The PBA has been blessed by the generosity of many good people who care about us and our families. Nowhere are these blessings better reflected than in the support from strangers for the Widows’ and Children’s fund that provides assistance in many areas to the spouses and children of police officers killed in the line of duty.

One such generous supporter is Udi Avshalom, 34, who operates seven “Training Camp” sneaker and clothing stores throughout the city. But while Udi runs a company that does millions of dollars of business today, it was during what he calls the dark and dangerous days that he came to see the local beat cop as the only friend he had on the mean streets.

The Avshalom family came to America from Israel in 1974 with $92 and five mouths to feed. Udi’s father, Joshua, was a proud man who had seen three wars in his homeland. He brought his wife and three children to America for better opportunities. They came here to earn their way in life, not to accept handouts from the government. Welfare was not an option and the boys were expected to pull their own weight. Udi’s father believed that as long as they had two arms and two legs, they could work as hard as necessary to put food on the family table.

Their first home in America was a garage in East New York that served a dual purpose. It was a merchandise warehouse for the items that the family would peddle on the street and it was home. At the tender age of 9, Udi was handed a tray-full of watches and sent out onto the streets of his neighborhood with instructions not to come home until he’d sold them all. Udi hawked his watches on the same corners where local drug dealers peddled their poison. A pre-teen selling watches while others sold crack attracted a lot of attention, and Udi was frequently robbed.

Fortunately, he also attracted the attention of the local beat cop. Udi says he “identified a friend,” in the police officer who directed him to the neighborhood’s safer areas to sell his wares and even brought him hot tea on cold rainy days.

Udi said he quickly learned that “on the streets, the cop is the only support system you’ve got.” That relationship planted a seed for the future.

Tired of the constant dangers in East New York and Brownsville, Joshua Avshalom moved the family business to Canal Street. There they plied their trade among the Chinese immigrants in an area known for its bargain shopping.

With business improving, the Avshalom family opened a store on Broadway. Joshua Avshalom had made a lucky purchase of some very old sneakers that had been lost in shipping and then found years later. The family store became “Broadway Sneakers,” its vintage footwear attracting a great deal of attention from the hip-hop culture. But the store also fell victim to the wolf-pack robberies that were the rage then. Responding 5th Pct. police officers, shocked to discover the store being run by a 17-year-old kid, sort of adopted him and his business. They would stop in regularly to check on Udi’s safety.

“During the worst days of my family’s history that police officer’s shield was as welcome as the sun to us,” Udi says. “In the black days, after the store was robbed and I was shaking with tension and fear, this cop puts his hand on my shoulder and tells me, ‘It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to get him,’ and I felt better after that.”

In the aftermath of one robbery, Udi met P.O. Shawn Russell of the Asian Gang Intelligence Unit, a 5th Pct. PBA delegate. The cop gave the teenager his business card. Udi kept it.

Fast forward to Sept. 11, 2001. Udi was having the best time of his life, having been blessed with seven stores, a beautiful wife named Ravit and twin daughters, Stephanny and Natali, now 5. “I bought one, got one free,” says Udi, always the merchant.

When he saw photos of the police officers that died in the World Trade Center attacks, all he could think of was their children and what would have happened to him without his father and what would happen to his twins without him. He found Shawn Russell’s card and called him. Russell told him the 23 officers had 39 children among them. Udi knew he had to do something for them. He felt he owed it to them for his success and for the help, friendship and protection the police had given him and his family.

Russell suggested he send a check to the PBA’s Widows and Children Fund, but Udi remembered the joy on the faces of the kids who came to his store with their police-officer parents to get a pair of the latest and hottest sneakers. “Send a check? No. I’m selfish. I want to see that smile when they get the sneakers they love.”

So now Udi regularly opens his doors to the children of fallen cops. They select sneakers and clothes and their smiles appear. They know someone cares, like that beat officer in East New York cared about a nine-year old selling watches on the mean streets.

Udi says he’s getting the better end of the deal: “I’ve learned a lesson from doing this — that I need to cherish the time I have with my kids because, even in America, tomorrow is not guaranteed in this new world we live in.”