The Basement of 3571 Harrison Avenue (2006.12.15)

Today, once again I write to remember. Or rather, I write because I do remember…these are the things I think about this time of year. The last time I did this (about Ranzaganza…click on the “Previous Posts” link on the left that says “A Tribute To A Long Standing Tradition”) I really enjoyed it, so here I am again.

Of course this time of year brings back lots of memories for everyone…Christmases past spent with family and friends, a special gift you received from Santa, that one time it snowed like crazy and you went sledding after opening presents Christmas morning…whatever it may be I think we always find ourselves reminiscing this time of year. For me, I often tend to think back to all the years I spent the pre-Christmas weeks working at Fawn Candy up the street from my house.

The Fawn is a small family-owned business that’s been around for about 60 years now. It’s owned and run by the Guenther sisters, Kathy, Jackie, Jane and Jean. The business was started by their father, Pep, back in the day. He started off selling ice cream and a few other sweets but over the years got out of the ice cream business and into the all-kinds-of-other-sweets business. Jean is my aunt by marriage and that’s how I got the job hook up. I started out when I was in 7th grade on the bottom rung of the candy ladder working out in the garage bagging up bulk candy for the Easter season. They would get huge bulk boxes of jelly beans, foil eggs, malted milk balls, and all those other goodies you get in your Easter basket, and it was our job to weigh them out and put them into little “Fawn Candy” bags to be sold in the store or for fundraisers for churches or girl scout troops or what have you. We got paid by each individual bag we did, so it was to our advantage to work as fast as we could. It was a pretty fun job…we could bring in cds and listen to whatever we wanted to out in the garage, and it was nice because I could just walk there after school got out at Bridgetown. After about 3 or so springs spent bagging stuff in the garage the upper management thought it prudent to move me inside to the basement, where the real magic happens. This was a pretty big jump in the Fawn Candy world…most of the garage boys didn’t stick around long enough to be promoted into the basement. Most were just neighborhood friends of the sister’s kids or kids of their friends, or as was my case, relatives. So I was pretty pumped when I went down to ask Jean what I was going to bag that day and she said “actually we’re going to have you work in the basement from now on.” Sweet! Literally.

I will now take some time to talk about Chris Gaines. I imagine it must have been the year before when Chris, another garage employee of high aptitude, got moved into the basement as well. Since we both went to Oak Hills and he could drive, he’d take me to work after school with him. I didn’t know Chris that well…we had played tee-ball together when we were really little and I knew his brother pretty well because he was in my grade but Chris was a year ahead of me and when you’re in junior high, the difference between an 8th grader and a 9th grader was HUGE. But I knew him well enough that he was a nice guy and I looked forward to getting to know him because he seemed like a cool dude. My first real memories of Chris are of his van. Those of you who are familiar with the van are all laughing now, remembering what a piece of junk it was. It was this huge chevy conversion van, big enough to fit about 30 people, but usually it was just Chris and me. His dad had bought it from some guys who took it fishing all the time, so there were these little hooks inside you’d usually see inside a fishing boat or in a garage that were use to put fishing rods up on the inside walls of the van. The heat didn’t work in the van either, so Chris had a big piece of cardboard on the front of the radiator to make sure the engine got nice and hot on cold days but it was still freezing inside. The funniest part of the van was the sound “system.” Probably even moreso than me, Chris liked his music. And he went to great lengths to see to it that it was nice and loud in the van. Speaker wires were running all over the van, connected to box speakers he had gotten from garage sales or whatever, one of them I think he even made with plywood. He had an amplifier though, and it sounded pretty good. But he only had a cassette deck, so he used his portable discman with a tape adapter…which would constantly run out of batteries. He used the rechargeable kind, so whenever it died, it was usually my job to take the batteries out and put them in the “needs to be recharged” Ziploc baggie and pull some new ones out of the “charged” Ziploc baggie. I remember pulling into the candy store parking lot with Prodigy blasting and the two of us hopping out, usually being scolded for scaring away customers with the loud music. And Chris always backed into his parking spots. I really don’t know why, it was just a habit of his…no matter where he went, he always backed in. The van was great though, and would serve us well a couple years later when we went trash picking. Lots of good times in that beat up ‘ol Chevy.

