If you’re from Pittsburgh, you know what it means to be a Yinzer. Historically, a Yinzer was the vernacular term to describe a blue-collar working person, a derivative from the early Scottish settlers.

For Jimmy Coen, being a Yinzer is a source of pride, as well as a high compliment. Coen is the owner of Yinzers in the Burgh, one of the largest suppliers of Pittsburgh sports merchandise in the area as well as one of the most recognizable establishments in the Strip District. And Coen himself is a very recognizable resident of the Strip, as well as one of the most beloved. When a fire raged through an upper floor of his original storefront location just a month after the pandemic began, the community rallied around him. Considering Coen’s gregarious personality, his resilience in the face of adversity, and his remarkable ability to connect with everyone from vendors and customers to Pittsburgh Steelers’ families, it is unsurprising that Yinzers would rise from the ashes to become better than ever.

Coen was born with an entrepreneurial spirit. Growing up in a family of modest means in Lawrenceville in the 1960s and 1970s, he and his five brothers would earn money in any way they could, including singing Christmas carols. In his youth and young adulthood, he worked in different retail businesses, encompassing ladies’ shoes, furniture, and flea markets, before setting up shop as a street vendor in the Strip. “I was a street vendor for 12 years altogether, and I sold everything from post-9/11 patriotic merchandise and Beanie Babies to slap bracelets, sunglasses, hats, and gloves. Soon people started asking me for Steelers hats and gloves, so that’s how I started selling Steelers stuff,” says Coen.

Selling goods on the street can be tiring, not to mention cold, so eventually Jimmy Coen rented a vacant store at 1736 Penn Avenue, which was the former home of Mike Feinberg Company. Coen tore it down to the studs as part of the renovation process. “There were these huge beams, and on the beams, it said J&L Steel. That is where my father worked, and I made the connection that I was meant to have this building,” he says.

Coen later rented another—larger—property on 21st and Penn. “As that street started to progress, I actually became an anchor on that corner of the Strip,” he says. Shortly, other businesses opened around him, such as Luke Wholey’s and The BeerHive. When he originally opened, he did not yet have a name for his store, but his employees suggested StripTees and Yinzers. Coen chose Yinzers, and the name seemed to be the perfect fit, as it celebrates everything Pittsburgh, especially its three major sports teams, in a sea of black-and-gold merchandise.

As his business grew and became more successful, he opened up another location, specifically to sell Christmas merchandise, eventually converting that into a Yinzers outlet store.

“We carry more items than most stores, including a good bit of Steelers items,” adds Coen. “We carry a lot of licensed apparel, men’s, women’s, novelties, you name it. We carry ten different styles of Steelers earrings, 50 Steelers hats, 200 women’s shirts, 200 men’s shirts; there is such an array.” He also has a large Pittsburgh line, focusing on tourist’s items, as the Strip’s customers are a mix of locals and out-of-towners.

The walls leading to the second floor of Yinzers are covered by thousands of customers’ signatures.

Over the years, Coen has grappled with several life-changing events, including the loss of his son six years ago and a divorce the year later. He also bought a bar in Lawrenceville; he and his partner had planned to renovate it and open a bar in his old childhood neighborhood. But he was tied up in litigation concerning the property, ultimately prevailing; his partner passed away; and three months later, a microburst took off the top two floors of the bar.

Eight months later, the entire country shut down as the world grappled with a global pandemic. Nobody knew what the future would bring, but business owners knew that closing their doors was not sustainable for the long haul.

Coen quickly pivoted and began selling masks and gloves. “I was supplying all the restaurants and all the people on the street. We did two kiosks in Ross Park Mall while this was going on.”

But that was not all that life had in store.

The call came in the middle of the night on April 20, 2020. Coen learned from his daughter that there was a fire at a store on the Strip. “When I got the call, it was obviously devastating,” he says. “I called Primanti’s and asked, ‘Could you guys look out your window and tell me if my building is on fire?’ They responded, ‘You’d better get your ass down here,’ so I knew.”

