Like most college towns, the relationship between Swarthmore College, its students, and the Borough of Swarthmore is at its best one of cooperation and beneficial coexistence, and at its worst is one of mutual antipathy and disdain. Few institutions in the borough represent this long and fraught history and its ebbs and flows as well as the Swarthmore CO-OP. What makes this story striking is the CO-OP’s readiness to weather and adapt to these tensions in the relationship between the college and the Ville as they arose and changed over the past century.
The CO-OP was founded in 1932 by about a dozen local families as a buying club to secure inexpensive, fresh produce during the height of the Great Depression. Initially, the families met in the basement of the Morse family home on Elm Avenue. Among these early members were several faculty (the families of Professors Keighton and Wilcox were instrumental in the founding), and, from the beginning, at least one professor served on the board.
In 1935, the successful CO-OP was incorporated in Pennsylvania and relocated to 121 Park Avenue, the present home of the Swarthmore town hall, library, fire department, and police department, which, before the CO-OP moved in, was simply a residence. In 1936, it moved again, briefly to Ridley, before settling, in 1937, at 401 Dartmouth Avenue in a former Chevrolet dealership, garage, and gas station. That same year, Samuel Ashelman ’37, a graduating senior at Swarthmore, took over as manager, living with his wife above the store. Prior to running the CO-OP, Ashelman and his wife (they were a Matchbox couple) traveled to Europe to see co-ops in Norway and Sweden. Upon taking over, Ashelman quickly moved to orient the CO-OP toward the needs of the consumer and the business, bringing in a coffee grinder and a cash register.
Ashelman told The Phoenix that the chief aim of the CO-OP was, like all CO-OPs, “protection of the consumer.” Under Ashelman, the CO-OP aimed to ingratiate itself with Swarthmore students by sponsoring a fashion show in Bond Memorial Hall. When Ashelman assumed his role, the CO-OP had a membership of about 150 families in and around Swarthmore. At the time, he said several college faculty members and students had stock in the association. Business would quickly pick up — each week following Asheman’s installation as manager in September showed a 25% increase in volume of business over the previous week. This was, of course, likely linked to the beginning of the school year, the return of students to campus, but it also allowed the store to expand, with then Swarthmore College senior, Earl Edwards ’36, beginning to work as Ashelman’s assistant.
In his discourse about the value of the CO-OP, Ashelman praised its value, but he was quick to point out that, “[t]he CO-OP is not an economic cure-all, but it is performing a valuable service in protecting the consumer, and in trying to better living conditions in the working class.” Here began a second theme in the CO-OP’s history: the tension between the ostensible goal to provide good food cheaply to members and the demands of some Ville residents and students for the finer things in life.
A Phoenix article in April of 1941 waxed poetic about the cheeses and crackers that could be obtained at the CO-OP, highlighting the variety of “soda to sand tarts and … oatmeal crackers, Dutch Rusk, cheese crackers, and biscuits called Butter Gems.” A well-known CO-OP speciality then, as today, was its cheeses. “Upon these [crackers] can be spread a variety of cheeses also to be had in the CO-OP. Norwegian cream cheese (perhaps a legacy of Ashelman’s honeymoon) with celery, rum cheddar, Swiss Gruyere, limburger and Edam are the more exotic brands, but you can also get plain brick and cream cheese.” Was this a grocery store offering staples for the working class, or a specialty store serving the Ville’s professorial and professional class?
A 1943 Phoenix article recounted the short history of the CO-OP, highlighting continual faculty involvement. “Almost all the faculty belong to the organization,” it said as it broke down the CO-OP’s business structure. In 1943, the CO-OP did almost $156,000 worth of business annually, which allowed it to pay 5 or 6% interest on the stock held by the shareholders. In addition to this interest, it also paid out a dividend at the end of the year, amounting to the remaining profit. This article also took time to emphasize the importance of the CO-OP as a community institution. By that time, it resembled many other grocery stores of its time; what set it apart was the “CO-OP spirit.” Highlights of this spirit were the bulletin board, the headquarters for the “CO-OP Swap Shop,” and signs on the walls stating, “Don’t hesitate to ask for information and assistance.”
