Shoes he can fix - but Camden?

The last cobbler in Camden plies his trade safely behind a locked counter door. And as much as it pains the proud, old repairman, he purposely keeps his storefront in a state of ill repair - to discourage thieves.

At the end of each long day, before heading home to Marlton and his wife, Rosemary, the cobbler switches off the shop electricity, leaving only darkness for potential pillagers to root around in. Outside, a large hanging neon boot hasn't shone for decades.

For more than 50 years, Dominic Petulla, a dedicated craftsman in a dying city, has hammered heels and sewn soles at Gold Star Shoe Repair & Hat Cleaning on Broadway. His once-tidy workshop is worn and dusty, as battered as the city it inhabits, like something out of a Jacob Riis photograph. You realize he's still in business only when the boarded-up door pushes open. The cobbler has endured decades of riots and rot - the dying days of a city - all the while making old things look new.

"Here we are," the cobbler said last week, plopping buttercup-color pumps on the counter.

"Ahh, so nice," said a smiling customer, admiring her new heels.

Petulla's father, Joseph, opened the business in the 1930s when South Broadway was the heart of Camden's shopping district. Then, there were movie palaces and bustling retail. Now, there's the despair, which will likely worsen with the layoffs last week that decimated the city police force.

As a teenager in the shop, Petulla polished boxer Jersey Joe Walcott's wingtips the night before he lost the heavyweight championship to Rocky Marciano in 1952.

"I hope you win," he told Walcott.

These days, the Broadway prostitutes often stroll in, asking to use Petulla's telephone.

"This city was alive once," said Petulla. "It had everything. Parades, festivals, theaters, restaurants. It's so sad."

The cobbler has grown old as the city has decayed around him. He has a heart condition, but no plans to retire.

He could have moved the business to the suburbs years ago. "Open a nice place on a nice street," he said, with a wisp of regret. "But this is where I've always been."

"He's a traditionalist," said his closest friend, Anthony D'Amico, who grew up around the corner from Petulla in South Camden. "He loves that shop. He wouldn't know what to do without it."

From a dusty shelf, Petulla pulled a cracked-glass photo revealing a long-ago world. It shows his father and mother posing by the counter in the 1950s. The place was immaculate, with Naugahyde booths, shoe-shine stations, and flowers.

Petulla's father, an Italian immigrant, wore a suit and tie to work. Petulla's three sisters worked the counter, while he and his two brothers worked the machines. The original shop was a few doors down from the current location.

Petulla had options, but chose a life in the repair shop instead. After graduating from Temple University with an engineering degree in 1959, he did a few years in the Army. Then he came home to take over the family business.

"It's rewarding work," he said, polishing a pair of blue wingtips.

Petulla married Rosemary on July 4, 1964 - a holiday, D'Amico recalled, so customers wouldn't be inconvenienced.

"I put three kids through college," Petulla said. "I don't have any hobbies. I don't golf or garden. I do my work and go home to Rosemary and watch the games on television. I'm happy."

His brothers, who became a dentist and an architect, have been after him for years to get out of Camden, he said. Rosemary doesn't bother bringing it up anymore.

"It's who he is," she said.

For protection, Petulla has rehabbed the place over time - to look worse. He boarded up the windows shortly before the 1971 riots and left them that way.

"If you didn't know he was here, you'd think he's closed down," regular customer Lonnie Garrett said while dropping off his wife's boots.

Petulla also installed the doors in the waiting area to slow down thieves. He has never been held up at gunpoint, but the shop has been broken into many times.

"My father would holler if he saw the shop now," Petulla said. "But why spend the money? If I make it more nice, I stand the chance of more break-ins. I don't like it, but what can I do?"

The cobbler works alone - six days a week, eight hours a day.

If he takes a day off to see his grandkids' sports events, he tells his customers three weeks in advance, D'Amico said. He usually pulls open the grates by 7 a.m. and has lunch in the workshop.

"I bring my apple," Petulla said.

His sports programs on the radio keep him company. So do his customers. Business was brisk the other afternoon. About 40 percent of his customers come from Camden, he said. The rest are longtime customers who moved from Camden, but still come back. He also does wholesale work for some shoe stores and dry cleaners.

Crystal Ford, 48, of Camden, took gray stilettos out of a shopping bag to get new heels. "So I can dance," she said. Her mother was Petulla's customer before her. "He does great work," Ford said. "On time and on point."

And where else can you get your shoes fixed in Camden? customer Garrett asked.

Back in the day there were a half dozen shoe-repair shops in Camden.

Now there is just Petulla. He's also one of the only guys left in the area to do traditional hat repair.

"I've got a big-shot lawyer from Trenton who brings all his hats here," he said.

On this day, a working man came in. He had an old pair of alligators at home in need of new soles.

"I don't have any money to buy new shoes," the man said.

"We'll work something out," Petulla said.

"God bless you," the man said, promising to bring in his shoes.