By Georgia Twiss, MONOVA Archives Reference Historian, with Susan Choy
There is a particular fond nostalgia attached to independent family run corner stores that evokes memories of hot summer days and childhood independence. Perhaps a corner store was the place you made your first ever purchase–a bag of ten cent candies or some junk food your parents would never buy–maybe it was the place you met your friends after school, or where you would get an ice cream with your family. This nostalgia speaks to the often overlooked, but critical role corner stores play not just as local businesses, but as shared community spaces and sites of collective memory in places like North Vancouver. While most people have never stepped foot inside City Hall, almost everyone has walked into a corner store, and yet their role in community building is not celebrated or acknowledged in the same way. As the independent corner store disappears from our modern urban landscape, so too do the stories that they carry–of their own unique histories and of the lives and experiences of the people and families who run them.
Independent, family run grocery stores have a long history in North Vancouver. In the early 1900s, J. A. McMillan set up shop on the northwest corner of Lonsdale and Esplanade, with his family occupying the small apartments above. Discriminatory laws and exclusionary practices which severely constricted the lives of racialized immigrants, particularly Chinese, Japanese and Italian settlers, meant that a running grocery store was one of the only opportunities for employment for members of these groups. In North Vancouver this can be seen in the stories of folks like Lim Gong and Lee Yick, as well as the Galozo and the Yada families, all of whom ran grocery stores in the early years of the City. By the 1950s corner stores, with their familiar Coca-Cola or Pepsi Co. advertising fronts, were common sights across residential communities throughout North Vancouver. These stores were largely run by Asian-Canadian families like the Choy family, who owned and operated Lucky Corner Grocery at the northwest corner of East 3rd Street and St David’s Avenue from 1965-1990.
In February of this year, Susan Choy reached out to the MONOVA Archives to inquire if there were any photographs of her family’s corner grocery store in our collection. Originally built in 1954, the building in which the store was located was recently demolished to make way for a new apartment development. Susan was hoping to find pictures of the storefront when her family ran their store, however, the only record in our collection was a set of architectural blueprints for the original building and an addition made to it in 1969. While these records provide some of the history of the building and the store, they cannot tell us the complete story of Lucky Corner Grocery–one so much larger and spanning so much further than just its four walls and two levels. This archival gap illustrates the challenges of collection, as well as reflects the ways in which places like Lucky Corner Grocery, especially when sites are demolished, are forgotten to time unless we actively remember them. Hoping to fill in this archival gap and learn more about the experience of the Choy family and their time running the store, we asked Susan if she would be willing to share their story. She graciously agreed to do so.
Can you tell us a bit about your parents and your family history?
Susan’s parent’s wedding photo taken in 1953 in Hong Kong. The photo was published with an announcement in a local Nipawin newspaper. Photo courtesy of Susan Choy.
Susan: Our first known connection to Canada is our paternal grandfather, Tin Joe Choy, who arrived in Victoria in 1907 as a teenager, but because of the lack of opportunities in Victoria and Vancouver (this was also a period of high anti-Asian sentiment there) he made his way eastbound to Saskatchewan. We are still trying to piece together grandfather’s story, but he eventually came to become the proprietor of the Welcome Cafe in Nipawin, Saskatchewan. Incidentally, we recently learned from a Tourism Nipawin Facebook post that the Welcome Café is the longest running business! Our dad, Ton Fun (aka Frank) Choy grew up in a small village called Lin Tong of Guangdong Province in China with his mother and two older sisters. He came to Canada in 1949 at the age of 20 to join our grandfather – which is the first time he met his father– and help with the business.
This is unfortunately a common experience among early Chinese Canadians, who were separated from family due to the 1923 Chinese Exclusion Act that prevented any Chinese immigration into Canada, resulting in families being separated across the ocean for decades until it was repealed in 1947. Our grandfather was only able to return to China to visit a handful of times until war broke out. It was when our father went to Hong Kong to arrange for travel documents that he met our Mom, Yee Wan (nee) Lui. After our Dad immigrated to Canada, they wrote to each other for four years before they got married in Hong Kong in 1953; after getting married, they came back to live in Canada, along with our paternal grandmother. Imagine, our grandparents were reunited after being separated for over four decades! I think our parents opened a second business in Quill Lake, where our two oldest siblings, Jean and Allan, were born. I don’t think our parents were happy in Saskatchewan though, partially due to the cold climate, and decided to sell the businesses to move out to the west coast where it would be milder and where there was a thriving Chinese community. They had a lead from a family friend or distant relative for a business in Vancouver – the O.K. Grocery on Carrall St., and so in 1957 (or so) the family moved to Vancouver, which is where the rest of us were born – Linda, Jerry, Harvey, and Susan; the family relocated to North Vancouver in November of 1965 after our parents sold O.K Grocery and became the owner/operator of Lucky Corner Grocery until 1990.
