Clothes Encounter

Under new ownership, a local Laundromat is more than a place to wash clothes. It's a gathering spot for a community.

By Ellen Sung, Staff Writer

It had been a while since Patricia Grant had been to Soapy's, and she couldn't believe its transformation.

Lucy Kaufman works to keep Soapy's reputation high by keeping the laundromat clean and well-stocked. Photo by Matt May.

Photo by Matt May

The old Soapy's looked a lot like the other Laundromats in Childs Park. They are housed in weathered concrete huts and strip malls that have seen better days and better business. Before the remodeling, some old washers at Soapy's were literally falling apart with rust; others had been patched with duct tape.

Now there were all-new machines, new paint, new tiles. There were machines where customers could buy drinks and snacks and washing detergent. There were two big cable televisions for the adults, a pint-sized one for children and video games. And most importantly, there was air conditioning.

For the first time in her life, Patricia Grant was washing her clothes in comfort.

A few quarters at a time, the customers at Soapy's are contributing to something much more than just a Laundromat. They're investing in their community, building a safe space to congregate.

When you can't afford a washer and a dryer, the Laundromat becomes a necessity of life. It takes the place of the back porch, the utility room, the closet by the bathroom. Customers migrate to Soapy's from all over the city because it feels more like home.

They notice the televisions, the books left out for the children. But there's also a noticeable absence: there's nothing broken, nothing worn, nothing dirty. In a neighborhood that most outsiders—and some insiders—know for its drug trade, the Laundromat is a safe haven where residents can breathe a little easier.

Grant decided that taking the time to write was the least she could do. So she grabbed a piece of paper and carefully penciled a letter to the new owners. “I [would] like to take the time to tell you THANKS,” she wrote. “I am sitting here while my clothes wash and enjoying it. [Would] you believe that smile?… I see you thought about the little ones as well as the big ones.

“If you should need anyone to do anything around here from time to time, please let me know. I am not asking to be [paid],” she wrote. “You [taking] the chance you have is payment enough.”

That kind of reaction is a lot more than Skip Rennell and fiancée Lucy Kaufman expected when they bought the Laundromat. They were just trying to find the right investment for their retirement years, a good business location with favorable demographics and room for growth.
Little did they know that the investment would bear dividends far beyond the financial. When Rennell took over the Laundromat last fall, he discovered that the business meant a lot more to customers than he had thought. As he canvassed customers to get suggestions for the renovations, he met one elderly gentleman who made a comment that Rennell still keeps with him.

“He said, ‘Skip, this might be your business, but it's our Laundromat. This Laundromat is an extension of our home,'” Rennell recalled. “And that's really true. It's our business investment, but it's everybody's laundry room.”

Jordan Rogers washes his clothes exclusively at Soapy's. "I like it because it's clean and everything's convenient," Rogers said. "I just enjoy it."

Photo by Matt May

$230,000 worth of remodeling later, Rennell, Kaufman and the rest of the staff labor to keep the Laundromat in immaculate form. Three thousand pounds of laundry are washed at Soapy's on any given day, and Rennell—whom Kaufman describes as “very meticulous about everything”—pounces on anything that needs to be fixed. A maintenance employee spends an hour cleaning the store four or five times a day on the weekends.
“You've just to go take care of it right away,” Rennell said. “If you allow it to get run down, people see you don't care and it just encourages them to keep doing it.”

The care shows. The Laundromat stays open 24 hours a day, and the door is never locked. It's the kind of place where customers can leave a laundry basket unattended for an hour, even if it's filled with supplies. Children play safely in the Kids' Zone while their parents do laundry. The employees are neighborhood people, customers whom Rennell and Kaufman met at the Laundromat.

One Tuesday morning at 8 a.m., Susa Williams is here sorting laundry after finishing her overnight shift at Bayfront Medical Center. She will fill seven or eight triple-load washers with laundry from the last two weeks.

One reason she comes is because the machines wash a little faster at Soapy's. Older machines take 30 to 35 minutes for a wash; at Soapy's, it's a brisk 23 minutes to clean clothes. “You want to spend as little time as possible doing laundry,” said Williams, who holds down a second job at Kash n' Karry. “I'm out of here in a couple of hours.”

And, like almost all of the other customers, she met Rennell and Kaufman when they introduced themselves to her.

Interacting with the community had been a concern to the new owners. They knew they had a great facility. But how would the heavily African-American community respond to them as white business owners?

“I felt a little uncomfortable, because I've never lived in a place that's so segregated,” said Kaufman.

So they drew on their experiences working with people to put the customers more at ease. For 26 years, Rennell had been a commercial banker, offering loans to the same sorts of businesses as the one he is now tackling. Kaufman has worked as a family and mental health counselor since moving to Seminole three years ago.

Mable Moore works at Soapy's folding clothes five days a week. She loves the laundromat and the people who are constantly buzzing between washers and dryers.

Photo by Matt May

Rennell began introducing himself to every single customer that came into the Laundromat. If you could make one change around here, he would ask, what decision would you make?

“They make you feel like part of the family,” said Elaine Owens, who used to travel from southeast Pinellas County to do her laundry at Soapy's. She has moved closer, and remains a loyal Soapy's patron.

“Besides, they've got my children's pictures on the wall,” she says with a small, proud smile, pointing across the room to a montage of photographs from the Laundromat's grand opening in December.

“Sometimes they're a little gun shy at first,” Rennell said. “But boy, you spend five minutes talking to somebody and you can make a friend out of people very quickly if you're nice to them.”

“We probably have had our necks hugged and our hands shook in that neighborhood more than I have anywhere else in my entire lifetime.”

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