By: Mary Sahagun

In 1979, Andrew Morris stepped off a flight from Kingston with fifty dollars in his pocket. That was the most the Jamaican government allowed him to leave with. He had fought migration for years and waited until the last possible day before boarding that plane. He expected to come to New York, study, then return home in four or five years. Instead, he began a life that would take him from copy editor to Columbia MBA to Caribbean grocery store owner. That journey built one of the most trusted Caribbean marketplaces in the United States.

He and his wife, Jean, knew what it meant to miss home. When her father, Samuel Bonar, passed away, naming the store after him felt right. It honored a man they both loved and rooted the business in family from the start.

Sam’s Caribbean Marketplace opened in 1993 in Hempstead, and Andrew still remembers the first Saturday they made five hundred dollars. He celebrated. At the time, they needed eight hundred dollars a day to survive. They kept going anyway. 

And it’s that resilience, determination, and dedication to cultural preservation that continues to drive its success over 30 years later.

A Store Built on Real Needs

Before Sam’s, Caribbean families in Long Island had to travel far or settle for products that lacked the taste they grew up with. Caribbean-American shoppers often felt unseen in larger stores, often having to explain their culture every step of the way. 

Not at Sam’s. 

Andrew and Jean already knew why someone needed sorrel in December or why buns sold out before Easter. They understood that ackee was not just a can on a shelf. It was a memory.

Over time, that understanding built trust. Customers told friends. Families brought relatives. People lined up for patties baked in a two-hundred-dollar oven. Sam’s grew through consistency and care, not hype. Even celebrities stopped by. Super Cat. Nadine Sutherland. Rep. Yvette Clarke. Many came as regular customers, not as special guests.

The business created jobs. It generated foot traffic for nearby stores. It built a sense of place. Andrew often says that customers are the reason his staff can pay rent or send their kids to school. He teaches that daily. He and his daughter, Melissa, who now helps run the business, handle complaints with patience because they know customers walk in with real lives, not perfect moods. That is why many difficult customers return as loyal ones. The store treats people with respect and expects the same.

A Modern Platform With the Same Spirit

Sam’s still carries the staples the Caribbean diaspora loves to see, while also introducing them to an entirely new audience. Walkerswood. Spur Tree. Grace punch. Black cake available both in the box and made on-site. Hair products. Healing herbs. Flags from every island. But the business also keeps evolving.

The old website Andrew built back in 2003 brought in orders, even when photos jumped around the page. He had no training in web design, yet he taught himself as he went. The new site, sams24-7.com, is fast, clean, and made for customers across the country. It now offers more than a thousand products and delivers nationwide.

Sam’s also launched same-day delivery within a hundred miles through the Predictive AI Delivery system (PAID). Customers track their groceries or hot meals on a map and get updates in real time. Many homebound customers have already thanked the team for making life easier. Sam’s also offers in-store pickup so shoppers can avoid long lines. These upgrades came from watching what people needed, not chasing trends.

What Sam’s Really Offers

A longtime customer once said, “If Sam’s doesn’t have it, you don’t need it.” The phrase stuck because it feels true. Sam’s offers more than groceries. It offers continuity. It offers comfort. It offers a place where culture stays intact.

In a country where many small stores disappear under the weight of large chains, Sam’s remains steady. It grows without losing itself. It proves that the American Dream is not a slogan. It is effort, sacrifice, and community support. It is choosing to serve people who remind you of home. 

And sometimes, home arrives in the form of warm patties, a friendly greeting, or a bottle of real sorrel on a cold New York day.