A Point of View

The Corner Store achieves what “Cheers”, Central Perk in “Friends” and any other sitcom tries to tell you about a community: Here, we know you and your mother (and your orders).

Here, we’re family.

Owner Peggy Lindquist managed to make that reality when she purchased The Corner Store 15 years ago, transforming the small 73-year-old former market into a sandwich, coffee, candy, art gallery, toy extravaganza shop off of 37th street.

It’s why they don’t advertise, according to Lindquist, who knows that describing it as a coffee shop is the death of what The Corner Store actually is. It’s a place for community.

And the kids of the community want to run in to buy gummies and Cheetos, while the adults sit in the Corner of Curmudgeons-affectionately named after its frequent grumpy elder visitors- to have lunch while others sit with a coffee in one hand at the long, mix-matched wooden table with placards honoring veteran Corner Store goers.

“I wanted to turn it into a place where I grew up,” Lindquist said.

Originally from Berkeley, Lindquist recalled her own childhood corner store, where she bought her first stuffed animal and saved her pennies to purchase bazooka bubble gum.

Lindquist, who worked as a director of park foods at Knott’s Berry Farm, called herself the phantom wife, neighbor and and friend, sometimes logging over 100 hours at work. When the opportunity presented itself, Lindquist and her husband Bruce proudly became the eighth owners of the historic market.

Large stuffed animals stand on racks of candy-an ode to Lindquist’s fond memories. Signs of The Corner Store’s many iterations, including Joe’s Market, hang on the walls.

But with all of The Corner Store’s nods to the past, Lindquist lives and works for the present.

The same racks of candy hold locally made items: beaded necklaces with silver hearts and seashell art. The same walls that have vintage signs and a framed flyer of The Corner Store’s opening in 1947, then called Ideal Palisades, also hang paintings created by local artists available for purchase.

Beyond the goods are the people of The Corner Store.

“I wanted to hire the neighborhood kids,” Lindquist said. “What a great opportunity I have to do that.”

Her youthful staff are friendly, chatting with customers and each other throughout their shifts. In the front of the store, The Rumble perform original songs and covers as they have for the past two years here on Saturday afternoons.

In between sets, the South Bay natives of The Rumble take turns telling stories of Pedro history and admiring Lindquist’s character. The store, which grows loud with laughter, chatter and the strums of a guitar, is like an orchestra to Lindquist’s ears.

“This is the epitome of San Pedro community,” Lindquist said.

To enjoy a day at the Korean Bell of Friendship, I’ve determined that you’ll need a sandwich or an afternoon. Ideally both, but considering that the by breathing we therefore all have afternoons, there’s no excuse.

It was gifted to Los Angeles by the people of the Republic of Korea in 1976 to honor America’s 200 years of independence, Korean war veterans and encourage friendship between the U.S. and Korea.

Initially, I did not intend to write a blog post on the Korean Bell of Friendship. It felt too touristy for my liking.

When I spent the afternoon there, I realized I had underestimated the value it held for locals. But if I wanted to have an authentic Pedro experience at the Korean Bell, my first stop was five minutes away off Walker Avenue.

Busy Bee Market is beloved by sandwich shop and corner market in San Pedro. It’s the kind of place where customers happily stand in the long lines as fans whirl overhead, chatting about what their child is up to with the men behind the counter who slop barbecue chicken and marina sauce on your french bread.

It’s also what you pick up for lunch when you want to sit on the grassy tops beside the Korean Bell. 

As I sat with my Italian sausage sub-an unideal choice as the breeze cooled my meat-I spotted a handful of others tearing into their sandwich.

On a clear day, you can see Catalina Island and the Port of Los Angeles. 

Families and couples moved about, snapping photos of themselves with the Bell while others picnicked around the hill.

Terry and Lisa Payne were one of the many picnickers, sitting in chairs with a small foldable table in front of them. Terry, a Long Beach native, married Orange County native Lisa a few years back.

One of the first things he did after they married was a trip to the Korean Bell of Friendship. The views were striking enough to lead them back to the bell, even as the two enjoyed their coastal views from their home off of Second street in Belmont Shores.

A father and daughter flew kites together while families ran up to the ice cream truck in the parking lot. Two men filmed each other skating off the steps of the bell, grunting each time they failed to land properly. There were plenty of lone visitors as well, including Mark Bolin and his black Labrador Sadie.

I watched him and his dog unhurriedly walk the perimeters of the park, stopping for long moments to stare out in the water. 

Bolin was a quiet man who gripped my hand in a firm shake when I introduced myself. He retired after a career in the film industry where he worked with camera dollies and other equipment. As we talked about San Pedro, he mentioned how spending the day at the bell was a way to get Sadie out of the house.

Later, I thought about how communal the Bell was. A chance to make idle chatter, have a sandwich and take in a beautiful view. If it’s touristy, so be it. 

The title of this blog is Hangouts and History. The Korean Bell of Friendship embodies both.