Main man

By Noah Schaffer

After more than four years, Worcester's long-planned arts district is finally becoming a reality. But it wasn't a committee, government official, or non-profit group that cleared the final hurdle. Instead, the man responsible for the development of two large, long abandoned buildings in the heart of the planned Main Street arts district is Ediberto Santiago, a 42-year old minority businessman and neighborhood resident.

Santiago is taking a $1.8 million gamble on the future of "Main Middle", the area of Main Street that falls between downtown and the Clark University area. While city hall has focused on downtown and Clark on Main South, Main Middle has been mostly ignored. Many large buildings have remained empty for decades.

"Eddie" Santiago, as he's known by friends, is building a new supermarket in the Mart building, a once beloved, bustling department store vacant since 1988. His work on the Mart building has provided needed support for the redevelopment by Community Builders Inc. of the vacant Odd Fellows Hall, located next door, into a space for artists' activities and affordable lofts. The non-profit company has been trying to set down roots in Main South for some time. An initial proposal to renovate the former Burwick furniture store across the street fell through last year when it was determined repairing existing damage to the building would be prohibitively expensive.

Last year, when Santiago announced the Mart project, local arts advocates rejoiced, seeing the endeavor as a sorely needed jump start to the arts district project which had faltered after the demise of the Burwick proposal. Community Builders credited Santiago with approaching them with the idea of developing the Odd Fellows Hall while he developed the Mart.

Certainly, Santiago's new market will patch a long vacant hole on Main Street, and could bring new life to the area. But the idea of a Hispanic market of any size sparking an arts revival may seem unusual. But Eddie Santiago isn't just a smart businessman looking to expand -- he's also a neighborhood Latino activist whose roots are in social services.

Santiago's endeavor is made possible by the

success of Santiago's Plaza, a small supermarket less than a block from the Mart and the Odd Fellows Hall. The store opened in 1993 and caters to a mostly Hispanic customer base by combining the uniqueness of an ethnic market with the low prices of larger chains. On any given day, the store's crammed shelves and nonstop lines show that the market is outgrowing its space. Santiago plans to move the market and a cash-and-carry (a mini-wholesale supplier for small businesses) into the Mart, while maintaining the current space for video rentals.

Santiago has impressed many non-Latinos in Worcester. A December ribbon-cutting ceremony for the Mart project drew a packed house of politicians, activists, and business leaders. Longtime neighborhood activist Bill Breault is a particularly big fan of Santiago. "Where others gave up, he keeps at it. He kept bugging the owner of the Mart building until she finally agreed to sell it. He really pulled it off. You didn't see Shaw's asking to come in here -- what you have is an inner city, minority owned supermarket with the money circulating in the community, instead of leaving it through a chain."

In the urban United States, the typical Hispanic market, or "bodega", is commonly a small corner store that values convenience over selection and prices. Drop into a Vernon Hill ethnic corner market and you'll shell out nearly six dollars for coffee and a quart of milk.

That's where Santiago's idea of a Hispanic supermarket comes in. Like large chains such as Shaw's, his stores use price scanning systems and place strong focus on product presentation -- no dusty shelves or dented cans here. His store offers fresh meats and fish, and tropical fruits are trucked in from Florida. The products offered appeal to the many different groups that make up Worcester's Hispanic population -- Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, Salvadorans, as well as the Brazilians, Caribbeans and West Africans who live in the area. This variety, says Santiago, is key to his business's success. "If you can have the one product that someone really wants and can't find anywhere, and you offer a good price, they'll buy the rest of their $80 worth of groceries in your store," he says.

The rise of Santiago's Plaza has mirrored changes in Worcester's Hispanic community. According to Centro Las Americas' Orozco, the city's Hispanic population jumped 28% between the 1990 census and the 1995 census, from 16,250 to 20,955. According to Orozco, that number will grow substantially when the 2000 census is released later this year. "We're expecting that it will be between 29,000 and 30,000. In the Main Middle area, we estimate that the population is 80% Hispanic," she says.

