five years.
As for Ellen... Temporary assigned baby sitting duties...
5/18/39
8:12 AM
Remaining home — Although this house still too grand to be fully accepted as 'home'... yet — Outside, watching as Clyde, discovering the old swing set was once again, for the seventh or eighth time, Clyde was climbing the slide steps, as Sharon; seeming to be happy to be outside, sitting on thick grass, seemed to be enamoured with the abundance of golden dandelions covering the grass about her, that giggling, she was pulling out by the hands-full.
Anxious for 'nap time' when she could, once again descend the stairs into the basement to see what other treasures she might discover.
8:15 AM
Onto Main Street. And even from this one block distance, Lester's hand painted — 'Under New Management' — sign easily visible.
A mud caked Ford Pick up truck passes by, then slowing to a stop, the window cranked open: "You the new 'Pink's people'?"
Used to big city thinking as opposed to small city thinking... Better than six thousand people in this town, why'd he think..."Yes! Yes we are!" Murray answered.
"Good!" The man said. "Been waiting for you! Be by later."
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"To do what? " Murray called. But the mud caked truck was gone.
Always aware. "Murray..." catching a tensing of her husband's body "...don't worry. It will all work out." Sarah reassuringly said.
Looking to his left... "And Lester will be there to help." ... he said.
"Of course he will!" Malcolm added. "And maybe he'll even know where I can get spark plugs and motor oil."
"We've a telephone number book under the counter." Sarah remembered. "So. maybe there will be someplace we can call."
"And we've even our own telephone!" The thought lighting Murray's mood.
8:17 AM
A Yard or two from the open doorway came a whirling sound accompanied by the a 'ding', 'ding', 'ding' of the National Cash Register tallying the individual cost of item after item being purchased by an elderly man dressed in dirty jeans and a chambray jacket.
Looking up from the series of buttons, "Here they are!" Lester announced to the two others waiting in line for their purchases to be tallied and paid.
Astonished that people were actually standing in line in order to pay for whatever they were purchasing; along with another six or seven people roaming about the store looking for...?
On the far side of the counter a huge tray holding at least two dozen sugar
glazed doughnuts.
Nodding his head to the right, towards the doughnuts, then to the left.
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towards the next door bakery. "From Viktor..." Lester said "... a 'welcome' and 'good luck' gift."
"What a nice thing to do..." Sarah said as she took Lester's place behind the counter "..I'll have to thank Viktor later; Why don't you see how Murray's doing with that customer."
Looking... "Nah, that's Jerry Mott and he almost knows more about this place than me." Motioning to the cash register, "You'll be able to handle that thing?"
"Agnes spent some time telling me, so we'll see."
"Hello!" Speaking to the first customer in line, holding her hand forward. "That's a..."
Testily... "Pliers." ... the mid-aged woman said.
"Yes, I know." Sarah said kindly as she searched the price of a medium sized pair of pliers on the huge list of products and items sold at Pink's... Finally, "That will be sixty-five cents." Sarah said to the woman that had, 'obviously' become inpatient.
Handing a dollar bill to Sarah, the lady, 'obviously' becoming more inpatient as Sarah fumbled with the National Company cash register...
Finally... 'ding'...'ding': the drawer opening; handing the lady a dime and a quarter, "Thank you..." Sarah said "...for shopping at Pink's!"
Dropping the change into her change purse and the pliers into her purse, grabbing a doughnut on the way out, the woman left Pink's without a word.
4:47 PM
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Other than one impatient customer; actually the near constant stream of customers extremely pleasant and most helpful to the 'obviously' new proprietors of a hardware store.
And this about the way their first day at 'Pink's Hardware and Feed ' went; with Sarah becoming more Cash Register proficient with Murray and Malcolm, indeed, 'learning as they went along'.
As for Ellen...
This morning...
11:05 AM
Nap time usually about noon, however on this day fudging an hour, getting Clyde and Sharon into the same bed, as they'd usually done for their afternoon nap, Ellen did find her way back down the basement stairs.
Searching for something in particular...
Sure enough! In a far corner, as almost everything else, it was covered with an old tablecloth. Okay, yes, it was at least twenty-five years old and looked positively ancient, but — walking upstairs backwards, pulling it — the perambulators large, thin wheels still turned bumping their way up the staircase. Once outside, thinking she'd use two pillows instead, removing the old mattress, Ellen hosed, at least, twenty-five years of cobwebs and whatever dust that had found it's way beneath the covering tablecloth.