When Coen arrived, he watched in horror as the upper floor of his original store shot up in flames.

Coen thanks his lucky stars for the City of Pittsburgh fire department. “They were there in four minutes; they saved my building,” he recalls.

“When something major like that happens, you really know who your friends are and who really cares about you,” he says. The truth of such a statement couldn’t have been proven more evident than when 40 people showed up the day after the fire—from customers to other Strip business owners to friends—to help move every stitch of merchandise out of the store to save as much as was possible. He also received calls of support from people all over the world.

His resolve to rebuild was never in question, even though it was a long road. “Some people may just have given up. But I was determined that this is what I worked for my whole life, to own my own building, to be a business owner—and I wanted to show all the other businesses in the Strip that if I could get through this, then those guys could also get through anything, even a pandemic,” he says. Because of a lot of red tape from insurance companies and other institutions, it took him over three years to get that store reopened.

As for relationships with his Strip neighbors, how many retailers are extremely familiar with their customers? Coen has made it a point to be relationship-oriented, from knowing the names of many of his customers and even building friendships with some of them to establishing good rapport with his vendors. Coen jokes with his customers that they have no limit on spending, which usually puts a smile on their faces.

Customers leave their marks in his store all the time. In the bathroom of his original storefront, about 100 local celebrities and sports figures—Mac Miller, Franco Harris, Troy Polamalu, and others—have signed his wall, while there are tens of thousands of signatures of customers all along the wall heading up to the second floor.

Like every other community, the Strip has undergone changes, including new business and housing developments. Still, Coen knows that he made the right decision to open up shop there all those years ago. “The Strip District businesses represent so many different countries. They all get along, unlike the rest of the world. It’s a big family. Everybody knows everybody. It’s like growing up in Lawrenceville—everyone knows and helps everyone else. We all look out for each other. You don’t get that in other cities or in other neighborhoods anymore,” he observed.

Although the Strip business owners were generally a cohesive bunch to begin with, Coen thought it was a good idea to establish an official organization for the mutual benefit of everybody. “About five or six years ago, I formed a business association in the Strip District to try to help with so much development coming in; we wanted to protect the businesses and the history of the Strip,” he says.

Coen knows the names of many of the Strip workers, from dishwashers to managers, and he treats them all the same. “I can’t go from one store to the next without running into someone. A lot of the owners call me the mayor.”

To help out his fellow restaurateurs in the Strip during the pandemic, he and local artist Cory Bonnet, with the support of the nonprofit Strip District Neighbors, helped lead a campaign to raise $30,000. “We gave $1,000 to each restaurant, and they would make us lunches that we donated to Light of Life, and we also donated masks. It helped the Strip immensely; we did not have one restaurant that went out of business during the pandemic,” he recalls.

Though the fire hurt him financially, knowing that he has the capability of prospering through adversity is what keeps Jimmy Coen going. He has, so to speak, learned to put out fires and come out on top. “Life sometimes can really throw you some curveballs and you just have to get up every day, get in the shower, go to work, and then figure it out,” says Coen.

And because he has a pay-it-forward mentality, Coen tries to make a difference in someone’s life every single day. “After all the bad things that have happened, I still try every day to try to take care of someone,” he says, noting that this is a lesson he learned from his mother.

He’s also learned that customer service must be impeccable. “There are so many different things we try to do,” states Coen. “The key word is experience. You can go to other stores and find some of the same stuff I have, but you come for the experience. We have music playing, we’re singing and dancing, and we have the two floors full of merchandise.”

Despite all of the hurdles, or maybe because of them, Coen isn’t going anywhere. He loves his Strip “family” and all of his customers.

“I don’t think in another neighborhood that a pizza shop would give another pizzeria pizza shells, but in the Strip it happens. We trade—and everyone helps each other and takes care of each other. It’s such a unique place, and I’m lucky I stumbled upon it when I did. What I do is not a job. Every day I just get to come in and meet great people and have fun. When I see a customer come in and say, ‘It’s so nice to see you’re open,’ it puts a big smile on my face.”