Back in the 60s (not to be confused with the 1860s or the future), our family used to visit the Pasadena Sears. The four used to walk in through the rear entrance of the store next to the batteries and tires which, gave off a pungent, rubber odor. We usually had a specific item to look for so we didn’t waste much time. However, the hardware gauntlet of temptation would catch Dad’s attention giving Mom a good excuse to sneak peeks in the women's section.
The smell of tires quickly turned to the aroma of popcorn and chewing gum. The ever familiar soft chime of the elevator was a dead give-away that we were in America’s department store!
Sears was a special place for us kids because they had everything: color TVs, stereos, cool toys, everything a kid could ask for.
Over the years Sears became the stepchild of the department store chains. Wal-Mart, Target and the big electronics store made Sears somewhat of a joke.
While out on the road, I noticed a Sears. The sign was fading, the landscaping was a month or two overgrown and Old Glory was tattered and tired. A sad sight.