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How a family owned flea market is serving its financially strapped community

By Kelly Koopmans

EAST NEW YORK, BROOKLYN – Step through the narrow, wooden doorframe at Louise’s Furniture and Flea Market, and you enter what would be the product of Bed Bath & Beyond meeting your neighborhood hoarder’s garage. 

The drywall ceiling, walls, and linoleum floor resemble a collage – completely overlaid by a hodgepodge of stuff.  Fifty-four-year-old Louise Brown’s diverse collection of merchandise is suffocating.

Jeans, tee shirts and sweatshirts pile chest high on the rectangular center table.  Duffle bags and suitcases dangle from ceiling hooks.  A multitude of shelves brimming with glassware and VHS tapes flank the walls.  The scene would drive a claustrophobe mad.

But however chaotic it may appear, this 40-year, family owned thrift shop operates by a clear purpose in low-income East New York: collect an eclectic array of merchandise from abandoned storage lots and sell it at reasonable prices.

“We get stuff from storage and unclaimed lots,” said Brown.  “We got TVs, toasters, shoes, wedding dresses, you name it.  I got people going to Haiti, Santa Domingo, and Africa bringing me stuff. We got it all.”

Brown slices open a large cardboard moving box marked August 15, #132. It is one of over 150 mini-fridge-sized boxes she buys from storage facilities every other day.  The shipment’s other 149 unopened boxes are stacked like Legos, grazing the ceiling.  She thumbs through the box’s contents: personal files, a child’s doodles, a report card.

“I never know what I’m going to get. We have a lot of memories that come through here,” said Brown.  “In the 28 years since I inherited this business from my father, the shop remains a major part of those memories.  So, we have a responsibility.”

The myriad of floral dish sets and vinyl records bear price tags reflective of the flea market’s mission: two dollars for a dish, three for a record.

Brown said in tough economic times such as these, the suffering neighborhood families need shopping they can afford.  With 27 percent of East New Yorkers making less than 15 thousand dollars annually, Brown said her flea market has become increasingly important.  Earlier this year she opened a box filled with school uniforms, she said.  Each set sold for one dollar. 

“Shorty” Caban echoed Brown. As a mother of two and life long East New York resident, Caban says Louise’s shop benefits families similar to her own and has a recipe for long-term success.

“Hell, yeah!” she said in response to whether the thrift shop can survive the recession.  “Listen, I own these four corners here and I can tell you this shop is different.  I have a son who bought jeans for $150 [in Manhattan].  Here, jeans for ten bucks.”

Caban said she has known the Louise’s family for several years.  It was Louise’s father, Charles Williams, who started this business in 1969 by bringing abandoned furniture in off the street, cleaning it, and selling it, she said.  The flea market gradually expanded from its original location on Pitkin Avenue to additional locations on Rockaway Avenue and here on Liberty Avenue. 

“I have a 30-year-old and a 7-year-old,” said Caban.  “They both grew up in this shop.”

As patrons handle the vinyl records, Marilyn Monroe cutouts, and bible hymnals, a musky scent reminiscent of a grandmother’s high school yearbook is released. But the vivacious and youthful 10-year-old girl aiding customers contrasts this aroma.

Tanira Williams is Louise Brown’s niece.  Dubbed by family members as the third generation destined to run the thrift shop, she spends much of her time in the shop when school is out. 

Tanira said her favorite subject in school is math.  As she approaches an antique Victorian cabinet replete with periwinkle, plum, and emerald colored vases. It is obvious where she gets practice for math class.

“The glass [vases] are my favorite.  When people want to buy one, I know it is five dollars. When they want two, it is ten dollars. It goes on,” said Tanira.

Like the generations preceding her, Tanira may continue the generational dedication to this little world of wonders.  Her smile beams radiantly as just speaking about one day running the shop like “Aunt Louise.” 

“Someday, I will work here,” she said.  Her eyes expose striking maturity.  “I just want to help.”