Russell Torres
This Christmas, it will be 20 years since I left Videoville.
That capped a 12-year run behind the counter at two stores, running from 1994 to 2006.
First, a year in the lil’ house converted into a snug video store — where the squirrels dashed in the open front door to try and snatch up fallen popcorn and where someone (probably me…) cracked the front window by playing the Jurassic Park laserdisc WAY too loud one time.
The T-Rex roared, the glass gave up with a whimper, we told Miriam a bird hit the window, and she sort of half-believed us.
After that, the building that has been housing physical therapy businesses the last couple of years was built across from the elementary school, and Miriam’s Espresso joined the now HUGE Videoville.
Over the next 11 years I ate a lot of Reese’s Pieces, (literally) golfed a lot of gumballs into the then-empty field where the Pizza Factory now sits and tried to convince a lot of customers to rent “Bottle Rocket.”
Customers are the life blood of any store, and we had some who were great, and a few who were genuine Grade-A asses.
Two decades down the road, at a time when the current generation has no clue what a video store was, or why they should miss it, I tend to remember the good customers more than the bad.
Well, except for the one who completely shattered a chair merely by sitting on it, and probably the one who tried (and failed) to flush a really full diaper, flooding the bathroom.
You tend to remember those ones…
But mainly I remember ones like Russell Torres and Kathy Christensen, who were both customers and parents of some of my best co-workers.
Both passed away this month, and both will be genuinely missed, even if I hadn’t seen either one in person in some time.
Kathy Christensen
Russell, whose son David and daughter-in-law Erin worked on video and espresso, respectively, was a straight shooter and I mean that with the deepest respect.
He was a kind man, a friendly face, always, and a proud husband, father, and grandfather, a man who loved his God and his country while allowing others the grace to hold their own beliefs.
Simply put, Mr. Torres earned your respect through his actions and his words, and the way he carried himself. He was a class act.
Kathy Christensen had a lot of the same attributes.
Her daughter Jodi (Christensen) Crimmins and daughter-in-law Shawn (Evrard) Christensen, who both worked as baristas for Miriam’s, are miracles of happiness, two of the nicest human beings I know.
That love of others was always on display when Mrs. Christensen swung by the store, either as a customer or to check on her girls.
The weather could be lousy outside, but she always brought the sun indoors with her.
Coupeville is a better place for having been graced with the presence of these two, and I hope the Torres and Christensen clans find some peace in troubled times with the knowledge of how positively their loved ones were regarded.
Coupeville Sports 