The boarded up old-style grocery store in Southeast Portland is a visible reminder that though eras vanish, a neighborhood is not just made up of buildings but of the people in those buildings who touch lives in small ways that linger.
For nearly 30 years, Errol Wayne Carlson and his partner, Mel Hafsos, owned Taylor Court Grocery on Southeast 80th Avenue in the Montavilla neighborhood near Mount Tabor. They retired in 2019 only for health reasons and closed the store at 1135 S.E. 80th Ave.
The key word is closed.
They never sold the building because they dreamed of one day reopening it again.
It was not to be.
In June 2021, Hafsos died. Carlson died June 17 at the age of 81. Carlson’s obituary was published in Sunday’s edition of The Oregonian. Services have already been held.
“That store was their life,” said Carlson’s sister, Diane Dufault, who lives in eastern Washington. “They kept working at the store because they loved the community.” She said after the store closed, Carlson developed dementia and Hafsos cared for him in their home, not too far from the grocery store.
“Their plan had always been to take a break and open it again,” said Dufault. “Then Mel came down with cancer. The minute he knew about it, he contacted family to make sure Errol would be cared for.”
She said Carslon’s family moved him to a Southeast Portland care center.
“It was a good place to live,” she said. “Errol made lots of friends. But then it was getting hard for me to be there for him. I moved him to a Kennewick care center where I could be close by. He died six weeks after he arrived.”
It was Dufault, knowing the reality of the situation, who put Taylor Court Grocery on the market. It was purchased by La Osita, a food-cart operation owned by Elizabeth Guerrero and David Doyle, who have plans to open a café in the space in late fall, Guerrero told The Oregonian/OregonLive’s Michael Russell. La Osita is known for breakfast tacos, espresso drinks and healthful smoothies, plus Saturday morning chilaquiles, Mexican pastries and more.
For now, though, the building remains boarded up, a relic of another time. The place was so small that it could fit inside a two-car garage. The store had been an ongoing operation in the neighborhood since 1910. But running the place was more a labor of love than a way to get rich. Carlson and Hafsos were in the store seven days a week, and became part of the fabric of the community, something they realized in 2017 when Carlson had a heart attack.
A 2018 story in The Oregonian noted the end of the store was approaching.
With his partner in the hospital, Hafsos kept vigil as doctors fought to save Carlson’s life. The store remained closed for two weeks. When it was clear that Carlson would survive, Hafsos left the hospital to check on the store. As he walked up the street, he spotted hundreds of cards taped to the front door.
“Just heard the news and just know you’ve got all our best thoughts and prayers for a real speedy recovery.”
“We appreciate your service to the community.”
“”We love you and we miss you. Your Montavilla neighbors and friends.”
The partners took over the store shortly after moving into the neighborhood. Hafsos, who had once worked in the grocery business, noticed Taylor Court Grocery. He stopped to talk with the owner, who said she’d leased it to a couple, but they were having medical issues. Hafsos asked if it was for sale. The owner said no, but weeks later came to the couple’s house, knocked on the door and said she wanted to sell them the store.
Time stopped in the store: No TV blaring behind the counter. No radio or piped in music.
And then time moved on.
Carlson’s obituary said he was born in Westminster, B.C., and that he came to Washington state with his family at the age of 2.
It was a brief tribute — less than 120 words.
It is on that little stretch of Southeast 80th Avenue where Carlson and his partner were best known, and best remembered.
On Monday, Kahlil Clohessy, 12, and his father, John Clohessy, 49, walked their dog, Auggie, past the old Taylor Court Grocery. They said they’d seen Carlson’s obituary in the paper and reading of the man’s death stirred fond memories.
“I liked to ride my bike to the store,” said Kahlil Clohessy. “Erroll would count out the money and make me do math problems with the change. He was a nice man.”
John Clohessy said every time he walks past the vacant store he thinks about the men who once stood behind the counter.
“I miss them,” he said. “Every neighborhood needs a Taylor Court.”
— Tom Hallman Jr; thallman@oregonian.com; 503-221-8224; @thallmanjr
