Polished Act : Neighbors Finance an Institution: Jack the Shoeshine Man

The barber shop that housed Jack Stewart’s shoeshine stand lost its lease last month and a 30-year tradition on the Westside seemed threatened--until Stewart’s neighbors and customers found out.

Then, a nearby restaurateur invited him onto his property and built him a new kiosk. Stewart’s former boss gave him an antique clock to hang inside. Someone left a framed print at the stand when he wasn’t looking. A customer printed up new signs.

“I consider myself very lucky,” said Stewart, 58, as he worked over Dominic Annino’s Italian, woven-leather loafers at noontime Tuesday. “If some mornings I’m not feeling so good it only takes me about 30 minutes out here and my day brightens up. I just enjoy people.”

Stewart’s acquaintances feel they’re equally fortunate.

“There are hardly any shoeshine stands left on this side of town,” said Annino, a customer for a decade. “But this is more than a shoeshine stand, though--it’s like an old-fashioned pit-stop in a small town. Jack always has a good story to tell. And he brought these shoes back to life.”

People in a Hurry

Of course, on the Westside, not everyone has time to sit still long enough to have footwear polished.

A BMW swerved into the parking lot and, with the engine still running, the driver jumped out with a paper sack. He dropped it at the foot of Stewart’s stand, yelled something about “tomorrow” and hurried back to his car.

“Sometimes they don’t even get out of the car, just pitch ‘em out the window,” said Stewart, chuckling. Four other bags full of shoes sat nearby. “I’ve thought of giving (claim) tickets but the only time I have trouble is if a man sends his wife to pick ‘em up. I only know the shoes by the man’s face.”

Stewart’s next sit-down customer, Ken Taylor, had driven all the way from the Hollywood Hills to take advantage of his handiwork.

“It’s amazing what he can do with shoes,” Taylor said. “One time I used a brush for black shoes on my gray shoes. They looked awful, as you can imagine. I brought them to Jack and he said, ‘Let me think about it.’ A week later I came back and he said: ‘Still thinkin’ about it.’ A week after that, they looked as good as new.”

Stewart, a father of five, is doing his sole-saving in the parking lot of Junior’s restaurant on Westwood Boulevard these days mainly because owner Marvin Saul was determined that he should stay in business.

“He’s the last vestige of the independent entrepreneur,” Saul said. “He’s what this country’s all about.”

Saul built Stewart a stand with a brick facade to match that of the restaurant. In appreciation, the shoeshine man has ordered a shipment of paper slippers to hand out to restaurant patrons who want to leave their shoes with him.

Stewart’s former boss, barber Mike Cappetta, gave him the antique clock. An anonymous donor, who turned out to be the pharmacist across the street, left him the colorful print of a desert scene.

For years, despite the entreaties of his regulars, Stewart refused to raise his prices ($2 for shoes, $3 for boots) because he’d have to create new signs.

“So Barry (a customer) made me new signs,” Stewart said, smiling, “and raised the prices (a dollar)!”

Not one to take himself too seriously, the shoeshine man added:

“This is the most excitement for me since they filmed a scene from (the movie) “Perfect” here. I’m in the scene where two girls jump out of a car and buy a newspaper. I had to see the movie three times before I noticed myself in the background.”