My dad worked at Silverstine's Army Surplus on McNichols back in the 50's. Sometimes he was the guy who gave out free toys to kids.

To a kid like me, that place was a wonderland. They had periscopes, gas masks, dust masks, huge lenses, parachutes, dummy ammo, wheels, infantry field message books with quadruplicate carbons, bayonets, big magnets that would crush your fingers, hand crank generators and motors of all sizes, huge weather balloons, CO2 cylinders, canteens, ammo belts, pouches and backpacks, helmets, knives and machetes, collapsible shovels for digging foxholes, field telephones, canvas tents, stakes, ropes, early "computers" of some sort, all kinds of meters and gauges and wires, sockets, connectors and binding posts, joysticks, electronic and gear assemblies that did god-knows-what, wood and metal boxes-- and all really high quality, with brass fittings, no plastic shit. It was amazing. I even remember how the stuff smelled, especially the dime-a-bottle army surplus insect repellent.

For a kid, this was the best of all possible places to have your dad work, because he would always bring something home for us in his lunchbox or trunk.

At dinner, he would tell stories about his co-workers and customers, like how the old man [[Nate Silverstine) hated unions, [["I'm rich. I don't need this place. If anybody tries to start a union here I'll just shut the son of a bitch down and you'll all be out of a job. I don't give a good goddamn one way or the other") or how one of the managers, who was a millionaire himself, only put in 4 cents instead of a nickel to the coffee fund because he "didn't use cream or sugar."

Silverstine had a great business model while it lasted, lot of connections in the surplus business. He'd buy something that originally cost the government thousands of dollars, for a few pennies, take it apart and sell the parts for a few dollars.

Those were the days.

Any more memories of that place? Anyone know when it finally closed?