Documentary captures bizarreness of the Bazaar

IF YOU NEVER set foot in the Bazaar, it's tough to understand its place in Delaware County's collective memory, and why the question "Remember the Bazaar?" can still set off an hour-long discussion 17 years after its doors closed.

The Bazaar of All Nations, as it was formally named, was a massive indoor shopping center on the border of Upper Darby and Clifton Heights, a blue-collar precursor to the modern mall.

Built in 1960 on the grounds of an old mental hospital, the Bazaar was a semi-surreal maze of pegboard, wood paneling, chicken wire and miles of fluorescent lights.

Wander around long enough and you'd find what you needed. Maybe it was a part for your broken lawn mower or school supplies for your kids. Maybe just a cold beer and a soft pretzel from Bernie's. Or maybe your future wife.

Dubbed the "Twilight Zone" by some local cops, the Bazaar was part farmer's market, part carnival and part something unique that seems difficult to identify today through the haze of nostalgia.

In the new documentary "Bazaar of All Nations," director Melissa Whitely and co-producers Patrick Manley and Brendan O'Riordan delve into why the Bazaar was not merely an early shopping mall but the "center of the universe" for some suburban-Philadelphia residents.

The documentary, which features never-before-seen photos and video footage, premieres tonight at Lansdowne's Cinema 16:9 and will be available on DVD next week.

"People would break down in tears about their experiences at the Bazaar," Manley said. Most of its merchants, he said, described their years there as "the greatest time of their life. They cherished that time more than anything else they've ever done."

Manley is an editor in medical publishing; O'Riordan, a chemical engineer. Each is a 33-year-old Collingdale native with a childhood full of Bazaar memories.

The Monsignor Bonner grads teamed up with Whitely, of New Jersey-based White Lyte Productions, and began to search for Bazaar memorabilia and dig through newspaper archives for articles and undeveloped photos. They filmed about 45 hours of interviews.

"I think it's the definitive history of the place," O'Riordan said.

But why would anyone still care about this place on Baltimore Pike that no longer exists? Why has the documentary's Facebook page attracted 10,400 fans before its premiere, while only 1,200 people "like" the Springfield Mall's page?

First off, the Bazaar had everything.