by John Jones, Contributor
If you’re a Baby Boomer (or slightly older), you will definitely remember Victoria’s Ladies Apparel/Petko Furs that used to be at East 10th St. and Shadeland Ave. Or maybe you remember the impeccably dressed lady wearing one of her many jet black wigs and bright red lipstick walking along East 10th with her male companion Petko. Her name was Victoria Oluk, and she was my neighbor since 1999. She was born September 1, 1928, and passed away April 4, 2013.
I really got to know her in the summer of 2008. We had a conversation at the fence and she shared that her ex-husband (Petko) was in a nursing home and probably would not be coming home. She also shared that she had been losing her vision for the past seven years due to diabetes and it was getting so bad that she feared walking to the grocery anymore. She asked me to get food for her two cats who had been eating nothing but rice for a month, so I immediately went to the store and bought the food. It was the beginning of weekly shopping trips for Victoria — and a fascinating glimpse into the life of an eccentric, aloof, smart, and very complicated woman.
She was born in Istanbul, Turkey and had three siblings. Her mother gave birth to Victoria when she was only 14 years old (not uncommon in that country at the time) and her mother died at the age of 33.
Victoria was born a very determined and hard-working woman. Once she decided on something, there was no stopping her until she had her way. One of her dreams was to move to the United States. She worked as a seamstress and designed clothing all of her life. When she met Petko Petkoff she was 16, and he was 25. He was passing through Turkey after escaping communist-run Bulgaria. They eloped when she was 18 and they lived and worked in Istanbul for the next 10 years. On February 20, 1956, they were legally married (as she phrased it), and that was also the day that they came to the United States by ship. Back in those days, sponsors were a way into the United States, and their sponsors were from Indianapolis. The sponsors met them in New York and then the journey to Indianapolis began.
Petko worked various jobs as a furrier and she as a seamstress/dressmaker. One of Petko’s first jobs was repairing fur coats at Wasson’s Department Store in the Eastgate Shopping Mall. The couple ended up buying MK Furs, which was going out of business — thus starting their dream of living in the United States and owning their own business.
Their first store was on Michigan Street, with the sign outside reading “Fur Restyling, Fur Refurbishing, Fur Cleaning and Fur Storage.” The second store was called Victoria’s and it was at East 10th St. and Arlington, next to the Arlington Theatre (now Ace Hardware). The space they rented was owned by Joe Guidone who owned the grocery across the street. Also next to Guidone’s grocery was Cecil’s dress shop. Mr. Cecil sued Victoria because he thought she was underselling furs and dresses and was taking business away from him. He lost, and she remained at that location for two and a half years.
Victoria’s Ladies Apparel and Petko Furs was a mainstay on 10th and Shadeland for 25 years.
The next store Petko and Victoria owned was at 10th and Shadeland, called Victoria’s Ladies Apparel/Petko Furs. They sold, refurbished, repaired, cleaned, and stored fur coats and sold ladies’ clothing and accessories. They were at that location for 25 years. They also had stores for a short time in Speedway and Cherry Tree Plaza.
I listened to Victoria’s stories about her life as I helped her on a regular basis beginning in 2008. I was finally able to talk her into seeing an eye specialist for her vision problems. She had her first eye surgery in the fall of 2008 and the second in January of 2009. After the second surgery, her vision returned and she was back to reading and was able to once again thread a needle. She was one happy woman! Helping her overcome her almost total blindness formed a bond and trust between us, and she started sharing parts of her life and opinions on everything, She trusted no one, and spoke of one real friend in her life, who she simply called “my 89 year old friend.” They way she spoke, the woman was always 89 for as long as she knew her.
Her trust in people was shattered when she found out that Petko had an affair with a woman who was a customer at their store, and there was a child. The mother of the child kept this secret from Petko and Victoria for seven years. Once the secret was out, Victoria divorced Petko in 1981. Since all the assets were always in Victoria’s name, she decided that he could stay in the house — he really had nowhere else to go, and she felt that he had saved her life once when she cut her wrist severely on a broken plate glass window. The agreement was that he paid all the utilities and worked in the yard —and he filled it with hundreds of flowers, and a collection of urns, fountains, and figurines that became the talk of the east side.
Victoria told me that when she first met Petko, he was a tall, dark and handsome man who could charm anyone. She talked about his talent as a furrier, but any trust she had in him was shattered when she found out about the child. She also claimed he had many affairs throughout the years. Petko died in June of 2009 and I took her to the graveside service. She was extremely nervous, knowing she would have to face Petko’s son and the mother. It was an extremely hot day, and we waited in the parked car in the shade. When she saw the hearse, she started crying. We walked to the burial site and the service was performed under a tent which made the heat even worse. When the service was over, Victoria cried, placed the flower arrangement she made on the casket, kissed the casket and left. We sat in the air-conditioned car to cool off, and Victoria grabbed her purse, reapplied all her makeup, and said “Let’s go to Bob Evans.” Poof, grieving done.
In the weeks that followed, she shared that in Turkey when someone dies the widow wears black for one year and after the death of a spouse there is no TV or reading for 40 days. When the gravestone is placed at the grave they bring food and invite family and friends to the gravesite. She was thankful she didn’t have to do any of that.
Over the ensuing years, I got to know the bizarre, quirky side of Victoria. In the winter of 2011 she shared with me that one of her cats died and the ground was frozen, so she had it in a box in the kitchen and she would bury it when the ground thawed. About two weeks later her other cat died and I insisted on burying both in the yard. She told me of taking robin eggs from an abandoned nest and putting the eggs in her bra until they hatched. She raised them until they were big enough to let go.
She shared that they never fixed a broken water heater or furnace, which had given out years ago. They lived by a couple of space heaters and in the winter she would let all the faucets drip so the pipes didn’t freeze. She cooked on a countertop griddle because her stove from the 60s quit years before, but she still used her Frigidaire (as she called it) up to the end.
She didn’t like red meat, chicken or turkey. Her favorite fish was tilapia, but she said the best part of the fish was the brain — and in the United States they usually don’t serve the head on the fish. She also loved snake, but could never find a restaurant that served it to her liking. She never smoked or drank alcohol.
In the last year or so of her life she talked about hearing voices, seeing ghosts, and wanting to have an exorcism to rid her house of “evil spirits.” It was sad.
Victoria had an infectious laugh and was one of the most talented seamstresses around. She made clothes that were designer quality. She also loved to make flower arrangements, crochet flowers, and showed me a purse she made one time from the strings of an old potato sack. When she was in the nursing home in early December 2012, she taught everyone how to crochet and was making hats, scarves, and blankets for anyone who wanted one. She would only watch the animal channel on TV, and loved all animals. If any animal came into her yard, she considered it a blessing and thought they were there to see her.
I firmly believe we meet individuals in our lives for a variety of reasons, and she was one individual I will never forget. This is only a small portion of what I learned about her in the years I knew Victoria. I’m glad our paths crossed.