In 1945, members of Swarthmore’s student association industrial relations committee hosted the CO-OP manager to speak on the cooperative moment and to spur on college students to help organize co-ops with labor unions.
The ’60s and ’70s were an investing time for the CO-OP. In 1961, The Phoenix informed its readers of a boycott organized by the NAACP against Breyer’s ice cream at the CO-OP and other local establishments that sold it because of the Breyer Corporation’s discriminatory hiring practices. In 1965, the CO-OP was the site of a Ville-wide fire drill organized by the Swarthmore Fire Department. A Swarthmore student noticed the smoke from Magill Walk and was the first to notify the police and fire department. Other Ville residents had what The Phoenix termed a “vision of Armageddon,” fearing “the whole town was about to go up in flames.” In the early ’70s, The CO-OP was the target of an environmental campaign that observed the high levels of phosphates in the Crum Creek and campaigned to have Swatties stop buying phosphate high detergents from the CO-OP, alongside other compensatory measures. As early as the 1970s, the CO-OP was characterized as too expensive, with The Phoenix favorably covering a new co-op on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania that was shown to offer better deals both for average consumers and for membership.
A 1978 issue of The Phoenix documented the trip made by fruits and vegetables from the Philadelphia Food Distribution Center, “the supermarket’s supermarket,” to the CO-OP, having been purchased by a group of Swarthmore students in a van lent to them by the student council. A charming human interest story, the piece recounts gleefully the students’ haggling to get 88 juice oranges for $6.50. The students, having loaded up their van with $300 worth of fresh produce, proceeded to drive back to Swarthmore in the morning hours to the “ubiquitous strains of ‘Saturday Night Fever.’” Upon returning to Swarthmore, the contents of the van were unloaded at 501 Yale Ave, when the CO-OP was still based out of the Clover House. Members of the CO-OP worked in every part of the process, from the “vegrun” itself to unloading, sorting, and labeling the products, and even the maintenance of Clover House. According to the article, members of the CO-OP contributed this work for free, thereby allowing the CO-OP to save over 50% on certain grocery items. However, the average savings, as reported by then-coordinator Helene Van Hoeven, was only 10%. The piece did finish by pointing out the advantages of the system in bringing produce that is fresher and of higher quality to consumers in the Ville, who would be able to purchase produce the same day it was brought to Philadelphia, a much faster turnaround than that of other grocery stores. The story finished by listing a number of Swarthmore professors involved at the CO-OP as well as “numerous students, past and present.”
In a 1979 article titled “Students, faculty address racism,” The Phoenix covered numerous incidents of racism at Swarthmore College, and coverage also drifted off-campus as well. Jackie Brokaw recounted being followed while shopping at the CO-OP because “they [thought she was] shoplifting.”
In 1980, the CO-OP was the site of another fire alarm, this time a real one. An electrical short in the carpenter’s shop above the CO-OP began a fire at 7:45 a.m., urgent enough to bring the fire departments of Swarthmore, Morton, Springfield, and Rutledge. The smoke from the fire could be seen as far away as Willets Hall. With their powers combined, the responding firefighters subdued the fire in fifteen minutes, but the short was bad enough that power would not be restored until the afternoon. Without power, the store’s freezers and refrigerators shut down, which led to the Board of Health ordering all produce and frozen foods to be thrown out. The cost amounted to around $10,000 and was covered by the store’s insurance.
The CO-OP has always been a favorite locale for students making the trek to the Ville. In the 1980s, shopkeepers in the Swarthmore Business District estimated that students accounted for about 10 to 20% of their business. At the CO-OP, the figure was more like 50%. Students, however, shopped at the CO-OP begrudgingly, calling it a “monopoly,” and wishing that other grocery stores were within a more walkable distance. Chief among complaints were price and the limited selection of staples, with sophomore Chris Cohen stating, “not everything is available … nothing in particular, just always little things.” Students, contrary to appearance, were shopping not just for their charcuterie boards, but also for their meat and potatoes. CO-OP manager Greg Byrnes highlighted the challenges of stocking the store: “We’re trying to please everybody: the college, families with six kids, senior citizens. We only have so much space.” Byrnes’ solution: health foods and a more rotational stock. Novelty and the burgeoning fad diets of the ’80s were to be the CO-OP’s salvation. As for whether there were any Patrick Batemans on Swarthmore’s campus to buy all those protein shakes and nuts, The Phoenix remained unsure, but cheerily opined that “if worse comes to worse,” students can always venture to the Ville “to buy a toothbrush.”
