Good as new

Published in The Post-Star (D1)
4/29/07

Editor's Note: This is one in an occasional series on skills or traditions that are fading away.

When a shoe gets tired, most Americans would rather give it the boot than a little TLC.

"It's a disposable world out there," said Patrick Merrill, who has run Merrill's Shoe and Leather Repair on Main Street for the last 24 years. His grandfather, Alfred Nicolai, ran a shoe repair
business on Main Street in Hudson Falls for 60 years before that.

At 45, Merrill's not planning to retire anytime soon, but he recognizes that he's an anachronism in modern American culture.

"Even in the years that I've been here, things have changed," he said. "I don't think getting shoes repaired is something most people are brought up with anymore."

The Shoe Service Institute of America estimates that the number of shoe repair shops has declined by more than 90 percent in the last century, and only about 10 percent of Americans still get shoes repaired.

That doesn't mean business is slow for Merrill, however. His closest remaining competitors are in Clifton Park and Plattsburgh, giving him a monopoly on what's left of the market.

"My customers are usually in a good mood, because they're happy to find me," he said. "People bring me all sorts of things, anything that needs to be patched, sewn or fixed, because nobody repairs anything anymore."

Joe Podnorszki, a local landscaper, stopped in last week to pick up a pair of work boots that had been resoled. He has a tipping point for getting shoes repaired -- it's not worth it unless they cost more than $50. But he used to do things differently.

"I originally came from Budapest (Hungary)," he said, where, during the Communist era, many goods were scarce. "There, you almost had to get repairs."

Dress shoes used to be the bread and butter of the repair business, Merrill said, but people don't dress up as much as they used to. When they do, they often wear cheap imports that aren't worth repairing.

"I wear sneakers myself, because I'm on my feet all day," he said. "I know, it's funny, the shoe guy doesn't repair his own shoes!"

He still gets customers who find it worth repairing expensive dress shoes, but he has moved into other niches, too.

In the back of the shop, leather jackets bearing the emblems of several motorcycle clubs hang next to police jackets -- perhaps closer than some of them would like to be in real life, he notes with a grin. He also patches chaps, sews on zippers, restrings baseball gloves and even fixes scuba gear. He draws the line at larger projects.

"I've had people bring in old car seats and even a boat cover. I'm just not set up for that."

Recently, he's discovered a growing niche: orthopedic lifts.

"Hip replacement is a pretty common procedure these days, and when the bones heal up, they're not always level," he explained, as he brushed glue onto a 3/4-inch thick piece of rubber and pressed it against the sole of a white tennis shoe.

Other things haven't changed much. The stitching machines in Merrill's shop are at least half a century old, handed down from his grandfather, and he still relies on glue, sandpaper and elbow grease.

Although he gets brochures in the mail about trade shows, Merrill rarely pays attention. It's hard to imagine what new tricks they could teach him, anyway. He's been fixing shoes since he was 8 or 9, helping out in his grandfather's shop.

"It all seemed cool then, you know, the machines and all that," he said. "I just grew up with it. I don't have to think, I just do it."

On the other hand, Merrill said, it's not a dream job.

"People ask me how many shoes I've done in my life. I tell them if I knew the answer, I would probably throw myself in front of the next bus," he joked. "I mean, do I get up in the morning and say, 'Hey! I get to repair shoes!' No, but I don't mind it either. I like being my own boss."

He hopes his 16-year-old son will find an easier way to make a living but, personally, Merrill said he plans to stick with the business for a long time.

"At this point, I plan on going to the finish line with it," he said. "When they shovel dirt on me, I'm retired."