12:50 PM Awake now. Giving Clyde and Sharon a quick bath, in the same tub as they'd usually done. Then a lunch of scrambled eggs and toast for Sharon and Clyde.
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Then, at...
2:05 PM
Walking the three blocks from their home — beginning to consider the house— on Placid Street as home. Enjoying the warmth of the day and the beauty of this small town that between herself, her husband and son, and Murray and Sarah and Sharon had kicked the population of Loveland, Ohio up from 6,500 to 6,506.
Entering onto Main Street, passers- by openly stare at the tall, beautiful red headed woman pushing a perambulator from out of the last century containing a lovely, dark-haired' possibly one or two year old baby and a, possibly three year old russet haired boy that left no doubt that the lady pushing the old buggy could only the boy's mother.
"Good afternoon!"
Strangers that—many— would no longer be strangers in 'time to come' would say: "Good afternoon!"
Pulling her Irish brogue from where it had been hidden for the past two years, "An' wishin' a good afternoon to ya too, I say."
Charmed! Feeling as though they had passed through a moment of shadow into sunny daylight.
Of course not yet having the slightest idea whom this red headed stranger was, how would many of those women passing by on this day know that 'in the not too distant future' they would be wearing a 'Creation by Ellen'.
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That Evening 5:13 PM
The 'Open For Business' sign in the window turned to simply read: 'Closed'.
Behind the counter, the cash drawer of the National Cash Register open, Sarah was counting the 'ones', 'five' and 'tens' and even the two 'twenties' that 'Pink's Hardware and Feed' had take in on this their very first day of operation.
"So?" Impatiently asked.
Laying the counted, segregated by denomination stacks of cash to the side. "Hold on, Murray." Sarah then began to count and stack 'pennies', 'nickels', 'dimes', 'quarters', 'silver half dollars' and even 'silver dollars'.
Tallying each individually, Sarah taped a corresponding key of the National Cash Register, then replaced the individual stacks into the registers departmentalised drawer.
If one were to notice, the vein in the hollow of Sarah's throat began to pulse.
Looking at the three impatiently standing on the other side of the counter, then to the stacks of coins still before her, Sarah, once again began to count, and tap and place the coins into the National Cash Registers departmentalised drawer.
Closing the drawer. "You remember I told you that Agnes told me that we'd probably make her hundred collars a month in the first two days we're open?"
Malcolm, Ellen and Murray impatiently waiting.
Sarah's vein pulsing." We don't have to wait for our second day...." tapping a key on the National Cash Registers bank of keys, the drawer loudly springing open "...because we did it in one day!"
Seated on a folding bridge chair, holding Sharon on his lap, his mouth open, Murray shook his head in disbelief.
"Look, I've important things to say that you 'don't' know about, and things we've 'got' to talk about!"
Not wanting to sound like the 'boss', however Sarah is definitely considered the motivating brains of this undertaking, that so far had exceeded all their expectations.
"so..." again hesitating to sound as though giving an order "...why don't you..." taking two dollar bills from the cash register and handing them to Malcolm "...return this tray to Viktor, and buy whatever he thinks we'd want for dinner, that he might sell."
Fully aware that Sarah 'was' the boss and— knowing her qualities— happy for it. "We want sweet rolls or bread?" Malcolm asked.
"He must be getting ready to close also, so whatever he thinks we'd want, will be fine." Sarah repeated.
Shifting Sharon to his other knee. "And don't forget to thank him for the doughnuts this morning!"
A long day, feeling a bit testy. "Of course I will!"
Waiting until Malcolm returned.
"You talk to Lester today, tell him how you want your, uh. studio?"
"Yes..." taking hold of her son's arm as he begins to totter off "...he said he thinks he knows exactly the space I want, and that he'll clear all the winter stuff out tomorrow and begin putting the walls up."
"You want a separate sign?" Murray asked. "Or something painted on the window?"
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Still finding it hard to believe that this dream she'd had was really happening. "On the window, I think. Nothing too fancy. Just something like 'Creations by Ellen'.
"The people? They'll know what you mean?"
"There'll be a shelf full of women's hat that they'll see through the window, and also me making them, so, yes, Murray! I'm pretty sure they'll know what I mean."
5:38 PM
The door opening, Malcolm returned with the same silver-plated tray reloaded with doughnuts and sweet rolls along with a dinner knife and five saucers.
Standing wedged between his mother and the counter, reaching up, Clyde grabbed a doughnut from the tray.