Chris was the kind of guy who didn’t give a crap about what people thought about him. He just did what he thought was cool or fun and just rolled with whatever came at him. He certainly ruffled some feathers along his way, always pushing the envelope with whatever he could. And that’s what I liked about him so much. He was always straight with you and just did what felt right to him. Looking back, he was probably one of the very first people that planted that seed in myself…the revolutionary “damn-the-man” seed…I could see in him that we didn’t have to be like everyone else was…that being different wasn’t a bad thing, that it was actually better to be different. Right now it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal but having those realizations when you’re 15 or 16 was a big deal. Chris was larger than life…right down to his fro of a haircut. He was always smiling and joking…he had one of those magnetic personalities that just made everyone want to be around him. He was one of the most popular kids at school, he even won homecoming king his senior year. Chris and I got to be fast friends spending so much time together at the Fawn. We were always joking around with everyone there, having fun with the work, regardless of how monotonous it could get sometimes. Chris could make a good time out of getting an ingrown toenail removed…he was just that kind of person. We had competitions to see who could roll the most chocolates or wrap the most carmellows or whatever our task was on any given day. One of our favorite jobs was taking out the trash on Wednesday nights. To any normal person, taking out the trash usually is a chore, much less enjoyable. But for some reason we always had a good time with it…slipping and sliding on the iced walkway, running around the store emptying all the trash cans as fast as we could. I’m pretty sure most of the other people there (especially the new part time people who didn’t know us or our antics yet) thought we were pretty crazy…but we didn’t care, we had fun working and that’s all you can really ask for if you ask me. We were also responsible for scrubbing down the kitchen floor a few times each holiday season…moving out all the equipment and bags of ingredients, scraping all the spilled caramel or smashed jellybeans and mopping. Like I said, something like that doesn’t sound like fun at all, but everything was fun with Chris. One year after Christmas, we got charged with painting the kitchen from top to bottom. First we had to scrub down all the grime on the walls and floor, then let it dry, and then paint around all the ducts and lights and everything. Between the cleaning solution fumes and paint fumes, we were pretty zonked by the end of the ordeal…I can remember finding some really old pizza in the fridge and eating it and thinking it tasted amazing. Then there was the night we returned to the garage to make some serious money. I think there was a shortage of garage people that year and they needed to catch up on some stuff, so Chris came up with this loco idea that we should spend the night staying up all night bagging stuff. Chris was all about efficiency and always came up with a “system” to do the task at hand. Both having been garage people before, we put our heads together and figured out the fastest way to bag stuff so we could pull in the most money. We had a case of Mountain Dew (sounds so good right now) on hand to keep us going and we took a late night run to White Castle around 3am when we started to hit the wall. We ran around outside in the cold and horsed around in the parking lot to stay awake. We ended up working from like 8 or 9pm to 7 or 8am. When Jane got there around 9 for the Sunday shift, she found us cashed out with our heads down on the table. We slept for an hour from 8 until 9 and then went into the basement and put in about 4 hours making chocolates. I think we ended up pulling in 200 bucks each for the night’s work though. We always played practical jokes on whoever was working, and I think the only reason they didn’t fire us was because we always got a lot of work done and kept things lively…and maybe because Jeanie is my aunt, but whatever. Like everything else in life, the people at the candy store really made it so amazing, and Chris was a big part of that. I’ve only seen Chris a handful of times since college started…we haven’t managed to keep in touch as well as we should, but each time we meet up for wings or the Christmas tree bonfire, it’s just like old times. Hopefully we’ll be able to keep in touch better once I get back. Regardless, we’ve always got the countless memories from the Fawn, and that’s something I’ll never forget.

