Tony Bargains: Drug Addict Turned Altruistic Store Owner
Tony’s Bargain Basement on 187th Street in the Belmont section of the Bronx is hard to miss. The small garage-sized building is squeezed between a bodega and an auto body shop; cars frequently pull in and out. Merchandise pours into the street: baby clothes hang off a green mini-van parked in front and folding tables with anything from old Nikes to Boomboxes litter the space around the front door. In the midst of the seemingly chaotic sight is Anthony Cody, the 50-year-old proprietor of the establishment. He’s an outlandish Sopranos-esque man. His signature: a large silver cross that dangles from his neck. To locals he’s known as Tony Bargains.
I first visited Tony’s in early June. I was trying to find an inexpensive mirror to compliment my living room. To be frank, I had some preconceived notions about Mr. Cody due to his raspy voice and wry grin. At first examination I figured he was a “wanna-be mafioso,” a shyster who would try to squeeze every penny out of me. This impression quickly changed when I grabbed an ornate looking holy book and asked him its price.
He shrugged his shoulders and responded in his animated - almost comically - thick Bronx accent, “I don’t sell religious texts. You can’t put a price on da Lord.” Without a flinch, he proceeded to share with me his story of conversion, from an imprisoned crack addict to a pious business owner dedicated to serving his fellow man.
Mr. Cody was released from prison back in 2007, after nearly 20 years behind bars due to drug related offenses. He traces his troubles back to his childhood, which he described as “very tough.”
He lamented, “my father died when I was nine years old and basically my mother did too. My family had a lot of money, so everyone was like ‘we’ll take the baby, we’ll take the baby,’ but once the money was gone nobody wanted the baby no more.”
He was raised by his grandmother and ultimately found “refuge” in a criminal element whereby he sold and used crack-cocaine. “I thought I was a wise guy,” he told me.
Like most ex-convicts, his release from prison eight years ago did not immediately translate into a happy, substance-free life. Mr. Cody explained that it took many nights of boozing and sleeping on park benches before he had his epiphany: he was going to change his life and the world. Of all places his saving grace was a crack den on Boston Road in the Allerton section of the Bronx. It was there where Mr. Cody decided he would begin his new mission.
“These people overpowered this old lady and turned her house into a crack house … I wanted to help, so basically I took that crack house and made a store out of it,” he said.
Mr. Cody cleaned up the house, painted, and built make-shift shelves on which he placed food and clothing for the poor. He envisioned a place where people in need – people who were like him – could get a helping hand when they were down on their luck. This vision was made possible through the help of local business. Today, he credits most of the donations to members of the community. He also buys storage units.
Ultimately the store became a sort of community outreach center - a place for the downtrodden to get help – whether with a meal, affordable clothes for a job interview, or a ride to the detox center. As Tony puts it, it’s a reflection of the way things used to be:
“The old days – when people took care of each other, where you came and said, ‘Ton’ I lost my job, look at my shoes.’ I didn’t say another word; I went into the back and got you a pair a paints, a suit [and] some shoes. That’s the way it used to be, that’s the way it should be.”
About two years ago Mr. Cody had to relocate due to foreclosure of the original store’s building. It put him in quite the bind: a store full of stuff and strict deadline to move out. The bank was offering him a buy out and if he didn’t pack up his stuff and leave by February he’d lose it. That buyout money was vital to his procurement of a new location. To sum it up: he needed to find a new place quick.
“I’m gonna tell ya something and I mean it in my heart – Jesus brought me here,” he told me with a somber grin.
“I went down to look at this place down on Park Avenue; it was like a garage. But I [thought] worst come to worst we can just pile everything in there.”
On his way back home from the place on Park Avenue he got lost. And by “God’s Grace” he stumbled upon a for rent sign on the window of the smaller space on 187th Street. He called up the owner, Benny, and in a few weeks he moved in.
Despite the location change, the heart of Tony Bargains has remained the same: bringing hope to a community riddled with crime and poverty. On any given day you'll find Mr. Cody handing out meals and exuberantly greeting locals—no hands shakes, only hugs. He's a man of the community, and he's never shy to sing the praises of his so-called "partners."
"Like a nice gentleman like this.” He called over a delivery man walking down the street. “Come here stop here for a second. This gentleman works for Boar’s Head; he cared enough about Christmas, he helped me make a Christmas here ... and I got pictures!” He brought them out to show me.
"I took this sidewalk right here, and I put two three tables together and I fed this whole neighborhood. And if I showed you where I cooked you'd never believe."
He proceeded to take me to the back of the store. Behind a black door with a sign that read “Do Not Enter" was his "sanctuary," three rooms—a bedroom, a bathroom, and a small closet-sized kitchen—all of which Mr. Cody built. The bathroom in particular struck me, a sink, toilet, and a mirror. No shower. He told me he doesn’t need one: “for 19 bucks a month I can shower, rejuvenate myself and work out at Planet Fitness, it’s amazing,"Mr. Cody exclaimed.
I was amazed by his ability to live so modestly and the error in my original judgement. This wasn’t a man trying to finagle money out of passers-by, but rather a kind soul trying to fulfill a role in a community that he couldn’t find when he needed it.
When I asked him about finances, he politely cut me off, saying, “Listen, sure I keep books, but for me it’s not about the money, it’s about something greater.” Ana Cruz, a young woman inspecting a pair of heels, overheard our conversation and agreed. She referenced a transaction earlier that day. “Where else are you going to get six articles of clothing for five bucks,” she inquired.
He said he’s blessed to have his landlord, Benny, whom he describes as a dear friend and the true hero behind Tony Bargains.
Benny told me over the phone, “When I saw what Tony was doing, I fell in love – so I gave him a chance.”
Mr. Cody emphasized that Benny doesn’t care too much about rent as long as he is kept up on what’s going on in the neighborhood and the good work Mr. Cody is doing.
Tony’s Bargain Basement is open seven days a week. Tony’s there waiting, ready to give you a shirt off the rack, or his own back.
