By Harry Kollatz Jr.

The original Felico's food cart at 175th and Rockaway in Queens, N.Y., is gone, part of history in a fast-charging business directed by John Felico, an energetic, never-can't grandson of an Italian immigrant.

Grandpa Felico, from Naples, started selling candies and roasted peanuts at street fairs from a wooden cart. Dominic Felico followed and found his market selling Italian sausages.

When John sought to make his way in New York's world of work, he opened up his own stand, beginning behind Kennedy Airport, where the international freight gets loaded. He and his wife, Diane, worked six to seven hours a day making big, delicious sandwiches that the truckers loved. And others, too. Then Pepsi distributor Richard Kave started hanging out and ultimately joined the business as its financial officer.

Now, Dominic's of New York^® has offices in Innsbrook, a $10 million business, and a place in specialty meats at Ukrop's stores. John Felico has become an executive.

"Some days, I tell you, I miss being in the unit, making those sandwiches, talking to the people," Felico says in a staccato delivery direct from New York's streets. "Because that's what it's all about. Making people happy; entertaining them, really."

Felico went from persuading North Carolina-based home improvements retailer Lowe's to allow him to park his units in front of its stores to having the company designate a spot on its blueprints for them.

Dominic's Italian sausages are based on a family recipe, now copyrighted, and are manufactured in Maryland. If a steak salesman comes to the Innsbrook office, Felico says, "Okay, let's take it to our test kitchen and see what it does; if it's better than what we have we'll talk. Maybe it'll cost more, but the customer is getting a better value."

One day a guy - Felico thinks his name may have been Al - came to the cart and suggested Felico put his units in front of Home Depot stores. "Al" inspired Felico to search for franchises allowing him to place his kiosks in front of their stores.

Home Depot wasn't interested, Ames fell through, then came Lowe's and "an angel visitor," a now retired New York orthodontist, Dr. Richard Thrall.

Lowe's gave Felico a 30-day contract. That meant packing up an entire life in New York and moving to a place he and Diane had barely heard of. If the venture failed, he still had a cart, (and keeps one in storage today). "I could just put it out on Broad Street and support my family that way," he shrugs.

Richmond's initial reception was hesitant. "Richmond makes you wait, man," he laughs, "but that's part of the beauty." But customer word got around. Felico gave his unit managers profit percentages, not salaries, proving a great motivator.

"I'll probably never leave Richmond," Felico says. "It's a great time to be here. Sometimes I'm on the highway and I'm looking at the skyline and I say, I want to be a part of that, I want to see it grow."