A. Lane Used Furniture store had been in business since 1926, and operated by four generations of family members. I was the last proprietor.

The anchor of the store was Gene Fievish. Known as Lane, Gene was a Harrisburg institution, and the last vestige of the Eastern European Jewish merchants that once populated Market Street.

Most people never know his name was Eugene Allen Fievish. During his adult life he was referred to as: Gene, Gino,  Lane, “Moonie,” Mr. Lane, “Popcorn,” Unc, “that old man” or Uncle Gene.

Mr. Fievish co-founded the Lemoyne Sleeper Company and was beloved by the employees. He remained modest, and was never officially acknowledged for developing the concept of factory direct bedding.

Gene worked six days a week at “the store,” did not vacation, but closed the store for the Jewish High Holidays. He was a devout Philadelphia sports fan, and a loyal patron of the Colonnade and Nick’s 914, as well as local diners too numerous to name. He was a lifelong Philadelphia sports’ fan, and never got tired of telling the story of when Chuck Bedinarik almost killed Frank Gifford.

His main pursuit in life was purchasing furniture, selling furniture and attending auctions and estate sales.

A lot of people have paid tribute, shared memories and asked for a discount since my Uncle passed on October 31, 2015. Unlike my uncle, I actually spoke to people, and my responses never ended with Lancaster Brand tobacco juice bouncing off of the cement.

The era of the merchant, peddler, and small businessman in the patch of Market Street that stretched from the Patriot News to the Cameron Cut-rate, all died with Gene. Sadly, there has been no recent concerted effort – absent the New Baldwin Corridor Coalition – to save what was once one of Harrisburg’s major economic arteries.

There was a time when small businessmen and women populated and built lives for their families on Market Street: five & dimes, clothiers, grocery stores, jewelry stores, locksmiths, record shops, warehouses, used furniture stores,  and retail shops.

Big box stores, cultural atrophy and the suburbs gave us faceless prefabricated buildings framed with tax breaks, free parking and faceless owners.

The truth of the matter is the store was Uncle Gene’s life. He was the store, but Clyde Ferguson kept A. Lane’s running for the last 15 years.

We withstood the 1936, the 1972 and the 1977 floods as well as  a nuclear  meltdown.  In fact, employees came to work and delivered a kitchenette to Highspire on Saturday, March 31s, 1979 during the Three Mile Island core meltdown. And no, I did not participate in the delivery.

The store then fell prey to arson, and was eventually moved to Chestnut Street before moving back home to a “dead zone.”

We were no match for assimilation, the internet, compressed particle board, parking meters six days a week including  Saturdays, dim street lighting, unrepaired sinkholes, federal flood insurance, and most recently unannounced water and sewage “construction” which cut off access to the store, but provided decimal crushing noise and savory sewer vapors.

We contracted and subcontracted with artisans, carpenters, glass makers, piano men, radio repairers, theater directors, upholsterers, trash haulers , and folks on work release or in just need of money for bus fare or a meal.

The ten-mile, free delivery zone was a staple of the store for 90 years. We never accepted credit cards and always used rotary phones. Gene never negotiated. Unc told people “I ain’t running a charity” or “the price is the same price I would charge my rabbi.”

On 29, 2016 we will shut the doors for good and Kerry Pae Auctioneers will conduct an absolute auction. We will bury a culture, bury a store, bury a way of life and bury one of Harrisburg’s true icons. Gene’s passing and the store’s demise  marks the end of an era, and a 50 year strategy of never negotiating price but always delivering for free.