The building actually had him two windows, both of which were covered in vinyl ads for snacks and Newport cigarettes. It had a green door with a window in the middle, which was covered with a steel tracery gate and padlocked on its hinges. The small shop was a small brick building on the corner owned by a Korean family. My mother was watching me from the third floor window until I left.
On the south side of the street across from us was an empty lot. We lived in a beautiful brownstone building just three houses off the northwest corner of Diamond Street on 31st Street in North Philadelphia. I had just entered LP Hill Elementary School at Strawberry Mansion that year, and I was the smartest kid to count. That was in 1991 and a Strehmann butter-top wheat loaf was 1.49 cents. I was five years old when my mother first sent me to the corner shop to get bread.
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