His bodega, a frills-free corner bastion of old New York grit, chugged along for decades even as the surrounding neighborhood in Fort Greene, near the new Barclays Center, has changed almost beyond recognition. Even the storefront sign, displaying a long-discarded name, has not been displaced.

The bodega, known to all as Ralph's, was the kind of place where local residents left an extra set of apartment keys, or could count on running a bit of credit. It was the sort of New York standby that stayed open, always ready for one of life's impulsive purchases: chips, candy, cigarettes, beer.

And, the police said, drugs.

The police arrested Mr. Jawad, 48, on Thursday evening after they said an undercover officer bought marijuana from him. It was not the first time an undercover officer had done so, the police said. In addition, Mr. Jawad had been arrested once before, they added, in 2003, on weapons charges. Brooklyn prosecutors declined to prosecute in that case.  

Inside the store, along with the deli meat and bags of Domino sugar, the Brooklyn narcotics squad said it found roughly 460 assorted pills that appeared to include oxycodone, Valium and morphine; more than a pound of marijuana; over $21,000 in cash; and two loaded handguns. Two employees were arrested with Mr. Jawad on drug and gun charges. All three are facing up to 25 years in prison.

In the manner of a small-town scandal, Mr. Jawad's arrest rattled the surrounding community, many of whom knew him as the mayor of the block.

"He was a real long-standing anchor in the community," said Robert Perris, the district manager of Community Board 2. "Selling drugs is clearly against the law," he said, but added, "I never once heard an allegation that drugs were being sold there."

The shop, opened by Mr. Jawad's father on the corner of Lafayette and South Portland Avenues in the late 1970s, was for many years among the few businesses around, said James Daniels, a nearby resident since 1986. "He pretty much was the only store that had lights in the window," he said.

A manager at Mo's Bar across the street from Ralph's, Mr. Daniels said he started each day with a coffee and a word from Mr. Jawad, and did not know anything about drugs. "Nor do I believe it," he said.

Closed on Friday, the shop was back open on Sunday, though Mr. Jawad was missing; he remained in jail on Monday, held in $25,000 bail.

His arrest cast a dark cloud over the store's sun-splashed facade, the painted green sign above still displaying the words "89 Lafayette Avenue Meat Corp." The city has begun a process that could close the store permanently, the police said, though that still has to be decided by a court.

"I'm here until things get settled," one of Mr. Jawad's brothers, known as Bambi, said from behind the register.

Their father, Abdel, was also in the shop but emphasized that he was retired. He said there were "a couple of holdups" that were never reported to the police, explaining the guns, which he said had been in a safe in the back of the shop along with the money. "We never hurt anyone." According to the criminal complaint, the police found one gun in a safe; the other was behind the counter, in a box of sugar packets.

On the green-and-white picnic tables and benches outside, where local residents often come to trade gossip, those who gathered on Sunday greeted one another with smiles and spoke of the Jawad family's generosity. Keisha Brown, 35, remembered getting free candy when she was a child growing up around the block, when the shop was called Meat Corp.

Mark McNeil, a maintenance worker, agreed, adding, "If he didn't have something, he'd get it and in a big size." That was important for Mr. McNeil, whose 6-f00t-6, 260-pound frame towered over other shop regulars. "I just hope God has him and he brings him right back to us," he said.

Mr. McNeil brightened at the sight of Clarence Greenwood, a musician who left the neighborhood for Prospect Park South in February but returned on Sunday "to see if the store was back open." Mr. Greenwood, 44, sat on a picnic bench with a newspaper and remembered how Mr. Jawad would joke with customers, shouting through a screen window by the door.

"He was here when the neighborhood wasn't like this," he said, looking up and down the block to take it in: a bicycle shop; a real estate agency; a dry cleaner turned into an upscale clothing store.

The arrests appeared to bring a bit of unwanted reality back to a stretch of Lafayette Avenue where the bad old days can seem a distant memory. Despite a recent jump in some crimes — burglaries and assaults are up over the last two years, according to local precinct statistics — a visitor to the area is more likely to encounter bespoke fashions or artisanal chocolate than street crime.

"I'm clearly part of the change," said Alischa Kugel, 32, who rents an apartment above the store from Mr. Jawad. The Jawad family owns several buildings in the area, the community board said.

"I feel like I became part of the neighborhood because of Ralph," she added, saying she regularly stopped in for "milk, toilet paper — and advice."

Others, however, saw the shop, with dingy floors and half-empty shelves, as an eyesore, or worse.

A woman emerging from a yoga studio a few doors down said the place had another reputation among newer residents. It was "a well-known neighborhood secret" that drugs were sold there, said the woman, who declined to give her name but said she lived nearby on South Oxford Street.

Lounging in the warm afternoon sun outside Mo's Bar, three women originally from Houston described the store across the way as "sketchy" and cracked jokes about the arrests.

"No way that place is selling enough sandwiches to pay the rent," said Lauren Wills, 26, an interior designer and nearby resident since 2004.

"You should try to buy a special sandwich and see what they put in it," said Emily Worthington, 26, who works in fashion and lives in TriBeCa. "I'm afraid to go in there."

A third friend, as if on a dare, crossed the street and entered Ralph's. She returned with a dose of Alka-Seltzer.