On the Side: Market's old-timers fill plates with memories

On the screen set up off center court at the Reading Terminal Market, the last of the Mohicans were having their say Saturday evening, giving accounts of the old days - the tremble in the rafters when trains still ran above, the buckets kept handy to accommodate the leaky roof, razzing one another, albeit gently, about the drinkability of fresh buttermilk.

The stars mingled with the assemblage - tuxedoed Domenic Spataro, 92, bent but unbowed, who has cut back to six days a week at the sandwich stand now run by his son; the iconic butcher, Harry Ochs, just turning 80, with 62 years of meat-cutting under his belt; and, among others, Carol and Willman Spawn, customers since their first date here decades before their hair turned gray.

The occasion was the unveiling of a documentary called The Reading Terminal Market . . . A Family Portrait. (Actually, it was more an extended, 12-minute trailer, the financing, as producer Don Mitchell noted, still a little short to finish the job.)

If there was a poignant touch of swan song about it, the Merchants' Association's Michael Holahan acknowledged the necessity of getting the old-timers on tape: We hope to have them around a lot longer, he announced, "but we may not have them forever."

A crowd of 300 was on hand for the festivities. In the spirit of seizing the day, they were interrupted by a surprise cameo by Marion "Tootsie" D'Ambrosio (of Tootsie's Salad Express) in blonde-wigged, full-skirted Marilyn Monroe regalia, pulling Harry Ochs to the dance floor for a hug and an 80th-birthday spin.

As befits a hoss of a public market with a century-long reputation to uphold, no food group was spared: The hors d'oeuvres - for goodness' sake - were led off by platter after heaping platter of lamb chops; not lollipop lamb chops, but supremely tender, six-inch, honest-to-goodness, juicy, mustard-and-rosemary-crusted lamb chops prepared by caterer Tim Bellew from chops provided by market butcher Charles Giunta.