Ok, enough about Chris. Everyone at the Fawn was really great. Those of us who worked in the basement did most of the dirty work, mixing up cream centers, rolling them out onto wax paper and running them through the dipping machine. We wore jeans, t-shirts and white smocks and listened to good music (and Pep’s Paul Harvey…every day at noon…no matter if my favorite song was playing on WEBN, when noon came it was time for Paul Harvey). Pep (the girls’ dad who started the business and turned it over to them) worked downstairs with us too, always coming down (he lived in the apartment above the store) for a few hours to make coconut goodies, which were these tiny little pieces made up of toasted coconut and milk chocolate…sooooo good. He always had a good story or joke to tell and really did enjoy working when he wasn’t playing golf.

Mainly because of Chris, we started developing a “basement pride” and would always give the “upstairs people” a hard time and tell them to get back up where they belonged. I think we frightened a few of the new girls a couple of times, but once they realized that no one else really paid attention to what we said, they would just give it right back to us. The upstairs people made displays and packaged trays and boxes so they looked nice and pretty with bows and all that. Plus they had to look nice because they dealt with the customers. Whenever we’d go upstairs to take them something or help unload the UPS truck, we always looked out of place with our chocolate filled smocks and flour all over our faces. We usually got a few funny looks from the customers, but we didn’t care. Plus I’d always nab a gummy worm or two, so it was worth it.

The older of the four sisters, Kathy and Jackie, ran the store upstairs. They would take orders, package stuff up, organize all the finance stuff, attend to the customers and keep all the little upstairs worker girls busy. Their daughters helped too and these days Kathy’s oldest daughter Tricia does most of the finance stuff (I think). Along with us in the basement (“the factory”) were the younger of the 4 sisters, Jean and Jane. They would usually be cooking stuff in the kitchen from scratch, and the rest of us would roll it out, run it through the dipping machine and package it up in bulk. They ran a tight ship and we always managed to get a lot of work done…despite Chris and me acting like fools. I don’t think they understood why Chris and I liked working so much, but we really did. One story in particular…there was a back closet downstairs where we kept all the empty boxes. But also located in the closet was the air compressor for the chocolate pump for a few of the machines, which we would flip on with a little switch when we needed to use those machines. The compressor is super loud, especially in the confined little area of the closet. Well poor little Aimee from upstairs came down to put some boxes back in the closet and while she was back there I signaled Chris to flip the compressor on…scaring the life out of her. After she screamed and knocked down most of the stacks of boxes in the closet, Chris and I were rolling on the floor laughing. It was at this point when Jane, who had been watching the whole time, looked at us and said in 100% seriousness “You two are imbeciles,” which made Chris and I laugh even more and slap a high five, as if being called an imbecile by Jane was the highest level of coolness. For the next few days we referred to each other with nothing but the word “imbecile,” which I think proved Jane right.

Also down in the basement were Nancy and Melissa. Nancy had been working there a while when I got moved into the basement, and she brought her sister Melissa on board the second year I was there. They were both in their 30s and had husbands and kids and all that, so they offset the two of us crazy teenagers acting like fools all the time. We all got to be good friends and worked together well. Chris and I would always groan when they turned on their soap operas in the afternoon and they were also beneficiaries of Chris and I giving them crap for stupid things…whether it be the way Nancy said “Italian” or how Melissa sent her kids to Catholic schools because they were “better.” I think we were borderline mean a few times, but it was truly all in jest and if we ever hurt any feeling we apologized. I still keep in touch with Melissa and her family (catholic school kids and all)…they are good friends. She even sent me a huge package down here filled with stuff she knows I like, for example Pepperidge Farm goldfish and a Dark Side of the Moon Poster. (sidenote: a few weeks later I received another DSOTM poster from Ben Coleman…I now have two up in my room and my host family can’t figure out what on earth they are…perhaps they think I worship some crazy color prism-oritented gringo god…oh well.) I also credit Melissa with turning me on to Led Zeppelin, who I had obviously heard of before but never really taken the time to listen to. Melissa let me borrow Led Zeppelin IV and my life was changed. So for that I will forever be in her debt. I sort of paid her back by introducing her to Counting Crows, but I’d say Zeppelin is more important. We’d always play both down in the basement, and Chris put up with it even though he liked rap music most. But Grandpa Pep never put up with rap, so we only listened to that when we mopped the floor when no one was around. Jeanie liked bluegrass and I think Jane’s favorite was Heart…so it was a good mix of music to make chocolate to.

