This fine bike shop was located 50 feet from the front door of my current shop, CRUM Cycles. Fred Philpot ran the operation. Being a no nonsense Maine Yankee, he did not waste time anquishing over the name of his store. It is simply "Philpot's Store". This man was on the cutting edge of what was hot and what was not in the year 1900. A merchant extraodinaire.
My shop is in the building to the right and at the rear. Philpot's is no longer there. A common, small grassy area, a place for trees to grow exists in it's place. And has since his store burned down in the great Springvale Fire a couple of years after this picture was snapped. Have no worry for old Fred Philpot though. He had his fingers in many local pies. The store burning down was but a minor setback for Fred.
I love this picture for many reasons. It connects me and what I do to the long history of my area. I am part of a great American tradition. Several of them actually. Keeping the local cyclists, families, and occaisional gnarly dudes happy with product and service. Keeping the idea of entrepeneurship alive and well at it's root level. And last, I continue the legacy of being a pillar of my community. Albeit a small pillar. That's what my wife contends anyway.
Which brings up a new question. Just how would she know?