‘Penney for your thoughts’
Staff Writer
As the daughter of the first manager of the J.C. Penney store in Caribou, Felicity Howlett’s childhood revolved around the popular Sweden Street department store.
Aroostook Republican photo/Debra Walsh
A group of former J.C. Penney employees ventured beyond the gates earlier this year for a photo taken in front of their old place of employment before it was razed. The group meets monthly for lunch to remember the “good old days” and keep up with each others’ lives. Kneeling in front is Sally Thibodeau. In middle row from left is Iva Deveau, Martha Hanson, Ethel Moody, Phyllis Hewitt and Roland Cyr. In back are Betty Branscom, Luanna Guerrette, Mary Mitchell, Leatha Wilson, Fran Cyr and Hubert Keaton.
Milestones were celebrated at the J.C. Penney store with old-time costumes and enormous cakes. Here the 50th anniversary was observed with employees, from left, Phyllis Corrow. Roland Cyr, Nancy Pierson, Verna Johnson, Iva Deveau and Joe Gaston.
Felicity Howlett, whose father managed the J.C. Penney department store from 1929 to 1961, is dressed in the latest little girls’ fashions and positioned in the store window as a model in 1948.
The Penney store was originally housed at 56 Sweden Street, which later became home to the L.S. Hall clothing store. In the photo, store employees gather around the original counters.
She recalls sliding down the freight chute in a large cardboard box and modeling the latest fashions in the store’s display windows.
“My recollection is of growing up in a place that had the allure of an enchanted kingdom,” wrote Felicity, who now lives in New York City.
Her recollections were among the memories received by the Aroostook Republican earlier this year as the retail landmark was razed and work began to create a parking lot for the adjacent U.S. Postal Service. The store closed in 1993 after a new Penney store opened in the Aroostook Centre Mall in Presque Isle.
Originally, the store opened in the building at 56 Sweden St. in 1929. Ten years later, operations moved across the street to the Corey Building, where it remained until it closed. Initially, the store was one floor, but in 1960 the building was expanded to include a second story.
Felicity recalled the “orchestra of pneumatic tubes” that whizzed overhead as money was transferred from a customer to the main office where change was made and returned via the tube.
In her day, the store departments were distinguished by the salespeople’s “special attributes.” The clerks were prepared to refit return clientele from top to bottom. They knew customers with all their quirks.
Felicity remembered the shoe department where a customer’s feet were measured before trying on a new pair.
“Any little girl, fresh from reading Cinderella, would have to be made of stone not to be impressed by a man who knelt to take a reading of her little foot and then produce a little shoe that fit perfectly,” Felicity wrote.
Felicity and her mother also got first dibs on new hat shipments.
“When Nellie Tarris, Verna Johnson or Thelma Sanfacon called us … my mother and I would tear down to the store to looking things over,” Felicity recalled.
A special memory was modeling of the latest fashions by the manager’s daughter and other youngsters.
“As employees’ children, Katie Beale, Susan Mahoney and I modeled clothes, along with adults, in the fashion shows or were outfitted and deposited in the front window for a live ‘Back to School Special’ sale promotion,” she recalled.
For two years, Felicity also entertained customers by performing Christmas carols on a small organ at the front of the store.
As a little child, Felicity remembered the friendly and professional atmosphere as she traveled up and down Sweden Street.
“Everyone seemed to have the time to reach down and acknowledge a kid and the space to make someone feel a little special,” Howlett wrote. “That was the way things seemed to work in town, and it was the way people worked in the (Penney) store.”
Manager Jack Howlett’s work at the store also changed the life of his nephew Jack E. Duncan of Presque Isle, who worked in the store between 1946 and 1951 in part-time positions.
“Probably the most notable event of my career at Penney’s was one Saturday night as we were closing the store, my Uncle Jack said, ‘I want you to meet Janet Snowman,’” said Duncan, referring to another clerk working that evening.
The pair of Penney clerks became a couple and Jack and Janet were married in 1952.
Roland Cyr of Caribou worked as the operations manager and dressed the storefront windows for 33 years. He is a treasure trove of store facts, figures and memories. He has kept scrapbooks of the store’s history that detailed Penney’s anniversaries, special sales and promotions.
