Touch the Throne

MISTER CAINBRIDGE WAS a West Indian merchant

who owned a small grocery store in Harlem. From

early morning to late evening he sat in front of his store next

to the vegetables, on a wooden milk crate with a faded pillow

on top that served as a cushion.

There, six days a week, beneath the heavy brown canvas

awning, cranked down over the store window, he sat,

representing an approachable throne of earthly grace, where

a familiar face was trusted to buy food on credit, and during

these depressive days of 1938, everybody needed a little extra

time to pay for food.