Finding Thalhimers

Three months after the book’s launch on October 16, 2010, I’m pleased to announce that we’re down to approximately 300 copies of Finding Thalhimers! We printed 5,000 hardcover copies, and they’ve sold beyond my wildest dreams. Although the venture is not likely to be a big profit-maker (few books are), the experience of sharing it has benefited me in ways I hadn’t predicted. I’m flattered, honored, and — quite honestly — relieved that you, the readers, are enjoying this book. Beyond that, I am grateful for your enthusiastic responses to it.

Every day I receive emails, Facebook messages, actual hold-in-your-hands letters, and even gifts expressing that you emotionally connected with the characters, learned something new, recalled pieces of your own stories, were inspired to write your own books, etc. Our housepainter, whose son has served multiple tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan, told me that my book brought him to tears. Three people stopped me at the JCC today to tell me how they connected with the book, one of them letting me know that she lost her whole family in a concentration camp and is so proud of me for being a young person who appreciates my family’s history. Oftentimes these words are more beautiful than anything I could ever write.

One woman told me about connecting with her mother after reading the book. They talked for hours about her mother’s memories of working as a fashion model at Thalhimers in the 1940s. Another woman came up to me after a lecture and said, “I still have a receipt for my grandmother’s wedding gown that she purchased at Thalhimers. Would you like to see it?” Of course, my eyes lit up as I said, “yes ma’am, I would.” She mailed it to me several weeks later, and I gasped when I noticed that the receipt was dated 1898. It included every element of her grandmother’s wedding gown, down to the hook and eye closure, underpinnings,  and matching parasol. What a gift, this snapshot of Thalhimers’ in 1898…and the fact that such a receipt was passed down through the generations and into my hands here in 2011!

Walking the dog the other day, I ran into a neighbor who had read the book. She said the most wonderful thing: “Thank you. Thank you for sharing those stories.” Those words speak straight to my soul. What can be more gratifying than gratitude?

So, with that, I would like to say thank YOU. Thank you for sharing your experiences and memories with me, thank you for reading and appreciating my work, and thank you for helping to ensure that my family’s story and store will not be forgotten.

At all of my book signings and lectures, I hear the same thing over and over again: “There just aren’t places like Thalhimers anymore.” And I have to agree. If I think about it long enough, it concerns me deeply.

Thalhimers, like so many department stores across America, focused on building personal relationships and creating unique experiences. Yes, it was about selling things. Yes, it was a business. But it was more than that. Employees felt like they were part of something exciting and dynamic. Many people worked at Thalhimers for decades because they enjoyed it. They felt like part of a family. In Richmond and across the country, storeowners cared about their employees, and employees cared about their customers. Shoppers returned because not only could they find quality merchandise at Thalhimers, but attentive employees who really seemed to care and an environment where they could not only shop but be entertained, learn something new, and be part of a community.

Where can we find this atmosphere anymore? This web of connectedness? This distinct sense of place? When I travel to cities around the country — Wichita, St. Louis, Nashville, Atlanta, Baltimore — it’s becoming more difficult to tell them apart. Sure, each one has its historic landmarks and geographic features. But what makes our cities unique anymore? Where do we go to feel the heartbeat of a city? Is America becoming one long street lined with Cracker Barrels and Wal-Marts and Home Depots?  If so, how do we stop it and regain each city’s personality and charm?

I have an idea, but look forward to hearing yours. What if we turned abandoned downtown streets (like Richmond’s Grace Street behind the old Thalhimers and Miller & Rhoads) into marketplaces featuring local businesses and artisans? Bakeries, dress shops, locally grown food co-ops, used book stores, theaters, jewelers, children’s stores, sandwich shops, and bars with locally brewed beers. Not chain stores, but stores that express the community’s flavor and talents. Places where you can find gifts, food and clothing that you can’t find in other cities.

I was at Bizarre Bazaar last week (Richmond’s gigantic annual holiday fair with hundreds of vendors) and was shocked at the crowds. Why not create a permanent bazaar downtown: a constant marketplace abuzz with activity that encourages our city to embrace its uniqueness? We could even close off the street. Allow people to walk in the middle. Plant trees and flowers. Welcome local musicians like we do at Carytown’s Watermelon Festival every summer. Hold Christmas parties and Festivals of Lights. Art exhibitions and ethnic food festivals. Children’s costume contests and outdoor fashion shows.

