larry pace

Larry's Musings on Life

by Grant Moser

September 2001

11211 Magazine

Larry Pace works on North 4th Street between Berry and Wythe. His job consists of looking through what people throw away. He then cleans it or fixes it and sells it to local stores. I don’t know where he lives. Trying to find him to talk with him is like taking a shot in the dark. It took me four days in a row of visiting the area at different times of the day to finally run into him. He was ambling across the street wearing a jester’s hat on his head, complete with the silver bells that jingled every time he moved his head. Accompaniment music for the interview. I sat down with him that evening on the sidewalk, the sun not quite gone yet, but its glow fading on the warehouse buildings all around us. We had a cigarette, and I asked him to tell me about himself and what’s on his mind.

I’m 35 years old. I took this bullshit junk game when it was nothing. Basically, I turned it into something. I sell it to a lot of stores around here. I divide it into three different shifts: morning, afternoon, and evening. That’s when I go around. I don’t get rid of it all at one time either. I keep some in reserve for times when it’s going to be slow, like an inventory. That way I can still earn the money to get some food, you know? I’m not proud of what I do, but it allows me to make money.

I come from a southern black family in Alabama. We were taught respect, and to help out other people. People back then played the race game. You’re black, we’re white. We want you to be the token nigger. Yeah. That’s why I call this a social ecological race game that they play. If you have a business, you can’t play the race game or you’ll end up losing. If you sell stuff, you have to be flexible and very low-key. You can be aggressive, but don’t be overly aggressive. You make it easy for the people that come into your store. You make them feel like they’re at home, make them relaxed, make it comfortable for them. You just talk to them.

My system is developed like this:

  • You sell yourself. That’s number one.
  • You sell your merchandise. That’s number two.
  • Then everything works very easily.

Now, most of the people around here know me. I’m like a household utensil. They know I don’t steal. I earn and work for everything. You can walk and talk to people around here, or you can go to places I can tell you about and ask about me. You can go to: Squeeze, the juice bar; Ugly Luggage; the bookstore on N. 4th (Spoonbill? Yeah); and Two Jakes. You can talk to them and ask them about me. They’ll tell you I’m a very nice guy. I’m well educated. I treat people like people and they give it back to me in return. People always tell me I should have been a politician. I should have been up in Wall Street.

You see, I was born and raised by my grandparents in Alabama. My mother then sent me up here for my education. New Jersey is where I went to school. New York City education is worth shit. No matter where you go. Their education consists of welfare at the end. I come from a self-made southern black family of well-doers.

I’m a black person who’s supposed to be a stereotypical as they…like you see on the TV or the tabloids…(Like they see in the movies? Uh huh.). For me, you cannot build a reputation nor any type of deep concept off of being a racist or scrutinizing people. I would walk a million miles for my white brother. Like this Jewish guy here, this Hasidic guy who is the landlord here? Great guy, great family. So many people that live down here know me and respect me. I love them. The owners of the buildings down here know me.

At first they didn’t know me. Some thought I was actually stealing the shit I got here. But I don’t go sit down and talk to the little man. I use the education in my head and I go and talk to the man who writes the checks and owns the place. I go to the man who has it. That’s where I work my thing. More than likely, nine times out of ten, the person that owns the place, I see them every morning. They see my coming in and out. After a while, we strike up a friendly atmosphere. So, it’s no problem. Like one of these guys told me, “If it’s cold outside, you can go in.” Another brought me a kosher lunch. It consisted of bagel, lox, cream cheese, and stuff like that. People that do for me, I appreciate that. And I’ve been helping these people out too when I can.

But then I got to deal with the bullshit rhetoric of people like these guys here. They’re still fighting the war. They’re fighting a war of fucking atrocity. They’re Asian, right? They’re still fighting a war of atrocity against Americans.” (At this point a young Asian girl walked by. Larry kept talking.) Asian women are secondary to Asian men. That’s part of the ethnic culture. Until about five years ago, the first Asian women gained independence. You see, Chinese women in the business sector are worth zero. They’re not supposed to be power players in the world. Then two Chinese women in the past five years, they blew the fucking shit out of the water. And made the men look like fucking assholes. Chinese women aren’t supposed to be independent. I read The New York Times, I read the Journal, I read the Chicago Times, Investor’s Business Weekly, anything dealing with my education and upbringing. I keep up with what’s happening in the world.

(Do you still experience racism?) I still experience racism here. Certain Polish people, a lot of times, you find out what they’re thinking when they start drinking. That’s the way it is. Polish people, for one, they’re great people. I experienced the best of the best, from people of all ethnic varieties. But certain ethnics, they have that attitude. Like that place there, they got a black guy. I call him a house nigger, which he is. They’re sitting up there spying on me. I’ve been here just as long at them. I confront them, I talk to them. I tell this guy, you work all fucking week. What you make in a week, I make in a day. What you make in a month, I make in a week. (I think he’s telling this to the black guy he was just talking about. Later on he mentions how the black guys that work around here are all house niggers and play in to the game their bosses want them to. They even give Larry shit for this lifestyle, which Larry says is better than being a slave like them. He wants to wake them up to their reality, he told me.)

They spy on me because…an American black such as me, his life value is worth jack zero. It’s the truth. I’m not going to sit back here and play Clarence Thomas. I’m not going to play Lil’ Abner. I’m not going to do any ass-kissing. I’m going to tell you like it is. I’ve learned to deal with all people. If you can’t live life and treat people with respect for who they are and what they are, you ain’t letting yourself be yourself either.

Tell me about Williamsburg.

I’ve been here for ten years and this place has changed immensely. It went fagville. All these new people are moving in with money and influence and they think that gives them the right to mistreat the people that were already living here. They’re driving in here in their $40,000, $50,000, $60,000 Lexuses with the attitude that everyone else has to adjust to the way they want to live. If they come from so-called superior families, how come these kids are so stupid and arrogant? Not everyone coming in is like that; it’s just the people coming in and not respecting other people that are ruining things.

With that, Larry began his evening shift and started sorting through the pile of junk he had collected.

The conflicting storylines I encountered during the conversation had me confused. He talked about racism, and then talked down about other races. He told me he understood other people, and then chastised them for what they believed. He told me he came from a self-made family, that he had a good education and was well-read, but I didn’t know if he had anyplace to live. He talked about treating people with respect and practicing good business, but continues to sell his items to stores that he knows only pay him a small amount of money and then turn around and sell the item for a whole lot more.

Before I reached the end of the block, I turned to take another look at Larry. He was already talking to someone else he knew who was walking by and they were in an animated discussion. About whatever he wanted to talk about, I would suppose.

People who live on the block told me that Larry protects the block from vandalism and theft and gets paid a small amount for doing so. During this duty, he’s prevented many such criminal events from taking placed. In fact, every single police officer from the 94th Precinct knows him.