Iconic shoe salesman and veteran activist Milton Rubinstein — known as “Mr. Brighton Beach” for his life-long devotion to the seaside town — died on Sunday, just weeks shy of his 91st birthday.
Rubinstein was a fixture at his family-owned Topps/Florsheim Shoe Store on Brighton Beach Avenue between Brighton Sixth and Brighton Seventh streets since the late 1950s — where he was rarely seen without a smile and a shoehorn.
Rubenstein, who co-owned the store with his brother, Saul, was also a member of the Joint Council of Kings County Boards of Trade, where he met Lou Powsner in the 1960s when Brighton Beach and Coney Island were twin neighborhoods trying to stay afloat of turbulent economic and social times.
Powsner, 90, a long-time Coney Island merchant and activist (as well as a columnist for this newspaper), recalled working with Rubenstein to stop developers from encroaching upon their oceanfront claves.
“We fought shoulder-to-shoulder against the overdevelopment of the Trump Village shopping center in the ’60s,” he said.
That fight failed, but Rubenstein left an indelible impression upon his peer as an astute and people-friendly businessman.
“He was very well-liked in the community, he carried top brands and he had a big following,” said Powsner, whose late wife, Irene, bought shoes from Rubenstein.
When not at his store — a tough call since he worked seven days a week — Rubenstein could be found with his trusty toolbox, said his son, Ira.
“He was a handyman who could do any type of handy work — from building bathrooms to installing sheetrock.”
To younger generations, the World War II radio man was simply “Uncle Milty.” One young customer was so smitten by him that she even dragged off her mother for a meeting.
“My daughter just adored him, she found him to be charming, witty, fun and contemporary,” explained Suzanne Friedman, who hot-footed it over to the store in her “nicest” shoes (“They remembered people from their feet, not their faces”), and ended up dating one of his sons.
Still, Rubenstein, an emigre from a part of Russia now known as Poland, was a natural at hawking shoes: his family owned other shoe stores in Williamsburg and Bay Ridge, and his magic tongue was adept at turning strangers into firm friends and faithful customers. The most loyal of them traveled from new homes across the country to chat with him or to be properly fitted for a new pair of Florsheims.
“I have big feet, so he knew just what would make me happy,” chuckled Pat Singer, founder and executive director of the Brighton Neighborhood Association, and a proud Rubenstein fan who had the shoes of all her children — now grown — bronzed by him.
Singer says she found the merchant’s optimism infectious, especially when the going got tough: When Brighton Beach fell prey to a crime wave in the 1970s, it was Rubenstein who lifted her out of her doldrums by telling her, “Things are going to get better.” And when Russians began pouring into the area, it was Rubenstein who hired them.
“We were fighting a war here, and he was one guy who would stay in the frontlines with you,” she said.
Ira recalled that his high-spirited father, who retired at the ripe age of 86, always retained his simple and unspoiled nature even while his star rose as a gritty neighborhood warlock who helped establish his community’s business improvement district — and even received a lifetime achievement award from the city for his trailblazing efforts.
“He was a great dad and a mensch,” he said.
Along with his son and brother, Rubenstein is survived by his sister Florence; children Seth and Cheryl, seven grandchildren and one great-grandchild.
Milton Rubenstein is interred at Beth David Cemetery in Elmont, NY.
