This apothecary's workshop, which solely focuses on prescription services, is a far cry from today's drugstores with their rows of brightly packaged, over-the-counter medicines, candy, stationery and baby supplies. Instead, decorative glass orbs filled with colored water hang in the store's windows, beakers sit on shelves waiting to be used as measuring tools, and endless powders and solutions await mixing by mortar and pestle.

Pharmacist Alexander (Sandy) Demetro has owned and operated Westwood Prescriptionists at 1211 Meridian Ave. since 1961, and although times are tough, he's reluctant to let go.

Demetro, 76, says his desire to share his pharmaceutical knowledge with his patients outweighs his need to be more commercially profitable, which has grown difficult as major drugstores oust the ma and pa pharmacies from the cultural landscape.

"Drug manufacturers don't favor us with prices," he says, adding that private pharmacies are charged more than chain stores, which buy in volume.

As a longtime professional in the field, he's seen the changes over the years but has committed himself to following his patients' histories, charging fair prices and providing services such as a drive-up window and home delivery service. Demetro says his drive-up window was probably a first in the county.

Though his costs fluctuate depending on drug company pricing, Demetro has a contingent of loyal customers who appreciate his services.

"He's the only one we go to," Willow Glen resident John Leavitt says. Leavitt and his wife have taken their prescriptions to Demetro since 1964. "He's very consistent and timely in filling prescriptions."

Leavitt, who owns his own patent business, adds that another reason for his loyalty is his desire to support small, family-run businesses. He says that "it's a credit to Willow Glen" to have small shops.

"Not everyone is loyal that way," says Demetro, noting that only 10 percent of his patients are longtime customers. Most insurance companies are not willing to pay private pharmacies, because they are often perceived as being more expensive than other pharmacies, he adds.

He has seen many of his neighbors and friends on MediCal or managed health care forced to switch to commercial pharmacies where the pharmacist has less time than he does to consult with them and get to know their medical histories. The difficulty with managed health care is that it considers every professional and patient the same, Demetro says. "I have yet to meet the patient that is Mrs. Average," he adds. "Just as you have a personal physician, you probably should have a personal pharmacist."

This commitment to serving people's personal needs comes from the way he was brought up by his parents and the values instilled in his generation, he says.

Demetro received his bachelor's degree from UC-San Francisco in 1950 and was drafted into the Korean War. He served as a pharmacist in an Army hospital in Germany. After being discharged, in 1955 he completed his doctorate in pharmacy.

With his partner Charles Longinotti he established a company called Santa Clara Valley Pharmaceuticals because he thought the growing San Jose area had more business opportunities than San Francisco. The two partners intended to open six locations to serve the county, but never made enough profit to grow, Demetro says. Longinotti split from Demetro in 1973 and moved to Almaden Pharmacy, which no longer exists.

But back in 1961, the two partners selected the corner of Meridian Avenue (then Road) and Westwood Drive, because the developer had chosen that section of parcels for a medical center.

There was talk of bringing an eye hospital, called the Meridian Eye Clinic, to Westwood Drive, Demetro says, so he decided to add an ophthalmic laboratory to the business. It is still part of the store, but it was never used because the clinic was not built.

Although the clinic never came to fruition, years ago doctors and dentists used to work in the building next to him, making his pharmacy a convenient shop for patients. Today that same building is a mix of retail and medical businesses.

"Hospitals drew the physicians away," he says. Most of the doctors went to Good Samaritan Hospital and some to O'Connor Hospital, he says, eliminating the independent nature of practicing medicine.

"It's a little bit unfair," says Demetro, about physicians having to join large organizations rather than remaining in their patients' neighborhood. "It's less convenient for people."

Fortunately those same standards didn't apply to the dental industry.

Retired dentist Robert Panick had a dental practice across Meridian Avenue from 1980 to 1990 and referred many patients to Westwood Prescriptionists for painkillers and antibiotics, he says.

"He's dependable, conscientious and conveniently located," says Panick, adding that he and his wife still take their personal prescriptions to Demetro. Panick notes that for Demetro it's more than just being a number.

Yet the loss of personalization extends beyond the neighborhood businesses and right into the community, Demetro says. Safety has also become an issue as the demographics surrounding the neighborhood have changed and traffic on Meridian Avenue has increased dramatically.

If he stays late after his assistants have left, he won't open the door to someone who knocks unless he knows the person. And he no longer goes to work in the middle of the night when someone needs painkillers. Those are ways of the past, he says, and "it just became impractical."

