*The Yiddish word for candy stores is "tsukerniye"

In January 2003, Redbook Magazine compiled a list of "100 Ways to Feel Great in the New Year." The No. 4 on the list was "Eating a Sweet Treat" from your "kinderyorn" (childhood).

According to Jon Prince, "When you buy candy, you're buying a metaphor for your past. A bad economy fuels retro candy. We don't have a lot of money left over for luxury. Instead of going out for dinner, you want to connect with your past. You want emotional resonance."

When I was a child growing up in Rockaway Beach, New York, we had a little corner candy store named "Mary's." It was a Mom and Pop store; they served lunch to the students from P. S. 42. And for 5 cents you could enjoy an egg cream.

"Vos iz geveyn, iz geveyn--iz nisht tu."
(What was, was--it isn't anymore.)

How well I remember candy buttons, marshmallow cones, wax bottles, Slo Pokes, candy cigarettes, Zotz, Necco wafers, Pixie Stix, Jawbreakers, and Atomic Fireballs.

Arnold Fine ("I Remember When!," 2/2/01) wrote,
"When we were teenager, we picked up a few cents, especially on Saturday nights, when we stood outside the candy store. Very few people had telephones in those days. So on a Saturday night ("nakht"), if a boy wanted to take out his girlfriend, he would call the candy store.
The candy store lady would answer the phone, then say,
'Wait, I'll see if I can get a kid to call her.'
Then she would come outside and say,
'Who wants to call Esther Rosenberg in 1294 Grant Avenue?'
One kid would volunteer and run to "di dire" (the apartment) house next door to the candy store. He would ring the downstairs for Rosenberg and yell in the "koridor" (hallway),
'Esther Rosenberg, you have a telephone call. Sounds like your boyfriend.'"

We would wait till Esther came down and she would press a nickel into our hand ("hant") or if it was a big date, maybe a quarter. We got an extra dime if we announced, 'It's your boy friend.'"

Paul Mazursky, film director, wrote in the book, "I Remember Brooklyn" by Ralph Monti:
"I lived on Bergen Street and spent a lot of my time in my grandfather's candy store around the corner on Saratoga Avenue. The store was the big neighborhood hangout for the kids as well as for the older ("alt") men. The old-timers would come in and buy the New York Daily News or the Yiddish paper The Forward, and kibitz with my grandfather ("zeyde") in the store. While they kept themselves busy talking, smoking and arguing politics, the kids ordered two-cent egg creams. It was like one big family gathering."

Lainie Kazen say that during her teenage years in Brooklyn she spent hours on end hanging out at the candy store, located on the corner of Church and Flatbush Avenues. The popular saying was, "I'll see you at the Church ("der kloyster"). Her father used to say, "You hang out there so much I'm gonna move a bed ("bet") there for you." During "der zumer" (the summer), the candy store yielded to days at the Brighton Beach Baths. (The Brighton Beach Baths was an attempt at an urban Jewish equivalent to the country club. There were 3 salt-water pools, live band performances, and lockers that were rented inexpensively for a 10-month season. The writer's mother-in-law, Adele Wolfe, was a member.)

Jerry Della Femina, the advertising guru, wrote about a Brooklyn candy store called the Rat Hole. the "hart" (tough) kids hung out there. His favorite candy store was on MacDonald Avenue.

Clive Davis, President of Arista Records, recalls sitting on the stoop in the evenings to wait for the Night Owl edition of the New York Daily News. As soon as it was delivered to the corner candy store, he would grab "di tsaytung" (the newspaper) and check the progress of the Dodgers.

Jack Carter, comedian, remembers his father slaving in a Brighton Beach candy store, seven days a week, from early "frimorgn" (morning) to late at "nakht." At one time his father owned a candy store on Eighteenth Avenue in Bensonhurst.

Eli Wallach grew up in the back of a store in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn during the 1920s. His parents ran Bertha's Candy Store--located in the middle of Brooklyn's Little Italy. The store was the place to buy the daily "tsaytung" and a pack of "papiros" (cigarettes), or some penny "tsukerl" (candy). It was also the message center for many a local "khevreman" (gangster).

Jackie Mason ("Jackie, Oy! Jackie Mason from Birth to Rebirth") wrote about a candy store on the corner of Henry and Madison Streets. In those days, on the lip of the Second World War, the sharp kids would cluster outside and play penny poker and drink two-cent Cokes.

Larry King, who grew up in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, remembers Ebinger's, the bakery, with its Charotte Russes, and the candy store with its "one-cent tooth-destroying sweets." The owner was a man named Sam Maltz, who referred to the kids as "bandits" (pronounced "ban-deets.")

Yes, according to Jillian Gould, "...it was common for Jewish immigrants to open small businesses, because minimal capital investments were needed. While many of these businesses were hit during the Depression, candy stores were thriving. One reason these shops survived is that they were not merely about a commodity ("skhoyre"). Rather, they were as much about the pivotal role they placed within the community...These establishments were gathering places, meeting places, the center the community. The store was the local communication ("yedie") center, offering telephone service, the newsstand, and a meeting place for the local kibitzers."

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Marjorie had an uncle, Max Gottlieb, who owned a candy store in Brooklyn. She recalls a poignant line from the movie, "Liberty Heights," where actor Ben Foster says, "Life is made up of a few big moments and a lot of little ones...but a lot of images fade, and no matter how hard I try, I can't get them back...If I knew things would no longer be, I would've tried to remember better."