How did your family come to own Lucky Corner Grocery?
The Choy family. Photo courtesy of Susan Choy.
Susan: I remember my Dad telling me he didn’t like the neighbourhood where the O.K. Grocery was, so he sold it and bought Lucky Corner Grocery in 1965; I learned from our oldest sister, Jean, that the previous owners, the Smiths, had moved back to Australia. Jean recalled, at age 11 crying and telling Dad she didn’t want to move to North Vancouver and losing all her friends. At the time, the building was a single floor, was worn down by age, and insufficient to house a family of seven which grew to eight. In 1970 or 1971, we had a second floor built to it that would have four bedrooms, full bathroom, living room and balcony; while it was under construction, the family lived in the Ranch Motor Lodge for over half a year.
What are some memories you have of the store growing up?
Susan: I have some ambivalence when it comes to growing up owning and living behind the Lucky Corner. While as an adult now, I can look back with a sense of gratitude and pride, as a child, I saw the store as a barrier to being a “normal family”. All my friends at school lived in single, detached homes and had family dinners and vacations, whereas we didn’t because we were open 363 days a year – closing only for Christmas and New Years days. But of course, as a kid growing up with the store, the biggest benefit was unlimited access to candy – Double Bubble gum, Fundip, Jawbreakers, caramels, marshmallow strawberries, and sour keys – not to mention the chocolate bars, chips, pop, and ice-cream! What more could a kid ask for?
Yee Wan behind the counter at Lucky Corner Grocery. Photo courtesy of Susan Choy.
Yet, as I reflect on it, the store was not just a business – it was also our residence, our home. Behind the store, we lived our lives making memories just like any other family, while negotiating culture particular to the “Chinese Canadian” experience. Over time, our Mom learned to pack us the typical ham and cheese or PB&J sandwiches for lunch, but dinners were common Cantonese style fare: whole steamed fish, steamed black bean spareribs, and poached chicken, just to name a few of my childhood favourites. The kitchen where I observed or helped my Mom was so important for cultural transmission. We also enjoyed playing cards, chess, and foosball like any other household – but how about Mah Jong? There was a period when our maternal grandmother, uncle, and cousin lived with us after they immigrated from Hong Kong and taught us how to play, so there were many weekend nights after the store closed and all the work was done, we would play a friendly round.
As a family business, it blurred the line between work and home life, and we all had to contribute. I remember starting with helping bag our customers’ groceries, pricing items and stocking shelves. Then I learned how to use the cash register and make change. I think we were able to independently mind the store by the time we were about nine or ten. Dad would go to the wholesales in Vancouver – H.Y. Louie and Malkins, to pick up stock, and on Tuesdays, he would do the banking at the Royal Bank on 2nd and Lonsdale, go to the post office on 1st and Lonsdale, and do a small shop for stock at the North Vancouver Malkins that used to be on Marine Drive and Fell St. I often would get to go to the wholesales with my Dad – probably to get me out of Mom’s hair who stayed to mind the store. The Vancouver trips were the best because afterwards, we would go to Chinatown to buy fresh produce for the store, and then have lunch of dim sum or noodles in soup and Chinese BBQ. Then I remember shopping for our family groceries at the Chinese butcher shop, fishmonger, and sometimes the bakery as an extra treat. When we got home, we would wheel out the wagon and stack the boxes from our Dad’s station wagon to bring in the store for pricing and putting away.
What are some memories you have about North Vancouver from growing up?
Frank Choy and Yee Wan Choy. Photo courtesy of Susan Choy.
Susan: Having lived in Nipawin and Quill Lake, Saskatchewan, and then Vancouver, North Vancouver is where our parents chose to plant our roots, and I know we are all so grateful. North Vancouver is still home to two of the siblings, and where our oldest sister’s family grew up. There are so many memories: the BC Hydro building parking lot across the street was where I played ball hockey and tennis and learned how to ride a bike; the Payless gas station (which had a propane tank explode one day btw!), and being able to catch a ride home on out of service buses that were going to the depot on 3rd & St. Davids. I remember walking to the City Public Library on 14th & Lonsdale and “swimming” in the fountain outside; getting the Tuesday special burger and milkshake with my brothers at the Dairy Queen which later became Tastee Freeze on 4th and Lonsdale Ave; and my mom having a small garden patch in the backyard to grow a Chinese bitter green (I believe the English name might be wolfberry leaf) for soup.
My fondest memories are of picking and eating big fat juicy blackberries from bushes growing along the side of our house/store, and they were the best bushes in the neighbourhood! Unfortunately, living in a predominantly white neighbourhood/city as a racialized family also brought up painful and hurtful memories of being targets of racial slurs and scapegoating – in our own home/business, at school, and in public. These experiences have a long-lasting impact on our identity and sense of belonging, and aren’t just about the past, but also the present and the future. That is why opportunities to tell our stories are so important.
Why did your family sell the business?
Susan: Back in the 1970’s-80’s, the only supermarkets in my memory in the immediate area were the Safeway and Super Value on 13th and 17th Ave and Lonsdale respectively. Also, they closed at 6pm whereas we opened until 9 or 10pm, so residents did depend on small corner groceries a lot. In the early 1980’s, there were a lot of large grocers opening up that were in direct competition. We recall Dad talking about Save-On Foods opening up at Marine Drive and Pemberton; business decreased by 20-25%, their hours matched ours, and he expressed concern if the grocery store could survive. What to do with the store was a double-edged sword. On one hand, our parents hoped that one of the kids would take it over and continue the family legacy. On the other hand, the common “immigrant dream” was to provide your children with the opportunity to pursue post-secondary education and profession. It’s a sacrifice immigrants make and work hard to provide a good life for future generations, and our parents weren’t any different. As our parents’ retirement age was approaching, most of my older siblings had moved out and had careers. Our parents sold the store in 1990 and bought a house in Lynn Valley where they retired and lived out their days.
How do you think independent run corner groceries impact communities?
Susan: Lucky Corner Grocery is not only part of our family history, but corner stores owned by early Chinese Canadians are an important part of Chinese Canadian history and really, of Canadian history. It is not because of some natural affinity that led the Chinese Canadians towards small family businesses, but because of discriminatory laws until the mid-20th century that prevented Chinese from pursuing professional fields. Nevertheless, grocery stores along with restaurants and laundromats collectively were integral to the neighbourhood landscapes, and contributed to community-building, and in fact, nation-building. All across Canada, as small towns grew, small grocers met the daily needs of the community members and were convenient. In a pinch you could walk down the street to pick up anything from bread, over the counter medication, or a cold pop on a hot day. I think this is very much the case of our grandfather, who became a proprietor in a small growing community in Saskatchewan. Neighbourhood residents know who the family grocers are, and vice versa. They are also sites for connecting with neighbours with small talk, sharing news, and families growing up together. It is a part of Canadian history that has been largely forgotten and is not well known or acknowledged.
Chinese Canadian grocers also had a sense of community, with the shared experience and purpose – to work hard and create a better future for the next generation. I remember our family having friendships with other Chinese Canadian grocers in North Van. Unfortunately, I cannot remember all the family and store names, but there was the Mah’s on Keith and St. Georges, another store on Keith and St. Andrews, and the Percolator Café on 4th and Queensbury. Also, when we went to the wholesale, it was an opportunity for Dad to connect with other storeowners and enjoy that camaraderie.
View from Lucky Corner Grocery south onto Burrard Inlet. Note the store sign that Susan mentions. Photo courtesy of Susan Choy.
What is the impact of buildings, like the one Lucky Corner Grocery occupied, being torn down?
Susan: I feel sad that many of the grocery stores, including Lucky Corner Grocery, and the buildings they occupied have been torn down. I know that change is inevitable but alluding to my earlier point of the little-known history of Chinese Canadian grocers and the contribution to neighbourhoods they had, it is an erasure of history that has given away to big for-profit corporate stores. It is also a loss of a certain intimacy of a neighbourhood, and the site of childhood memories.
Is there anything else that you would like to tell us about your family or Lucky Corner Grocery?
Susan: No, but I wonder what happened to the neon sign that was out front. It was kind of iconic. If anyone who sees this remembers us and would like to share any memories, would love to hear from them!
If you have memories of Lucky Corner Grocery, please reach out to the MONOVA Archives archives@monova.ca to share them!
Asian Heritage Month takes place in Canada every May, and is a time to reflect on and recognize the many contributions that people of Asian origin have made and continue to make to places in Canada like North Vancouver.
MONOVA would like to thank Susan Choy, and the Choy family for sharing their family’s story and photographs for this article. We are enormously privileged to have the opportunity to learn from them.
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Donations are accepted through the Friends of the North Vancouver Museum & Archives Society, Registered Charity No. 89031 1772 RR0001.
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