One recollection included an incident when a gentleman, who had had undergone surgery, went into the dressing room to try on some clothing.
“When he didn’t reappear, I had to push the door in,” Roland recalled. “He was dead in there on the floor.”
One morning, Roland had opened the front doors for business. Seconds later he heard glass breaking as a car came crashing through the doors. A car had been left running in front of Day’s Jewelry Store (a former Sweden Street business). The gear slipped into reverse and the car was propelled into the Penney storefront.
“I could have been crushed,” Roland recalled.
Barbara Duncan Pinkham’s “life of crime” started and stopped in the sewing notions department at Penney’s.
“Not more than 5 years old, I spied a card of beautiful rainbow fish buttons that had to be mine,” Barbara recalled. “Upon arriving home, I showed my newly acquired booty to my sister who promptly told on me.
“My mother drove me back into the store and ‘encouraged’ me to return them,” Barbara said. “I had to apologize to the clerk and promised never to steal again.”
Another memory was paying 10 cents to use the bathroom on the second floor near the shoe department.
“(It’s) something I think should definitely come back into being,” wrote Barbara. “Thank you for letting us relive some cherished memories.”
Jeanne Bugbee of Fort Fairfield recalled when her mother lost the diamond in her wedding ring in the fabric department.
“Both my grandmother and mother sewed so we would spend much of the time at the pattern catalogs searching for the latest fashions,” Jeanne wrote. “Then with pattern in hand, walked around the displays of fabric looking for just the right colors or texture for what we would soon be making,” recalled Jeanne.
After an evening of shopping in Caribou, including a stop at Penney’s, Jeanne’s mother noticed a stone was missing. With her husband, the search for the diamond began.
“It was winter and snowy sidewalks made the task at hand seem impossible,” wrote Jeanne.
After retracing their steps through the Sweden Street stores of Hall’s, Buzzell’s and finally, Penney’s, the diamond was found near the pattern catalog stand.
“Whenever I am at a pattern catalog looking at the patterns, I remember looking for mom’s diamond …” Jeanne recalled.
Iva Deveau worked at the store for years, including when transaction information was ferried between the floors and the main office by money cups and cables.
“The clerks didn’t handle money,” Iva recalled, who worked in the office. “I would make the change and send it back to the clerk by the cable.”
During the harvest season, children came in with their checks and Iva cashed them at a table set up on the main floor.
Large shopping bags were available at the store’s entrance, according to Iva.
“Customers would fill them and take them to the registers,” Iva wrote. “However, some customers would just walk out with the merchandise.”
“Stepping into the J.C. Penney store in Caribou was always a pleasant experience,” wrote Cynthia Tornquist, who lives in Hartwell, Ga. “Passing through the ladies’ department downstairs brought a greeting from Priscilla Daigle as well as a chance to check on the latest merchandise. One might also expect a friendly nod from Roland Cyr … or an enthusiastic greeting from Joe Gaston.”
Cynthia made the “sad” realization that with a new shopping mall in Presque Isle that the store in Caribou would close.
“The new Penney store was, as expected, larger fresh and new, but I always had the feeling it was geared toward either another generation or for people ‘from away,’” Cynthia wrote.
Finally, here’s a few memories of this reporter. The J.C. Penney store provided the backdrop for several lessons on life.
I was 5 years old when I was escorted to the J. C. Penney second floor restroom after misbehaving while shopping. Following Mom’s deposit of the dime required to enter the comfort station, I promptly received a spanking for my pranks in a neighboring store. That 10-cent tuning-out taught me that shopping with Mom was not a time to act up.
Similar to countless other Aroostook County kids, I picked potatoes during the fall to purchase winter clothes. At 13, I was expected to pay for my “Christmas” dress, the holiday outfit worn to family celebrations and church programs.
With a price tag of $13, I tried to convince Mom to pay half for the holiday dress. But, she said, I needed to learn the value of money.
While I learned the former lesson, the wisdom offered by the latter episode was lost on me.
The Aroostook Republican thanks the contributors who shared their thoughts for the series on the landmark store. Although gone, the memories will always be part of the city’s history.
