GLEN'S SUPERMARKET ON BOCA CHICA BLVD~THE LITTLE SUPERMARKET THAT COULD

 

An ad from Glen's Supermarket

Where Palm Blvd. runs into Boca Chica Blvd. now stands a permanently closed Taco Palenque. Before that stood a smallish version Lopez Supermarket, but originally Glen's Supermarket.  

Glen Herman had once been the manager of Brownsville's first H.E.B., but had run his own store since 1940.  

Mr. Herman was a stoic, almost stereotypical shopkeeper.  Entering the store in a business suit, white shirt and bowtie, he would proceed to his perched office, a raised platform giving him a view of the entire floor.  His dark course hair was combed straight back and he wore a businessman's forced smile.

His fidgety, wiry son Elwyn seemingly had a different DNA than his dad and their almost daily squabbles were part of the fun.  

Elwyn's money making schemes were just a bit out of Mr. Herman's comfort zone with son Elwyn jumping headfirst into projects while singing a rapidfire version of the 50's song "Ricochet Romance." Mr. Herman would sometimes look my way and simply shake his head.

Marna Herman, Elwyn's wife and I started cashiering at about the same time.  

Marna was a very conservative midwestern gal, stricty obedient to Mr. Herman and tolerant of her husband.  She explained the store's unique rules to me:  Boxes in the box bin were sold for ten cents, not given away.  Cold beer was ten cents higher than warm beer.  Checks from unknown people had to be approved by Mr. Herman.

Brownsville's grocery competition was more intense in those days.  Fed Mart on Central Blvd was cheaper than anyone else and had much more than groceries.  Minimax had great breads.  El Centro had its followers as did Villa Verde. King Mart existed for people from "across."   

But, Pace Grocery on Central Boulevard was our sister store.  If we ran out of something, Mr. Herman would send us to his buddy Jimmy Pace to borrow a case until our next delivery came in.  

And, of course, there were the two H.E.B.'s, one downtown and the newer one on Boca Chica.

All of our ordering and stocking was done by Santos, known only by his last name.  Santos was from Matamoros as was Tony, the meat man.  

Santos ordered from a book, keeping the store absolutely full, with the cans perfectly fronted.   Like Tony, he spoke no English.  

Meat man Tony was a big flirt, always in Mr. Herman's dog house.

Drunken shrimpers were more than welcome to cash their huge checks, especially if they bought groceries.  

The gypsy girls, the daughters of Madam Palm, were not as welcome.  

Much of the store's business came from the streets behind the store;  Carthage, Villanova, Marquette and Stanford, but also from Palm Boulevard and Rio Viejo.  

Mr. Herman himself lived in Rio Viejo and  knew what those customers wanted, personally helping choose their meats, wrapping them in white butcher paper, marking the price with a black grease pen.

It's odd how the memory works. While I have to think a bit to recall my Iphone number, I still remember that we sold Biltmore Luncheon Loaf 3 for $1.00,  Hoffman House beer at .79 a six pack, lard for .10 per pound and cigarettes for .35 a pack.

Just outside the store, Elwyn had his penny gum machines and ten cent riding horses always ready to go, freshly painted.