Finding a good fit
story by Michael Clark
Many people throw out shoes when they wear out.
Don Willard brings shoes back to life.
He’s been working at Page’s Shoe Repair on West Broadway since he was hired in 1975 at age 19.
“When I was a kid, if I wanted something I had to get out and work for it,” Don says.
Five years later, he became the owner.
On any given day, customers might bring in everything from shoes to a briefcase to an old baseball glove.
“If we can fix it, we’ll fix it,” Don says. “When it goes in the cash register, it’s all green.”
He has developed a community of "regulars."
“I’ve got a lot of people who come in whose parents brought them in when they were kids, and now they are bringing their kids in,” Don says.
Don's sister Kitty Spradling says: "It's supposed to be a business, but he makes a heartfelt connection with everyone who comes in here.”
The business comes with sacrifice.
Two years ago his wife, Ruth, took a nursing job in Smyrna, Tennessee. Every weekend Don makes the 3.5-hour drive to see her.
“Half his heart is here, half his heart is there,” Kitty says. “But he makes it work.”
The hardest time comes at home.
“During the day when I’m at work, and she’s at the hospital it’s not so bad,” Don says. “In the evenings, when you sit down and you’re not together, that’s when it gets a little lonely.”
At 58, Don looks forward to cutting his hours and eventually retiring so he can spend more time with Ruth. But he worries about what will happen to Page's without him.
“I have a lot of customers that say they don’t know what they’re going to do when I’m not here,” he says.
Don looks over his shop from behind the counter of his shop. At 58, he is starting to think about cutting back his hours and eventually retiring. "I think if he ever wasn't here, his heart would still be here," his sister Kitty Spradling says.
Don puts a heel on a boot. Repairing shoes "pays the bills," he says.
Don jokes around with Phillip Kring (left), who owns the building next door and stopped by to chat. "If anyone comes in here, they don't forget the warm welcome they get," Don's sister says.
A picture of Don and his wife, Ruth, sits above his work station. Two years ago Ruth moved to Symrna, Tennessee, for a job. Every weekend Don makes the three and a half hour drive to be with her. "Half his heart is here, half his heart is there," Kitty says, "but he makes it work."
Don speaks to Sarah Tandy as he opens his shop. "It's supposed to be a business," Kitty says, "but he makes a heartfelt connection with everyone who comes in here."
Don speaks with his wife, Ruth, in the evening. They typically talk four times a day. "Sometimes it might be a three-minute conversation, or sometimes it might be an hour," Don says.