Old Strip Center At Mandell St. & Richmond Ave.

[Libbie]

Anyone remember what used to be behind the recently defunct (Sigh!) Lucky Burger, on Richmond at Mandell? In the fifties there was a small strip center with a drugstore whose soda fountain sold 3-scoop cones for 15 cents, a variety store, and a little restaurant, owned by an oldish immigrant couple with a name like Goldberg or Goldstein--all right next to each other. My father used to order roast beef at the restaurant.  He would also ask for Worcestershire Sauce, and Mr. Goldstein (who was owner, manager, waiter, cook, and busboy) would bring it to him but say indignantly, "Why do you cover up the flavor of my delicious roast beef with that sauce! And it's bad for you! That sauce takes all the water out of your body!" Mr. Goldstein was, in his small way, a culinary artist, and, as such, temperamental.

 

In an adjacent little strip of buildings that are still there, there were a barber shop (Jesse's Barber Shop, I think, and Jesse was assisted by another barber named Shortie.  In the seventies, Jesse moved a few miles west, still on Richmond).  Either in the same building or right next door was Prim's Beauty Shop.

 

Various places--mostly eating places--have come and gone at the location:  Lucky Burger, Munchie's, etc., etc., but whenever I pass by there, I lament the recent loss of Lucky Burger and the long-ago loss of Jesse and Shortie's, Prim's, Mr. & Mrs. Golstein's restaurant, the variety store where at age eight I paid a dollar for an imitation diamond ring ring that could have fooled Tiffany's, the drugstore with nickle (one-scoop) cones, and everything that went along with those departed places and the epoch that departed with them.  Does anyone else remember that old strip center?

[Libbie]

Does anyone remember what used to be behind the recently defunct (Sigh!) Lucky Burger, on Richmond at Mandell? In the fifties there was a small strip center with a drugstore whose soda fountain sold 3-scoop cones for 15 cents, a variety store, and a little restaurant, owned by an oldish immigrant couple with a name like Goldberg or Goldstein--all right next to each other. My father used to order roast beef at the restaurant.  He would also ask for Worcestershire Sauce, and Mr. Goldstein (who was owner, manager, waiter, cook, and busboy) would bring it to him but say indignantly, "Why do you cover up the flavor of my delicious roast beef with that sauce! And it's bad for you! That sauce takes all the water out of your body!" Mr. Goldstein was, in his small way, a culinary artist, and, as such, temperamental.

 

In an adjacent little strip of buildings that are still there, there were a barber shop (Jesse's Barber Shop, I think, and Jesse was assisted by another barber named Shortie.  In the seventies, Jesse moved a few miles west, still on Richmond).  Either in the same building or right next door was Prim's Beauty Shop.

 

Various places--mostly eating places--have come and gone at the location:  Lucky Burger, Munchie's, etc., etc., but whenever I pass by there, I lament the recent loss of Lucky Burger and the long-ago loss of Jesse and Shortie's, Prim's, Mr. & Mrs. Golstein's restaurant, the variety store where at age eight I paid a dollar for an imitation diamond ring ring that could have fooled Tiffany's, the drugstore with nickle (one-scoop) cones, and everything that went along with those departed places and the epoch that departed with them.  Does anyone else remember that old strip center?

[57Tbird]

I remember it well.  You mention the barbershop with Shortie and Jesse.  Jesse moved from that location in the early 60's, as I remember, to his new location farther west on Richmond near Weslayan.  Then that area started being taken over by the Greenway Plaza development in the late 60's, and I think he retired about that time. I went to Jesse for my haircuts from about 1950 to the mid-60's.  His name was J. C. Cardwell.  I guess the name, Jesse, evolved from his initials.

 

Also at that intersection, on the northeast corner, was a little diner by the name of Phil's.  I went there for lunch many times in my youth.  I have never had another chicken-fried steak as good as the ones I got there.

[Michelle C]

I too remember the strip center and the drug store. I also remember a good looking guy that either worked in the strip center or lived directly behind it named Les. He owned a red and white 57 Ford. Les was several years older than me and I thought he was the coolest guy in the neighborhood. 57 Bird, who could ever forget Phil's, not only the best chicken fried steaks in town but also the best burgers around. I also remember the old carpet cleaning place across the street from Phil's. Next door to the carpet place was a model A pick up. It sat there for years, I always wanted that ole Ford.

[Libbie]

I remember it well.  You mention the barbershop with Shortie and Jesse.  Jesse moved from that location in the early 60's, as I remember, to his new location farther west on Richmond near Weslayan.  Then that area started being taken over by the Greenway Plaza development in the late 60's, and I think he retired about that time. I went to Jesse for my haircuts from about 1950 to the mid-60's.  His name was J. C. Cardwell.  I guess the name, Jesse, evolved from his initials.

 

Also at that intersection, on the northeast corner, was a little diner by the name of Phil's.  I went there for lunch many times in my youth.  I have never had another chicken-fried steak as good as the ones I got there.

 

J.C. Cardwell = Jesse--interesting!  He was still cutting hair not too far from there as recently as 1988 (well, 26 years ago SEEMS recent).  My father, one of his customers, told him my husband was looking for a teaching job; Jesse told another customer--an H.I.S.D. assistent superintendent--about him; at my father's next hair-cutting session, Jesse gave Dad the gentleman's card to give to my husband; he went for an interview, and months upon months of runarounds were at an end:  he got the teaching job from which he just recently retired. Barber shop as employment agency.  Thank you, Jesse.

 

[FilioScotia]

***little restaurant, owned by an oldish immigrant couple with a name like Goldberg or Goldstein***

 

Libbie I am almost certain that little place you're talking about was turned from a restaurant into a small avant garde cabaret theater named The Hamlet sometime in 1961. It was owned and managed by an immigrant couple named Bobkoff.

 

Their two sons were Ned and Mickey Bobkoff, and both were actors. Ned staged, directed while brother Mickey acted in many of the "strange" plays the theater featured. The Hamlet closed in 1964 because, let's face it, Houston has never had a big audience for far-out avant garde plays.

[57Tbird]

J.C. Cardwell = Jesse--interesting!  He was still cutting hair not too far from there as recently as 1988 (well, 26 years ago SEEMS recent).

 

 

Jesse came to my wedding, so I looked back at the wedding book and saw he signed his, and her, name... Mr & Mrs J. C. Cardwell.

Thinking back, I guess I was a bit premature in thinking he might have retired in the late 60's.  I guess, when you're in your teens, someone who's in his 30's seems old, and in your 20's, someone who's in his 40's looks "old".

I did some research and found a Jesse C. Cardwell, who was born in 1917 and died in 1994. That would have have him at 33 in 1950.  Wonder if that's our Jesse?

 

[Libbie]

Jesse came to my wedding, so I looked back at the wedding book and saw he signed his, and her, name... Mr & Mrs J. C. Cardwell.

Thinking back, I guess I was a bit premature in thinking he might have retired in the late 60's.  I guess, when you're in your teens, someone who's in his 30's seems old, and in your 20's, someone who's in his 40's looks "old".

I did some research and found a Jesse C. Cardwell, who was born in 1917 and died in 1994. That would have have him at 33 in 1950.  Wonder if that's our Jesse?

 

 

Could be. The dates make sense.

 

[Libbie]

Ah! And I think there was also a Taxidermist and Tanners shop that opened up in the same Richmond-at-Mandell strip center, in the very early sixties.