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"Can I help you?" he asked a customer, Juan Leroy, as he came in. But Leroy didn't need help, and after an hour spent browsing the records, he didn't buy anything. He said friends he is visiting on the island told him about the shop. People visiting City Island often drop in just to take a look at Roberge's collection of old records. He estimates that he has more than 100,000 of them, each indexed according to the artist's name, genre and nationality.
Roberge's friend Ron Terner, an artist who set up the Focal Point Gallery at the same time that Roberge set up his records shop, says that when they moved in, the island had the look and feel of the 1940s. It seemed as if the '70s had not yet set in there, Terner says. Although City Island has changed over the years, residents want to keep its past alive. When New York City replaced street lights here in December 2001, the residents made sure the new ones were similar to the ones that used to be there since the early part of 20th century. <Click here to take a photo tour of City Island> While
the boat business is declining, and the marinas are being replaced
by modern condos, there are a few houses with wells fitted with
manual pulleys to draw water.
It is difficult to make him talk about his personal life. "I am from Maine, yup; came to New York when I was 15 years, yup; started out as an elevator operator," he pauses and ends his personal story saying softly, "It is the story of most people's life." But his voice becomes loud when he talks about the 30-piece bands, opera and jazz music of the '30s and '40s. There isn't much music he doesn't like, except folk, the one-guy-with-guitar stuff. He's more into big band music, and "exciting Latino music with conga drum beats," he says. When he is not listening to his favorites on the turn-table in his shop, he goes to rehearsals of performing artists in Bronx. "I can never get enough music," he says.
Roberge becomes animated when talking about such people. He recounts a story of how he caught a man trying to shove a few records inside his shirt. The man's girlfriend pleaded with Roberge for half an hour before Roberge let them go, he said, glowering. His voice also rises to a feverish pitch when he talks about people questioning the price of the records. While the standard fare is $20, Roberge will give a 50 percent discount on some. But he sells a select few for $100. He makes his money mainly from bulk purchasers seeking to fill a gap in their collection. He talks fondly of a Japanese customer who buys thousands of dollars worth of records from him to sell in his home country. Three years ago, Roberge tried to strike a bargain with a 90-year-old man in Maine for his records, but did not get a good price. He says the man had 20,000 of them. He says the old man is dead now and this time when Roberge goes to Maine, he will get them, he said, with a glint in his eye.
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oger
Roberge sat reclining on his 
ooncurser
Records and Roberge, 82, are fixtures on City Island. The store
fits the quaint and exclusive island. Customers will find vinyl
records and sheet music, but no CDs or cassettes.
nd
Roger Roberge is another island. He lives alone, three blocks away
from his shop. His wife and three children left him more than 20
years ago because they didn't like the idea of running a store selling
vinyl records and sheet music in an island. Roberge says, "I
am very happy to be alone. Much better for me this way."
