DinoKall8860

I looked online into Salvatore Corso and found an obituary dated back to 2017. He passed at the age of 92 if anyone would like to google it. He was a fantastic man and as I write this I am deeply saddened.

DinoKall8860

I agree, times have changed but it was not appealing back thing for sure!

FBinNY 

BTW is Guido still alive? He left Stuyvesant after I did, and I last spoke to him when he opened his shop. So it's been 50 years.

Here's the story of how it started, as told to me by Sal.

Guido was newly arrived from Argentina, spoke no English, and walked in looking for a job. It would have ended there except that BITD derailleur bikes were not like they are today.

Among other issues, the steel cranks were of poor quality and keeping chains from falling off was sometimes a nightmare.

As it was, Sal was dealing with a customer back for the nth time over the issue when Guido walked in. So, instead of the normal, "leave your name..... (for the circular file", it was "if you can get this %$@$#, #$*&% chain to stay on, you're hired!!!". Five minutes he did and was.

rsmarion

Love this story--you guys are creating a wonderfully rich image of the shop!

rsmarion

Cool!
In a post soon, I'll be asking about where to take a vintage bike. Stay posted~
Thanks, Rene

Bad Lag

I am loving this thread from 2009.

DinoKall8860

of course, i cant believe i havent looked into a forum before...this is great and i have a great memory of things so its amazing to have a place to share

DinoKall8860

At the time I worked close to both Gino and Guido (father and son) and I am very certain that they were Italian. Although the Argentine mechanic you speak of (also an excellent mechanic) name was Giovanni. You're right when you said he didn't speak english much because he spoke spanish to Sal most of the time. Guido spoke better English but also had broken english. Between the 3 of them (Sal, Guido, and Giovanni) they spoke a mix of spanish and Italian being that it was very similar and they could communicate better that way. Many people mistaken them I'm sure because of this as well as the fact that the 2 of us (Giovanni and myself) would interchange sundays to cover Guido's off day on ground floor walk-in on 13th street and University place (the original 6 floor building where down the block was the Cafe with a big Iguana on the top.)


If you don't mind me asking what is your name and what years did you work? I wonder if we've met? I have a great memory of that time in my life.

FBinNY 

Guido Ricardi, who worked there from the mid 60s thru the mid 70s was Italian, (or possibly of Italian descent) but had been living in Argentina for a while before coming to the USA.I worked there 5 years from late 68 forward.

I was out before you or Giovanni started, so I don't believe we ever met. Actually I'm not sure when Giovanni started, because when we moved to 13th Street, I was working upstairs and wasn't associated with the retail store.

Bad Lag

I used to visit the shop when I was an undergrad. It was 1973 - 1975. During those years, I purchased all the components I needed, constantly upgrading my bike. Having what I needed, I just rode the heck out of the bike and never needed to go back there. In 1976, I left NYC for good.

Out here in California, shops like Performance Bike and Bikecology were very, very good but did not have the "soul", the character, the vibe of Stuyvesant Bicycle.

To the former owners and to those who worked there, you have my thanks. Yours was the best bike shop I have ever been to.

Goldy Lorenzo

I worked at Stuyvesant back in 1969, 1970, and 1971 over Xmas and Summer holidays, while I was in school. I originally worked at the store below 14th between 2nd and 3rd, and then was part of the move to the new store on or just above 14th. They also had a store that didn't last uptown somewhere between 72nd and 96th. I forget whether it was on Columbus or Amsterdam. As I said, it didn't last.

My memories of the old store are of walking in with the racks of bike on your right and the long glass counter on your left. Under the bike racks, near the front of the store, Atala, their wonderful German Shepard would lie, almost hidden unless you knew he was there. He had been raised and trained by Louis Tony, Sal's older brother (not Big Louis) and was a great shop dog. In the summer they would rent bikes. They were just outside the shop on the sidewalk, and one day someone tried to steal a bike. Atala was on him like a flash! Atala pulled him off the bike and stood over him until Big Louis (I think it was) came up and took over. Big Louis was LouisTony's son if I remember correctly. He was in his 20s or 30s. Sal's son was younger, maybe in his early teens, and also called Louis.

Continuing the walk through the store ... So the glass counter was on the left and the bike racks were on the right. At the end off the glass counter on the left there was a door in front of a stairway down to the basement. where all the parts and doodas were stored. Just past the basement door were two bicycle repair stations. The first one was Nick's. The second one, in a corner at the end of the building, was Vito's (Guido? Vito? I think Vito ... ). The story I heard was that Vito had worked in a bicycle factory in Argentina, moved up to NY and was hired by Sal. Nick had worked at the Atala factory in Italy and on a visit, Sal had met him and offered to sponsor him to the US. What's true? I don't know. They were both fabulous mechanics, with Vito being the senior of the two. Next to the back door was a water fountain where a few of the salesmen would hangout to Sal's disdain. He called them "Drinks of water." The back of the store opened to a courtyard where, when weather permitting, the assemblers would open the bike boxes and put the new bikes together. Behind where they worked was another building where the new bikes in boxes were stored, waiting to be assembled. It was a two story building with a kind of an elevator in it. The elevator was really just a rope on a motor. There was a control hanging down. It had just two buttons, one for going up and one for going down. You pressed and held the button you wanted until the rope had lowered or raised to the position needed. You would go up into the 2nd floor, find the bike called for, lasoo it with the rope, and then lower it down. I don't think we were supposed to use the rope elevator for anything other than bike boxes, but we would step into the loop and ride up or down that way sometimes instead of taking the stairs.