But besides increased numbers, Worcester's Latino community has also matured, according to Santiago. "Now you have people with cash and jobs, instead of using food stamps. When you have some cash, you can also go to a restaurant and the dry cleaners."

Adds Orozco: "In the past, people had in their mind this minority group as a group that came here to take welfare. I don't see it -- we're seeing a lot of immigrants coming to work. You can check on them one or two years later and find that they are doing very good -- paying taxes, and even buying houses."

In the past, says Orozco, many Latino immigrants thought less about creating strong ties to the community than with simply earning a solid paycheck. "Now, people are coming to look for a nice job and to stay here. The immigrant mind is changing a lot."

Will the arrival of a Main South market than aims to compete with juggernaut chains like Shaw's and Big Y spell death for the many tiny corner stores that dot Main Street, some appearing every few feet?

Santiago downplays the notion. "Those stores were here before I came here, and they'll always be here. Some people just won't or can't go anywhere but right where they live." Also, Santiago points to the cash-and-carry aspect of the Mart building plan as a way his project could actually help smaller Latino markets in Worcester.

Santiago isn't the first to take a stab at a large, Latino supermarket in Worcester. In the mid-90's, the Roxbury-based Tropical Foods tried opening in Webster Square. Although a mainstay in Roxbury, by 1996 the Worcester store had closed its doors. The space now houses a Pep Boys auto parts franchise.

Tropical Foods owner Ronn L. Garry Sr. blames internal problems like an overpriced lease and a lack of good, experienced management and advisors. But he also says he made a crucial mistake by trying to target a white customer base via expensive marketing, instead of just focusing on Hispanics. "It's an unfortunate reality that a lot of mainstream white people don't want to shop in a Hispanic market. There's a fear factor there. We tried to cater to both [markets] and it didn't work."

It is no surprise that Santiago followed the saga of Tropical Foods closely. Although he doesn't consider himself competitive by nature, he keeps a close eye on other markets to see what works and what doesn't -- in the past six months alone, he estimates he's visited over 60 markets around New England, and he's got scores of consultants helping out with every angle of the Mart project.

"Tropical Foods had a bad location. I'm more centrally located and more accessible to people than their location," says Santiago. "We have an excellent management team, and we know the local market, which I don't think they did. I'm very comfortable that the experience won't repeat."

Although Santiago's new market has been hailed as an integral part of the arts district plan, it will certainly aim for a different market than the Odd Fellows Building. That arts building will likely seek outsiders to visit Main South to see the creations of local artists. Santiago expects about 70 percent of his business to come within the immediate area, with much of the balance coming from visiting ethnic shoppers who can't find products closer to their neighborhoods. While white suburban shoppers are welcome, Santiago doesn't feel he needs them to survive.

Garry expresses concerns about Santiago's business plan, wondering how closely the city looked at it before granting a TIF. "It's good for the city to encourage people like Mr. Santiago, but to have another business go down in a few years doesn't help anyone, or any neighborhood."

The TIF was originally approved by since-departed Chief Development Officer Everett Shaw. His successor, Phil Niddrie, says the city liked several aspects of the business plan. "It is a public-private partnership, since he's getting both private bank financing and a Federal Small Business Loan. We were getting little or no tax revenue out the building [before], and he'll be creating jobs." Under the TIF agreement, at least 51 percent of Santiago's employees must be Worcester residents. Niddrie also points to Santiago's own cash committment of $150,000. "That's a good sign that someone has a background and that they think the business will perform well," says Niddrie.

Ask people about Eddie Santiago, and they'll tell you that besides being a good businessman, he's a nice guy. Teresita Orozco, executive director of the Latino social services agency Centro Las Americas points out that "[Santiago] is very charming."

When Eddie Santiago arrived in the United States, he certainly didn't envision himself working in the grocery business. Santiago had grown up in the Dominican Republic. He obtained a Bachelor's Degree in Social Work, and a Masters in Education and Social Science. He worked, simultaneously, as a supervisor for the phone company and as a teacher, and helped start a non-profit organization for educating farmers. "I was a bit of a hotshot, with a secretary," he recalls.

