Segalla Packs It In at Stateline Packy

NORTH CANAAN — When Stanley M. Segalla followed his heart and started a business of his own, Harry Truman was president, the Korean war was about to begin, and the first color television broadcast license had just been issued.

That was all in 1950.

The last 56 years have seen dramatic changes in the world. But the Stateline Package Store, and the gregarious Segalla behind the counter, remained in their own little world.

The longtime business closed its doors Dec. 2.

Segalla can point out lots of changes: new equipment, a couple of additions, more wines.

But a visit to the Ashley Falls Road store (not far from the state line, and next door to his home) before it closed found things looking much as they did in a photo on the wall when Segalla and his wife, Anita, posed for Tom Zetterstrom’s camera in 1973. Behind them, whiskey brands occupy the same shelf spaces. A remarkable antique cooler holds chilled beverages.

A baseball’s throw from the shop is Segalla Field, named in honor of Canaan’s two Stanley Segallas, for their support of Little League and other local baseball leagues. Moving to the Center of Town

The shop is awaiting its new owner — and a new location. The Department of Consumer Protection approved a liquor license Dec. 7 for Christopher Battista of Winchester, who has only to file paperwork, such as a bill of sale for the business and a copy of his lease from Segalla.

Battista currently owns Ledgebrook Spirit Shop in Winsted. As soon as his permit is finalized, he plans to reopen Stateline Package for one day.

"By law, we have to operate one day, then we can voluntarily suspend the license. We plan to reopen next to the Stop & Shop. The new stores there are supposed to be finished by next April or May. I considered staying open in the meantime, but I just don’t have the staff right now," Battista said.

Battista plans to use some variation of the Stateline name for the new store. He asked Segalla, only half-jokingly, if he would come to work for him. At the age of 92, Segalla is giving up the business with more than a little reluctance.

He’s not sure what he’ll do without it. But a buyer is an opportunity he does not want to pass up.

"You never know what’s going to happen. I’m happy, at least, that I can sell it while it's still my decision, and not because I can’t run the place anymore."

He is proud to claim having had the longest continuous liquor license in the state. An award issued in 2000 proclaims his record. The plaque hangs near those whiskey bottles. A desk drawer in a corner of the stockroom holds every last annually issued license, neatly filed.

"John Kelly was the liquor commissioner for a long time," he notes, thumbing through the earliest permits that bear his signature. "I never met him, but I feel like he’s an old friend."

North Canaan is allotted only four licenses, Segalla explained. He will have to give his up to allow the new owner to be issued one. Hedging his bets, he planned to hang on to his until the deal was finalized. A Quiet 50 Years

Segalla said that not much stands out in his memories of the more than five decades he was in business.

There was the time a thief dared to break in to the store, which is within view of the state police Troop B barracks. The ghost of the blood he left on the sill of a broken window remains.

A constant over the years were the very faithful customers. He will miss them dearly, Segalla said, noting tastes have not changed all that much. At the beginning, it was gin and beer. Now it’s vodka and beer — and wine, because people no longer make their own.

It was not so long ago that the shop delivered. Out front, a morning glory vine climbs a good way up a telephone pole. The plant has been there "ever since the pole’s been there."

As Segalla looks back, he does so without regrets. "I gave up a very good job at the old Pfizer. I was the paymaster for 300 people. I liked the work, and it paid well. It wasn’t like I had nothing to lose. I knew it was going to be sink or swim, but all I wanted was to be my own boss."

The first hurdle was the high-pressure salesmen.

"They wanted me to start with cases, but the A&P manager had given me tips on how to buy. I told them I didn’t know if I’d be there a week. I was buying by the bottle."

He chuckles at memories of setting the ground rules from the beginning. He has outlived them all, and misses some who became welcomed friends.

He also can’t help smiling at the memory of being called a "damn fool" for leaving a secure job.

He believes he has outlived all those naysayers, too. More important: He can simply say he was a success, happy in his work, and his own man.