A fateful pair of shoes

I took this picture of CenterStage last week. The marquee for the performing arts center is at the far end of the block. CenterStage now incorporates much of what was once Thalhimers Department Store.

The opening this month of Richmond's CenterStage performing arts center reminded me of why my mother stopped shopping at Thalhimers.

For much of the last century, shopping in downtown Richmond meant a visit to either Thalhimers or Miller & Rhoads or both. The two large department stores, each occupying nearly a full block on Broad Street, were separated only by 6th Street. CenterStage now occupies the block where Thalhimers once stood. (With the rise of suburban malls, the two flagship downtown stores struggled to stay in business. Miller & Rhoads closed in 1990, and Thalhimers shut its doors for good in 1992.)

Thalhimers shared a corner of its block with Loew's Theater, a grand movie palace that closed in 1979. It was reopened in 1983 as the Virginia Center for the Performing Arts and was later renamed the Carpenter Center for the Performing Arts. The Carpenter Center closed in 2004, and following a renovation and restoration it reopened as CenterStage, now incorporating much of the old Thalhimers store.

But back to the story of why my mother stopped shopping at Thalhimers. In 1943, I was about two years old, and my mother decided I needed a new pair of shoes. Shoes were rationed during the war, so with her ration coupons in hand, she looked at what was available at both Miller & Rhoads and Thalhimers. She settled on a pair from Thalhimers.

Two weeks later, the shoes got wet and the soles came apart. Back to Thalhimers she went. The clerk who had sold her the shoes offered to refund the purchase price but said she couldn't return the ration coupon. Without the ration coupon, my mother couldn't buy replacement shoes. So she began working her way up the chain of command. The department's buyer also told her he couldn't return her coupon. The store manager gave her the same response. So my feisty mother decided to take her request to the very top – to Mr. Thalhimer himself. She camped in Mr. Thalhimer's secretary's office until he agreed to see her. She told me it was a long wait.

Once she explained her problem, Mr. Thalhimer relented. He gave her back her money and her ration coupon. My mother then walked across 6th Street to Miller & Rhoads, where she bought me another pair of shoes. And she vowed never to return to Thalhimers. As far as I know, she never did.

Our family's relationship to Miller & Rhoads was to endure for many years. When my sister and I were old enough to care for ourselves, my mother went to work – at Miller & Rhoads. She worked there until retirement – first selling linens and then selling women's sportswear. As a teenager, I too worked at Miller & Rhoads, first as a stock boy and then in men's furnishings. The store awarded me a scholarship when I was a freshman at the University of Richmond.

Ironically, I used some of my earnings from my job at Miller & Rhoads to buy a pair of athletic shoes from Thalhimers. Miller & Rhoads didn't carry the brand I wanted. I never told my mother where I'd bought them. She would have been appalled.

Those Thalhimers athletic shoes lasted for a good 10 years.