Sam Pushin was a Russian Jew. He came to Warren County around the turn of the last century, when horses, wagons and buggies were still the mode of transportation.

As was the case with many who came to our shores, he regarded his adopted country as the “land of opportunity.”

As soon as he could buy a horse and wagon, he found a good source of cooking utensils, an item he knew rural women needed. The merchandise would arrive in Bowling Green by rail.

Mr. Pushin had special racks and bins built onto his wagon, and he would load it down and head for the surrounding counties, most of which did not have rail service and where such merchandise was not available.

He continued to work long and hard, later opening a store in Bowling Green. The store was a success.

Still later, he built Pushin’s Department Store, the largest department store in Bowling Green, one that was, at the time it was built, very modern and ahead of its time.

I can recall my first visit to the store years later, in 1949, when I first came to Bowling Green. By then, Mr. Sam Pushin had died and his relatives ran the store.

I never knew Mr. Pushin, but I became good friends with his nephews, and I could tell some good stories about them, especially Louis, whose estate I later handled in my work as an attorney.

Over a period of several years, during which I represented him in legal matters, he would keep my secretary in “stitches.” One time he would call in a high-pitched French accent and identify himself as “Lois De Push.” Another time he would use a gruff Russian accent and identify himself as “Louis Pushkin” – that’s another story.

Mr. Sam Pushin’s life was a Horatio Alger story waiting to be written, and he was respected in the community and very highly regarded for his business acumen.

One day, while Mr. Sam was scurrying about the store, making sure that the business was “humming,” a middle-aged couple came in. The husband stated that he needed to talk with Mr. Sam, that he wanted Mr. Pushin’s advice on something.

Mr. Pushin never regarded himself as a consultant. In his own mind he was just a hard-working businessman, trying to make a living.

The husband pursued the matter, “Mr. Sam, I am thinking about buying a car, and I thought you might tell me what you think I ought to buy.”

Mr. Pushin, by this time, had at least indulged himself in the luxury of a passenger car, but he had studied the market and various cars on the market before buying one.

Mr. Pushin had never learned to speak English without his heavy Russian Jewish accent and, in spite of his accumulated wealth, could neither read nor write English very well, but he could make a quick business decision, and he gave the man who had inquired a quick answer:

“Just stick with the one of the four P’s – Packard, Pierce, Pontiac or Puick.”