Makeshift market
Flooded town set to trade tent for store
Makeshift market: Flooded town set to trade tent for store
By Kevin O’Connor STAFF WRITER
LUDLOW – After Tropical Storm Irene flooded the only supermarket within a half-hour of this hungry ski town, the Shaw’s chain pitched its first tent-in-a-parking-lot store. The canvas commissary was a temporary fix, clerks reassured, until their waterlogged location could reopen in a few weeks. That was four months ago. Repairmen who had hoped simply to mop up 3 feet of water instead have been forced to remove and replace 13,000 square feet of damaged concrete flooring, conduits and cable. But that isn’t what shoppers will remember long after the supermarket finally returns Jan. 27.
What began last fall as a simple white canopy a quarter the size of the flooded store has ballooned, week by week, holiday by holiday, into a nearly 6,000-square-foot tent city stocked to satisfy both milk-chugging townspeople and Champagne-toasting tourists.
“Oh, my word, look how big it is!” one visitor recently exclaimed upon entering. “I’ve never shopped in a tent before!”
Store manager Darren Williams, a grocer for 32 years, has never worked in one, either. After the Black River overflowed into his supermarket Aug. 28, he wondered how long the town of 1,963 would lack a place to buy household basics.
Enter his bosses at the 150-year-old New England chain, who contracted with Randolph’s Rainor Shine Tent and Events Co. to raise a 3,200-square-foot canopy over a rubber floor in the parking lot.
Without space for a full inventory, the store whittled down its more than 20,000 items to the best-selling 700. Without electrical wiring, it plugged into backup generators and batteries that can power cash registers and payment-card machines but not space-age scales or scanners.
That’s why produce is sold by the piece rather than the pound (a yam is 69 cents no matter the size), and clerks raised on barcodes and laser beams have learned how to stick price tags on individual items, then push buttons on old-fashioned registers to – ka-ching! – calculate a total.
(“Shaw’s Country Store,” receipts say.)
Shoppers who arrived in September ate it up. But when contractors postponed the anticipated November reopening to January, the company realized its base camp would need to grow bigger to keep up with the calendar.
Already circled by a lockable chain-link fence, the makeshift market reinforced canvas walls with plywood so it could pump in heat. For Thanksgiving, it trucked in more refrigerators and freezers. For Christmas and New Year’s, it added a 2,400-square-foot tent for beer, wine and sparkling beverages.
For all its growth, the store has gaps. Space, safety and sanitary concerns prohibit an on-site butcher and baker, although meat and bread are delivered daily. Scan the four grocery aisles between the produce bins to the left and dairy cases to the right and you’ll find cat litter trays, condoms and Dial and Dove soap – but, alas, no Ivory-brand bars.
Perhaps they floated away with a small number of shoppers who, starved for more selection and specials, are driving an hour’s round trip to Shaw’s in Springfield. Most locals, however, are loyal.
“For them to open a tent within 10 days of Irene was unbelievable and brilliant,” says Marji Graf, head of the Okemo Valley Regional Chamber of Commerce. “They were able to serve the community and save their employees’ jobs. It’s a very honorable thing.”
(Especially since the morale lifter is a money loser due to the lofty costs of maintaining a big top built for weddings rather than winter.)
Shaw’s is planning to close the tent at 7 p.m. Jan. 16 after the long Martin Luther King Jr. holiday weekend so it can prepare to open its rebuilt store – itself expanded to 15,000 square feet – at 7 a.m. Jan. 27.
“It has been a once-in-a-lifetime challenge,” Williams said.
Or so he hopes. After Irene made national news, the town worried that tourists would retreat. Now it faces a different challenge – reminding visitors that the state is still recovering.
In a recent column, Connecticut ski writer Chris Dehnel relayed an out-of-towner’s reaction to the tent: “Wow, that must be some holiday turkey drive – how much food was collected?” A Vermonter set the record straight: “That is not for a special event – that IS the supermarket.”
kevin.oconnor@rutlandherald.com
Copyright, 2012, Rutland Herald
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