There were always new employees coming and going…sticking around for a week or two during the big rush right before Christmas or Easter…notables included these two older women named Rik & Barbara, who were twins and both hilarious…they worked upstairs and always brought in their little grandkids who came to visit for the holidays. My cousin Sarah spent a few Christmases there, my sister even put on a white smock for a few weeks to help fund that liberal arts education of hers. Jeanie’s neighbor Andrea helped out some too, Chris brought his brother in, and Nancy and Melissa started bringing in their daughters once they were sure Chris and I with our public school educations wouldn’t be a bad influence on them. And there were always grandkids helping out whenever they could (or needed a few extra bucks). People were always coming and going, working a few weeks here and there…it was always hopping.

And now a bit about the work. Like I said, Jane and Jean would cook up big batches of stuff…usually just the right combination of sugar, corn syrup, evaporated milk, butter and then some flavoring cooked just to the precise right temperature. It was then dumped into the big mixing machine and allowed to set for a few minutes. Then the mixer got flipped on and sort of whipped it into the right texture. Then either Chris or I would take it out of the mixer and pile it up on the table to be rolled out. We would throw a little flour on our hands and on the table to keep it from sticking…roll out little “worms” of it, and cut the worms into pieces. Then the pieces would be rolled into nice little balls all by hand, and they were then ready for the dipping machine. The dipping machine is basically a long conveyor belt that we put the centers on to get covered in chocolate. It takes three people to run it, one person loading the centers onto the bottomer, which puts a layer of chocolate on the bottom before it goes onto a short conveyor belt to dry. The chocolates then pass through a “curtain” of chocolate falling from above and get completely covered and move onto a second, longer conveyor belt with a big cooling tunnel. The second person is the “marker” and they make sure the chocolates don’t stick together after they pass through the curtain as well as put on the distinguishing mark on the piece while the chocolate is still soft. Since so many of the pieces are just round, this is necessary to identify them. Opera fudge gets chocolate sprinkles, French Cream gets green drizzle, turtles get a squiggle, caramels get a line from corner to corner, etc. I started out being a loader but by the end of my time there I was usually marking. The chocolates then pass through the long cooling tunnel and are taken off by the third person at the end of the belt…usually Chris or Melissa. It was important to make sure the chocolate was at the right temperature so that when it cooled it didn’t produce those funky white marks but it was also important that they didn’t go through the tunnel too fast or they would end up being still wet at the end. The machine definitely had its nuances that you had to get used to. Aside from just cream centers, we made caramel from scratch to dip, we dipped pretzels as well as other stuff. One cool process was making pecan-caramel clusters, or “turtles.” We would spread out pecans all across the table…in a layer thick enough so that you couldn’t see through to the table. Then when the caramel was still hot, Jane or Jean would come by with this little funnel filled with caramel and a stick to plug up the hole, letting out a tiny bit at a time to make little circles of caramel. Once the caramel dried we would take the clusters off the table, picking off any really big pecans and getting them ready for the dipping machine. After that they went through the machine like everything else. These things are so good though. They were good to eat without chocolate on them even. Oh man, my mouth is watering.

One thing that was always a pain in the butt to make were chocolate covered cherries. Because they were so liquidy, they had to go through the dipping machine twice and since they were so round they would always roll off the stupid wire belt and just make a huge mess. Loading cherries grew to be the bane of my existence while at the Fawn, and I was happy when they moved me to the marking position and all I had to do was put a little circle on them. So if you ever wonder why the chocolate covered cherries are more expensive at the Fawn, it’s cause they are a pain to make. Oh man, but they are good.

