This Sunrise Plaza jeweler bids farewell after half a century

In the era of online shopping, Andrew Papandrew, a brick-and-mortar businessman who dedicated his life to the craft of jewelry-making and repair, finds himself a dying breed.

His store, nestled on Sunrise Plaza, has stood there since he inherited the building from his father, a World War II naval veteran-turned-watchmaker, who opened the shop in 1967.

“I graduated college in May of 1973. I got married in August, and I started working for my father in October,” said Papandrew. “And the rest, as they say, is history.”

But now after roughly 50 years, Papandrew is relentlessly clearing out every glittering stone, necklace, and ring sitting in his display cases and displayed behind his glass walls at “escalated discounts.” With both his sons taking a pass on the business, Papandrew Jewelers Inc. is left without a current and willing heir and is closing.

Weeks away from the store’s storied end and from the start of a long-awaited retirement, Papandrew believes small businesses like his, with craftsmen like himself, are vanishing and taking decades of expertise, dozens of local business relationships, and a familial legacy with them. Yet he understands the hurdles of sustaining a small business better than most.

“Retail is tough. If you experience any part of it, you know it’s a challenging environment,” he said. “It’s been blown up by Amazon and the internet but having this business for so long” lends you trust and credibility among customers. And whenever you encounter a fussy customer questioning whether to leave their prized possessions with him, noted Papandrew, he need only remind himself how long he’s been in this business.

Timeless craft, timely goodbye

Though the son of a watchmaker, there is a reason he turned down taking up his father’s horology trade in favor of jewelry, the opulent glitz of the product notwithstanding. 

“They’re two disparate trades,” said Papandrew. “Watchmaking is slow and quiet. The jewelry is sometimes cacophonous, requiring brute force, flames, rocks, and chemicals. The trades don’t mix.”

But beyond the technical skills honed over time, trust is the core promise underlying every business exchange he makes, argued Papandrew. It is not something he takes lightly. 

“When you’re dealing with people’s most valuable possessions, they’re trusting you,” said Papandrew. “You have to earn that trust by doing good work and taking care of their belongings.”

And that trust has been well-earned as evidenced by the sheer number of times Papandrew’s products or services have become a vital part of Valley Stream residents’ “happy occasions.”

“I can say my rings have been to more weddings and vows than anybody else in Valley Stream except maybe a priest,” he said, who has enjoyed being part of Valley Stream residents’ special moments as a family generational jeweler. The jeweler plays a unique role in preserving history, namely maintaining precious stones and accessories passed on from generation to generation, noted Papandrew.

His trade, however, like his business, is disappearing. And unlike your regular 9-to-5 job, he describes it as “all-encompassing” where time-intensive dedication is necessary to become decent in your craft. It is a profession not aptly suited, he believes, for the fast-paced, instant-driven demands of modern life.

Setting his sights to close by the end of July, Papandrew has considered it nothing less than an “honor to be part of people’s most important moments in Valley Stream.”

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