All the many parts: After a tragedy, can anything save Nichols Hardware?

The hand-lettered sign taped against the glass pane of the red front door said “Closed Due to Death in Family.”

It was dark inside Nichols Hardware store. Outside, the early September afternoon was flooded with brilliant sunshine and soft breezes. The big windows facing the street were filled with arrangements of seasonal supplies, rakes and canning materials and apple barrels. A message on poster board propped on the front steps read: “Ted and Karen — You will remain in our hearts forever.” It was framed by wreaths, vases of flowers, unlit candles.

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A middle-age woman in a long dress passed by on the sidewalk. When she saw the display, she stopped abruptly, moved closer to read the sign. Then she pressed her palm to her mouth. Her eyes watered.

“Oh, God,” she said.

The accident had happened the day before, on a Sunday afternoon. Ted Nichols, 64, the third-generation co-owner of the landmark Nichols Hardware Store in Purcellville, was in an SUV with his wife, Karen Nichols, 63, and several of Karen’s family members: her two brothers, her sister, her sister-in-law and her mother, Doris Louer. Doris had just turned 90. They were on their way home after picking apples together when the Chevy Suburban edged off the side of the road on Route 55 in Warren County. The driver, Karen’s brother, Robert Louer, overcorrected, and the vehicle careened over an embankment and into a tree. Ted, Karen and Doris died in the crash.

Word of the accident spread quickly. The outpouring of emotion overwhelmed Mark Nichols, Ted and Karen’s only son, and his wife, Debbie. Everyone wanted to tell Mark what his parents had meant to Purcellville, how they were a part of the very heart of the town.

For generations, Nichols Hardware has been a seemingly immortal sanctuary, staying much the same as it was when it opened 97 years ago. Many residents of Purcellville were aware that there was no apparent fourth-generation heir who intended to take over the store, and this was understood to be a sensitive topic that was best not to think about. But now, in the aftermath of the accident, there was the unwelcome realization that Nichols Hardware might already be running out of time.

***

Two days after the accident, the other owner of Nichols Hardware — Ken Nichols, Ted’s 80-year-old uncle — reopened the doors. He took his place in the office at the back of the store, elevated above the creaky wooden floors and overlooking the narrow aisles packed with merchandise. Even the ceiling of the store was crowded, with bird feeders and tricycles and wooden porch swings suspended in the air.

“We are a service-oriented store. We try to serve the public,” Ken said. “Being closed doesn’t do that.”

It was a grasp at normalcy in the wake of a tragedy that he knew would eventually change everything. But he was not going to think about that yet. Ken tried to focus on the paperwork on his desk, but people kept coming by. They wanted to offer their condolences to him and to the employees, most of whom had worked there for 20 or 30 or 50 years.