Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

(The opinions and views expressed in the commentaries of The Somerville Times belong solely to the authors of those commentaries and do not reflect the views or opinions of The Somerville Times, its staff or publishers)

When you walk into most retail stores these days, every single item has one of those plastic anti-theft devices attached to it. It is virtually impossible to shoplift in a store where these devices are visible on the merchandise. Some clothing items have the anti- theft device sewn into the product.

Then, of course, there are many surveillance cameras throughout most stores. Before there were all these theft deterrents, it was up to the staff of the store to try to ward off thievery while also welcoming you to spend money. To achieve store security while being a nice guy was a tough act. Enter, Mr. Rose. For those of us who grew up here in Somerville, there are many cult figures that had a distinctive presence in our past histories. Here is what I remember about one of these icons of old Somerville, the debonair storekeeper, Mr. Rose.

Mr. Rose was the manager of FW Woolworth’s five and ten cent store in Davis Square way back in the late 60’s. He was a real throwback to the stereotypical vintage store manager. Mr. Rose was a bald gentleman with glasses. He was always dressed impeccably, unruffled and unwrinkled. He ran his Woolworths with an iron fist, and a sparkling smile. If you asked Mr. Rose a question, you didn’t just get a short and sweet answer. You heard an articulate, entertaining dialogue peppered with humor and wit. He could have been an actor because he would have fit in with any of those old black and white sitcoms of the 1960’s.

There were no security cameras back then. Mr. Rose was all the security they needed. The man could move around with grace and swiftness to wherever there was a customer checking out his shelves. He moved even faster when there were a group of kids poking around the aisles.

His face became stern as he assessed a group of rambunctious browsing rug rats. At times, I was one of those aforementioned rug rats. We used to love to go into Woolworths and check out the pet section with canaries, parakeets, turtles and fish.
I always marveled at how quickly Mr. Rose could get from one end of the store to the other, almost as if he was on roller skates. If you recall, Woolworths was a pretty long store and he was up and down those aisles with great speed.

Mr. Rose showed up to see if you needed help and to keep you honest. He ran a tight ship with his staff of salesladies. One of which was named Mary. She had jet-black hair, dark drawn in eyebrows, and bright red lipstick. Mary cut an unforgettable figure for sure. She rarely smiled and she was quite outspoken and frank, and very entertaining. Nothing got by Mary. I worked with her when I was a stock boy at Woolworths a few years later and I’ll never forget her unique personality. Mary and Mr. Rose were quite a pair.

Lifelong Somerville resident Ken L recalls: “A great man was Mr. Rose! I sold shoes at Spencer Shoes next door to Woolworth’s. He would drop in daily to wish me a good day and served as a power of example of how to treat people. I witnessed a man confident in his demeanor, and witnessed how to best handle customers, by managing a well-oiled operation at Woolworths. A positive role model in my life.”

John R says, “Funny how I totally forgot about him until you mentioned his name and when I heard it I immediately remembered him. I suppose that speaks to the impression – and it was a positive one – that he made on customers. You just don’t see much of that these days, and when you do it stands out.”

When Mr. Rose eventually went on to manage Fields Stationary, also in Davis Square, he brought Mary with him. It really speaks volumes when someone from the past maintains a positive space in your memory decades later. I can still see the dashing figure he cut, in his fine suit and his welcoming yet stern smile. Mr. Rose is indelibly etched into the tapestry of historic Davis Square.