I signed the lease on a narrow storefront on Roosevelt Avenue in February 1978. Carmen said I was crazy. Elena was eight and asked if she could help choose the sign. Miguel was five and mostly interested in the empty boxes stacked in the back.
We opened on a Friday. The first neighbor through the door was Mrs. Okada from the dry cleaner next door. She came back Monday — and brought a friend.
By summer we had a line on weekends. Carmen worked nights at the hospital and mornings at the counter. The children did homework in the back room. I slept less than I should have and never once regretted it.
The shop felt like home. That was the point.