On December 8th, 2007, I visited Brownstone Books at 409 Lewis Avenue & Decatur Street in the Bedford Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn. It was easy to find from the Utica Avenue train station. It is only a few blocks from Boys & Girls High School, and as we ascended the steps out of the train station (I’d brought my four year old preschooler, Elijah along), it felt great being back in the Brooklyn I grew up in.
It was a pleasant day. There was no strong wind, and we saw many families strolling Bed-Stuy with scarves loosely tied about their necks, small children running to keep up. I remembered that the neighborhood didn’t seem as inviting when I was in high school, and Fulton Square wasn’t as clean as it is today. There was a nine foot Christmas tree, festively decorated with large red bows at the entrance of the square; Bed-Stuy just feels nicer now.
As we approached Lewis Avenue, we saw yellow and red banners affixed high on the street lamps, informing us that we were now entering SOLA, the Shops of Lewis Avenue Association. (Visit online at www.shopsoflewisave.com) Because of my research of Brownstone Books (See summary and response essays for Brownstone Books) I knew SOLA was the merchants association Crystal Bobb-Semple helped form with the other businesses surrounding her on Lewis Avenue. Armed with that knowledge, I felt as if I knew the bookstore as intimately as a customer who’s shopped there every weekend.
When we entered the shop, at once I was grateful there was no bell above the door announcing our arrival. We were not hard to miss in the small 700 sq. foot space. Children, from newborn to 2nd grade sat on the floor near the front of the store listening to a woman reading, Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type by Doreen Cronin. Elijah, my son, shrugged his coat off to the floor as if he were home, and scrambled to a spot next to a pretty little girl with large brown eyes. She smiled at him, and there Elijah sat until she left later with her parents.
I recognized Ms. Bobb-Semple (Crystal, as she told me later, is the title she prefers) immediately by her long locks and smooth dark complexion. I had seen photographs of her on her website (http://www.brownstonebooks.com), and seeing her in person, none of them were flattering to her. She was not tall, yet her posture reminded me of an Alvin Ailey dancer, straight and graceful. She smiled easily, and when our eyes met, she knew me.
I felt uncomfortable, at first as I maneuvered around deluxe strollers and into the two small aisles. The anonymity I had become used to in larger stores did not exist here. Despite the labels attached to each bookcase, books seemed to be arranged in no particular order. Though the space was small, there appeared to be a great variety on the shelves. A book about Marvel comic legend Spiderman sat across the aisle from a New York Times bestseller Brother, I’m Dying by Haitian born writer Edwidge Danticat. The décor was pleasant, oak wood worn to a refined patina. An oak antique hutch held about ten CDs, encased in their shrink wrap, available for sale. A low tea table, its three legs embellished with heavily carved scroll work, was draped with a lacey tablecloth; a Tiffany style lamp glowing beside a short stack of leather bound books. The arrangement made me feel like I was in the living room of a good friend, albeit one I didn’t visit as often.
The woman on the stool was now reading another book, and the children enthusiastically responded to the questions asked.
“What does everyone want to be when they grow up?” She asked.
“I want to be a princess!” A little girl shouted. We laughed.
The group in the store on this day were all mothers, save for one dad who chased his crawling baby around the storyteller. The moms looked to be in their early thirties, slim and Gap chic. These were the moms who know the 101 ways to prepare tofu in the manner that fools their guests into thinking it’s a well seasoned meat dish they’re eating. They seemed friendly, each nodding hello with a bright smile.
When story time was over, the group stayed for a while, and after careful listening I learned the owner, Crystal, had held a gathering the previous evening for her customers. I also noticed something amazing. In the midst of conversation, and the dressing of children for the running of neighborhood errands, commerce was taking place, though not as obvious as I’m used to seeing it. Cash and books exchanged hands, almost discreetly, in between compliments of the nicely laid buffet table of last night’s party. Recommendations of new books were offered and successfully accepted, then wrapped in small paper bags with the store’s name on it. It was almost like the embarrassment of having to charge your friend for something you would have given her for free.
All in all, I still need time to digest all I learned from visiting Brownstone Books. I’m too tired now.
Please note the photo is borrowed from urbanexchange/typepad. I hope I’ve sufficiently cited it. I’m a newbie…be gentle.
