Those who know me well know that I am very, very nostalgic. On Saturday evening, my Publix closed its doors for the last time.
Yes, it will be rebuilt. It will be bigger and newer and beautiful, I’m sure. But this particular Publixholds a lifetime of memories for me.
This store was built in 1959. My mom would have walked on the original terrazzo floor near the dairy section when she and my dad lived in La Fontana in the late 1960s. And in 1970, this became the very first Publix my mom ever brought me to as a baby.
When the Palm Beach Publix opened in 1971, that became our regular store. But we still came back over the bridge to this shopping center because right next door was where my mom and I would redeem our S&H Green Stamps. I remember how
exciting that was as a little girl. We traded those stamps for things like luggage and other treasures that somehow seemed incredibly special at the time.
That building later became the credit union, and now it will become part of the footprint of the new, expanded Publix. So even the expansion is reaching into another little piece of my childhood.
And that terrazzo.
It’s just a floor, but I can’t look at it that way. It’s the same floor my mom walked on all those years ago. The same floor beneath her feet when she brought me here as a baby. More than 50 years later, I’m still walking on it.
Eventually, this Publix became part of my own family’s story.
I used to walk up here and get what I still swear was the best café con leche in all of West Palm Beach at the little Cuban café.
When my boys were little, this was the place for snacks and emergency runs for diapers and Pull-Ups. The wonderful people in the bakery knew my boys, and when they were little, there was usually a cookie waiting for them.
Years later, when they were in high school, it was energy drinks and protein bars, especially when Josh, my oldest son, was playing football and needed that extra push.
This West Palm Beach Publix gave both of my boys their start
And then, somehow, those little boys were old enough to work there.
Both of my boys had their very first jobs at this Publix. They bagged groceries and collected carts, and those jobs taught them so much.
They learned responsibility. They learned that when you were scheduled to work, you had to be there, on time and ready to do your job. They learned what it meant to earn their own money and how differently you think about spending a dollar when you worked to earn it.
Caden, my youngest son, started as soon as he turned 14 and was so excited that he was finally allowed to work and earn his own money. He saved almost every penny.
But he learned something else here, too: how to talk to people. He greeted every person whose groceries he bagged, asked how their day was and offered to walk outside and help them with their groceries. Before long, he was well known around his Publix for being friendly and polite.
As their mom, I will always be grateful that this Publix gave both of my boys that start.
And then there are all the completely ordinary memories that, looking back, don’t feel so ordinary at all.
If I was cooking or baking and realized I had forgotten an ingredient, I’d run up to Publix. Sometimes I swear I made four or five trips in a single day.
But this Publix was also our public square.
I knew I would run into other mommy friends or neighbors. I knew there were certain people I would see on a Sunday morning while I was doing the huge grocery run for the week. For a very busy mom, Publix sometimes became a social outing, a chance to catch up with friends and neighbors in the middle of everything else that had to get done.
And the people who worked here became part of our lives, too. The pharmacist knew us. The managers knew us. The deli people knew us. The bakery people knew my boys.
You walked through the doors and people knew your name. They knew your children. They watched them grow up.
Southdale Publix: 'Some places quietly become part of the story of your life'
It was a grocery store, of course. But it was also a gathering place. A place where you belonged to a neighborhood and felt connected to your community.
Recently, I found myself taking pictures of everything: the old tile murals outside, the café, the old scale, the pharmacy, the aisle signs. Things I’ve walked past thousands of times without really thinking about them. Suddenly, knowing they’re about to disappear, I wanted to remember all of it.
I even stopped at the baby aisle. How many times did I stand there buying diapers or Pull-Ups for my boys? Then I passed the protein bars and sports drinks I was buying years later when those same little boys were suddenly teenagers.
Funny how a grocery store can mark the passage of time.
My mom walked these floors. She brought me here as a baby. I grew up, became a mother myself and brought my own babies here. I watched those babies grow up, and eventually they came here without me, put on Publix uniforms and went to work.
And through all of it, that old terrazzo was still here.
That’s what gets me.
I’m excited to see what comes next, but I will miss this place. I’ll miss the familiar faces. I’ll miss walking through those doors and knowing people, and being known.
Some places are just stores. And some places quietly become part of the story of your life.
This one is part of mine.
Thank you for a lifetime of memories, Publix.
Dana Herst is a West Palm Beach native, attorney, community leader and longtime advocate for her hometown.
This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: West Palm's oldest Publix is part of my family story | Exclusive
