McKeesport Candy Co. Sells Sweet Nostalgia
Written by Suzanne Martinson, Post-Gazette Food Editor
Published by Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, October 31, 2002
Today is Halloween, and Thanksgiving is coming up. So the order wasn't that odd: 30 pounds of candy corn. But this was a desperate man. Though he'd moved to Ireland, he couldn't survive autumn without his candy corn.
Shipping that candy abroad cost more than the candy itself, but what could Jon Prince do? He is vice president of McKeesport Candy Co., which for 76 years has prided itself on serving anybody with a sweet tooth.
"People take candy corn very seriously. It had to be Brach's," Prince says.
Halloween is prime time for candy sales, followed by Easter, Christmas and Valentine's Day, says general manager Tom Griffin.
Gerald and Jon Prince
The Jimmy-Crack-Corn in Ireland is probably biting into a kernel right now. His candy corn cost him $29.90 for each 10 pounds, but when a guy's got a craving, nothing else will do.
"What is food? It is memories," Price philosophizes. "The calls always start off with, 'When I was a kid ...'"
And never so much as after the horrendous events of Sept. 11 or the random sniper shootings around Washington, D.C. Kids have often turned to candy. Today's adults want the candy they remember from childhood.
"It's comfort," Prince says.
As it re-creates the past for some customers, McKeesport Candy Co.--its 20,000 square feet of candy choices sits on McKeesport's Fifth Avenue -- is firmly into the present, too, with its third generation. Although the distributor closed its Trifles candy store in Station Square last December, it had opened an online candy store dubbed McKandy.com two years ago.
Recently, the company was selected to be the online distributor for Brach's Candy, which has moved its plants to Mexico.
The Princes' company does not make candy; it distributes it for candy-makers such as Mars, Hershey, Jaret, Willy Wonka (Nestle), Tootsie and Amurol Confection.
More than $2 billion worth of candy will be sold for the witching hour this year, according to the National Confectioners Association.
America's penchant for feeding its sweet tooth continues unchecked, but McKeesport's customers have changed over the years. When Ernest Prince started the company in 1927, it seemed as though there was a mom-and-pop confectionery on every corner. Today, one-stop supermarkets and convenience stores have most of the candy market, though specialty, high-end candy stores are creeping back into consciousness.
At a time when we have to put "penny" candy in quotes, the candy supplier still has a wall-full of choices, some of which winds up as "loose candy" sold in bulk in groceries and chain stores.
Always there is innovation. How else to explain Peachy Penguins or Gummi Cola? More conservative thinkers may go for chocolate bats, cats, rats and "jacks" (jack-o'-lanterns to me and you).
President Reagan was happy with a bowl of plain Republican fruit-flavored Jelly Bellys in the Oval Office, but today's White House inner circle could opt for margarita, caffe latte, buttered popcorn or peanut butter.
"When people meet me, they tell me I've got their dream job, and I guess I do," says the ever-effervescent, candy-loving Prince.
Not that he eats that much himself. But he sure loves talking about it. He's on a first-name basis with perhaps 2,000 candies.
And the best sellers? The favorite chocolate candies -- Snickers, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, M&Ms --can be supplanted by novelty candy for a time, but then the old favorites are back. What will be the next big fad? Nobody knows but the kids.
"Kids are very fickle -- the fad can last a month or six months," says Griffin.
Nostalgic adults still buy Necco Wafers, Heath Bars, Mallo Cups, Satellite Wafers and Bit O'Honey.
"People will come in here from Florida and buy a couple boxes of Clark bars," Griffin says. Once a Pittsburgh icon, Clark bars -- there are 36 in a box -- are now made in New England by Necco.
Prince says of 31-year veteran Griffin, who commutes from West View: "Nobody knows more about candy than he does."
When he joined the candy company, Griffin says, there were twice as many distributors. "Now there's maybe 10," he says.
"It used to be a cutthroat business, but now everybody has found a niche."
McKeesport Candy Co.'s niche is guaranteed freshness. Their candies are turned over quickly, some as often as every two weeks; few stay more than six months. It is a selling point for the company brand, Todd, that began in 1957.
An operation like McKeesport, which employs from 17 to 20 employees, depending on the season --hot weather is bad for candy sales -- can be thrown for a loop by requirements such as enactment of the national labeling laws, which required that they had to create more than 2,000 labels.
Prince remains svelte for a guy let loose in a candy warehouse. "I can't eat 10 pounds, but I can eat five," he confesses. "During the week, I don't have any candy. If I had one M&M, I'd want to have 20."
Exercise helps the food-lover stay in shape, he says, admitting he'd trade his kid-in-the-candy-shop reality to become a restaurant reviewer.
He grew up in the candy shop, just as his father, Gerald "Jerry" Prince, did. Jerry, 74, now semi-retired, remains the company's president. The two of them took the photos for their Web site, www.CandyFavorite.com.
Another niche staked out by the company is its fund-raising candy. Jon Prince, now 35, got a hands-on, back-bending introduction to it when he was a student at Ohio University and began selling candy to fraternities and sororities to raise money for their chapters. It was a good fit. "I like candy, and I like to sell," he says.
So he was understanding when his cell phone rang one Saturday night at a restaurant dinner. The customer asked whether a package of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups has two cups or three. "I answered her question -- this way, she didn't have to worry about it until Monday morning."
He was less tolerant when a frat man called about making money selling candy -- at 3 a.m. He told the man the prices would be much better if he called during business hours.
Prince didn't return to the family business right after college. An art history and organizational communication major, he spent 1989 as a spokesman for the visual arts program for the National Endowment for the Arts.
After that year of playing political gamesmanship, the candy business must have seemed sweeter than ever. He returned 13 years ago to start the fund-raising division for schools and churches.
In a week's time, Griffin says, the company probably brings in 10,000 to 12,000 pounds of bulk candy to be packaged, either under its own label or with custom labels. Tonight, someone at your mall may hand out packages of personalized candy corn to lucky trick-or-treaters.
But enough business talk. What is the favorite candy (in order of seniority)?
Jerry Prince: "Milky Ways. I ate them every day while in the Army during the Korean War. Now I eat two Hershey's Kisses every day."
Griffin: "He can't pick just one."
Jerry Prince: "I have several--licorice of all sorts, bridge mix, Caramel Creams."
Jon Prince: "Licorice Snaps. It's a service business, but you can't take it too seriously," he says. "Who can be serious when you're selling candy called Toilet Plunger?"
Retail customers are welcome at McKeesport Candy Co., 1101 Fifth Ave., McKeesport. Phone: 412-678-8851
