The heart cuts and sews our lives, despite our patterns’ chalk lines.

You make a life plan—and, as Julia Sweeney said, God said Ha!

You think if you’re careful, you can steer your fate perfectly. Nah!

Allen Schwartz is a big man. Sure, he’s big in the physical sense, but he’s big in the heart sense, too—and that makes all the difference.

Allen said to me, “Both my parents were holocaust survivors. My mom died, and my dad remarried another holocaust survivor.

Allen’s dad opened his custom tailor shop, Laurel Tailors and Dry Cleaners in 1963. It is the third oldest continuously family-owned business in Long Beach, after Whitbread Lumber and McAvoy Plumbing.

Allen worked at Laurel Dry Cleaning as a child, but he had bigger plans. He wanted to work in hotel management, so he went to school for it. While going to school, he said, “I got lucky and worked in the Riviera Hotel, one of the biggest hotels with the biggest entertainment. I worked in Las Vegas for nine or ten years.” He started at the front desk, then security,

But Allen liked hanging out in the light booth, which provided the lighting for the shows. So, instead of being on patrol, as he should have been, he watched the shows.

Allen said, “One day, the hotel’s vice president, Tony Zoppi, came in. Zoppi was a big name in entertainment.

Zoppi said to Allen, ‘Every time I see you, you’re in here.'” When Allen told Zoppi that he was going to school, Zoppi said, “If you like this so much, work for me.” Allen said, “So I started working in his office, and by the time I left, I was Assistant Entertainment Director.”

Allen worked with Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr and said, “Any entertainers in the seventies and eighties, I worked with. It was fun, it was great.”

Allen said, “In 1984, the hotel was in Chapter 11.” After Tony Zoppi left, Allen moved to Florida and worked as a Sales Manager for various mailing companies.

• That’s when his mom died.
• That’s when he met his wife.
• That’s when he would never again return to Vegas

Clip, clip, clip.

While his mom was sick, Allen took her to cancer therapy and helped his dad in the Dry Cleaner. When she died, Allen went to the hospital to pick up her clothes. He was running late.

He said, “Here I am with all my mom’s stuff, and I went on the first date with my wife.” He said he told her, “Sorry I’m late, and I told her why.” He and Lisa have been together since.

He stayed to help his dad, but when the store could not support two salaries, his dad said, “You take over the store,” and retired.

When I asked if he missed the Vegas hotel business, Allen said, “Oh yeah, one hundred percent. I worked with all the celebrities.” He said he was offered a big job if he returned to the business but would have had to go to California. He said, “But at the same time, I got married and had kids. But (in the hotel business) I didn’t work twelve hours six days a week;(In Vegas) I’d work, and at night, I’d have fun in the showroom.”

Allen stayed in Long Beach but is in much more than the dry cleaning business.

Allen’s wife, Lisa, ran the area’s Girl Scout Cookie program for twenty-three years. He said, “They never had sales as they did when she was doing it.” They sold cookies from their dry cleaning store, and their kids had fantastic yearly sales. For sales of two thousand boxes of cookies, a computer was given. For four years, his kids won a computer each year. They had the highest cookie sales in Nassau County.

Lisa stepped down from the Girl Scout cookie program when Hurricane Sandy hit. Allen said, “My house got destroyed, so she couldn’t do it.” Lisa told Allen, “You talk a lot; why don’t you do something?”

After speaking with a customer, Paul Atlas, who belonged to the Long Beach Lions Club, Allen joined with Paul as his sponsor.

The Lions Club’s original mission was to eradicate blindness. That still is its mission, but it has gone far beyond that. The club engages in major international philanthropy and local helping.

Allen said he originally joined only to increase the number of customers at the dry cleaning store. While that may have been true, I soon learned that his heart had altered those plans.

At that point, the Lions weren’t doing well with donations to the club. So, Allen’s heart kicked in.

Sew, sew, sew.

He and Larry Benowitz started golf outings. In three successive years, the Lions profited $30,000, $33.000, and $60,000. The club had never realized such success.

Allen wanted to donate turkeys to the Long Beach Soup Kitchen. He spoke with Robert Blau, the Kitchen’s volunteer cook and manager. Allen said, “Bobby said,’ I can’t use the turkeys; I have no oven.’

The Lions Club donated $59,000 to the Kitchen. They built a walk-in freezer and found a donor to provide an oven. Allen said, “You walk in there today, and it’s beautiful. We rebuilt that soup kitchen.”

I visited the soup kitchen a year ago and wrote an essay about the LB Soup Kitchen and Robert Blau.

Allen said there was a kid in Oceanside whose family needed a ramp for the home entrance and a lift for him to ascend the stairs. Allen said, “We did an online Bingo night and raised $4,100 for it.”

He said, “We give out scholarships and do a food drive right before Thanksgiving. We’re before every supermarket in Long Beach and King Kullen (in Island Park) that’s us—the Lion’s Club.”

