The summer before my sophomore year at Akron High School, when I was fourteen, I wanted to work at Schafer Drug. I needed money, liked the soda fountain in the store, and knew work was the only sufficient excuse not to go fishing with my family.
I approached the owner/pharmacist, Rollie Schafer, and asked if he was hiring. A man of few words, he said, “No, maybe later.” I left, went back the next Tuesday and asked again. He said, “No, maybe later.” I’m not sure how many Tuesdays I asked, but he finally hired me.
I was thrilled. I was over-the-top elated.
The salary was $1.19/hour, and I was rich. I loved my job.
Marjorie, or Mrs. Schafer as we called her, stocked the store with jewelry, make-up, greeting cards, and unique knick-knacks for women to buy as bridge prizes. We made our vanilla ice-cream, served green rivers and double chocolate shakes, and our hot fudge sundaes were decadent.
I worked with my good friend Bonnie, as well as Judy, Janice, Becky, Rosalie and others I can’t recall. We had a blast. We sold product, made fountain drinks, and kept the shelves stocked. Dusting was not much fun.
Mrs. Schafer had trouble hearing, but she did not miss one word or giggle from the fountain. Every Christmas she gave us exquisite gifts wrapped in elegant boxes she decorated herself. I had never received such extravagance. I saved them for years.
Once, a man came to the register with horse tack, and said, “Charge it.” I said, “Okay,” as I reached for the charge book, “And your name is…?” Mr. Schafer bolted from behind the pharmacy counter, took over the transaction, and apologized, profusely. I did not know his name, and he was wealthy and prominent. I almost lost my job.
People with money were often given discounts, and the poor were not. An obviously impoverished woman came to the pharmacy with a prescription. Mr. Schafer took a bottle of Milk of Magnesia from the shelf, pasted on a prescription label, and charged the lady more than over-the-counter price.
Those experiences contributed to my being an advocate for equality. It seemed upside-down to elevate or d
iscount a person based on money. Even as a teenager, it seemed backward, weirdly wrong.
Mrs. Schafer sent Bonnie and me to Denver on Amtrak for Dorothy Gray cosmetic and makeup training. We thought we made the big-times.
My favorite customer was Bill Beebout. He was a WWII vet, worked at the Akron News Reporter, sat at the east end of the counter, and always supported school fundraisers, even buying Football Mums for Homecoming.
I worked for Schafer’s throughout high school and summers during college. The experience was major in high school memories. Rollie and Marjorie passed away in 2007, as did my parents.
Tenacity, learned at fourteen by landing my first real job, still serves me well, most of the time.
Working continues to help me avoid what I don’t want to do.
Written 4-19-2016
Dr J’s Comments
I never know what is going to land on the paper as I write. My picture doesn’t fit my story, but it is a collage of high school pictures. Shows how we all looked in the early 60’s.
Dr. J: Your stories are always so interesting and exciting to read! I wish I had gotten to know you sooner in life! Perhaps you know that I worked in a drugstore as well starting the summer after I had completed my freshman year of college. Some of what you mentioned in this story I can relate to… One thing though, your wage made you wealthy! While you were earning $1.19 an hour, I was getting 85 cents. Inequality! Then when my pay was raised to $1.25 truly made me feel like wonderful. I worked parttime at that drugstore for something like 8 years – even after I was beginning teaching so some other employee could have a special day off from work. We will have to have a milkshake to our memories!
Hi Lois, I keep waiting for another one of your stories to pop up. I would love it! I had no idea you too worked at a drugstore. It was so fun – even when I was doing it, it was fun. Some things are only fun when they become a memory, but working at Schafer”s was a highlight of my high school, for sure. Those years also helped me get the hours for my vocational certification. Another gratitude!
Love your stories! I remember that if wanted a banana split there was a chance we’d have to run across the street to Uhlehopp’s and buy the banana first!
How come you’d get Mr Schafer to chase us boys out of the store for reading Madd magazine off the magazine rack?
I was going to mention Bonnie and I had our fair share of flirting with the boys…lol…The Schafer’s probably thought we should be working? Imagine that. Oh yes, I now remember the magazine rack.How sad we don’t have stores like that anymore.
The discount thing was always upside down, when I started working for General Motors they owned Fridgerdaire. They encouraged employees to buy their appliances. They were good but expensive. Upper management got a bigger discount than the lower level people (Jr. Engineers ). I never understood the logic in that. Certainly they could better afford the price than I, and if you wanted employees to have experience with the product so we could be advocates fot the product, there were many more underlings than uppers. So I had a lesson; rank has its privilege. Much later I learned that money doesn’t make you smarter. You can be rich and dumb too, but the world thinks that if you have money you’re more important, and your opinion is right. That is why people still think some Hollywood actor/actress’ opinion is news worthy. So glad we got that clarified.
I like that, “rich and dumb” SO true!
I’ll have a chocolate malt with extra malt please and just leave the mix can right there, i want all of it!
Oh my, some people would ask for extra malt…I forgot that…Can we still get malts somewhere….See, if everyone would write their stories about Schafer Drug, we would have a better chance of having accurate history:-)
My sister, Marlene, worked there. She had one customer who came in daily saying, “make me a chocolate cowboy!” She said she was always tempted to say “Poof, you’re a chocolate cowboy!” ; j
Hi, Geri, Marlene worked after I didn’t. Like her, I had many customers I remember. Those were the day women bought little gifts for their bridge parties. Mrs. Schafer always had a lot of little things to choose from. I don’t remember chocolate cowboys. I remember Green Rivers and Chocolate cokes. Such good thoughts:)