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Hurricanes shuffle the landscape. Developers bulldoze and build, bulldoze and build. Cafes or watering holes swoop in and out, leaving no trace.

So when news spread that Spec's Records and Tapes would close this month after 65 years, a collective sense of melancholy settled over this city of graceful banyan trees and Mediterranean-style homes in Miami-Dade County. After all these years — and despite a long-ago change in ownership — the record store looks frozen in time: the same 1980s red-letter sign and awning hangs out front; the white-and-tan facade has been immune to the decades; even the carpet retains a Me Decade hue.

"I feel emotionally connected to the place; a lot of us feel that way," said Tere Batista Worland, who grew up nearby and trolled the aisles for Elton John and Led Zeppelin, later becoming an executive at Universal Music. "It was a big part of my childhood. It's where we all bought our first records, where we went to see pop artists. It was a huge part of my growing up. It marks the end of an era."

For generations, Spec's was the place where teeny-boppers and musicians, hippies and squares, classical music lovers and punk rockers, blue-haired ladies and purple-haired youths all congregated in the search for vinyl, eight-tracks, reel-to-reel, cassettes and, finally, CDs. Students, many from the University of Miami, which is across the street, camped out for concert tickets. Fans lined the block to get an autograph from Plácido Domingo. The Bee Gees once played an acoustic set among the record bins. Bruce Hornsby shopped there.

Martin Spector, a former talent agent and violinist from Virginia, opened the store in 1948 on U.S. 1, then just a two-lane road. The shop sold records and cameras. Five years later, he moved the store a few blocks north on U.S. 1 to its permanent location and zeroed in almost exclusively on records for a few decades. Classical music was Mr. Spector's specialty, although he sold all genres. He treated customers like members of an exclusive music club, and that kept the people coming back.

By the 1970s, Spec's grew to become a record powerhouse in Miami and the region. It influenced music charts with its ability to move records and promote songs, and it nurtured the local music scene. In 1985, Spec's went public and continued to thrive for more than a decade until the rise of downloadable music. Spec's was recognized by Forbes in 1987 as one of the 200 best small companies in America.

Mr. Spector's work ethic was legendary; he kept an office in the Coral Gables store, its flagship, and always made the rounds. He chose employees wisely. And he stayed a step ahead of tastes and trends, ushering in Latin music when he saw Miami's population shift, building a renowned classical collection, selling concert tickets, hosting artists, and then adding movie rentals when necessary. At its peak, Spec's grew to 80 stores in Florida and Puerto Rico. In 1998, Spec's was sold to Camelot, which was later bought by Trans World Entertainment. Mr. Spector died in 2003 at age 98.

The companies that bought out Spec's considered it wise to keep the Spec's name and the store's same design. And so it remains.

"It was the place to be," said Ann Spector Lieff, Mr. Spector's daughter who took the helm of Spec's in 1980 and is now a consultant. "I think the new owners saw the value in the name. I think they got it, and that was very gratifying to all of us."

Pascale Laurent, 48, who grew up nearby and got word in Africa, where she now lives, that Spec's was closing, felt an immediate pang. She landed a job there in the early '80s, a coup for a high school student. She earned $3.35 an hour and invaluable perks: first dibs on concert tickets, free records and flawless on-the-job music. One afternoon, she ushered around the pop singer and soap actor Rick Springfield as he signed autographs.

"There was something about how cool it felt and looked to be there," said Ms. Laurent, who stayed on four years. "It was a place where people came to find something they loved — music."

Flipping through the last remaining jazz CDs, Morrie Hollander, 78, said he started making pilgrimages to Spec's 30 years ago. "This is my nook-and-cranny," he said, of the jazz section, lamenting the store's passing.

The old building will be leveled, and Chase Bank, with more than 280 branches in the state, will occupy a new structure this year.

"Just what we need," Mr. Hollander said. "Another bank."