Publix: It Was Never Just a Supermarket

Our Publix is closing for 12 to 15 months for a complete renovation, and I am genuinely sad about it.

That reaction surprised me. After all, it is just a supermarket.

Except it isn’t.

The building is more than 30 years old and, truthfully, it needs updating. The prices were okay. The food was good. But none of those things are what made the place special.

It was the people.

If you are of a certain age, you probably remember Cheers. Whenever George Wendt’s character walked through the door, everyone shouted, “NORM!”

My wife and I never got the full “NORM!” treatment (close to it though) when we walked into Publix, but there was something wonderfully familiar about the place. People knew you. They recognized you. They smiled. They asked how you were doing and actually waited long enough to hear the answer.

In its own small way, that store was a model of how I wish more of the world worked.

There were people working there from Puerto Rico, Jamaica, Russia, Guyana and, perhaps the most exotic place of all, some who were actually born in Florida.

Nobody cared.

Nobody asked who you voted for, what religion you practiced, what side you were on or which label you carried.

You looked someone in the eyes.

You smiled.

You talked.

You laughed.

You treated each other like human beings.

Labels be damned.

And it wasn’t just the employees. It was walking down an aisle and unexpectedly running into a neighbor. A five-minute shopping trip could become a fifteen-minute conversation. You caught up. You shared a story. You exchanged a smile. For a few moments, life slowed down.

I will miss that.

There is something else I will miss too.

An old Aikido teacher of mine sometimes shopped there. There were things between us that belonged to another time, and whenever I saw him, I thought about walking over and talking to him. Making amends. Closing an old chapter properly.

I never found the courage to do it.

Now that opportunity may be gone.

Perhaps that is another lesson hidden inside something as ordinary as a supermarket closing: Do not assume you will get another chance.

Say hello.

Have the conversation.

Make amends.

Look people in the eyes.

Put the labels aside.

Because some memories are difficult, but they make us stronger. Some places are ordinary, but somehow become part of our lives.

Yes, I know.

It is just a supermarket.

Except things are rarely just what they appear to be.