Perdue's Addendum

Like Paul, I have many fond memories of Perdue's. I am glad he found a picture of it, a barn converted into a sporting goods store. As I recall, though I may be mistaken on this, it was located behind Mario Ferraro's dental office, which was itself a converted farmhouse.

But back to Purdue's. I remember the interior as dark and woody, like one would expect in a barn, subdivided into little rooms for each sport. Equipment was hanging everywhere, jammed into every nook and cranny. And the stock wasn't the "sporting goods" one would find at Sports Authority. It was a different era, and sporting goods meant lots of fishing gear: fly reels, poles, waders, little wicker bait baskets. I remember buying a little jar of pink fish eggs, which were bait to use in fishing the mighty Saddle River. There was also lots of hockey gear, ping pong accessories, and a machine for re-stringing wood tennis rackets. My father took me to Purdue's for my Little League baseball hats and mitts. We never called them baseball gloves for some reason, only "mitts."

Walt Purdue had some back or neck problems. I remember him in a neck brace several times over the years. But, like Paul, I also remember him as kind and helpful. He couldn't turn his head, but he would happily climb up and pull down a set of hockey skates to try on. And another and another, until you were both happy with the fit.

To this day, when I need running shoes I prefer to go to the local boutique running shop rather than a big box sporting goods store. I pay 5 or 10 bucks more, but the service is more than worth it. And I value that service mostly because I remember Walt Purdue and what he could do to get you just what you needed.

Perdue's Sport Shop

Never forget the first time I went to Perdue's Sport Shop. It was simply known as Perdue's when I was growing up in Ridgewood. I was all of seven years old and I drove there with my Dad and my entire life savings of ten cents. I believe my allowance at the time was five cents so this was a long anticipated day.

I was in Perdue's to purchase a red rubber ball, the kind you throw against a wall to practice your pitching or to play the game "Baseball Off the Wall."

On this particular Saturday I was assisted by Mr. Perdue. You would think that the man might have had better things to do than help a 2nd grader buy a ball but that was Mr. Perdue. He was filled with patience and saw immediately how much this meant to me.

My father had been there many times before and he recognized him well enough to give him a hearty hello. We were only there to make this one purchase though instinctively Mr. Perdue knew he had a new customer and that I might come back every year until I went to college to buy sporting goods from him. It wasn't a cold calculation on his part, only common sense. I handed over my ten cents to Mr. Perdue and I left the store the happiest kid in town. On this particular day I had been out, just me and my Dad on a beautiful Saturday morning in early Spring, and had been to Perdue's, where the nicest shopkeeper in town had personally made certain my simple purchase was completed with the utmost dignity.

Perdue's Sport Shop is now a parking lot. Though if you stare at it and squint your eyes you can see it, and the old wood paneled truck with the Perdue's name emblazoned on the side. Mr. Perdue had a commute to work that most men who lived in Ridgewood would have taken in a heartbeat. And he had a job I bet most men also admired. Not just because it involved selling all types of sporting goods, but because he did it with such aplomb and assurance of manner that people were drawn back as often as they could find a reason to shop there. Even if it only meant a ten cent rubber ball for your son.