For the better part of the last 60 years, Jimmy Prince has worked a 12-hour day behind the counter at Major Prime Meat Market on Mermaid Avenue. Yesterday, the 77-year-old butcher closed his shop for good, seeing as many longtime customers off as possible. Coney Island neighbors filled the place: some brought snacks, like plates of cookies and cake. Others cried. Former customers hoisted cameras above their heads to get a good shot of Jimmy and took pictures of the sign that said “no hamburgers left” taped to the front door. Glen Miller played on an old boombox in the corner. As the crowd spilled onto the sidewalk to share stories, inside the 75-year-old store Jimmy Prince demonstrated that he can still break down a chicken in less than 15 seconds. He stood at the butcher block and neatly put all of the parts in a plastic bag, handing it over to one of his last customers, a woman in her late fifties. Prince smiled and scooped some cookies into a separate plastic bag. “For your mother,” he said.
When Prince started working there in 1949 for $35 a week, Coney Island was in full bloom and Major Prime Meat Market was one of 16 butcher shops along Mermaid Avenue. He now has 60 years’ worth of stories to tell, and most come across like missing links of Coney Island lore. In the spirit of the neighborhood, those memories have become amusements unto themselves, and Prince will continue to be involved with community preservation efforts. When we left the shop yesterday, the newly retired 77-year-old mentioned the Community Board 13 meeting Tuesday night, being held to discuss the city’s controversial rezoning plan for the area. More information on the meeting is here.
Can you tell me how you came to work at this shop? I started here on June 28th in 1949 at $35 a week. I wasn't aware of what Coney Island was all about. I came from Marine Park and I'd been on the carousel and had a frozen custard, but that was about it. When I came here I didn't realize it was a residential area and that was quite an awakening. It was so exciting, the first week I worked—we were preparing for 4th of July so there was so much hustle and bustle. I got caught up in the excitement and worked very hard. At the end of the week the owner of the shop raised my wages up to $40 a week and from then on it was like a love affair. A real love affair. And it's continued through the years. It's changed a lot, the neighborhood—but people are people, and everyone loves to be greeted with a tie and a smile. Which is what I do, and I play music from the forties.
What will happen to this space when you're gone? The store will close and whatever the landlord decides to do, they'll do it. I just hope whoever comes here next has the same enthusiasm that I did. With the change of Coney Island, and the planning, Mermaid Avenue on this side may all be redeveloped. I think the developer may want to put condos all along the north side. The unfortunate part is, now that I'm leaving, I realize the impact I’ve had on people—people are saying goodbye to me, crying. And it's a shame because I could go another sixty years the way I feel right now. I just had a knee replacement!
What are your thoughts on the many controversial redevelopment plans for Coney Island? I would like to see Coney Island shape up with a plan laid out by the Municipal Art Society a while back. They took 25 acres and developed it as an amusement area. I think we should follow that plan, not dwell on condos and malls. The public wants, and needs, amusement and entertainment. Especially now. In the north of the city you have the Bronx Zoo, which brings great pleasure to people; in Manhattan you have Central Park. I mean, people wouldn't dream of putting condos up there instead, so why would they do it here on Coney Island? It's always been about pleasure here, and that's how it should be. Not about making money. I don't understand how few could deprive so many of the joy that Coney Island brings.
You invented some specialties here. You’re famous for your hamburger, the Murder Burger. Yeah. And I'll let out the secret now that I'm retiring. We cook it in water. It's a nice thick Murder Burger, made with fresh chuck. All chuck, all Prime, about 85% lean. So we cook it in water for about 10 minutes on one side and then 5 on the other, covered the whole time, then we put a slice of cheese on it.
Do you grill it? Mark it? No. That's just the way it is. And they think I'm some sort of magician.
You are kind of a magician. But it's just chuck! Though it's Prime and that makes a big difference. Supermarket meat is box meat, and this is hanging meat, by which I mean it comes in quarters - hind quarter and fore quarter—and I bone it out and take out all the different parts. Eye chuck, minute steak etc. The hind has the shell, porterhouse and sirloin. The other portion, the round, I break up into eye round, bottom round, top sirloin, and top round. You cut into it and see the marbling, and it's like a love affair. When I see the truck coming I get excited and when I cut in and see the eye with all that marbling, I feel so proud. It's like seeing your baby or something [laughs]. This is the aspect of being in a business you love, of loving what you do.
Woody Guthrie lived down the street. That's right. He lived right here on 33rd and he wrote a number of songs about things that happened on Coney Island, and on Mermaid Avenue in particular.
