crawling from the wreckage

Well, here we go again.

Way back in 2016, I wrote this story about a co-op that opened in my neighborhood and how I predicted its imminent demise. And sadly, two years later, I wrote this story about the closing of the co-op, just as I had predicted. Before you start calling me names, let me make it clear that I sincerely hoped that the co-op would succeed. I really did. But the folks that ran the co-op and made its business decisions were the main obstacle that kept the co-op from being a success.

Well for nearly two years, the building that housed to co-op sat vacant. My wife and I would stroll past the locked building on our daily walks. We'd sometimes stop and peer into the darkened windows, only to see the same empty store fixtures in the same positions as the last time we stopped for a curious look. Early in 2020, well into the throes of the worldwide COVID-19 pandemic, we noticed a flurry of activity within the walls of the former co-op building. We spotted a man carrying a toolbox walking in through the usually-locked automatic sliding doors. One time, we saw a couple of guys toting some wooden planks — possibly a disassembled shelving unit — to the waiting bed of a pickup truck. It appeared that something was happening in the co-op building, but there were no physical signs announcing a new business. My wife monitors a neighborhood Facebook page, but only posts of speculation offered any clue. And there was plenty of speculation mixed with suggestions and wish lists concerning the next inhabitants of the co-op's former site. Some hoped for something akin to a mall food court, offering a variety of international and eclectic cuisines. Others requested a marijuana dispensary (You know who you are!) Still others proposed — in all earnest — odd combinations of brewpub/dry cleaner or music store/concert venue/Mexican restaurant. My neighbors are obviously nuts... and the last thing some of them need is a marijuana dispensary.

As the weeks moved on, the activity behind the closed doors of the co-op building increased. A light would glow late at night and we could see the shadows of busy workers doing something constructive. Then, one day, we noticed that the large sign above the door read differently. It looked the same, but upon closer inspection, it was, indeed, a different sign. The large "Creekside" logo remained the same, but underneath, the words "co-op" now read "Market and Tap." Ah ha! A clue!

As July became August, Creekside Market and Tap opened for business with little to no fanfare. It was the most unspectacular opening of a new business that I had ever witnessed... or not witnessed. A few times, in the final week of July, as Mrs. Pincus and I passed by the usually-locked front doors, they swung open — unleashing a shock of air-conditioned breath that took us by surprise. But they closed just as quickly, leading us to believe that the controlling mechanism was mistakenly left in the ON position. On the first of August, however, when the doors again opened, a man with a face mask stretched under his chin greeted us with a minimally friendly "Come on in! We're open!" My wife and I, our face masks properly protecting our noses and mouths, stepped back from the man and his offer and waved him off. We politely answered, "No thank you." from behind our cloth barriers. The man, by this time, had wandered away. During the pandemic, my wife and I have put limits on unnecessary visits to businesses. We don't "browse" like we did in the "pre-COVID" days. However, the man didn't seem to care if we entered the business or didn't.

There is a small, plain banner that reads "NOW OPEN" that is suspended from the far end of the front overhang about twenty feet from the main entrance. There are no other indications that the place is open for business, let alone a grand opening. Aside from tiny signs printed from a home computer that are taped to the inside of the dark tinted glass windows, Creekside Market and Tap looks about the same as it did when Creekside Co-op closed for good. There is one neon sign that glows in a side window and advertises a local brand of deli meats, but that's it. Also, the former raised outdoor seating area appears to have been converted to an "employees only" cigarette break area, as betrayed by the apron-clad folks congregating at two tables and the prevailing cloud of secondhand smoke floating heavily above them. Not the most welcoming of sights.

Proudly closed!

A little internet investigation revealed that the Creekside Market and Tap is home to four individual businesses — all with different operating hours. They are: Dave’s Backyard Farms, Creekside Restaurant & Deli, Cheshire Brewing Company and Herrcastle farms — all fine business, I'm sure. As a resident of Elkins Park for nearly forty years, I have seen business come and go. One thing I have observed is that when someone opens a new business in Elkins Park, the first thing they decide — immediately upon signing the lease on the space — is what days they will be closed. It is a consistent bone of contention I have with every single business I have seen open and close within the confines of the tiny business district that occupies the one-block stretch opposite the train station. The co-op followed this pattern and the new occupants of the co-op building appear to be carrying on the tradition. Just a mere three weeks after proclaiming their "Grand Opening," they have struck Mondays off of their list of days they will be welcoming customers. And they made the announcement with an odd posting to their Facebook page. "In order to serve the community better?" How is closing a method of serving the customer better?

Penn's Woods.... sort of.

