Building Sale Signals Store's Demise

By Barry Owens and Carl Glassman


There are precious few places remaining in Tribeca where a working man or woman can buy a pair of comfortable shoes at a reasonable price and pick up a tin of oxblood shoeshine while they're at it. Even fewer can compare in comforting reliability to the old shoe store at the corner of Chambers Street and West Broadway where, short of the advent of the soft sole, little has changed in more than a half-century.

		"Welcome, everything is on sale, we'll give you a perfect fit and a quality shoe," says Steven Kleinfeld, the owner of Craig's Shoes. These days Kleinfeld is offering a variation of the line, almost without fail, to every customer that walks through the door. One day soon, Kleinfeld knows, that next customer will be his last. The two-story former bank building at Chambers and West Broadway, which houses Craig's, a poster shop, a florist and a shoemaker/jeweler, was sold recently, spelling the end for this quiet neighborhood fixture where time seems to have stood still. Customers' comings and goings at Craig's-and some have been coming for decades-is announced with the tinkle of a bell on the door. Like the ring of the 1960s-era rotary phone behind the counter and the jingle of the cash register that dates to the early 1900s, the sound of
bells (as opposed to electronic beeps or pulses) is a holdover from another era. "Our computer has been down for 56 years," jokes Kleinfeld, 57. More candidly, he admits that he simply does not like change. The business was successful when he took over for his father, Joe, in 1986, and he saw little reason to make modifications. The store opened down the block at 114 Chambers Street in 1949 and moved to the corner in 1982. Other businesses in the building will try to reopen elsewhere. Philip Williams, owner of the poster shop, said he hopes to find another location in Tribeca. The florist and the jeweler said they were also hunting for spaces. But Kleinfeld, whose lease is nearing its end, is liquidating his stock. Once he shuts off the lights, he said, he'll simply walk away. "Oh no, where am I going to buy my shoes?" said a postman who recently stopped by, as he has done for three years, to buy a pair of work boots. He did not want to give his name. "It's too bad they can't incorporate you in the new building," he said. "They probably could, but we'd have to raise the price of shoes from $50 to $600," joked Kleinfeld. The end should come as no surprise to Kleinfeld and the other merchants in the building, said Bill Brodsky, who is partners with Elliott Ingerman in Tribeca Associates, the buyer of the property. "This is sold to us as a development site and the tenants realized over the last couple of years their stay was not long-term," Brodsky said. "Economics of that sale make it impossible to have those types of tenants in that type of development." The property sold for $24 million, according to a source familiar with the transaction. Brodsky and Ingerman said it was too soon to say what they will put on the high-traffic corner or whether the staid former Marine Midland bank building will come down. Condominiums or a "high-end boutique hotel" are under consideration, they said. "We are residents of this neighborhood and we have walked by the site many times," said Brodsky. "We think it's an important gateway to Tribeca." That's little comfort to Joseph Lawrence, a large man with a size 16 foot who works security at New York Law School. He said it was hard to find shoes in his size and he's been buying five pairs at a time from Craig's since the early 1990s. "I'm depressed, Craig," he said to Steve-a common mistake. "You've been around for years. That sucks, man. What are you going to do?" "I'm going to be a brain surgeon," Kleinfeld replied dryly. Then a pause. "We're here til April." Lawrence turned to George Pugh, a 20-plus-year employee of the shop, who had stationed himself by the door. "What are you going to do?" "No idea right now," said Pugh, 56. On another day, Vernel Louissaint, 39, drove down to the store from the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. He's been buying his shoes at Craig's since he was 15, when he worked as a messenger on Park Place. "I always come here for my Wallabes and my Clarks. They got the colors and flavors here," he said. "That's messed up, man. You know how hard it is to find Wallabes in any size you want? Cats come from all over." "Get all you can while you can," Pugh announced. "These old stores like this, every time you turn around this has happened," Louissaint said before turning to leave. "Tell your friends," Kleinfeld said to him. "Even your enemies we'll take." A 30-year Tribeca resident who lives a few doors down on Chambers Street stopped in. The man, who declined to give his name, lamented the end of the corner shoe shop. "It's a terrible loss for the neighborhood. I come in for warmth and familiarity, not to mention the shoes." The store carries more than a dozen brands, and Kleinfeld has a rap for every one of them: "The sole will last forever. Hand sewn…Very low price. One hundred percent waterproof…Fully cushioned, soft sole like butter. If you don't want to wear them you can put them in your pocket." Pugh's fellow employee Pablo Lopez, 62, has also been at Craig's for more than 20 years. "Make his cash register ring, and he's happy," Lopez said of his boss, whose quiet nature and deadpan delivery take getting used to. "Really, he's a pussycat." Even during slow hours, Kleinfeld never stops moving, shifting the stock, peering restlessly out the door, or scrawling signs onto pieces of shoebox cardboard that he puts up in the storefront to draw in customers. Recently, he taped one to the front door that read, "Serving Tribeca since 1949." Just inside the door, there was another that said, "Fixtures for sale." That offer included the shelves, chairs, mirrors, shoehorns, ancient foot-measuring devices, stock ladder, rotary phone and even the antique register. "What am I going to do with it?" Kleinfeld said, turning to mark an "X" through another day on the calendar.