Children Feel The Magic At Cromer's
Nine-year-old Palmer Robinson climbed off a makeshift stage at Cromer's Saturday morning, wondering what just happened.
He'd been plucked out of a captivated crowd attending the store's birthday bash to serve as a "special assistant" to magician John Tudor.
He watched closely as Tudor performed his grand finale, making a little boy, supine and draped in blue silk, seem to float in the air.
The kid was floating? No joke?
"I couldn't really tell," Palmer said, grinning. "I was pretty nervous."
Saturday, the third-generation owners of Cromer's opened a concealed warehouse off Huger Street to celebrate their 75th year in business - and to prove their family-owned business is still a magical place.
The party drew kids in pajamas and galoshes. Everyone was willing to get on stage, waving eagerly to volunteer.
Parents and grandparents may have let the kids have the front rows, but they strained to see and took their cues, calling "Abracadabra!" as Tudor waved his magic wand.
Coins were pulled from behind ears and endless scarves from empty boxes.
Before it was over, there were card tricks and balloon animals, feather bouquets and a rabbit in a top hat.
The late James Cromer was an amateur magician who loved performing tricks for children in the store before he passed away in 2004.
"Mr. Cromer had magic," Tudor told a crowd of nearly 200 people at a midmorning show. "He always had balloons and candy and things to give to friends."
Afterward, Jadon Carrion, 10, gave his own tribute to Cromer, pulling two yellow balls out of his pocket and endeavoring to make one of them disappear.
Nearby, Asha Brown was rounding up her three boys and their coats. Her oldest, 6-year-old Jarius, got a magic kit for Christmas and has been performing ever since. "He likes the top hat, and pulling things out of the hat, and the magic wand," she said.
Store owner Carolette Cromer Turner said the store "just kept evolving" through the years but managed to retain the one quality that sets it apart: magic.
Despite the crowd in back, customers drifted in as usual, scanning aisles of party favors and jumbo lollipops, costumes and cotton candy.
Tanya Morant was shopping for a mask to wear to a friend's masquerade party.
"Everybody knows Cromer's," said Morant, 35. "If you can't find it anywhere else, and it's strange enough, you can find it here."
On one side of the store, a girl tried on a red paper crown for her 16th birthday. On the other, a woman was on a quest for golden pirate doubloons.
Ed McCracken, 20, had never been to Cromer's.
He entered the store beneath the vintage neon sign, featuring an image of boiled peanuts and the store's curious motto, still doing the trick after all these years.
"I have a question," McCracken said. "Do you know why it says 'Guaranteed Worst in Town'?"
