Photo Courtesy Geoff Ault
The Hill is Home asked Frager’s Hardware employees — otherwise known as the “Frager’s family” — to reflect on their time at the shop. The following is a guest post from Jessica VonDyke, who worked in the paint department.
Working at Frager’s Hardware does not suck.
I grew up in the area, but I didn’t meet Frager’s until I moved to the Hill. In 2006, I bought my house and, naturally, fell in love with the hardware store.
Howie and William walked me through my bathroom renovation step-by-step. Chris always knew exactly what piece I needed to replace my centuries old junction boxes. But those are the stories that you all know and share. In 2009, I joined the Frager’s family as a paint store employee and spent three and a half years growing up, learning and building community there.
Where do you even begin to talk about what it was like to spend 40 hours a week in a place like Frager’s. To know all of the stories that you are remembering right now but from the other side of the counter. To know, still, exactly where that caution tape, colander, Magic Eraser, weather stripping and faux finishing sponge was located: aisle 13, aisle 6, front counter, aisle 4 and the paint store. To stand with your family and watch your home burn down.
In my time at Frager’s, I walked more people through their various projects than I can count. I loved it most when folks would come in with wood working and refinishing questions. As a kid I would watch my grandfather in his wood shop, and when I grew up, I got to help him more and more. Then, there were the manly men, who I just loved, walking through a concrete or roofing project because they really weren’t sure before I started talking that they could trust the ‘girl in the skirt who’s good with color’. There’s the frazzled couple that spent weeks looking at colors and are about to kill each other. Sitting down with them was my specialty, listening to their tastes and finding common ground so that they can settle on a sample (or twelve!!). And then, there’s the “I’ve been shopping at Frazier’s for longer than you’ve been alive!” customers. Yes, I said Frazier’s. We got Frazier’s, Fraager’s, Froger’s and more. The thing is they have been shopping here for so long and always wanted to tell me what it was like. Really, it was a great history lesson about the store, DC or the Hill, not always well timed but, but everyone liked to tell their story.
Customer service is nothing without the customers but Frager’s is nothing without the team of staff. When I finally earned my Frankie-given-nickname, I knew I had arrived. Many folks at Frager’s have at least two names — the name on their driver’s license and their Frager’s nickname. Air Force, Sweet Pea, Yeti, Matlock, Blizzard, Doc, Cojack, Driver, Gray Squirrel, Deacon … I got Baby Blue from Frankie because, for a summer, I wore baby blue patent leather clogs. Sometimes these names meant something, but generally they were a moment, immortalized like an inside joke. New staff would always get confused: “Wait I thought his name was Marlon?” “It is.” “Well, then who’s Cojack?” Once you got the names down, there was the inventory — allllll the inventory — in all the nooks and crannies. Sometimes I would just wander around the main store and look at everything. Take it all in. Rifle around under the stairs in the basement, get a sore neck looking at the tops of all the shelves or poke my head into the attic just to make sure I didn’t miss anything, and I still found more stuff. The drawback to these little explorations was that I found more stuff than I needed. I would end up back at the paint store with an arm load of products at checkout. But, I knew every inch of that store. After the fire, I looked at pictures, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t tell where the photo was taken.
I wouldn’t have traded life in the paint store for anything in the world mainly because of “my guys.” I say “my guys” because for the vast majority of my time there, I was the only woman in the paint store. Maybe because I was the only option, I was flirted with endlessly. I was proposed to twice and just unabashedly hit on more times than I care to count. But, my boys were always there to defend my honor. The guys loved me. I spent more time with them than I did with my wife, and certainly talked to them more than I talked to anyone else. They knew more about me (probably more than they wanted to know) than many of my friends.
We fought, we disagreed on things and we sometimes wouldn’t speak to each other for days, but we always came back and found common ground. More than anything we supported each other. When Geoff wanted to take an art class, no question someone would switch shifts with him so he could. When I decided to start my own business, the whole team pulled together and made it possible for me to take time off or move the schedule around, so I had the flexibility that I needed. That’s what family does.
When I saw the smoke, I knew. I called and called but no one answered. My heart started racing and my body started to shake, and all I could do was say: I have to see them I have to know they’re okay. I ran up the street. When I found some of the staff, I put one arm through Koba’s arm and the other around Geoff. I stood there watching the fire without words but knowing that we were glad to be together in that moment.
It’s a funny thing, grieving this fire. You can’t say, “I’ve had a death in the family,” which people will understand. And, saying ‘The place I used to work burned down” is about a million miles away from the impact that I feel. I’ll never get to go back and lean on the counter and talk politics with Zain and Koba, listen to Juan sing or walk into Jessica’s office with a “Hi Jessica” and get “Hi Jessica” in return. It was the everyday trip to Frager’s that I will miss. I left my job there about a month ago to get my own business moving, and since I left, I’ve been holding on to my visits like a security blanket. I would just stop in and wander around say hello to people and breathe in the oh-so-familiar smells of the hardware store.
We’ve lost more than a building and more than a place to work, we’ve lost our place to meet. To fight like family, to eat crabs on an August night in the outdoor garden, to pass in the aisle, never thinking that it would be the last time you get to do that.
I could fill a book with my experiences working at Frager’s, so could the endless number of folks that filtered through there over the years. I want to tell you all my stories of how much I learned and was held and supported by Frager’s. I will miss that place and all of the friends that I made along the way. Thank you all for helping me become a better person. I love you.