A milk bar closes

Illustration by Hannah Maskell, 2004.

Milk bars and corner shops have been closing for – let’s see – 40 or 50 years? Since 7/11 stores and the like started up in petrol stations.

So what if another one shuts its door?

When I moved all of four kilometres three years ago I knew I would miss my milk bar and that I would have to make do with a small supermarket instead.

The owners of the milk bar were a Chinese couple with two school children. They had taken over in 2013 from a Chinese woman who had taken over from a Chinese couple who had a taken over from a Greek family, who had run the shop for many a year.

I didn’t buy much more than milk and the newspaper a few times a week. The transactions were straightforward and friendly but I could not speak Chinese and the owners’ English was limited.

Still, you build a rapport. It’s not so much the words but the smile, the glint in the eye, the arch of the brow, the nod of the head.

One day the mother asked me to write a short letter. “For permanent residency. We are applying. We need. Support. Letter of support.”

She showed me some paperwork. “Maybe you could? Write?”

The mother knew that I was working as a school-crossing supervisor at the time, at the school her daughter attended. Literally just up the road a few hundred metres. Did she think that that gave me some status in terms of the letter? Or was it my being a regular customer that gave her the confidence that I might be able to help?

But what to write?

Reference for

Zhu Hai Hong and Zhang Wen Guang
Jazzy’s Milk Bar and Fish ‘n’ Chips
July 2015

My family has known Zhu Hai Hong (Rain) and Zhang Wen Guang (Oscar) since they took over the business of Jazzy’s Milk Bar and Fish ‘n’ Chips in 2013.

I visit the shop two to three times a week and Rain and Oscar are always courteous, efficient and friendly.

The shop is always neat and inviting, and well-stocked.

Since 2013 I have come to know Rain and Oscar as not only local shopkeepers, but good neighbours. We often chat for a few minutes about our families: about Rain and Oscar’s two children, and about my three children and one grand-daughter.

I enjoy the friendship of Rain and Oscar and appreciate the many hours of hard work they invest in their business.

Of all the words I have written over all the years, the letter may well have been the most valuable in terms of possibly making a difference.

One day Rain was beaming. “Permanent residency! We have it!”

They kept the milk bar going for 10 years, through til late 2023. I had bid them farewell about three months earlier when I moved house, returning only once, to buy an ice-cream on a hot day.

The three of us see each other from time to time. They are walking their big dogs; I am riding by. We all pause in recognition, smile, say hello and continue on our ways.

The milk bar has been empty these past three years but lately there have been signs of activity.  Is it being renovated to add to the residence that was always at the back of the shop? Like, some years ago, an old milk bar a few streets north. Or is it being revived, turned into a café, like a milk bar a few blocks east?

A milk bar closes.

2 comments

  1. Nice story and nice letter. I wrote one of those a few years ago. I still remember it.

    Cars and supermarkets killed corner shops and milk bars.

    Good work. Big fan.

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