Speaking of hours.... When they are open, the hours vary greatly among the four vendors. Only the deli is open every day that the building is open. The two produce vendors operate towards the end opf the week with Herrcastle offering an additional day over Dave’s Backyard Farms. The Cheshire Brewing Company is open Thursday through Sunday with nearly different hours on each of those days. My wife's parents operated a business within the confines of a huge, multi-vendor farmers market for over thirty years. The rule of the market was: if the building is open, your business is open. Period. No exceptions. It is both confusing for and off-putting to your potential customer when they see a business that is "roped off," denying access for purchases for shoppers who are there right now, as well as being an embarrassment to those vendors that are open. Customers don't know who owns what and they don't care. It really isn't the customer's concern. It is up to the business owners to make their wares as accessible as possible to the customer. That's just plain good business sense. Also, try to spell the name of the state you're in correctly on your website.

Not so fast there...

So, Creekside Market and Tap is not yet open a full month. They have four vendors with erratic hours and they have altered their overall hours of operation to eliminate a day of business. Not off to a winning start. Though, based on comments on a community Facebook page, a smattering of customers were very disappointed by some of the business practices. There were issues of attention and friendliness by employees. As recent as five days ago, a customer stated they were told that the deli stops slicing meat an hour before the posted closing time. There were comments regarding product selection. Most distressing were the comments about employees failure to wear proper face protection while working around food. These comments are met with little to no response. Although, those that were acknowledged, received a response that was downright defensive and confrontational.

Look, I understand that opening a business is a stressful thing. Sure, there is added stress with the cloud of a pandemic hanging above. I know that all new businesses suffer from "growing pains" at the beginning while they work out the kinks. I have seen a few strides Creekside Market and Tap have taken towards enhancements. The beautiful natural wood picnic tables out front are a nice, welcoming touch. I think it might be a good idea to clean up the spotted lantern fly carcasses that are strewn about the sidewalk surrounding those beautiful tables.

Again, I wish Creekside Market and Tap all the luck in the world as their business begins. I hope it grows and expands to include additional vendors and I sincerely hope it is successful. I just hope they don't fall into the same downward pattern that befell the previous tenants.

Unfortunately, it doesn't look good.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

where to now, st. peter?

It was inevitable. I'm just surprised it took this long.

On Wednesday evening, December 19, members of the Elkins Park community gathered with members of the board of the Creekside Co-op and voted to close the struggling business at the end of the day on Saturday, December 22 — three days before Christmas and six years after it first opened its doors. Everyone in attendance was sad. After all, this was the death knell for a community experiment that many looked upon with great hope. However, as I had mentioned in a previous blog post (from three years ago), it was destined to fail from Day One.

Please! Don't misunderstand me! Despite my negative attitude towards the co-op, I really wanted it to succeed. I did. But, it couldn't. It was run by a group of folks whose heart was in the right place. Until, of course, that heart shifted to be come a chip on its shoulder.

The co-op floundered because it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be. Did it want to be a gourmet market? A community gathering spot? A convenience store? It wasn't sure. I do know what it wasn't. It wasn't a co-op. Sure, you could become a member, but, unlike a true co-op, no one was required to put in a certain amount of work time. Membership fees entitled members to the peace of mind that comes from knowing you are supporting a business that is poorly run. Oh, and once a month, you could choose a day to receive 5% off of your shopping order. Aside from those meager "benefits," the co-op offered nothing of substance to members. The place was chock full of salaried employees who didn't necessarily live in the community, something that sort of defeated the purpose of the co-op's mission. Plus, and perhaps even more astounding, at the conclusion of the meeting that decided the co-op's demise, a collection was established to help meet the final week's payroll for the co-op's forty-five employees. Forty-five! That place should have run comfortably and effortlessly with less than half of that staff. I feel bad that folks were losing their jobs in the thick of the holiday season, but, if the co-op management had been more realistic, their final decision would have affected far fewer people.

But that was the problem with the co-op. The whole deal wasn't fully thought out. Before they sold their first jar of sun-dried tomatoes or smashed their first avocado, the co-op board purchased the building, instead of renting. Once the doors finally opened (after a lengthy, delay-filled three years), the co-op chose to stock some of the same products one could pick up for less money at one of the three supermarkets within close competitive distance. They opened for the business day well after the foot traffic had passed their locked front doors on their way to the train station, thereby losing potential "grab and go" breakfast business, as well as missing the boat on commuters picking up something to take to work for lunch.

In the six years of the co-op's existence, I never received a flyer, a coupon, a sample, or any sort of enticement letting me know that they were open for business. Twice, I remember stepping off the train after my evening commute and spotting a young lady in a co-op apron offering a tray of tiny tidbits to my fellow riders. After two consecutive days, she was never seen again. On the handful of times I reluctantly breached the co-op's doors to pick up a small container of milk to tide me over until I could make it to an actual supermarket, I was never asked if I was interested in becoming member and never told how beneficial a membership would be.

I never found the co-op welcoming. I never found the employees friendly. I always felt like I was an outsider at a party where I was not on the guest list. Well, now that the party's over, visitors to the co-op's Facebook page are already speculating on what's going to move into the vacant space. While they are making many wild and totally unrealistic suggestions, a few have proposed that another local co-op — a successful one —  absorb our co-op.

And that, my friends, is why the co-op closed.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com