Get our newsletters

Community buoys Perkasie's Arch Street Deli in owner’s time of need

Posted

Dave Myers dragged himself out of bed on the morning of Sept. 18 and headed to work at the Arch Street Deli. It’s just a few short steps from his apartment behind the store he purchased a year earlier, but the 58-year-old Perkasie man was winded by the time he got there. He had been feeling exhausted the past couple of weeks but always managed to get through the day, reminding himself that someone had to make some of the best breakfast sandwiches and cheesesteaks in the Perkasie area.

But this time, something felt different. His breathing was more labored than usual. At about 5:15 a.m., 45 minutes before he was scheduled to open, Myers called Charis Hunsberger, the former owner of the deli and a close friend. He asked if she could run things for the day while he got checked out at the Grand View Hospital Emergency Room.

That was Myers’ last clear memory for nearly a month while his body fought off a nearly fatal trifecta of streptococcal pneumonia, a subsequent infection, and congestive heart failure as he lay in the Intensive Care Unit for nearly three weeks.

While Myers’ recovery was remarkable — twice his family was told to consider taking him off life support — this is the story about how members of the Perkasie community rallied to support one of their own in a time of need.

***

Back in the day, just about every small town in America had that one gathering spot where regulars would show up at the same time every day to grab a cup of coffee and shoot the breeze while solving all the world’s problems. In Perkasie, that’s the Arch Street Deli, a no-frills eatery just a few steps below Seventh Street in the Olde Towne section of the borough.

Since 1971, it has had a series of owners and different names — The Country Store, the J&J Newsstand, Gwen’s Country Store, and the KC Deli — but never lost its unique charm.

“We like to call it a deli version of Cheers,” said Dee Fell Smith, referencing the popular TV sitcom of the 1980s ‘where everyone knows your name.’ “People just come in and hang out and meet with each other. Everybody’s close-knit. If the coffee filter needs to be replaced or the snacks need to be straightened up, customers are comfortable enough to just do it.”

When it became clear Myers wasn’t coming home anytime soon, the community mobilized. With no access to the deli’s business accounts, Hunsburger was forced to run an all-cash business, which she soon determined was not sustainable.

Together with Smith and Between Friends Outreach, a local nonprofit organization that helps people in need, she organized a series of “pay-what-you-want” fundraisers using food products and ingredients donated by area businesses and prepared by guest chefs who donated their time.

It wasn’t unusual, said Smith, for someone to pay $20 for a sandwich that regularly costs $8. One local restaurant owner dropped off a check for $500 “just because,” she said. The events generated enough money to cover the deli’s bills while BFO helped with Myers’ apartment rent, utility bills, and replacement equipment for the deli.

“I’ve known Dave as a customer and as a supporter,” said BFO founder Tara Gripp Stoop. “Why wouldn’t we support him? We saw a need and did what we could do to help.”

Although she didn’t know Myers personally, Trish Crane Krasnicki said she felt it made sense to offer her services behind the grill a couple of days a week to ensure a steady stream of revenue. Krasnicki was among a half-dozen chefs who stepped up to fill in during Myers’ absence.

“I know how hard it is to keep a small business up and running,” says Krasnicki, a chef at Rise & Grind Cafe and owner of Perk City Flavor, an event catering business. “Dave and the deli have become a staple in the Perkasie community so I wanted to do something to help keep the business going. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed getting to know him and chatting all about food during his visits to the deli.”

One day in early November while she was outside cleaning a wall, Smith decided the deli’s drab facade needed a makeover. She looked across the street at Chimayo Gallery and saw the colorful mural painted there by local artist Tim Gibson as part of his Ten Thousand Flower Project. A day later, more than 60 people, everyone from a 3-year-old boy to an 87-year-year-old woman, stopped by to paint the mural sketched out by Gibson that morning. Smith insisted that one of the flowers contain a heart and the words “Small Town. Big Heart.” Gibson obliged.

It was the perfect summary, she says, of how the community came together for Myers and had responded similarly on other occasions.

***

To this day, Myers still is not sure how and why he recovered.

“The doctors called me a ‘Miracle Man,’” he said. “But I didn’t do anything. I just laid there.”

By mid-October, he was well enough to be moved to Good Shepherd Rehabilitation in Bethlehem. After a couple of weeks, Myers was finally able to access Facebook on his phone for the first time since he went to the Grand View ER.

That’s when he realized the magnitude of the efforts that had been happening on his behalf. Hundreds of posts on his personal page and on the deli page told the story of friends and strangers alike pulling for him to get better.

“I’m still kind of speechless about it,” Myers said one day early this month at the deli. “It was uplifting. I still get a little tingly talking about it. It just blew me away how the community came together for me. It put a little extra step and energy on my rehab. It made a difference, for sure.”

When he finally got home on Nov. 8, meals donated by local restaurants were waiting. His apartment had been cleaned. His bills were paid. The deli was up and running as usual albeit with all-volunteer help to keep expenses down.

Myers still has a long way to go before he can return to working the deli full-time. While he’s driving, and able to shop and cook for himself, he’s not ready to get back to work at the deli.

For now, he’s looking at joining a gym to lose some weight and build back the strength he had during a 35-year career doing plastering, stuccoing, and concrete finishing, and “finding a good balance between working, playing, and taking care of myself.”


Join our readers whose generous donations are making it possible for you to read our news coverage. Help keep local journalism alive and our community strong. Donate today.


X