As told to Sarah Truckey
Photograph by Frank Di Piazza
Born with cerebral palsy in Cairo, Egypt, in 1963, Sam Malek arrived in the United States five years later accompanied by his father. The two came straight to St. Louis, as Sam’s uncle, who lived here, had arranged a sponsorship through Shriners Hospital for Children. In the four decades that followed, Malek has married, started a family and opened a drive-through coffee shop in Manchester. More Than Coffee (at 14240 Manchester) insists on “Helping Challenged People One Cup at a Time” through donations to local individuals and charities. Despite the two crutches he uses, Malek manages the small orange shack on Route 100 with adeptness, moving from window to espresso machine to register and back. Malek says it’s not about him—it’s about his customers. But seeing how much compassion he shows for the community and the disabled St. Louisans he hires, one might start to think that it is all about him.
I was 4½ when I came to America. I couldn’t speak English.
I came over with my father, literally being carried on his back because I couldn’t crawl.
The nurses at Shriners told my father that I needed to learn English. When he relayed that message to me, I said, “Tell them I came here to learn how to walk—not how to talk.” And that’s been their little joke there ever since I left.
My father took three buses to get to work downtown from Maplewood. He had to leave at lunch to take me to Shriners.
They used to call me the happy child from Egypt.
I pray the rosary every day. I don’t pray it for me, I pray it for every one of my customers and my family—my wife
and two kids.
Without the customer, I can’t do what I do. That’s what it’s all about—helping people.
When you deal with people who have a disability, it’s all about adapting. The whole concept is to make it as independent as humanly possible. To give them a sense of self-esteem, self-worth.
I get people who ask me all day long, “How do you drive a car?” I drive with my hands.
If you press play right now on my CD player, the first thing you’ll hear is a prayer to the Virgin Mary.
I put my donation money in my back pocket. It never goes in the register. It has nothing to do with the business.
We have one man who comes in and works who cannot read. If you teach him to make a drink with three pumps of this and two shots of that, he’ll make it the exact same way each and every time.
One day I was talking to a family priest, and I said, “Well, why didn’t God take me?” and he said, “There’s something
you need to get done.”
I get customers all the time with little kids who see my crutches and ask, “Why do you have those?” The parents are like, “Shush shush!” And I’m like, “Don’t do that!” I answer them very simply: “My legs don’t work as well as yours. I need a little help.”
Children have to accept people for their differences. And if you teach them, you can impact them because they’re young. The parents, I can’t change their mind-set. We can make them think, but they’ve gotta make the choices to change.
I’ve had people order seven snow cones. And the kids are like, “How are you gonna make them?” And I’m like, “OK, open the door, come on in here and watch me make the snow cones.”
You will never outdo the good Lord’s generosity. That’s the way I function, and that’s what it’s all about.
