I'm Not The Only One Who Will Need Some Salvation!

For the past few months, I have been considering writing an article about the Salvation Army thrift store on Fairview Avenue in Greenport, tentatively titled "What's Happened To Sal's?".  The store has not been the same for a few years, and I've told more than one friend recently that I would not be surprised if the place packed up and closed for good.  It turns out that my prescience, as usual, was not misguided.  

The Salvation Army Thrift Store will be closing for good on July 29th, according to the sign in their window.

I could go on and on about how discouraging and disappointing Sal's closure is for me and, presumably, for so many others.  That store used to be great, regardless of its shabbiness.  Who cared if the dressing room walls had no hooks and were full of holes when there was always a good variety of clean clothing to choose from, and most of all, it was CHEAP!  At least half of my wardrobe for the past 9 years came from Sal's, at $2-$8 a piece.  Oh, the vintage pieces I used to find there!

Well before the onset of Covid, I began to notice that I was not finding much of anything at Sal's.  It became common for me to walk out of the store without having purchased anything, whereas this had been a rarity.  From visiting Sal's once or twice a week, I found myself forgetting to stop by for weeks.  There was not much new to look at in the men's clothing section, lots of crap everywhere, no new records or tapes, clothing for several dollars with stains and rips that should have been put in the trash, employees that looked miserable, and a new store manager who was creepy and suspicious.  Then there was the Christian music and Salvation Army testimonials they began piping into the store last year.  Ugh!

About two months ago, ready to leave the store empty-handed yet again, I approached one of that store's long-time workers.  I asked her bluntly, "What happened to this store?"

"What do you mean," she asked (though she knew exactly what I was getting at).

"I never find anything here anymore, and I see the same clothing every time I visit," I told her.

"Well," she explained, "we get so much cheap clothing now that just doesn't sell [this is a result of fast fashion crap that is inexpensive when bought new].  And we stopped picking up donations at homes because of Covid and we haven't resumed.  So, the only donations we get come through the front door."

"Aha," I said.  "I knew it!  You just aren't getting the quantity of donations you used to because you aren't using your trucks anymore."  She nodded her head, looking almost dejected, as if she had read the writing on the wall long ago, like I had.

2 weeks ago, as I was preparing to leave the store empty-handed, an empty-handed customer about to open the door to leave in front of me turned and asked the creepy manager if the store was "closing for good."  The manager said no, explaining "we're only taking donations through the front door.  If you know a truck driver looking for work, send him to us."  2 weeks later the signs were on the door.

For at least two years, Sal's has been putting a sign out front in the lot telling customers that after 2:00 they "no longer accept donations."  I once asked an employee why this was so.  "We're short on staff," was the response. 

Shopping at Sal's had become torturous for me, so its closing is a bit of a relief.  Goodwill?  No, thank you!  That place gives me the creeps.

What is the most precious thing I ever found at Sal's, you ask?  I suppose it's the old Wagner 9-inch cast iron skillet I paid $7 for about 7 years ago and that I cook with regularly to this day.  I remember exactly where I found it hanging from a hook on a wall.  Those were the good old days at Sal's. 

Something is not right with the world.