The Lions distribute that food and cash cards to the seven pantries in Long Beach and Island Park. They’ve been holding food drives for forty years. “Last year, we helped four hundred fifty families,” he said.

On February 26th, the Lions Club hosted a presentation for a mom and her son. Liam Gausman is blind and participates in a blind hockey league. The puck, three times the size of the standard, is slower and noisier for location help. The Gausmans needed funds to travel to Toronto for league play, and the Lions helped their cause.

Allen said, “We did coat drives. I cleaned, pressed, and distributed 1,000 to 1,500 coats each year. The Lions Club would drop them off for distribution where needed. I cleaned every single coat.”

But, Allen said, “Since the pandemic, my business has dropped by half; it never came back. I can’t afford to do it anymore.” He told me people work from home and dress down. He said cleaning that many coats cost him “between five and ten thousand dollars.”

He still takes “maybe a hundred to two hundred coats; children’s coats are in demand.” He’ll always take them. The Lions collect eyeglasses in the store’s drop-box. When people get new prescriptions, their old ones are used where needed.

Allen, now president of the Lions, said, “I have two daughters. The oldest, Brianna, is a member of the Lions Club and teaches AP physics courses at Uniondale High School. She helps with events when she can. My youngest, Michaela, is a forensic mental health counselor. She helps people.”

Allen works seventy-four hours weekly in his store. He remembers his dad’s words: “If you’re going to do something, do it right; don’t do it half-assed.” He said, “Even if I sew on a button, no charge, I do it right.” He certainly has been doing so much right—for so many—in so many ways.

I said, “Allen, I see a passion in you. You are where you are supposed to be, and you’re doing it well.” Allen said, “You know, I think a lot of it had to do with working in Vegas. The show goes on, and everything has to be perfect. Every meeting we have (at the Lions), I have to speak. I hate it. People say I’m good at it; I hate it. I’m very uncomfortable.”

For instance, he said, “We had our 90th anniversary of the Lions Club seven years ago. The program is: the president welcomes you. I’m the president. I don’t want to speak; I have to.”

Allen arrived late because he was home writing a speech. When he arrived, all he had was a piece of paper with “WECLCOME” and “THANK YOU FOR COMING” on it. He said, “I’m sweaty. My wife says, ‘Do you have a speech?’ I said yes and showed her the paper. She said, ‘What the hell is that? ‘I told her I didn’t know what to say.’

Allen said, “A guy comes up to me and says, ‘Allen, you’re shaking.’ I told him I don’t like talking.” He continued, “He takes me up to the bar, gets me a drink, and says,’ Give him another one.'” Pointing to his breast pocket, Allen said, “I was holding the swizzle sticks—I had nine when I spoke. I spoke for fifteen minutes.”

Allen said, “My wife said, ‘When did you write that?’ I said I didn’t write it, Lisa, I don’t even know what I said.”

Allen said, “My wife, Lisa, has heard all my stories, and she’s so sick of them because customers will come in, and I’ll tell the stories.”

Allen said, “I do steal a lot of jokes I heard from people I worked with in Vegas. He said, “Buddy Hackett said something to me I’ll never forget. He told a joke backstage, and a writer said, ‘It’s an old joke.’ Buddy replied, ‘Not if you heard it for the first time.’ And that’s why I tell stories; this may be the first time the customer heard it.”

Had Allen remained in Vegas or gone elsewhere, he would still have helped many people. As a big Vegas success, he likely would have written substantial checks for good causes. But he works on the front line here in Long Beach through the remarkable Lions Club.

He also has memories many of us would love to have. And it’s good to hear them.

Tony Zoppi sent Allen to California to scout talent. After six months, he recommended some entertainers. Mr Becker, a hotel owner, reviewed a comedian Allen recommended, saying, “I saw the comic; he’s not funny.”

A year later, they saw Allen’s promising discovery on TV: Robin Williams. Becker said, “He wasn’t funny on TV, and he wasn’t funny last year.”

Allen has two girls working in his cleaners, Sandy and Lucy. They hear Allen’s stories regularly. Allen said, ” I like people. I like talking to people; the store is my little stage.” He said, “Sandy says I talk too much. I told her, ‘You think people come into the store just for dry cleaning? There are seven dry cleaners in town. They come because we are friendly with them. They talk to my wife, Lisa. They don’t drop the clothes and leave; they drop the clothes and stay twenty minutes to talk.”

Allen’s daughters come into the store to help when they are not at their careers. They grew up working in the store, just like Allen, so they know how it works.

Allen said, “If I walked away and my wife walked away, people coming into the store would not know we were gone because they were raised in the store like I was.”

I think customers would know that Allen and Lisa were gone. They definitely would.

When his mom was ill, Allen’s heart pulled him home. When his dad needed help, his heart kept him there. When he saw people in need, his heart—and the Lions—showed him the way.

Be well,

Leebythesea

Please see my alternate blog:https://wherethesundontshine.net