Of Carts and Corners : ...

Equipped with only a lawn chair, a beach umbrella and a paperback titled “Bad Blood: The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, a Tragedy of Race and Medicine,” Shadrick Muhammad is halfway through another eight hours of sun and smog.

From the corner of Crenshaw Boulevard and Stocker Street, and wearing a crisp brown suit, brown bow tie and white cotton shirt, he cheerfully sells bean pies, blueberry cheesecake pies, pineapple cheesecake pies, oatmeal-raisin cookies--and the teachings of his spiritual leader, minister Louis Farrakhan.

That is, when he’s not busy clipping hedges, unclogging drains and replacing broken windows.

Muhammad, a 41-year-old father of five, is first and foremost a handyman, specializing in lawn work, plumbing and carpentry. But two or three days a week--more if the handyman biz is as slow as the rest of the economy--he can be found at his impromptu, pie-and-newspaper shop in front of the Liquor Bank in South-Central Los Angeles.

He’s such a familiar fixture in the community that he doesn’t have to wave his wares at potential customers, the way that many street vendors do.

Muhammad’s been working this corner for about two years, and people know his short list of products pretty well: an assortment of bakery goods made with honey (according to dietary prescriptions of Elijah Muhammad, the founder of the Nation of Islam) and the current issue of the Final Call, the biweekly newspaper published by Farrakhan.

He doesn’t bother to flag down first-time customers, either. From the street or the sidewalk, they can easily read his large, hand-written sign advertising the pies and cookies for the day and their prices. Customers in cars gently beep their horns and hand him a $5 bill for a pie or a buck for a newspaper; pedestrian buyers seem to know exactly what they want, too.

“He’s so professional,” says his friend James L. Wilson, the assistant manager of the Jack-in-the-Box restaurant across the street. He frequently stops by to say hello.

Indeed, Muhammad says he’s never been hassled by business owners or passersby or police. “Most people who come by are real friendly and cordial. I like working with people. I meet a variety of personalities, a variety of races, creeds, colors,” says the native of Little Rock, Ark., who moved to Los Angeles when he was 19 and attended both L.A. City College and UCLA.

And though he occasionally discusses his interest in the Muslim faith with some customers, he generally doesn’t mention it. In fact, he says the majority of those who buy his pies are Christians and aren’t interested in the Final Call.

“I make maybe $20 a day. It varies,” he says, explaining that he purchases the pies in the morning from a Muslim-operated bakery.

“This is part of a program instituted by the Honorable Elijah Muhammad several years ago. It’s a self-help program that those of us who live in the black community can utilize to help lift ourselves up.” He says there are about 30 pie/newspaper vendors like himself in different areas of the city.

“So much of what we make we give to the mosque or the headquarters in Chicago. The rest we keep, but I don’t sell enough out here to say I make a whole lot.”

Even so, Muhammad offers everyone a money-back guarantee if his pies aren’t fresh or tasty. “I tell them to call me at my (home) number. Nobody’s ever called and asked me for their money back.”

And if the city follows through on its plan to require vendors to purchase permits, Muhammad won’t mind paying. “I think the city has just made a positive move . . . because it’s a means of generating income for (vendors), and the city can get some revenue from that as well,” he says.

But Muhammad is hoping the city plan won’t require vendors to operate in a special area that doesn’t include his choice spot.

“I live about a mile from here. The people in this area have gotten to know me and obviously they feel comfortable with me,” Muhammad says. “Otherwise they wouldn’t keep coming back. I hope they don’t move us to another area.”

He’s not complaining, though. Asked if there’s a down side to hawking pies and philosophy on a street corner, he names only the smog. But he gets inspirational when asked to list the benefits:

“I feel I’m helping to spread something that I believe is the truth. I’m not saying everybody else is spreading lies, I’m just saying that I feel real positive about it.

“My faith is the one thing in my life, outside of dealing with my children, that gives me a sense of fulfillment. I feel like I’m doing something that will be of lasting importance long after I’m gone.”