Produce with Appeal: The Story of Top Banana
Story by Nicholas Reiner, November 11, 2015
Eric and Mike drive down the 5 Freeway towards Orange County with a load of produce in the back of the Top Banana commercial truck. It is raining and the freeways are slick at five in the morning. Eric drives slowly because of the load. Suddenly, they feel a huge jolt and Eric loses control of the truck. The truck, hit by an SUV, starts careening towards the embankment. Mike flies around the cab like a rubber ball as Eric uses his whole body to maintain control and not smash the truck into the embankment.
At Top Banana Produce, Greta gets a call from the California Highway Patrol. Otto, her father and storeowner, is away on vacation. The officer says, “This is the CHP. Your men are fine but nothing else is. You’ve got to come out here to the 5 freeway, near the Atlantic Blvd. off-ramp.”
Greta jumps in her car and races over, listening to a Sig Alert on the way. When she arrives, she sees produce strewn across the freeway lanes—bananas, potatoes, kale, Mexican papaya. Greta marvels at the scene, the colors of the fruit and vegetables sharp against the wet black asphalt. 25 cases of lettuce on the truck are smashed together, flattened into an accordion shape. Eric and Mike look shaken. They’re both sore but OK and Greta is so happy they’re alive. The only thing they manage to save is a box of Chinese peas.
“Did you close that day?” I ask Greta, 27 years later.
“No, you stay open,” she says. “You always stay open.”
The first time I entered Top Banana Produce, I saw the strawberries, sparkling red bursting out of small green baskets on displays near the front door, next to the registers. To my right, I saw displays of honeydew melons and cantaloupe. In front of the store window was the main melon show, wooden stands replete with plump watermelons. The colors of the place were overwhelming. In one survey around the store, I could see plums, oranges, starfruit, bell peppers, fava beans, eggplant, russet potatoes, Gala apples, and bananas, though I wouldn’t have named them all the first visit.
Top Banana was my first real job. I was 16 and I’d heard about the opportunity through a teacher of mine. The store was located in Buena Park, on the corner of Knott and Lincoln Avenues. On my first day, I skinned onions. The brown onion display was near the back room, close to the refrigerator cooler. I used my hands. The onions came in a red mesh bag and I ripped it open. My job was to take off the extra skins of the onions, so they could be ready for purchase. Country music blared from speakers in the store’s ceiling. As we closed the store on my first day, the last thing my co-worker Jen did—after we swept and mopped the floor and put the perishable fruit away in the cooler—was call Otto to tell him we’re closing up and how the day went.
