People helping people. That’s what started it all. And of course being a bit hungry.
I remember the day quite well just not the month. April, May? The mind slips a bit as you get older but it was definitely mid morning. I know that for sure because that is the time when I generally realize I haven’t had breakfast yet.
I happened to be on “That side of town” that side of town being the side that I don’t live on when I’d been delivered from evil. My good eye catching BBQ in big tasty beautiful three foot tall letters, delivering me from the evil of the right eye which only saw salad and other tasteless hard crunchy things, having been trained that way by the wife and doctor. Always rely on your good eye.
“Hey good morning how are you?” The man said smiling from where he stood behind the counter.
“Good morning” I’d replied while getting a couple of Minute maids.
The market was empty except for the beer vendor who after taking inventory and on his way out said, “You didn’t sell any this week.”
“How can that be I’d asked the smiling little fellow, setting my juice on the counter. It’s hot out?”
“I don’t know” he said with a heavy shrug ringing up the first juice.
“You really don’t know?”
“No I’m sorry I don’t.”
And out of the blue I’d said,
“How about I make you some animated beer bottles that can dance and fly around and you can use that to advertise?”
“ No, no, he smiled, that’s okay” scanning the second juice”
“ But it would help you. No one else has any flying beer bottles” I’d prompted
“ Oh I wish, he’d chuckled but I don’t have the money” going on to learn that he was not profitable.
Not profitable I questioned?
That made absolutely no sense.
It was a nice market. Big, roomie, clean, lots of good stuff to eat. It even had a dishwasher and a fancy three compartment sink. How OCD perfect is that? So why was success not prominently displayed on the shelf?
And so we’d started talking about it from time to time when I’d stop in. I’m loyal if given a reason to be, pledging allegiance to all snack items,especially when they’re my particular brand and can all be found in the same spot.
And so I’d begun going out of my way in order to stop there. Call it cholesterol but I called it kindness. The kind of kindness that radiates, letting you know that something is good and keeps getting better the closer you draw to it.
That’s what had happened in this particular case. My previous habit of stopping in every few days turning into daily pilgrimages. Sometimes twice.
Abebe was the name that went with the kindness and the megawatt smile. This beautiful man who hailed from West Africa and always took the time to call out to me as soon as i entered. Making me feel like i mattered instead of my wallet. And I knew it wasn’t fake.
Over the course of many snacks, Tasty BBQ and quality chats Abebe and I determined that what was needed was exposure. The market had been open for a couple of years but hadn’t experienced the growth it should of.
Nestled within the Brooklyn neighborhood in Southeast Portland and bordered by the Willamette river, Abebe’s market called “ Natural Mart” was just a really nice place where someone could leisurely enjoy some great homemade food and beverages from tables either inside or outside without being bothered.
And I liked that. But even more so, the beautiful human being that went along with it.
It bothered me that such a nice man was worried about having to shut down his market someday, his dream, if he couldn’t turn it around.
I wanted to help and once again suggested using some advertising.
“ No no no I just can’t Abebe said shaking his head over and over. It's just too much money.”
“ OK how about this, I’ll pay for and do everything it takes to try and get your market turned around. And you only pay me back what was spent if you become profitable. And then we’ll use that money to help someone else. What do you think?” I’d asked.
I cant compose words for emotions never seen.
Merriman Pixel is honored to be a community partner with Abebe and the “Natural Mart” Gladstone.
Follow along and be part of the adventure.