Father’s Day: Beyond the Store
When most people think of my father, Ken, they think of our haberdashery.
They remember the suits and sport coats, the combinations of shirts and ties, the stories and the jokes, plus the conversations that took place over more than sixty years in business. They remember a man who could walk into a room full of strangers and leave with a dozen new friends.
I do too.
But when Father’s Day arrives each year, my mind often goes to moments like this one.
A day on the water. A kind and warm smile that would show his true heart. A bass so large that it quickly became one of his favorite stories to tell.
What I love most about this photograph is not the fish.
It’s the smile.
Dad was there with his best friend of more than sixty years and my stepbrother Russell. For all the success he enjoyed in business, these were the moments that mattered most to him. Time with family and friends. Time creating memories that would become stories told again and again.
And if you knew Ken, you know he never met a story he didn’t like to tell.
To many people, he was a clothier, a visionary, a trusted advisor, and a friend. To my siblings and me, he was simply Dad.
As the years pass, I find myself thinking less about the business accomplishments and more about the time we spent together.
What I miss most are our Fridays.
On those days, it was usually just the two of us in the shop. No other team members. No tailor. Just a father and son spending the day together.
We would greet clients, tell stories, solve problems, and somehow make work feel more like an afternoon spent among friends.
Looking back, it was the smoothest game of catch I have ever experienced.
Without effort, we knew when to jump into a conversation, when to step back, and when to let the other take the lead. We played off each other naturally. The rhythm was seamless.
At the time, it simply felt normal.
Today, I realize how special it was.
There was laughter every day. There was always another story. There was always another lesson hidden somewhere in the conversation.
Dad had a unique ability to make people laugh, think, and feel welcome all at the same time.
I miss those Fridays.
I miss the stories.
Most of all, I miss my dad.
The store bears his name.
The friendships bear his influence.
The lessons bear his legacy.
And for that, I will always be thankful.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad.
— Kory Helfman
Memories of Dad
by Daniel Helfman
Sixty-two years ago, my dad, Ken Helfman, opened a store to sell suits.
The store was in Garland back then. You would push through the door and be greeted by cigarette smoke, the sound of KVIL radio, and my dad in the middle of a story — usually just moments away from delivering the punchline.
Ron Chapman might have been talking about a Chicago dog in the background, and beneath everyone’s feet was a bold Scottish tartan plaid carpet that had absolutely no business being in a store selling Italian and European suits.
It shouldn’t have worked.
And yet, it did.
My siblings and I were children then, and the store felt less like a business and more like a gathering place. People came in to buy a suit, sure, but that often felt like an afterthought. What they were really getting was my dad — his warmth, his humor, and the way he made every person feel like they were the most important one in the room.
That was his real gift.
Sixty-two years later, it remains the foundation of everything the store does.
The shop looks different today. The brands have changed. The fashions have evolved. The location has moved.
But the feeling?
That is still exactly what Dad envisioned.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. We miss you, love you, and think about you every day.
— Daniel Helfman
Lessons from Dad
by Tesa
Working at my dad’s store, Ken’s Man’s Shop, holds some of my most treasured memories.
It truly felt like a second home to me.
I loved spending time there and watching my dad interact with his customers, who he treated more like family than clients. He knew their stories, remembered the details of their lives, and always made them feel valued and appreciated.
It was there that I learned some of the most important lessons about customer service: the value of listening, understanding people’s needs, and treating everyone with kindness and respect.
My dad taught me that great service is about building relationships, not just making sales.
I always knew my dad was exceptional at what he did, but what made me most proud was hearing it directly from his clients.
They would tell me how much he meant to them, how he had helped them over the years, and how much they appreciated his honesty, care, and friendship.
Through their words, I saw the lasting impact he had on so many lives.
Those memories, and the lessons he taught me, continue to influence me every day.
I love you, Dad.
— Tesa
A Legacy That Continues
For many of our clients, Ken was more than a clothier.
He was a merchant maven.
A storyteller.
A friend.
For others, he was the person who helped them prepare for a first interview, a wedding day, a promotion, a graduation, or another important milestone in life.
The clothing mattered.
The relationships mattered more.
Today, we are humbled to continue serving many of the same families who walked through our doors decades ago. Some now shop with their sons and grandsons, creating a new generation of memories.
That continuity is one of the greatest gifts of all.
As we celebrate Father’s Day, we honor not only Ken’s legacy, but all fathers, grandfathers, mentors, teachers, coaches, and role models who help guide the next generation.
From our family to yours, Happy Father’s Day.
Thank you for allowing us to be a small part of your lives for more than sixty years.
— The Ken’s Man’s Shop Family
