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An Unhappy Ending to Strand on Fulton Street
“Isn’t it amazing?” he said. “Finding a book about Denmark’s Tivoli Gardens, written in Danish! I don’t believe I would be able to find this book in Copenhagen.” A frequent visitor to New York, Edlund said he always returned home with a hefty load from the store. “I’d tell my friends, if you’re in New York, go to the Strand bookstore on Fulton Street. I can’t say that any more. I feel sorry about that.” So ends the popular store’s 12 years on Fulton Street, and 20 years Downtown at several locations. First scheduled to close at the end of August, the Strand got a month’s reprieve from the landlord, who was asking triple the current rent. Along with the increase, lengthy water main work outside on Fulton Street further threatened the financial future of the store, an annex of the main emporium at Broadway and 12th Street. “It looks like another year of construction and I felt it wasn’t worth the gamble to go for the huge rent increase,” said owner Fred Bass, whose father began the business in 1927, with a store on Fourth Avenue’s famed “book row.” There were still some finds on that last day, but the bargain hunting was joyless as the last customers made their way among the half-empty shelves. “It’s called the collapse of bookstores in New York,” said a book dealer who gave his name only as Xavier. Two red shopping baskets, nearly filled to overflowing, lay at his feet as he patiently considered each title among the film and drama section leftovers. “Virtual bookstores are what you have now,” he lamented. “It says something about what’s physical and real.” Dave Smith, a heavily bearded Strand employee of six years, spent most of the day behind his desk. He sat quietly and read, and now and then returned to the task of taking apart the heavy wooden desk where he had spent countless hours directing customers and answering the phone. It would be going home with him, he said. “One of the managers who used to be here, he was always wanting an excuse to find a hammer and a nail and go to work,” Smith said, his voice quiet and solemn. “He built all this stuff, almost all the shelves, everything made of wood. So there’s some sentimental value to it.” Devoted customers, some in tears and bearing refreshments, came to say goodbye to the close-knit staff. Even on that last day, one Southbridge Towers resident, who would not give her name, said she was still scouring the neighborhood, hoping to find a spot for the annex. “You know,” she said, “I still feel I haven’t done my job because I haven’t found a space for them.” The next day, all but one of the annex workers would report to the Broadway branch. Jack Forbes, who had been with the store for nearly two years and worked the register, said he dreaded the move. There would be the formidable task of relearning the stock (“I know off the top of my head where almost all the books are here”) and facing anonymity in the sprawling uptown location, “We’re the annex people versus the main store people,” Forbes said. “We’re all like family here and they’re splitting our family.” From his perch behind the counter, Forbes looked out at the vast, familiar space. “I love this place,” he said. “I’m hoping not to cry, at least not in front of my customers.”
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