The first time I met Bruce Frankel, he guessed my hat size just by looking at me. I wasn’t looking for a hat, but was impressed just the same. I had walked into The Bell men’s clothing store on Sheridan to get some new shoes (I was looking for Florsheim and they carried them), and it was Bruce that waited on me.

He couldn’t guess my shoe size, but he did measure my foot (a novelty in this age of big box stores) and got me the dress shoes I wanted. I asked him all kinds of questions about the store, and he was happy to tell me the story of how long it had been in the family, how they were originally downtown and when they moved out to the Sheridan Village area.

When I went to pay for my shoes and he saw my name on my check, he asked if I was related to an Orville Summers that used to work at the Journal Star. I was impressed with his memory — I was indeed related, Orville being my grandfather, but he had retired from the paper in 1974, over 20 years before my meeting Bruce. This was a guy who remembered his customers.

I’ve visited The Bell numerous times since then; the last thing I bought that Bruce helped me with was a black suit. He guessed my pant size, much to my chagrin. I thought he had overestimated how big I was around the waist, but it turned out I had underestimated how big I had gotten since the last time I had bought a pair of dress pants. I suppose when you’ve been in the clothing business all your life, you learn how to size people up pretty accurately. He knew his business, and I appreciated his professionalism and friendliness.

I saw in the paper this morning that Bruce passed away on Sunday, July 30, at the age of 74. My condolences to the Frankel family.