Archive for the ‘dry goods’ tag
Bluestein's Wholesale Dry Goods, 933 Gervais Street: April 2014 7 comments
The date was, I think, 1983, at about this time of year, and pretty much everything was right with the world. The Carter years were over, I was at USC and had, after a bit of flailing around, found something I liked and was was good at that I figured I could spend the forseeable future doing. It was springtime and I was taking a fun elective, "Introduction to Cinema", or some such course title.
I can't now recall the professor's name, but he was quite entertaining and well versed in the material. I remember in particular one of his theories, probably not 100% serious, that people in the first few decades of the 20th century lived their lives much more dramatically than we do now. This would explain, he said, why silent movies look so over-acted to us, but yet when he went back to the original period newspaper reviews of the features, he invariably found praise for the naturalness of the performances. At any rate, we screened many of those silent classics as well as more modern flicks into the French New Wave period and beyond. The kicker for the course was that for the final project, we would split into groups and make our own short films.
Well, as it happened, one of my Computer Science friends was in the course with me, so we formed a group of two for the project. I had, from somewhere, a Super-8 camera with an attached flood, so we were good on the technical side -- all we needed was an idea and script.
Now, one of the films we had screened was Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal. I don't know what I would think of it now, but at the time, I believe we both thought it a bit pretentious, and more importantly, a good subject for parody (which could only be helped by the fact that everybody in the audience would have seen the film recently too). I recall very few of the details, but the key fact is that a robed avatar of DEATH was going around taking lives with visual metaphor of a candle going out. We figured that with modern medical technology and life support, HIS job might be a bit less easy. We kicked it around a bit and figured we could get a usable 10 minutes from the idea easily.
Since I had the camera, and there were only two of us, it was obvious that my friend was going to have to be DEATH. It was a bit of a problem that she didn't look at all spooky or dangerous, but she had some ideas for that. Now, she was from North Augusta, so I have no idea how she knew more about this piece of Columbiana than I did (other than I rarely paid attention to anything outside of a book in those days), but she walked us down to the Vista (which was not called that at the time) and into Bluestein's Dry Goods. I had only a vague idea what a "dry goods" store was and certainly would not have automatically included sheets in that category, but she easily found a good sized, inexpensive sheet, and we were out the door. Next we stopped at the grocery for some black Rit dye, and mixing that up in my mother's washer (I have no idea how the next load of clothes came out), we dyed the sheet black.
Wound in black sheets, and with a bit of white makeup, my friend was a perfect DEATH. Next we made some cardboard signs saying "Life Support", and got some trick birthday candles. We put the signs up over the end of hall double doors in LeConte College (the CSCI building at the time), and our tracking shots had DEATH wafting through the corridors of that building and through the doors into the "Life Support" ward. At that point, the idea is that we would cut to the trick candles, and that everytime DEATH would snuff one out, it would re-light. Finally, he would be so frustrated he would break the 7th Seal (on a bottle of Seagrams 7..) We planned the shoot for well after hours (there was no building security in those days) and everything went perfectly without a soul present to ask what in the world we were doing. We got enough footage that we figured we were golden and wrapped up.
Next, I had the film developed, and it was time to edit the movie together. At that point I was suddenly stricken with pollen season allergies like never before and never since. It was non-stop sneezing, and my eyes were watering so badly I literally could not see to use the Moviola. In the end, my friend had to take it and set it up in the downstairs computer remote in the (as we called it at the time, Physical Sciences building) and she edited the movie together completely on her own during her late night shifts as the computer operator there. She did a great job of it, and the film was a hit with the class, we got good grades and moved on to the next semester. As far as I know, she still has the reel somewhere, but I'm sure it's better in memory that it would be watching it again now...
And that's my Bluestein's story!
J. Rubin & Son Co., 1742 Blanding Street: early 1990s 2 comments
I was meaning to get back to this building when the sun was not against me, but as yet have not. Anyway, I noticed it driving back from downtown towards Harden one day a few months ago and the name sounded vaguely familiar.
Doing a google search turned up this this fascinating article on Columbia's Jewish history, in which J. Rubin & Son played a part along with many other familiar names.
As far as I can tell, the neighboring unit, 1740 Blanding Street was last South Carolina Electronic Equipment & Supplies.
Dry Goods Store / The Flanigan-Clement Candy Company / Paul D. Sloan Interiors (moved), 927 Gervais Street: late 2000s (etc) 2 comments
I noticed on my Vista stroll a few weeks ago that part of the Mais Oui building on the north side of Gervais was vacant. Apparently the last occupant, Paul D. Sloan Interiors relocated down the hill a little ways. The building is quite nice, and I found this information in a 1983 application to the National Park Service for entry in the National Register of Historic Places:
54. 927 Gervais Street. This two-story brick building was constructed ca. 1911 as a dry goods wholesale store. The first story has four brick pilasters with granite bases and capitals framing a central entrance and its flanking display areas. The second story has three paired one-over-one sash windows with granite sills and alternating granite and brickwork surrounds. A projecting metal cornice with brackets is located above the second-story windows. A stepped parapet with granite coping and a central brick balustrade is at the roofline. An original second story balcony, a first-floor cornice, and the original first-floor doors and windows have been removed and new doors and windows installed between the brick pilasters. The interior of the building has also been remodeled.
An interesting, if frustrating, story from The Columbia Star (apparently based on old reports from The Columbia Record) gives the candy store information, and this bit of excitement:
About 8 am, on July 23, 1921, John R. Martin departed his home at 1420 Calhoun Street. He was driving an Essex roadster owned by the Flanigan-Clement Candy Company, a local wholesale firm, whose emblem was painted on the right door. As the company’s primary traveling salesman, he made some deliveries to various local customers. Around 3:30 pm, having completed his itinerary, Martin was returning to Columbia along a rural roadway in Lexington County. He was heading back to the main store at 927 Gervais Street. The salesman did not realize that he was about to have a thrilling experience to tell upon reaching his destination.
He was approximately two miles from Broad River Road when he noticed a Ford touring car straddling the road. Martin recalled encountering this vehicle ten minutes earlier at a crossroads. Apparently, there were no dwellings along this isolated stretch of roadway. Two white soldiers, in full uniform, were standing in front of the automobile. With their hands they were beckoning him to stop. A third trooper suddenly emerged from some nearby foliage brandishing a Winchester rifle. His two companions also had drawn .45 caliber Colt revolvers.
Who knew the candy business was so dangerous?