"Sam! Sam! Deanna's on the phone, she wants to know if you can bring her ice cream home."
"Sam! It's Deanna again, she said they're out of toilet paper… oh and she wants to know when you'll be home tonight."
The shouts to Sam were called to him by his workers as they answered the phone to one of Sam's daughters, taking advantage of the fact that their dad owned a party store. Most likely Denise would call within the next ten minutes with strict instructions of another item she needed her dad to come home with. Most would agree they had every right to this, considering the store was named after the two of them.
The year is 1971 and if you stand on the corner of Mack and Ashland in Detroit, you can see the large, bright party store proudly proclaiming D&D Party Store. If you take a closer look, you can see the owner, Sam, standing there with a cigar hanging out of his mouth, his large framed glasses sitting on his face, and his mustache wiggling as he laughed at the neighborhood kids surrounding him.
D&D Party Store was opened up in 1971 and the two Ds in the name of course stood for Denise and Deanna. The store stood large and proud on the corner of Mack and Ashland in Detroit, and sat below apartment buildings that Sam rented out above. He owned the whole strip of stores that existed along the street, including an ice cream parlor and a movie store. However, the only store he managed himself was the party store, and continued to rent out the rest of the strip of stores to various businesses. He kept control of the apartments and rented those out periodically to anyone who needed a place to stay. More often than not though, he kept the rooms empty for his family to stay in for free when they traveled to America. Sam was born and raised in Syria, and loved having his family come to Michigan and spend time at his store and with his family. The neighborhood was compromised of a very mixed culture, and Sam's middle eastern family was quickly accepted.
Most people who entered D&D Party Store at one point could still recall exactly what the large brick building corner store smelled like as soon as you set foot inside. Instantly one was greeted by a strong smell of pinesol that lingered in the air, the faint trace of bologna, and of course, the lingering smell of cigar smoke. The faint smell of lunch meat was of course related to the fact that the store was not just a liquor store as the name implied, but also a mini grocery store. There was everything from canned goods, cereal, and paper towel, to fresh lunch meat from the deli counter and of course, liquor and wine in the large coolers in the back. The other two prominent smells, pinesol and cigar smoke, were directly related to the man who owned the store. Every single night like clockwork, Sam could be found mopping the floor of D&D's with pinesol until the floor shinned. He kept the place spotless with his janitor's bucket and large bottle of cleaner. Of course, while he was mopping, there was always a cigar hanging out of his mouth. Actually, you could typically find him that way, stocking the shelves, ringing up customers, calling in orders, always with a cigar in his mouth.
Anyone who needed a job could find one with Sam. Family members worked there while visiting, his daughters could be found ringing customers up at the register, and anyone who needed work, found it at D&D. Most people who met Sam would say that he was a little too trustworthy, offering a job to anyone off the street who needed it and promised that they would be reliable. He quickly became very popular around the neighborhood, as he supported many young men who needed work. He gave food to people who needed it and was always willing to give an extra loaf of bread or extra can of soup to someone who was hungry. Sam never turned anyone away.
On the side of the building, the name CHARLIE could still be read, as he was the man who owned the store before Sam. A few months after Sam took over, people in the neighborhood graffitied the wall, so now it read SAM, in proud letters and then F*** before CHARLIE. Sam was a fresh new face that the whole neighborhood adored, especially after Charlie before him. When you entered the store, you were overtaken by the friendly and hip environment. D&D's was the place to be, whether you just needed a bottle of liquor, some lunchmeat, or a quick chat with Sam, you never left the store empty handed.
All the way in the back of the store existed a door with a sign reading "PRIVATE KEEP OUT" and was where Sam's two daughters spent most of their time. They loved to be in the front of the store, but as it was not the best neighborhood, they were most often hidden away in the back. There sat a couch and small table, where the two girls would hang out and do homework, and of course peek out constantly to people watch. Also, in the back room, Sam kept his dog Mickey. While he was opening and closing the store, Mickey could be found roaming freely around, hopping up on the counters, and following Sam around diligently. But, during store hours, Mickey was hidden away in the back. He was a large German Shepherd who was vicious and trained by Sam to guard the store. He knew the only time he was allowed in the store was when it was just him and Sam, or if there was ever a situation in which he was trained to attack. Most people only knew of Mickey and never actually saw him hidden away.
Sam's generosity and willingness to trust just about anyone is eventually what led to the demise of the store. As it neared the end of the day, the only people still in the store were Sam, a few of his family members that were visiting from Syria, and some lingering customers. All of a sudden a loud crash was heard, followed by a string of swear words. Sam rushed over to see what was going on and discovered a young man that he recognized as the cousin of one of the boys who worked for him.
"Hey man!" shouted Sam. "Get the hell out of here! What do you think you're doing!"
"Man! F*** you Sam! I'm just getting something to drink," the man said knocking over more items on the shelves.
"Go on! Get outta here! Just leave. Now." Sam said angrily, not wanting anymore trouble to start.
As he turned to the door, Sam was all of a sudden hit from behind and smacked in the back of the head with a large metal beer can. Crumpling to his knees, Sam pulled out his gun and aimed it at the man, screaming at him to leave the store. He shot once and got him in the leg and the man took off running. Worried about the safety of the man now, Sam sprinted after him in order to call him an ambulance. He explained to the police that when he was hit over the head he figured it had been by a gun, and acted as he knew he had to. He was let off with no charges and figured all was well until the media got a whiff of what had happened.
The news quickly turned the shooting into a race issue, claiming that Sam had only shot the man because he was black. This couldn't have been further from the truth, as Sam hired many young black men from the neighborhood, and would have even given the man a job, had he just asked. However, as the news circled around, the neighborhood began to turn on Sam. People picketed outside the store and spread false rumors about the owner. Sam hoped to get the situation under control, but soon he was receiving threats towards his daughters and wife and knew that the store was not worth his family's lives.
He sold the store and the whole strip of buildings to a man in 1981 and left the neighborhood behind for good. Sam put his blood, sweat, and tears into that store, and it broke his heart to have to leave it behind. His dream was to own a store just like that and he dedicated all of his time into making it happen. He arrived at the store at 8 AM to open it up, and usually didn't come home until 2 AM after he finished closing up and cleaning. The store had been closed for almost 20 years before I was born, but the stories of my Gidi's store lived on in my family. My Gidi was the hardest working, most bad ass man that I ever knew, and I could only imagine how amazing D&D's was for the short ten years that it existed.
Shortly after selling the strip of stores to a young man, all of the buildings were burned down. It was later found out that the man had set the stores on fire himself in order to collect the insurance money. Sam's heart was broken, and D&D's was officially forgotten about by the neighborhood. However, the store always lived on through Sam's stories and through his daughters.
Now, if you happen to find yourself strolling through Detroit, on the corner of Mack and Ashland, there stands a small office building. But, as my mom stands outside next to me and gazes at it, all she can see in her mind is the large yellow sign that used to read D&D Party Store and her dad behind the counter, laughing with a customer, a cigar hanging out of his mouth.
