It's fair to say it was the vibe at the Salvation Army Family Store that caught my attention and made me feel as if I wasn't just in some random thrift store. Motown music played on the radio, and it seemed like everyone who walked in the door got a first name greeting from the person manning the cash register.

Thrift shop regulars Peggy and Murietta Sullivan relax and enjoy their visit. Photo by Chris Burrell.

Late last summer I pedaled my blue ten-speed over a drawbridge spanning the Chelsea River and turned left at Katz's Bagel, then down a side street past red brick apartment buildings to Broadway, a street teeming with pedestrians and active storefronts. If you hankered for tacos, liquor, clean laundry, a pizza, beef lo mein, jeans, sneakers, pots, pans, vegetables or fruit, Broadway in downtown Chelsea, Mass was a pretty good place to be.

And if you needed a four-dollar shirt or some second-hand dinner plates or were just in the mood for discovering a treasure amidst the bins and racks and shelves, then the Salvation Army Family Store seemed like a wise choice.

My first visit there, I found a simple but elegant mug made in England. On a subsequent visit, I found exactly the Barracuda jacket that my teenage son was pining for and had seen advertised on the internet for more than $100. I paid $5.

Pretty soon I was a repeat customer and saw the value of telling the story of a place that welcomes people not just as customers whose purchases will swell the cash register drawers, but as people and neighbors.

The Salvation Army Family Store sits in the heart of downtown Chelsea, within a stone's throw of a bus stop and within a couple blocks of a vast residential area of apartment building, wood-framed triple-deckers, lofts and brick row houses that have views over to the Boston skyline.

I think this is the reason the shop functions as a community nerve center. It's not flung out on a highway or in a strip mall. People climb off the bus, knock off work, take a coffee break, and ride their bikes to this Salvation Army for the simple reason that it's a place that feels good.

It probably helps that I grew up going to thrift stores, mostly with my dad. There was a special one down on 12th Street in Cincinnati where the ladies knew our names and always had big smiles when we walked in the door. Decades later I still remember Ida Mae, Mary, Virginia and Arthur who worked there, giving life to a neighborhood that badly needed care and love.

What about your memories of thrift stores? Amazing finds you made? If they also acted as a community center, what was it about them that made them feel like part of the fabric of the town orneighborhood?

Listen to Chris' story on the Salvation Army Thrift Store, or view a slideshow while listening to some customers tell their stories.