Not much has changed in Swarthmore since the ’90s, as far as the Ville’s youthful residents are concerned. In 1994, student Katie Menzer recounted being called a “hot mama” by eleven-year-old Ville youths congregating outside of the CO-OP as she took home a six pack of Diet Coke, one pound bag of oatmeal raisin cookies, and twenty seven boxes of Junior Mints.
In 1998, the CO-OP was a part of a larger conversation about the future of the Ville. What we now see as a vibrant downtown with events, shopping, and eating was, in the late ’90s, seen as broken down, empty, and tired. Owners of businesses in the Ville and Swarthmore Vice President of College and Community Relations Maurice Elbridge formed a task force to address the problem. Businesses like the CO-OP were seen as the anchors of a reinvigorated Ville, and the committee came up with suggestions for a coffee house (the future Hobbs) and for the alignment of businesses’ hours with Swarthmore students’ schedule. Another result of the conversation, which will forever vex Swarthmore students with many heavy textbooks, was the proposition that the college bookstore move “off-campus,” coming to rest, alongside the future Inn in the Ville, and thus drawing students out of the Swat bubble and into town to spend their parents’ hard-earned money. The committee’s study also determined that the CO-OP generated 25% of the Swarthmore Town Center’s revenue.
In 2004, the CO-OP moved from the building it had been in since 1937 to a new building built next door, on land the borough owned. The old CO-OP building was demolished, and Lincoln Way was built. The CO-OP raised 2 million dollars for the building, partly through a $650,000 loan, partly through community fundraising, and partly through a $50,000 donation from the college. The new building was completed under budget and, at 3,000 square feet, was almost twice as large as the old building had been.
A 2009 article in The Phoenix detailed the elimination of a 10% discount that Swarthmore College students received when shopping at the CO-OP. This discount was seen as unfair by the members of the CO-OP board and other denizens of the Ville. Swarthmore students were taken by surprise, and appraised it as a “dumb business decision,” with several stating that the only reason the CO-OP was affordable to them was because of the 10% discount. Then-manager Gerry Greway stated to The Phoenix that Swarthmore students “brightened the whole place up,” and that he hoped to keep their business.
The introduction of the OneCard in 2016 brought students into the Ville to spend the new points at restaurants, but the CO-OP was initially reluctant to join the OneCard system, citing logistical concerns and its larger size relative to other vendors in the Ville.
In 2017, those fighting for the end of Prohibition in the borough indicated that the CO-OP was one of a number of businesses that could benefit from allowing liquor licenses in Swarthmore. Swarthmore had been a “dry” town since the 1930s, with only the Broad Table Tavern allowed to serve alcohol, owing to a 2001 referendum. Swarthmore21, the pro-liquor licensing group, argued that serving alcohol in the town would revitalize the bucolic downtown and encourage residents and students to stay local on weeknights and weekends. Some Ville residents opposed student engagement with the effort, with one stating that he did “have an issue with someone who has been here for four years dictating the rest of the future of [his] community.” On campus, the reintroduction of alcohol to Swarthmore Borough was an issue with bipartisan support; the Swarthmore Democrats and the Swarthmore Conservative Society (unaffiliated with the organization of the same name currently on campus) held a joint tabling session outside of Sharples Dining Hall to gather support for the measure. Ultimately, the referendum was successful, and, after obtaining its liquor license, the CO-OP began selling beer and wine in November of 2020.
I was surprised to learn that the CO-OP only moved into its current building in 2004; I imagined it had been at that corner since time immemorial. Writing this history reminded me that nothing in history is static; why, then, has the CO-OP been such an enduring part of the Ville’s landscape when many other storefronts have seen a rotating carousel of different businesses? I think the main reason is that the CO-OP has constantly changed and adapted to meet the needs of its current time. What is the CO-OP today? The simplest answer is an institution whose story, in many ways, is the story of Swarthmore College in the 20th century, an institution dedicated to the high ideal of improving people’s lives and bringing students and community members together.