Did you ever meet him? I never met him, I don't think, though he was around when I first came here in 1949. I have met lots of the prominent people who made Coney Island what it is: people from the Tilyou family, and Mr. Handwerker—Nathan himself (of Nathan's). The Pappas family; they were the frozen custard people. John Dorman and I were very good friends- there was Philip's Candy right by the subway. That was a real well known place back then.
I don't know that one. Well he moved to Staten Island. The city moved them all out, everyone at the station, and didn't really give them the chance to come back with the high rents they offered. A lot of people that used to be here moved to Staten Island. There have been so many wonderful people in Coney Island’s history: Freddy Garms, who ran the big wheel. Carol Albert, who worked very hard to keep Coney Island what is really is, but received a lot of negativity. You know these people had a lot of love for this place. Mermaid Avenue used to be predominantly mom and pop stores, but mom and pop got older and their children went off to college, like all of mine went, and their businesses and their homes deteriorated and the children don't want them and new people come in. And if it's not their children they often don't have the same feeling and love as mom and pop. Businesses closed, homes ran down, drugs came, prostitution came.
What about Coney from that era? I remember one night prior to 4th of July one year. I was in the ice box working until 1am and the lights were out up front, and the store was all locked up. I heard this strange sound, clop clop clop. I look out the front window and see a mounted cop chasing a group of prostitutes in high heels—so that was the clop clop was. That's when Coney hit bottom.
When was that? The 70s.
And the night before July 4th was typically an all-nighter? Oh yeah. Chopped meat, frankfurters, kebabs, all for the next day. It's nothing on holidays to work like that, but at that point it was so bad. And I kept the store going, I never rolled down gates. There was a hotel there on the corner where a lot of the prostitutes came and went, and they shopped here during the day. There was one who I gave a little credit to. My wife had me run somewhere to pick something on my way home and I forgot to lock the door. So the girl came in, the door was unlocked, and the lights were out. She went over to the pizzeria down the street where Eddie, a guy who worked for me, worked a second shift. And she told him, "Hey, Major's door is open!" So he came over and called me. Anyhow, I didn't know what to expect when I came in. Not a thing had been touched. There was money in the till. None of it had been touched. All the time you hear this nonsense about Coney being bad, but it's not so. There are so many good people here. And those are the things you remember. It's been a joyous trip.
Tell me about some of your customers. I had a man who was the head of the Democratic party, Meade Esposito. He was a customer of mine, and one day I went out through the door with his bags to take them to his car. He put his arm around me and said, "Son, I want you to remember one thing," he knew I had a big family—I have thirteen grandchildren—and he said, "your family is the most important thing. Don't ever forget that." Bishop Sheen—he was a bishop in New York City, and a customer of ours. He gave me a picture with an autograph, which I still treasure. When you look at people on television, you have a particular idea. I thought he was so tall but when he was in-person here, he was only about that high.
What's that cut of meat on the table behind the counter? This is the chuck of lamb and I'm going to cut it with the band saw.
How old is that saw? It's been here 75 years. It's on Social Security. [Jimmy Prince fires up the machine and saws the meat in half] So this is the spinal cord, you take off the chops here and get two or three, depending on the thickness. Then you turn it and cut it this way, and get 4 or 5 long chops, depending on the thickness.
What's going to happen to all your stuff from the shop? The butcher blocks are spoken for - I have a couple customers renovating their kitchens. The band saw will go to a museum with a historical theme.
You get all kinds of visitors from the neighborhood and everyone seems to know you. Do you have any vegetarian customers here? Well, one of my sons is vegetarian. And I can't argue with him because he finished the New York City Marathon, eighty-eighth place. So I just dropped the subject, it was very impressive. C'est la vie.
Will you vacation when you close next week? I’ll be working with Charles Denson to help preserve the history of Coney Island. I also want to spend time with my wife, who I owe so much to. I couldn't ask for a better person, or someone to do more for me. She's a dental hygienist. The kids, thank god, they all turned out really well, thanks to her.
You're known for wearing a tie under your butcher vest. Oh yes, I always wear a tie. Over sixty years now.
How many ties do you own? Oh so many! And it's nice because the kids never worry about what to buy me - they know to buy me a tie. Excuse me, I'll get the phone. [Prince goes to answer the phone] That was someone who lives out in Kansas City as a computer analyst—he found out we were closing so he called to congratulate me on my retirement. He worked for me almost 20 years ago! He grew up here, in a rough area right around here, so it's good to hear he's doing well now.
How long did he work here? About four years, a while back. I'm just so happy to know I might have had a hand in him going in the right direction.