While he had to limit that aspect of his business, he says it's still important for him to "meet people on an eyeball-to-eyeball basis." He also acknowledges that his age doesn't allow him to work like he used to, but he doesn't want to give up the perks—meeting people and reading scientific journals.

Customers like 77-year-old Ninette Brown are grateful for his fortitude. She has taken her prescriptions to Demetro for three years and says she likes the friendly, neighborhood atmosphere.

"Somebody recommended Sandy's, and when I found it, I was as thrilled as can be," she says. "It's an old-fashioned feel. It's been so many years since I've seen something like it."

Brown has had to avoid driving temporarily for health reasons, so she is benefiting from the store's prescription delivery service, which adds a charge of $3.95 to every delivery within a 3-mile radius from the store.

Demetro says he relates well to people of his generation, yet only one-third of his patients are senior citizens. Many customers come to Demetro by recommendation because he doesn't advertise. He says he has had a good reputation with most physicians in the area. But he no longer accepts prescriptions from physicians outside the Santa Clara Valley because he doesn't know their professional expertise.

And while Willow Glen also boasts another old-time pharmacy—The Medicine Shoppe next to Albertson's at Bird and Minnesota avenues—the two businesses have never had a strong rivalry, Demetro says.

"The really true professional pharmacist considers his competitor as his brother," he says. "We help each other out." If he doesn't carry a product, he refers people to the Medicine Shoppe or has an employee go there to pick it up, he adds.

Customers like Brown say they are attracted to the vintage atmosphere of Westwood Prescriptionists. While Demetro has computers, he still asks his assistants to type up the orders and the patients' records on manual typewriters. He even has a cash register from 1950, which he hasn't been able to fix—he's thinking of selling it on eBay.

While his college-age assistants resist using typewriters, he says the best place to work for a young person used to be a pharmacy. A pharmacy job teaches people skills, business acumen, honesty and serving the public.

"It's character building to work at a pharmacy, versus flipping hamburgers," he says.

Willow Glen resident Vina To is enrolled in San José State University's nursing program and has worked at Demetro's pharmacy since high school.

"The nursing program is vigorous," she says. "[Working here] has helped me with learning the medical abbreviations."

Those under his tutelage are also privy to something no longer common in local pharmacies. Demetro does his own compounding—preparing physician-prescribed natural drug mixtures that are not available commercially. He mainly works in infertility, hormone-replacement and dermatology compounding.

"Dermatology is driven strongly by manufacturing," he says. "People should go to a dermatologist rather than Macy's. The best dermatologist will try noncommercial drugs like different strengths of retinoic acid, kojic acid or vitamin C."

Creating infertility compounds is also an aspect of the industry he says has been satisfying.

"It's the best reward, seeing a couple with difficulty in pregnancy get results," he adds.

He's also been preparing progesterone treatments for post-menopausal women for decades.

"There was a time when I was the only one making progesterone for three clinics in Los Angeles," says Demetro, until compounding became more prevalent on the West Coast between the 1970s and 1980s. Yet the rise in holistic remedies and alternative medicine does concern him.

"It's a challenge to trained physicians when people will believe the clerk at a health store rather than a doctor with 12 years of education," he says. "When patients are in desperation, they'll turn to anything."

But the urgency for medical remedies pales in comparison to how he has watched the way insurance and drug companies have manipulated the drug market and squeezed out smaller pharmacies while diminishing patient care, Demetro says.

Demetro gives an example of a drug that is marketed by the same manufacturer under different names, but with the same dosage for the differently named products, with a price that can range between $9.88 and $326.33.

"They're selling a name and robbing the public blind," he says. "It's frustrating. There seem to be no changes coming about."

He cites an article in the San Francisco Chronicle from 1998, where an HMO proposed using only one drug company's product for a specific illness that would rebate the HMO $36 million for its exclusive use.

The nature of the industry has become so insidious that many people are turning to mail-order drugs or drugs from Canada to cut the costs, he says. But the problem with this approach is that there is no patient consultation, even though the California State Board of Pharmacy requires it, he notes.

Nonetheless, Demetro says he will continue advising patients, planning to hold onto his business for as long as he can despite "very lean and negative profits."

He is driven by the concern that one day there will be no room for the individual pharmacist. But until that day arrives, Demetro says, he'll continue what he has been doing for more than 40 years because "I work in such a way that I have no trouble sleeping at night."