Ada’s
Ada Cantavero, who ran a little candy store in Riverside forever, has finally died at 88. Funny, but Ada seemed ancient in 1960, when I was just 7, and then seemed to stop aging. When my brother Gideon called with the sad news my first question was, “how old was she?” “104″, he replied, and I actually believed him. But she was great.
When I was a kid, penny candy really cost a penny and there was nothing worse than being stuck behind some rich kid with a buck to spend, calling out his selections one by one. Most of us had a nickle or maybe a dime to spare, so the line usually moved quickly, but if I bear any resentment toward the rich, it probably originated here.
Ada would let us hang out on her front porch but any misbehavior risked at least a temporary banishment, a terrible threat that kept us in line. When kids had trouble at home – a divorce, drunken dad, whatever – she’d comfort them and cheer them up and provide a refuge. A heck of a woman and one who seemed to remember all of her kids, no matter how much time passed. I stopped by maybe five years ago to say hello 25-30 years since my last visit and she greeted me, “Hi, Bobby!”. Bob is my older brother, but the fact that she could place me in the right family was amazing. Riverside has lost a wonderful institution.