Perhaps my idea is too idyllic. I’m sure there are zoning issues and city politics and differences in opinion that might make this dream impossible to achieve. But my ancestors dreamed big, and their business was around for 150 years. They adhered to a model that was flexible enough to change over the course of history and time. Now we need to create a new model to re-establish the character, community, and sense of place that we’ve lost.

Regardless of how we do it, American cities need to overcome the plague of “sameness” that has descended upon us and mature beyond the era of sprawl. We need to create city centers that are unique and community-based. Do share your ideas on how we can accomplish this. Something has to come next. Someone has to take the lead.

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If you remember shopping in downtown Richmond at Christmastime, then I don’t need to tell you that it was a special experience! As early as the 1910s and 20s, Thalhimers featured special Christmas decorations and Toyland for the children. If you shopped at Thalhimers in the 1940s or 50s, you may remember your mother putting on long gloves and a fashionable hat to take you shopping. You would be dressed in your holiday finest from head to toe, and perhaps the most memorable thing was riding a small train on Thalhimers’ rooftop.

The 1960s and 70s brought with them animated holiday windows along Grace Street full of model trains, animated characters, carolers singing, and snow-covered scenes that captivated the young and the young-at-heart. Hundreds gathered to watch Santa climb a ladder from the corner of 6th and Broad Streets into Thalhimers’ second floor, waving to the crowds below. Santaland in the 5th floor auditorium was a wandering maze of festive scenes leading up to Santa in his big red chair. Thalhimers erected big candlesticks on the walkway over 7th Street, declaring Richmond the “City of Candlelight.”

In the 1980s, while listening to Wham’s “Last Christmas” on the radio, you’d drive down to see the annual Christmas Parade, formerly known as Thalhimers’ Toy Parade. Perhaps you’d catch a glimpse of a celebrity…my sister gave Chevy Chase a high five as his float passed by! Inside the store, special attractions included LegoLand on the Fourth Floor and The Snow Bear Shop, where kids shopped for gifts in a life-sized artificial igloo. (No parents allowed!) Snow Bear Breakfasts were a special treat, singing along to the “Snow Bear Hokey Pokey” and doing a special rendition of “Here Comes Santa Claus” to summon Santa and Snow Bear to join in the fun!

Christmas at Thalhimers was a magical time. It may have been cold outside, but inside the store people’s hearts were warmed enough to stoke a lifetime of memories.

Handmade lace was a symbol of prestige and social status for centuries. Once it could be produced by fast-moving machines, it became available to the masses and lost its exclusivity. As it became affordable, nearly all women sought lace to craft fashionable clothing and curtains. William Thalhimer & Sons’ dry goods shop carried lace as early as 1873 when Valenciennes lace sold for 10 cents a yard. (By comparison, Thalhimer sold Japanese silks for $9 a yard that year.)

Last week, a woman named Mary Jane Wasch from Sarasota, Florida, got in touch with my father to tell him how much she enjoyed Finding Thalhimers. Her great-grandmother was Amelia Thalhimer, whose brother Isaac was my great-great-grandfather. Dad emailed me, “Mary Jane is in her eighties, but sharp as a tack. You should give her a call,” and gave me her phone number.

So I called Ms. Wasch and introduced myself. I was blown away when she said to me, “I’m so glad you called. I have some lace from Thalhimers, passed down by Bettie Thalhimer [another of Isaac’s sisters]. Would you like to have it?”

Two days later, I received the lace. Every time I look at it, it reminds me of how interconnected we are…and how my family’s business was so much more than just a store.

Everywhere I go, folks have Thalhimers stories to share! Here are a couple recent ones:

I started with Thalhimers in the early 1970s as a sales associate in the children’s accessory department on the 4th Floor of the downtown store. 20 years later when the downtown store closed, I was the Store Manager. It was quite a ride, and a wonderful one. I met such fine people, brilliant minds, hard working hands, and kind hearts. The Thalhimer legacy continues across the globe. The lessons learned, the values instilled in all of us that had the privilege of working for Thalhimers have made this city, this state, and truly parts of the entire world a better place to be. It was an honor to work there.
– Becky Lorraine, Downtown Store Manager

As a small kid, my mother took me to Thalhimers. Around 1947, we rode the escalators, which became narrower as we went up the floors. When we went from the 4th to the 5th, it was too narrow for my mother to stand beside me and hold my hand, so I could ride by myself, which I greatly enjoyed. Later, when I first came to work [at Thalhimers] on Nov. 18, 1963, at the end of my first week JFK was shot. I was so busy with my job and so glad to be working – all the world was just a blur. What really stood out were those first happy weeks at Thalhimers.

