After carefully perusing the racks of shirts before him, Steve Nathan finally settled on a white long-sleeve shirt emblazoned with one of Syracuse University’s many logos. He liked the shirt so much that he decided to buy a second one for his nephew.

Nathan, a former SU lacrosse player and graduate from the class of ’64, says he still visits campus five or six times a year and that every time he visits the Hill, he makes sure to check out the selection at Manny’s, a Syracuse apparel store on Marshall Street.

‘It’s my first stop usually,’ said Nathan, a resident of Fayetteville. ‘I’ve been coming here since 1960.’

For many stores on Marshall Street, tradition plays a vital role in the amount of business they receive.

‘Longevity is always good for the store,’ said Bill Nester, a partial owner of Manny’s. ‘A lot of people come to our store because of the tradition it has.’

For Manny’s, this tradition was built by the dedication the store’s original owners, Emanuel and Lillian Slutzker, had toward providing a store for SU students.

The capacity for such tradition was not always present for Manny’s, but Emanuel Slutzker – Manny, as he was often called – was determined to create it.

Manny grew up in Central New York, in Rome, and was always fond of SU as a child. But instead of receiving a college education, Manny joined the army. For three and a half years, he served overseas in World War II.

During his tour, Manny met a young Hungarian Holocaust survivor named Lillian at a USO dance in England. After the war Manny return to America and for three years wrote letters to Lillian asking her to visit America and become his bride.

Once Lillian gave in to her suitor and came to America, the young couple decided to capitalize on Manny’s love for SU. They had heard an old smoke shop – filled with cigarettes, pinball machines and newspapers – was for sale, and they decided to purchase the Marshall Street location and revamp it.

Manny’s first action as owner was to replace the old inventory with school supplies for students.

‘My husband didn’t have any formal education,’ Lillian said, ‘but he was one of the first people who promoted paperback books.’

Students flocked to Manny’s to purchase these cheaper textbooks and supplies, and the store quickly made a name for itself with the students.

‘All that the students needed,’ Lillian said, ‘he put it in the store.’

But news of the store’s success also made its way to university officials, sparking a war between Manny’s and the university.

‘One official said ‘I aim to put Manny’s out of business,” Lillian said. ‘He threatened that if any professors ordered books from Manny’s, he would fire them.’

Manny, realizing the significance of the threat, donated his remaining textbooks to Onondaga Community College. Still, he was determined to keep his business but was faced with the problem of retaining its popularity.

Manny found his answer in a Rochester-based clothing company. He partnered up with the small business and became the first retailer to offer Champion clothing.

The two companies placed the Syracuse name on Champion sweatshirts and other apparel, and Manny’s regained the business it was in danger of losing. Even after the university trademarked the Syracuse name and forced Manny’s to pay royalty fees, the success of the store did not dwindle. Today, Manny’s continues to sell Syracuse apparel in this format.

For a number of years, Manny remained the store’s front man, while Lillian preferred to stay behind the scenes, keeping the books and working on payroll. When Manny began to grow sick in his old age, Lillian took the reigns of the store and continued to do so until after Manny’s death.

‘I had a lot to learn, so it was a challenge,’ Lillian said. ‘But I surprised myself. I never knew I had such talents. I really enlarged our turnover.’

The first thing Lillian did was reorganize the store. Despite its success, the store was, for the most part, out of date. It was the ’90s, and Manny had still been using a cash register with a handle on its side.

After receiving calls from Syracuse alumni and fans in Ohio and Texas, Lillian decided to branch the store out to a national SU audience and created a mail-order catalog for the store.

Though her efforts brought in large profits for the store, Lillian says she made these changes so her consumers would hold the store in high regard.

‘It was more personal,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t about the money. It was the prestige and the good name.’

Even though she had been involved with the business since its inception, there was much about it Lillian did not know. While she soon grasped the nuances of running a retail store, she was continually surprised by the stories consumers told her about her late husband.

‘When I took the store over, a lot of alumni would come in and say how good Manny was to them,’ she said. ‘They would tell me stories of how Manny would help them out by loaning them five or 10 dollars when they needed it – and this was at a time when money was more valuable. I had no idea that this was even happening.’

Having grown fond of the city and university, Lillian decided to help some students in a regard similar to how Manny had. She donated money to the men’s lacrosse team, creating two lifetime scholarships in her name.

But over time, managing the store lost its luster for Lillian.

‘When Lillian got to be a certain age, she didn’t want to deal with the store anymore,’ Nester said of his former employer.

After selling the store to Nester, she decided she still could give more back to the students of the university. She decided to volunteer at and contribute to the Center for International Services, a university organization that serves as a welcoming mat and home-away-from-home for international students studying in Syracuse.

Lillian, a foreigner herself, identified with the students at the center. Before her involvement in the center, which sits at the corner of Waverly and Walnut avenues, the building held little more than a few university classroom desks and chairs, said Patricia Burak, the center’s director.

Though the staff at the center was hospitable, the limited resources made it difficult for students to feel at home in the building. Slutzker soon changed that, refurnishing the building with flowers, couches, tables, paintings, curtains, a baby grand piano and, most recently, a 42-inch plasma-screen television. The bulk of her estate, Slutzker says, will go to the center.

‘She made it possible for us to be much more hospitable,’ Burak said. ‘Now we have such a nice center.’

Slutzker’s contributions were not only material. Once a week, Lillian leads an English conversation group with a number of foreign students. She also hosts a table at the center’s Thanksgiving and offers up her kitchen as a place for students to cook meals from their home cultures.

The university honored Lillian in 2000 by renaming the center after her and her late husband.

‘I’m very proud of it, but I wasn’t in it for the accolades,’ Lillian said.

Her involvement in the center, Lillian says, is a result of her patriotism. While she had at first been reluctant to come to America, she grew to love the country. Her motives lie in creating ambassadors for America and SU.

‘Who’s a better ambassador for our country than a student who goes back to his country and says, ‘I’ve learned all this in America?” Lillian asked.

The relationship between the Slutzkers and the university may not have always been amicable, but in the Lillian and Emanuel Slutzker Center they have found a middle ground.

‘She reminds me of Zsa Zsa Gabor,’ Burak said. ‘She’s 85 years old and full of energy. She’s an amazing woman.’

Published on September 19, 2004 at 12:00 pm