Berger & March

Berger & March was the name of a record store on 18th Avenue in Brooklyn, near 86th St. and the elevated station of what was then called the West End line. It was a narrow shop filled with records and possibly other music-related items, radios, record players, maybe even musical instruments. All I remember clearly is the rear of the store where the latest 45 singles were stored in a bin. There were no record jackets, just paper sleeves. The store owner, Berger, I think (I don’t remember ever seeing March), also used that area as an office.

In 1956 I had gotten my first record player, one of those portable boxes, gray and pink. It had a plastic handle and closed with a couple of snaps. I began listening to music on the radio, the Top 40 or 25 or n. I was in Junior High School and had an allowance. I spent all of it on 45s, always at Berger & March, to which I was loyal throughout the 50s. At least once I had all the top hits for that week.

Among the first 45s I bought were: “The Wayward Wind” by Gogi Grant, “Since I Met You Baby” by Ivory Joe Hunter, and “The Treasure of Love,” by Clyde McPhatter.

Several years ago, Eddie, a now-retired employee at MIT, showed me the notebooks he saved from the 50s, in which he catalogued his large collection of singles. I don’t think I was particularly obsessive about my records, but I did crave whatever was new in the pop world, regardless of genre or quality.

What have I saved from back then? A stamp collection of no particular value. And most of the LPs I also bought then, which tend to be more traditional popular music, like Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Doris Day, or odd items like Richard Rogers’ score for Victory at Sea and Henry Mancini’s for Peter Gunn, and that’s the better stuff. I gave away the 45s decades ago.