It was just a simple note on a yellow piece of paper on the door of Palma Pharmacy, on the corner of Garfield Place and Seventh Avenue.
But that's how Park Slope learned of the loss of a trusted member of the community. Pharmacist Marisa Palma-Muller, age 48, died of a heart attack on Wednesday. Since then word has been trickling into my in-box with remembrances.
One OTBKB reader wrote in to say: "She was the last of
a disappearing breed: the neighborhood pharmacist who knew all her
customers, had a nice word for everyone, tried to help customers
baffled by insurance regulations…"
Like that OTBKB reader, I am a Palma Drug Store customer. I choose to go there because I like to know my pharmacist and deal with people like Marisa, Frank
Calandriello and Marisa's husband, Peter Muller, who know me by name and are familiar with my family, our prescriptions and our health insurance.
I was always aware of Marisa when I'd go in there for my prescriptions. She was the person working hard in the back who would determine how long I needed to wait for whatever prescription I requested.
She was the one who called my doctors with a question or a clarification. She was the one I'd ask to recommend an over-the-counter solution for acid reflux or a common cold.
Frank
Calandriello and Peter Muller are really the faces of Palma Drugstore, the men who greet the public, read our doctor's illegible handwriting, locate our white prescription bags, and man the cashier. But Marisa was the sometimes unseen voice that was making it all happen. She was the expert who worked long hours bringing medication to the people of Park Slope. Marisa's father, Dominick Palma, also a pharmacist, founded the shop in 1962. Dominick died in 1999 and passed the shop on to his daughter, who had worked by his side for many years learning the ropes.
Many in the neighborhood are just starting to learn of Marisa's death. I heard from Community Bookstore owner, Catherine Bohne, who wrote to say: "I thought you should know that Marisa Palma died unexectedly of a
heart attack this week. She was 48. As a member of our community for
a long, long time, her loss is felt deeply, if quietly, by many."
The OTBKB reader quoted above wrote this remembrance:
Palma for fifteen years and always feel that small-town feeling when we
go there. I am sorry about her death and sorry about the direction the
pharmacy profession has gone: I know many fine pharmacists who have
been forced out of their business by chain-store pharmacies and health
insurance regulation of the pharmacy industry. I'd rather pay a few
dollars more to know a pharmacist personally than deal with an
anonymous pharmacist by mail."
I agree. This neighborhood, like many, used to have more local pharmacies. Rite Aid, which came to Seventh Avenue a few years ago, put at least one pharmacist, the one that used to be on the corner of 6th Street and Seventh Avenue across from Methodist Hopsital, out of business. Now the neighborhood has more than its share of drug store chains.
But Palma is the real deal: a pharmacy that, at times, feels like a neighborhood center. It is certainly a place I spend an inordinate amount of time waiting for prescriptions, listening to the latest flu symptoms spiraling around the neighborhood, and stealing a piece of the free hard candy that's always next to the cash register.
Please send your remembrances of Marisa Palma-Muller to louise_crawford(at)yahoo(dot)com and I will post them.