But the lure of the United States proved too much to resist, and Santiago landed in New York City, against the advice of several of his brothers who had already moved here. Finding a job as a professional with little English skills was impossible, and even blue collar work proved elusive in a tough New York economy, says Santiago. Even McDonald's turned down his application. One night he went to a party.

"There was a guy there who talked about what he called `my city', Worcester" recalls Santiago. The party-goer's tale of Worcester was so compelling that Santiago moved to Worcester three days later and soon scored a job at Norton Company.

Working overtime at a factory was tough on Santiago's college-educated body, but he proved a diligent worker and attracted the attention of management. Language and technology barriers still made Santiago's previous degrees of little use, but Norton put him through Quinsigamond Community College where he took classes in English and computers. Later, the company offered to send him on to Clark or WPI.

"They gave me the option, but it is difficult to see yourself competing with young kids, like the ones you used to teach," says Santiago.

Instead, Santiago struck out on his own, joining forces with his brother Roberto. In 1992, they opened their first venture, a small store on Vernon Hill. It flopped miserably. Santiago blames local market conditions. "There wasn't a large Hispanic population in that area, and the people who lived there were very set in their ways. They'd rather go to Honey Farms, even though their prices were [high] compared to ours," remembers Santiago. "I learned the hard way. On Vernon Hill, I didn't have a targeted market, or a business plan, or a good knowledge of the type of merchandise I should sell."

Switching to the Main Street location in 1993, Santiago began to hit his stride. But as Santiago himself points out, he made some mistakes along the way.

A major investment in ice cream-making equipment wasn't the right move in a city with a long, cold winter. Using the same bookkeeper from Santiago's factory worker days resulted in a painful audit.

In addition, Santiago paid the US government $21,000 in late 1994 as a settlement in a food stamp fraud case Undercover investigators found numerous area stores that paid cash for food stamps or accepted food stamps for ineligible products. The case was one of dozens that has been brought by US Attorney Donald K. Stern against small Massachusetts markets in the past decade.

Santiago denies personal involvement in the matter. "One of my employees screwed up. Although I have trained my people very well, I couldn't control the behavior of the employees when I wasn't here. But I'm the one ultimately responsible." Since then, says Santiago, he has installed a computerized inventory system that can distinguish between food stamp-eligible and non-eligible products.

Today, Santiago is hailed at press conferences by the City Manager as a model entrepreneur, and he's been granted a Facade Grant and a Tax Incremental Financing (TIF) agreement by the city.

The mid-90's saw Santiago working on two projects. One was the opening of a store on Pleasant Street. The other was his sparkling renovation of the Benefit Street house Santiago moved into with his wife Maritza Cruz and their two young children. At the time, the beautiful Victorian house was home to three different drug dealers. Its absentee owner was glad to give it to Santiago in exchange for back tax payments. Despite that bargain, both the new store and the house required capital, and "banks weren't exactly eager to come to Main South," says Santiago. Eventually Santiago secured a loan from Bay State Savings Bank. Things are different now: Santiago had his pick of local and national lenders for the Mart project.

Increasingly active in the community they live and work in, Santiago and Cruz turned their attention to political activism. In 1997, Cruz ran for the 4th District City Council seat against longtime incumbent Janet Nadeau, whose base of support has long been elderly, white South Worcester residents. Cruz lost by a very narrow margin, and having a Latina candidate for city council was a milestone for the community still remembered today. When Juan A. Gomez was appointed as the city's first Latino City Councilor last summer, many credited Cruz for paving the way.

From his early days as a social worker in the Dominican Republic, to his current spot on the cusp of a major business breakthrough that could also revitalize his neighborhood, Santiago feels he's come full circle.

"Don't get me wrong -- I'm hoping to make a lot of money on this supermarket. But I definitely feel that there is a social purpose to this as well. It is a very rewarding experience when someone from Brazil gets the product they really want, and at a competitive price. Or when the elderly in the neighborhood don't have to travel by cabs to stores far away to get food. In the end, I've come around to the same thing I started out doing."

Noah Schaffer can be reached at
nschaffer@mailandnews.com.