Local Pharmacist Retires After 30 Years To Teach In His Native Guyana

To some, retirement means living in a world of leisure, and having an opportunity to luxuriate after years of hard work.

For 60-year-old Naresh Bhagroo, the completion of his tenure as a Park Slope pharmacy owner is simply the end of one chapter. He retired this month from Emcon Pharmacy (49 5th Avenue near Bergen Street), passing the business onto his son, Caesar.

But what a chapter it has been.

Emcon opened up in 1974 in a very different Park Slope. Bhagroo arrived in the U.S. from his native Guyana in 1982 and would study pharmacology at L.I.U. and Bronx-Lebanon Hospital. And then came the pharmacy.

“This place needed a pharmacist, so I came,” says Bhagroo.

Bhagroo began his work at Emcon in 1987. “Well, at first I had to work two or three jobs. I didn’t come here with very much money,” says the now-retiree. But he would slowly work his way up to owning the pharmacy himself.

“It wasn’t something that happened quickly,” he explains. “First, I bought half of it from the owner. Luckily he was retiring, and he let me pay him a little bit at a time. It was the only way I could do it.”

Over the next decade, Bhagroo created an environment in which he prioritized his customers. “I’m the most reluctant business person you have ever met,” he tells us. “I’m more of an academic. Really, I’m just about the worst businessman. If someone needed medication and didn’t have money, I would help them.”

Good businessman or not, the formula worked for him. Emcon and Bhagroo gained a strong reputation in the neighborhood.

“People come in here and have their cup of coffee,” says his son Caesar, who will now be taking over the business. “They play the lotto. They talk with each other and with us.”

But of course, it hasn’t been easy for the “mom and pop” pharmacies such as Emcon. When we asked Bhagroo how he has handled the chain pharmacies — Walgreen’s, CVS, and Duane Reade — he knew the question was coming.

“How do you survive chains? It’s not easy,” he says. “The thing is, if someone has insurance, they can go to different places to get their medicine. They could come to chains or to me. If medicine is too expensive for a customer, I can adjust the price. Chains can’t do that.”

So how did he keep the place afloat with that type of generosity? “Customers come back,” he says. “Their children grow up and come here. It’s like a little village.”

And on top of that, Emcon would deliver medication to those who couldn’t come in.

When we ask about how the neighborhood has changed over the years, Bhagroo smiles. “Oh, there’s been a lot,” he says, downplaying how much the area has been through. “When we got here, there was a bullet hole in the front glass. The grocery store next door [which is now The Montrose]  was a front for drug dealers. Once, I saw all these guys up against the wall getting arrested.”

Bhagroo tells us he feels lucky that a major crime never took place in the pharmacy. “No one ever came in with a gun. We’ve had some odd shoplifting,” he says.

In the short bit of time observing Bhagroo behind the counter, it’s very clear that he is well-respected by his employees. “My protocol is to treat workers fairly,” he says. “They all have different things they need. A happy worker is a better worker.”

The exchanges between Bhagroo and his son Caesar are warm and filled with gentle teasing.

“Outside of being a great dad, he’s a great owner,” says Caesar.

“He says that only when I’m around,” responds Bhagroo.

“My dad doesn’t know what a Facebook page is,” teases Caesar.

“Man, I can’t fire this dude,” he says, looking at Caesar.

Right now, Bhagroo is making his plans to return to Guyana. “There’s this lure in my country for teachers to leave,” he says. “I’m going back to teach high school. The students are weakest in English and math. But I could teach physics, biology, and chemistry also.”

As we step outside for a few more photos, Bhagroo takes a look at the street. “There are only two businesses that are still here from when I began,” he says. “Emcon and Yayo’s.” The Latin American restaurant at 36 5th Avenue is about a half-block down from the pharmacy.

We began to take a few more pictures. Caesar turned to his father. “Come on, dad. Smile. You’re retiring.”