It’s a bright, brisk Wednesday morning in the Cumberland neighborhood in Bossier City. The tranquility is pierced by dogs barking, playfully scuffling to determine the alpha in their backyard domain. From down the street comes the muffled sounds of hoes, shovels and conversation as folks tend a community garden.

At the corner of East Third and Thompson streets stands a modest brick building. A faded metal sign on the wall marks where a pay phone stood long ago. An ice merchandiser hums by the front door. Signs and flyers plaster the windows — one promoting a local ministry, one curled up piece of paper seeking information about a missing person, stickers selling cigars, lottery tickets and ICEEs, neon Bud Light signs. An American flag dangles from the awning, waving in the cool gentle breeze.   

Some folks drive by slowly, making eye contact with others who mingle on the sidewalk. They just shrug their shoulders and say, “Nah, they ain’t open yet.” The drivers pull away. They will return to check again later. In the meantime, the pedestrians pace anxiously and grumble, “He’s late.”

He is Vince Maggio. And as the sign on the front of the store proclaims, his family has run Maggio Grocery & Deli at 401 Thompson St. since 1923.

Keith Thompson walks across the street to unlock and open the gate that blocks the driveway next to the store. Soon, Maggio turns his pickup into the driveway and disappears behind the building. Moments later, the fluorescent lights inside flicker to life, and Thompson pulls back the bars and unlocks the front door. Maggio’s is open for business. 

After catching his breath, he explains he ran late this day because he was at home caring for his mother-in-law, Josephine Peters. Maggio won’t even consider any other option for her, even if it makes him late for work. He doesn’t believe in nursing homes, he says.

Inside the store, Maggio utilizes every square inch of space he can. The narrow aisles are lined with shelves stacked with everything from car fuses and fishing hooks to canned chili and snack cakes. The deli is in the back of the store. Thompson is slicing meat and cheese for customers, as well as fixing chili cheese hot dogs and nachos. It’s a one-stop shop in a neighborhood where options do not abound.

Maggio seems to just know what to keep in stock. He should. Like many of his customers, he grew up within walking distance of the store his father and grandfather owned before him — just one block north on Montgomery Street. As a boy, he delivered groceries in the neighborhood on his bicycle.

“I was brought up right here,” he said. “This is my home. I was born at old Schumpert Hospital in Shreveport, brought here and have been here ever since.”

The Maggio family’s roots already ran deep in the Cumberland neighborhood. Vince’s grandfather, Sam Maggio, opened the original store 100 years ago, next door to its current location. Running the store has been a team effort for this close-knit Italian family from the earliest days. That included Vince’s mother, who was a nurse at Bossier Hospital.

“Aunt Grace, Daddy, Uncle Joe, and Momma helped part-time running the store,” Vince recalls. “And Grandma was in here. Grandma died in ’79. Grandpa died in ’71.”

Maggio walks through the store recalling the history — so much he hopes he can remember it all. A photo of the original store hangs over the door to the cooler, which used to be a kitchen. Photos of four generations of the Maggio family hang behind the cash register.

“Grandpa came here and read the Bible, inside and out,” Maggio said. “Every Saturday, right here, with the First Baptist Church preacher, my grandpa would help him write the sermons.”

That faith has been passed down in the Maggio family with the store.

“Jesus is first,” Maggio explained. “Then second, you have your country — USA. Then you have your family.”

That faith also sustained the family when Vince’s daughter, Melissa Maggio, died in a car wreck in 2011.

“She was on her way to church to meet me and her momma,” he said. “I had just talked to her. She got killed in a car wreck on Benton Road. She was 24. That really aged me right there. I was in church, praying on my knees, when they came and touched me and took me to LSU. You can have everything you want, then when a life is gone, you don’t have anything. Only thing you’re going to leave with is your heart and your good name.” 

Vince’s wife, Sharon Peters Maggio, is his full partner in the store, as she is in life. It’s a union that seems more destined than determined.

“They had the oldest store in Bossier, too,” Vince said of his in-laws. “The older Mr. Peters and my grandfather played in Italy together. Mr. Peters and my grandfather were on the same boat from Italy. A week later, they saw each other — didn’t know they were on the same boat. They hugged each other and cried.”

They fought in the Army together before both landing in Bossier City, where both opened a grocery store.

Vince went to Airline High School. Sharon went to Bossier High. They met one night at McDonald’s. 

“It was about 9:30,” Vince said as he recalled that night. “I had to be home by 11. That was my limit. My daddy was strict on us.”

Vince’s friend Pete Glorioso knew Sharon’s father and helped broker the introduction.

“I went to see Mr. Peters before I ever talked to Sharon,” Vince said. “The old Italian way. I talked to her momma and daddy. They were so sweet to me. I didn’t know her daddy and my daddy went to school together.”

They hit it off that night, and 41 years later, they are still together and still running the family business.