– Bill Gilfogle, Sales Promotion and Advertising from 1963-1992

Got a story you’d like to share? Please post it!

The book launch and Thalhimers reunion last Saturday has already etched itself in my memory as one of the best days of my life. More than 400 people showed up to buy a book, tell me their stories, eat a slice of 6-layer chocolate cake, hug Snow Bear, enjoy old photographs and memorabilia, and simply be together. It felt like a big family reunion.

Thalhimers alumni came from as far as New York City to join their former colleagues, and many of them wore their old Thalhimers nametags. A 96-year old woman named Lillian arrived in a wheelchair, and her son told me that Lillian had worked at the store for more than 40 years. Although she had trouble speaking, she managed to voice the words, “Thalhimers was the greatest,” and we posed together for a photo.

The book-signing line extended beyond the front doors and all the way through the lobby, which kept me busy for the entire two hours! At 2pm, I took a break to show an 8-minute video presentation about Thalhimers, including a couple great ads. Then Paul Levengood, CEO of the Virginia Historical Society, gave a lovely introductory speech before I spoke for a few minutes to thank all of the wonderful people who have helped me along this journey.

The best part of the day? When, fighting back tears, I thanked my Dad for making this project a reality…he came forward to give me a hug and whispered, “I love you. I’m so proud of you.” When I looked back out at the audience, several folks were wiping away tears. I only wish Gram and Grandpa could have been there.

I’ve been waiting for this day for a LONG time. But after five generations of my family put their lives into building their business, twelve years working on a book about Thalhimers seems somehow inadequate. Regardless, I hope it will be a lasting tribute to my family, their business, and the era of the hometown department store. Enjoy, and do let me know what you think!

Buy your copy today! 

When Dad came home from work with a black and white checkered box with a white string tied around it, we knew it was gonna be good. Sometimes it was a six-layer chocolate cake with a cherry on top. Other times the box contained flaky, cream-filled chocolate eclairs (still my favorite). Occasionally it would be filled with buttery rainbow cookies. Just the sight of black and white checkers made our mouths water!

In 1975 (the year I was born!), teen-ager Michael Hatcher started his career in Thalhimers bakery. Post-Thalhimers, Michael has owned his own bakery, now called Michaela’s Quality Bakeshop on Richmond’s Northside at 207 W. Brookland Park Blvd. Not only does he still use the exact same recipe for six-layer chocolate cakes and eclairs, but he also bakes strawberry shortcake, pies, Sally Lunn rolls, Boston cream pie, custom wedding and “special occasion” cakes, and all kinds of cookies and muffins.

Lyla and I arrived at Michaela’s just before closing time today, but there were still two six-layer cakes in the bakery case! I was overjoyed to see the eclairs, just like the ones Dad used to bring home, so we picked up one of those too. Seeing how excited Lyla was about the cake, Mr. Hatcher reached into the case and pulled out an extra piece of cake for her. “This one’s on me,” he said. Lyla’s eyes lit up as she took the piece of cake into her little hands. Not only did he give us a free piece of cake, but Mr. Hatcher walked us to the car and carried our bakery box. Talk about quality AND service…just like Thalhimers!

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I still remember Mr. Joe Cotton ringing the bell and setting a package on the front stoop, tapping on the glass and waving to me through the window before hopping back into his blue Thalhimers delivery truck. It was always fun to get a package, even if it was simply ten pairs of hose for Mom or a case of toilet paper. (Yes, Dad ordered toilet paper by the case. Sometimes we went to the basement to “do inventory” and count how many rolls were left.) Over the years, from horse-drawn wagons to a fleet of angular navy blue trucks, Thalhimers deliverymen maintained a reputation for being safe on the road, courteous to their regular customers, and fiercely loyal employees. In one of the photos scrolling above, Hezekiah Jackson receives a special award from William B. Thalhimer Jr. (my grandpa) for 50 years of service at Thalhimers.

After Walter Johnson had driven a Thalhimers truck for 25 years without a single accident or speeding ticket, Grandpa presented him with a safe driving award in front of his cheering associates. Grandpa asked, “Let me ask you, Walter: How is it that you’ve gone 25 years without having an accident?” To this, Mr. Johnson replied, “Well, to tell you the truth, Mr. Thalhimer, I look in my rear view mirror to see if you’re coming. If I see you, I pull over and let you pass!” Everyone laughed, knowing that Grandpa usually drove like a bat out of hell in his navy blue Cadillac. He had places to go, of course.