I started assembling bikes and would come in to help with sales when it got busy. By the second year, I was entirely sales. One day Sal was working with a customer and was clearly frustrated. He thought the guy was a complete waste of his time and energy, so he called me over to work with the guy while he got on to more productive things. This guy had hundreds of questions and opinions, but what it boiled down to was that he just wanted "the best" bicycle in the shop. He wasn't a real rider. He was rich and just wanted the best. Sort of like the guy who buys a Lamborghini for status. In any event, I tried to sell him a bike actually suited to his use (one of the upper-end Raleigh's that we sold at the time) but he kept pressing for the best. As a bit of a joke, I mentioned the two Masi's we had, way up in the upper racks at the back. I was just a kid. I never expected him to buy them, but he did. Two Masi's. I remember he had leather spring seats put on because the racing seats were too uncomfortable. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't also have the pedals replaced with rubber ones. Sal thought I was the greatest salesman he ever saw. All I did was listen and then bring out the most expensive bikes we had. But from that point on, I was golden.

When Stuyvesant moved to the new shop and I came in over Xmas break for a job, Sal had enough sales staff so he put me on repairs at the front of the shop. Right next to Vito's station. It was great. That summer, I had been up in Central Park, near Bethesda Fountain, and had put my bike down for a second to retrieve someone's frisbee. Before I knew it the bike was gone. It was a Cycles Goeland that I had bought in Paris for a road trip down to Arles and Avignon in the South of France. When I got back to the US I switched out everything for Campy NR. Vito had to replace the screw-in lug insert on the derailleur dropout from French threads for the Simplex derailleur it originally was equipped with to the Italian threads needed for the new Campy derailleur. It may have been the only Cycles Goeland in the City at that time, and it was certainly the only all Campy one. So, when the bike was brought in to Stuyvesant for repair work (!!!) it was instantly recognized. Sal called my parents to have them pick it up since I was in Iowa at the time. I still have that bike. The rubbers of the handbrake hoods have long rotted away, but the bike is still sound.

One story about Vito. I don't know if the shifters which screw into the ends of the handlebars (Campagnolo Bar End Shifters) are still called this, but back then, in the City, they were always called "goodies." I have it on very good authority that this is because Vito once described them in his heavily accented English as "go these" with a suitable hand gesture illustrating using the shifters on the handlebars. "Go these" was heard as "goodies" and so the name was born. They are the only thing Campagnolo I never put on my bike. I didn't see the need.

Revised for improved accuracy.

FBinNY 

Hi-

So we overlapped. To clear up some of your foggy memories.

Sal's older brother was Tony, who's son was Louis. Sal's son was also Louis, aka little Louis to keep them straight. The other senior mechanic was Nicola, and as far as I know, never worked for the folks who made Atalas.

FWIW back then the culture was different and we tended to play our cards close to our chest. Work and home life were kept apart more than today, and we were content to only know as much about folks as they chose to share, which wasn't an awful lot.

Goldy Lorenzo

YES! Tony! And yes, Big Louis was Tony's son. Little Louis was Sal's. After 50+ years, memories blur and then morph. Thank you for refreshing my memories.

One thing I remember solidly: how nice a man Sal was. Tony was grumpier, and Big Louis maybe even more so. But Sal was kind and patient with everyone. He used to stand in the store in a military at-ease position, feet shoulder-width apart and arms behind his back, waiting for customers to come in or explaining something to a customer..He knew who he was and was comfortable with himself.

EDIT: I also remember someone, I think named Francis, who worked there before I did and was a little older. He was in the Youth Hostels, leading rides. I think I met him on a century run to Montauk and back, or maybe on one to Bear Mountain. His girlfriend also was a century rider, blondish and friendly to a younger kid. He may have been the one to recommend me to Sal as a mechanic ... I don't remember. Sorry..

FBinNY 

Yes, Francis, aka FB. So, you now have me at a disadvantage.

I'm struggling to place you, but coming up short.

Goldy Lorenzo

No worries. We weren't that close. I was a teenager. You were a young-adult, or so you seemed to me. I remembered you because you were a bit of a role model. You once couldn't make it to a ride you were supposed to lead, something short, maybe up Riverside Drive to the Cloisters from 72nd, and you asked me to lead it for you. When I wanted to have my bike repainted, you recommended a guy in the Village. He and his wife served me Greek coffee (coffee beans ground to a powder with sugar .. they just added hot water and you drank it like instant, except for the bottom half inch, which was coffee mud) He loaned me his fixed to use while he painted my bike. I also remember once at Stuyvesant having a woman customer come in with a bike she had bought and wanted the seat adjusted for her "girl parts." I wished in the moment that your girlfriend had been there because I had no idea what subtle changes were necessary for her comfort. In the end, I think she just exchanged the seat for a spring seat. It's memories like that which somehow stuck, and, for no reason I can explain, your name stuck with them. I have no idea what your girlfriend's name was. But Francis I remember.

SuburbanCyclist

Recall Sal Corso living in suburban NJ and delivering parts and frame sets to our shop in Caldwell, NJ. Fine people to do business with.

Rest in peace Sal, many fond memories of Stuyvesant Cycles and subsequently Corso Cycles.

cfernandez 

Just saw this a few topics down about the Jamis bike from 1988: