Trader Joe's

Trader Joe’s

by Lizi Rahman

All the cards, plaque & Memorial on the wall were created  by his friends at Trader Joe's

When I came out of the Trader Joe's in Rego Park, it became dark outside. I must have been inside the store for a very long time! My cart was full of groceries, and my eyes were misty. With a heavy heart I slowly pushed my heavy cart in the parking lot, towards my car. 

This didn't happen for the first time.  It happens every time I visit Trader Joe’s. I lose track of time once I'm inside the store. I walk around the aisles, look for products, among some necessary items, I also buy a lot of different items that I never heard of or don't really need them. I watch the young men and women working at the store. Often times interrupt their work to talk to them. I ask them silly questions that I already know the answers of. I would find an opportunity to let them know that my son used to work for Trader Joe’s, too. When they hear it some would just acknowledge, and keep doing whatever they’re supposed to do. Some would show interest, and ask me a few questions about my son, and after being successful in getting their attention I would keep talking or bragging about my son. Only once I found someone who remembered him, and actually worked together with him. I’m not surprised or shocked to find out that no one even knows him. That;s mostly because he worked at the Trader Joe's in Manhattan, and it has been quite some time ago. Surely,  I would love to visit that store in Manhattan. There, I might still find someone who worked with him, who remembers him, but as I live in Queens, going to Manhattan for my grocery shopping isn’t a feasible idea for me. So, whenever I get a chance, I go to their Rego Park store. Even though, Asif didn't work here, but still it brings him alive to me. I visualize him working in the aisles.  I used to tell the young men/women at the store that my son's name is Asif. He worked in the Manhattan store, but he passed away more than five years ago. I stopped telling them about Asif ever since someone looked at me as if I was insane, and told me that, 'Yes, I remember that, you told me before." They must be thinking that I  have lost my mind, or something...., but visiting Trader Joe's is like a pilgrimage to me. I find my son there.

I remember the first time Asif went to Trader Joe’s in Manhattan for his interview. Before that, I even haven’t heard of Trader Joe’s. I remember I couldn’t even say the name right. I used to say ‘Traders Joe’, and Asif used to laugh out loud whenever he heard it. Finally, I got the hang of it, and was able to say the name properly. Asif was very excited about the prospect of working there. He told me this is a different kind of supermarket, it's like a new age store, they've special brands, their food or products are different from all the other supermarkets. They only employ very bright young people, and they’re all very talented. Some of his friends worked for Trader Joe's, and they are the ones who told him about this job. Asif was hired immediately. He took a train everyday to go to work and he seemed very happy. Sometimes, he would buy little something from the store, and introduced them to us.

Once, he went to this store in Rego Park on his bicycle. When he came home he had a few bags full of groceries with him. When I found out that he rode his bike such a distance with all those groceries, I was extremely worried for his safety on the road.

So, one day we all went to the Rego Park branch of Trader Joe’s for grocery shopping. It was exactly six years ago at around this time. I think, it was the day after Halloween. We bought a lot of groceries, and on our way out we were awarded by two huge pumpkins. Asif loved to eat pumpkin seeds. After I cooked the pumpkins, he saved the seeds, and later toasted them.

Asif made some friends at Trader Joe’s. He told me that all his friends were poets or musicians. A few times I dropped him off at the Manhattan store, I noticed how happy he was at the company of those young men and women. Even though, Asif didn’t work there for too long, but he left an ever lasting impression on them.

The day Asif was hit and killed by the freightliner, our dreams were shattered. We were devastated. He was 22 years old, he was a poet, a hip-hop artist, a spoken word artist, he loved to do beat boxing, among many other things. Above all, he was a very honest and pious young man. He hardly argued with us, he loved his big sister and little brother. When he was around, our house seemed so much alive! Without him, darkness fell over house. There's no laughter, no noise in the house. I don’t remember how I coped with it at that moment. I was in disbelief, but I wanted all his friends at Trader Joe’s to know about this saddest news. I wanted them to come and pay their last respect to Asif. In my grief, I kept thinking if I didn’t let them know how would they know? They'll never find out until its too late. I must let them know now. So, I searched through Asif's papers for the phone number of Trader Joe's. I knew the store doesn't stay open all night for business, but there still will be some people those who work all night long. I was certain that there'd be someone to answer the phone... At around two o'clock in the morning, I was able to find the phone number. I called the store instantly. I don’t remember who answered the phone. I told that person about Asif’s accident and his sudden death. I also told him that Asif’s funeral will be held the next day.

The day of the funeral, about a dozen young men and women  from Trader Joe’s came to pay their last respect to Asif. That’s how I know Asif left an ever lasting impression on them. At this point I don’t even remember their names. It was all so blurred to me. I only remember a few, they are Chuckie, Hayley, and many more. I was in a state of shock and devastation. I was floating between life and death. My mind was fighting about what to believe and what to deny. I couldn’t believe Asif was no longer with us, he left us forever, but then I was telling them how Asif died. I was delusional. I don’t remember much about our conversation. I think I was talking a lot, now I wonder if I made any sensible conversation!!  All I remember is that from the mosque, they all came to the house to see me. They all sat down with in the living room with me. They told me how much they all loved Asif.  They told me stories about Asif. Some of their stories made me laugh in my sorrow, some of them made me even sadder.

They told me how Asif sometimes took his megaphone out and scared the customers. How he helped his coworkers. How they all cried when they heard the news. Chuckie, mentioned that Asif recorded some songs. This was a surprise to me. I know that he writes, and does spoken words, but he never told me that he was recording music. May be he wanted to surprise me. Later Chuckie gave me Asif’s music CDs, another friend of Asif did the cover of the CD which was how he saw Asif.

They told me that they instantly made a huge makeshift memorial outside the store for Asif, everyone signed that board. Later, they gave me the memorial, which I kept on our living room wall for many years. One of his friends painted a picture of Asif on a wooden plaque, and put it in the staff room. Later, they gave it to me too. 

I felt so happy to know that Asif spent his last few years in the company of some fine talented young men and women at the Trader Joe’s. It doesn’t matter to me which Trader Joe’s was it. As long as I go to a Trader Joe’s, it reminds me of Asif. I look at the hardworking young men and women there, and I think of my Asif.