As, tearing one in half, Murray gave a piece to Sharon, whom immediately shoved it into her mouth.
"We have things to talk about. And I think I know how to keep this place..." motioning about "...running properly."
Unintentionally assuming the role of — for a better word, 'boss' — however, by unspoken decree, Sarah had been completely accepted as such.
But not wanting to issue another order, coming from around the counter, Sarah walked to the card table display returning with with two more folding chairs. "Sit." she said politely to Malcolm and Ellen, then returned to her place behind the counter.
5:49 PM
Agnes and me had lots of time to talk on my first day..."
Becoming reflective: "Can you believe that it's only been 'four days'!"
Ellen speaking out. "From the time you took the train to meet Agnes, 'till
now...? 'Four days'!'No! I still can't believe it!"
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Considering this, now, as their first official business meeting.
"Anyway..." going on "...'first things first! Agnes told me that..."
Reaching beneath the counter, Sarah removed four items: a small canvas drawstring bag, with the name 'Lowland National Bank' printed on it; what appeared to be a wheel within a steel stand with 3X 5 slotted cards attached; a green, hard cover accounting book and another, smaller, paper covered records book.
"...at the end of each day, when our last customer leaves'..." tapping a button, the bottom register drawer springing open "... we count the money and register it both..." tapping another button, Sarah typed '$141.72' — accounting for the two dollars given Malcolm— tapping the same button a second time, the drawer shutting, a tag reading 'Daily Total' popped up.
Sarah, in a way showing off: Malcolm, Murray and Ellen amazed at Sarah's ability and knowledge of the working of the 'National Cash Register Company' register, and— especially Malcolm— of the machine itself.
"Then, if it isn't too late, we take whatever money we'd made on the day..."
Giving Sharon another bit of doughnut, " Every day?" Murray questioned.
"Yes..." putting the entire one hundred-forty-one dollars and seventy-two cents into the canvas draw string bag and pulling it shut "...we take it to the bank every evening, and if we're late, we take it the next morning... By the way..." she added "...it's too late now, but first thing tomorrow morning we..." motioning "...will be over to see 'Mister Malarkey', the bank president himself to open our..." motioning again "...joint business account."
Removing Clyde's hands from the edge of the tray. "Excuse me..." Malcolm asked "... 'Malarkey'? That's our bankers mane? 'Malarkey'?"
Giggling. "That's what I asked Agnes also. and she said 'Malarkey's been Pink;s, and her and her husbands banker for years, and even helped seeing them through the depression."
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"Okay..." Ellen said "...so we'll stay with 'Malarkey'. What else?"
"She said that no matter how much we take in, two-thirds of it should go back into the business, or remain for the business."
" 'Two-thirds? 'Two-thirds' seems like a lot of money."
"It is, Malcolm. But when hard tomes come, that money might mean staying afloat."
Shrugging his shoulders in either surrender or agreement.
"Look, I know you two..." looking from Malcolm to Murray "...are concerned ab out the stock. About how to keep track of it and how to replace what's been sold."
"Tell the truth, Sarah, that's what's what's making me crazy. What the hell does Malcolm and me know about this business?"
"You two seemed to be doing okay with the customers you had today, and selling almost a hundred-forty-four dollars worth of merchandise today, our 'first day', by the way, isn't too bad."
"Yeah. That money's not too bad at all, but those people today... almost all of them knew exactly what they wanted..."
"And where to find it." Malcolm added...As, once again, he pulled both of Clyde's hands from about the rim of the silver-plated tray.
Wiping doughnut drool from his daughter's chin with a diaper. "But 'how' to keep up with it?"
"And when times it for us to buy more?" Malcolm questioned.
"That's not a problem, you two."
"What the hell do you mean, 'that's not a problem', Sarah!"
"Show you why." Taking the wheel within a steel stand. Turning the wheel to 'Suppliers' and removing one of the 3X 5 slotted cards. "Here!"Sarah said, laying it, writing side up, onto counter top.
6:01 PM
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Looking at the card. "What is this?"
Now! In a micro-second of thought, Sarah Kaminsky, the thirty-three year old Polish immigrant— as the opening of a window— Sarah had complete understanding of all that Agnes Pink had passed on to her; and how to implement that which had been passed on to her.
In Sarah Kaminskys micro-second of thought and forethought she 'knew' herself to be— what in future years would be known as a 'CEO'— the person in their new business responsible for making 'all' managerial decisions.
