City Councilman Nicholas D'Adamo agreed that Schneider was one reason folks patronized the store. "He is well-respected, and people trust him," D'Adamo said. "People just enjoyed going in the store and talking to him. He is a gentleman. When he would eat at the Eastern House, people would come up to his table."
One time a local coffin maker went out of business and Schneider bought some of the inventory. Within a month or so, sturdy bronze coffin handles began appearing on the homemade toolboxes his customers carried to construction jobs. Others bought the velvet used in coffin linings and turned them into draperies and slipcovers.
"People were willing to do their own work," Schneider said. "They weren't so particular because they didn't have the money to be particular with."
He'd also buy window awnings that had been ordered but not picked up at Sears and Montgomery Ward and resell them to his customers.
"The colors didn't always match but there was not a problem if the green one went on the front of the house and blue ones went on the back," Schneider said.
At one point he sold black tar roof coating in six-gallon drums, when the industry standard was a five-gallon drum. His supplier bought used containers from the old Meadow Gold ice cream company, steamed out the chocolate and vanilla and refilled them with roofing pitch. The stuff sold well because the price was right and there was a bonus gallon included.
Conkling Salvage was the place to turn to when sagging sofa cushions needed new foam. In its heyday, the store carried saws and hammers, and occasionally shoes.
"The shoes may not have been in style, but you put them on your feet and they'll keep you dry and warm," Schneider said.
The store was also known for Christmas decorations that Schneider bought from an importer in New York City. He'd go up Dec. 26 and acquire all the man's samples and surplus inventory, which would then be sent to Baltimore and sit stacked to the ceiling in a Highlandtown garage until the next December.
"It was beautiful stuff made in Germany and Czechoslovakia. Nobody would believe it would be selling on Conkling Street. Once the word got around we had mobs of people in here," Schneider said.
His Christmas business was so big he bought a rowhouse next door and had the gas supply lines and heating cut off to minimize expenses. He kept the electricity on and filled its first floor with lighted artificial trees. He'd bring a customer in, tap on a treadle and the trees would light up. In a few minutes he'd be putting a sold tree in a customer's car.
Schneider attended auctions of distressed merchandise. The managers of the old Read's drugstores knew to call Schneider when they had a surplus of unsold Christmas cards and gift wrap.
While today's hard times would seem perfect for a store like Conkling Foam, business has dropped so much that he can no longer afford to keep it open.
"We lost a lot of our suppliers," Schneider said. "There was just no merchandise a small man could buy."
He also said that "people are different," explaining that his customers do not seem to want to do the hard work around the house they once did.
Now Schneider said he is looking forward to spending more time with his wife, Sylvia, and do some work teaching others how to cut foam for furniture.
"I also intend to take it easy for a while, and maybe do some volunteer work," he said. "The doctor told me the other day, 'Don't forget your age even if you don't look it.' "