We also made fudge from scratch and these cool things called carmellows, which are marshmallows dipped in caramel. I tried to eat a whole one once (probably on a bet from Chris) and couldn’t talk for about 15 minutes…it’s better if you take them a bite at a time. We have all kinds of molds to make different things out of chocolate…from every kind of animal you can think of to little chocolate tools and even chocolate caskets. Yeah that’s right, coffins. Kind of morbid but when you’re in the business of selling caskets, it’s a fun novelty to have in your office. Pep even bought the recipe a long time ago to this special kind of taffy called Suzanne’s Creams, which were always a process to make. They get cooked to the right temperature like everything else, but then get poured onto a special marble slab (marble because it allows them to cool properly) and after a certain amount of time the caramel-like blobs are brought downstairs and put on a big taffy puller, where we add vanilla and they turn from a brown caramel like consistency into a white taffy like stuff. Strips of the taffy are cut while it’s pulling the stuff and they strips are run through this crazy little contraption that cuts them into these funky little shapes. We always made these last at night because they had to sit on the table overnight to cool properly. If you eat them right out of the cutter, they are chewy and warm and really good. But if you wait until morning, they had turned into this dry consistency that melts deliciously when you put it in your mouth. Suzanne’s creams aren’t really available everywhere and it was one of the Fawn’s specialties (and another one of my favorites…it really isn’t a wonder I’m not a little chunkier).

The thing about the Fawn was that whether you were related or not, you were family. It was a family-owned and family-run business, but the idea of family stretched a lot further than that. There were always kids running around, which was cool because they were either your nephew or niece or son or daughter or cousin. The sisters would juggle their work and their kids (and now, grandkids) and their leisure masterfully. We would watch little baby Guenther while Jane went to work out next door…Alex and Savannah were always in their playpen next to the rolling table while Jeanie went to play tennis…and these days Kathy’s grandkids are the newest additions to the candy family. And in a way, we all helped raise them. We held them when they cried, Chris and I ran around and acted silly with them (because we were, after all, imbeciles) and Melissa even babysat them sometimes. It worked like a real family. Right down to the occasional sisterly disagreement. Normally it would happen like this. Jackie would come down asking Jeanie if some order for, oh I don’t know, a solid chocolate pig, was ready, because the lady is upstairs waiting. Jeanie would then ask “what order for a solid chocolate pig? I never knew about that.” Jackie would then march over to the little cork board with the order and pull a little slip of paper out from underneath a bunch of other pieces of paper and say “THIS order for a solid chocolate pig!!” and they would yell at each other for a few minutes about how we need to have better communication between the upstairs and downstairs, all the while Jeanie is digging through her boxes of molds looking for the pig mold. “Tell her she’ll just have to wait, then, Jackie!” she would say. And about 20 minutes later the pig was ready and packaged in some Easter grass and on it’s way to some kid’s mouth. No one ever stayed mad, but there was definitely tension at time. These were about the only times when Chris and I were smart enough to keep our mouths shut. But just those times and those times only, as everyone who worked with us will attest to.

The Fawn family will always be special to me, for the memories I made and the friends I continue to have. The last Christmas I spent working there was 2 or 3 years ago…Melissa is still there but Nancy has moved on to other things and Chris isn’t around any more either. Sadly, we lost Pep about 5 years ago now if I’m not mistaken…he had heart problems. But I’m sure he was smiling right up to the end…the guy really was amazing and I hope to have half his energy at his age. I’ve been extremely lucky that no one super close to me had ever passed away, and when Pep’s time came I felt that he was the closest person I’d lost up to that point…that’s how much of a family it felt like.

These days I pop my head in when I can to say hey to everyone and buy a couple things for some folks. After being there so long, I know what everyone likes…Grandma Von Allmen likes carmellows, Amy loves watermelon and cherry Jelly Bellys, Maurie’s a big fan of the foil peanut butter eggs, Steph loves the huge Whopper eggs, Dad’s vice is Chocolate Covered Oreos and Mom can’t get enough of the marshmallow peeps, but only after they’ve been left out to get crusty for a few days. Gross, Mom! As for me, I love it all. Chocolates, caramels, stuff with nuts, stuff without nuts, soft stuff, crunchy stuff, I eat it all. But what I love most are the people. The people are what make it special. So I suppose all I should say is…thank you. Thanks for the memories, the friends, the love and the 50% discount :)