In Sarah Kaminskys second Micro-second of thought and forethought she saw Murray, her 'capable' husband as 'General Manager' and, if he wanted to, he could do some shoe repair for our customers. In her micro-second of thought she saw, 'mechanically inclined' Malcolm Murphy as 'Product Manager'; also as the operator of 'Pink's Automobile repair'. Within her micro-second of thought Sarah envisioned ' artistically inclined' Ellen Murphy as the operator of 'Pink's Women's Hat Boutique'.
6:01 PM
Looking at the card, "What is this?"
"Huh?" Sarah's thoughts back to here and now.
"What is this?" Murray repeated.
Written in Morris Pink's bold lettering: 'ATLAS SUPPLY!' Below a Cincinnati telephone number and address.
"Murray..." her eyes shifting from her husband to Malcolm "...this is the name of the supply company that sends a man around at the start of every month to check our stock, and if we need more, will ship it to us along with someone to re-stock whatever needs to be restocked."
"You mean we..." jerking his thumb towards Murray "... don't have to worry about every nut and bolt that goes out, that has to be replaced?"
"No, you don;t!" Taking a bite of a cherry topped sweet roll. "That's about it." Stalling... Chewing, and swallowing before, "But there's something else I didn't tell you about this place.
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The tone of Sarah's voice bringing all heads and eyes onto her face.
Agnes sold us the house, and it is 'all' ours. And so is 'Pink's'! But..."
" 'But'?" Murray questioned.
"Agnes and her husband, Morris, did not, nor do we own this building."
Alarmed, "Never thought about that. Who owns it, then?"
"Agnes said there's never bee a problem. The building is owned by this really rich family in Cincinnati that has always kept up the maintenance but we... the businesses here takes care of our own places. Like if there's a leak in the toilet, we fix it. Or if we feel our place needs to be re-painted, we take care of it."
"What's the rent here?"'
"Over the twenty-five years, Agnes said, they'd only raised the rent twice, so it's now 'one-fifteen' a month."
"So now..." Murray said "...before we make a penny, we have to lay out two fifteen each month."
"Don't forget, we're not paying anything for the house."
"But it's a big house, so there will be bills for Gas and electric."
All quiet a moment... Other than Sharon's gurgling baby talk.
"Hey! What the..." covering his son's ears with both hands, freeing both Clyde's hands, allowing him to grab a chocolate doughnut from the silver-plated tray "...fook we worry'n about?"
All eyes— other than Clyde's that were on the rapidly disappearing chocolate doughnut— are now onto Malcolm, whom in his excitement has slipped into his Irish brogue.
"This here store's been here for twenty-five fookin' years, even through that fookin' depression, an' it's still here! Ain't it?"
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Waiting for a reply, and when none came: "I been hearin' those old weezin' model 'A's' an' 'Chevies all day, an' love fixin' 'em!" Malcolm said emphatically. " So... an' we've talked about it! I'm..." correcting himself "...'we're' going into the 'A' an' Chevie ' repair business!"
"Wait a second!" Ruffling through the circular card finding apparatus. "Yes..." Sarah said "...thought I'd seen it." Removing and handing the 3X 5 card to Malcolm reading: 'Shell Oil Station' With a 'Milford' address and telephone number.
"We passed Milford on the way here..." Murray said "... it's back about five/six miles."
"Long way to get some air for a low tire, I'm thinking." Ellen said.
Everything appearing to fall in line. "Tomorrow, morning..."
Interrupting Sarah. "After we see Mister Malarkey..."
Clyde and Sharon's heads uplifted, turning to the rapid exchanges between their four parents.
"Yeah..." interrupting his wife "...then I think I'll take the Hudson, and my 'boy-O'..." ruffling Clyde's hair "...for a ride to Mister Shell's Oil Station; see if I can find out if there's any local places to get supplied."
"Why don't you see what we might need to get that old Chevie long bed in the back running first." Murray suggested.
"Yes, the pig farmer man was in today wondering when his hundred pounds of 'pig slop' would be delivered?"
"We even know what he means by 'Pig Slop?" Ellen asked
"No. But I guess we'll have to figure it out." Sarah replied.
"I looked that long bed over, and all I think all it needs to get moving is an oil change and a new set of 'plugs'."
"You'll take care of it, then?"
"Guess 'Pinks Automobile Repair' is open for business, huh!"
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The One Week Writing Workshop shows you how to write a book step by step through a series of motivating writing activities. Working with your own creative ideas, you’ll learn a 7-step novel writing method to use now and on your future novel projects.
