Losing a Filene's Friend

I haven’t shopped at Filene’s in Downtown Crossing in many years. Still, I took the news of its planned closing very hard. Filene’s is as closely connected with Boston as anything I can think of. It is the Red Sox of department stores. While I can’t claim Boston as my birthplace, having lived here almost thirty years (and hence, the bulk of my life), I’m entrenched enough to feel the loss profoundly. It’s as if a dear friend—the one with whom I share my deepest, darkest secrets—has announced she’s moving away.

Ever since I learned about the closing of Filene’s, I’ve been trying to understand why I am so sad. I realized I’ve never fully accepted that Jordan Marsh turned into Macy’s. I mean, Macy’s is about as ‘New York’ as the Yankees. Though that change was almost ten years ago, when I picture Downtown Crossing, I still see Filene’s and Jordon Marsh, kindly neighbors, eyeing each other from across the way, keeping each other company like life-long friends.

There have been many corporate takeovers and changes in Boston over the years, and though I’ve been affected by all of them in different ways, none has hit me as hard as this one. I felt sad when BayBank become Bank of Boston, in part I think, because BayBank was where I first used an automatic teller card. I wasn’t bothered when it eventually become Fleet, and I cared less when Fleet became Bank of America (by then I’d switched to Sharon Credit Union). I guess I just wasn’t emotionally tied to my bank.

I wasn’t troubled when Sullivan stadium became Foxboro stadium, or when CMGI Field turned into Gillette. Having only been there once, I guess I wasn’t emotionally tied to the stadium either. The news of Gillette being bought out by Proctor & Gamble was distressing for reasons other than personal. It was hard to take yet another story of corporate greed at the expense of hard-working people. As upsetting as the Gillette news was, for me, it fell into the category of public outrage, rather than private upset.

And there have been other local losses and changes: Polaroid, John Hancock, Lechmere, Great Woods. Though I get a pang of nostalgia when I utter these institutional names, the loss does not feel crushing. Not like Filene’s.

I think the reason the Filene’s news has hit me so hard, is because it is much more than a department store. It is linked with bits of my life. Filene’s will be forever meshed with my move to Boston in 1976, with the excitement of living in a new city, and starting college. When my roommates and I went to Downtown Crossing, it was an all-day affair. We’d hop aboard the T at Boston College, screeching along Commonwealth Avenue until we entered the eerie under-road darkness. We’d climb the grimy Boylston Street station stairs, and stroll through the Public Gardens, taking in the glorious colors and scents.

We’d walk through the Boston Common, cross over Tremont Street and stroll into the shopping district. We’d peek in the windows and check out the bookshops and record stores, before heading into the heart of Downtown Crossing. We’d never make the trip without stopping at Filene’s and Jordan Marsh. Being money-strapped college students, Filene’s basement was always the first place we’d go—rummaging through the racks and piles for bargain blouses, slipping on those perfectly priced shoes.

Though we often returned with our arms filled with shopping bags, we didn’t really go to Downtown Crossing to shop. We went for the excitement. We went to explore the vibrant city and to stroll on the no-cars-allowed-cobblestones. We went to feel the pulse of the lively crowds, laughing and talking, just like us. We went to experience a little slice of life.

These are the things I will remember. Filene’s, I will miss you.

(This column was originally published on townonline.com August, 2005)