Type “American Fork” in a Google search box, and its auto-complete feature will likely suggest a few words: “cave,” “bands,” “hospital.”

But the keywords it will not suggest are “shoe repair.”

Two years ago this month, the only shoe-repair shop in American Fork closed its doors after the owner, Lynn Pulley, decided to retire. It wasn’t the lack of work that prompted Mr. Pulley to call it quits — he worked 40 hours a week. “That’s just part-time. I used to work 80 hours,” he said. His three sons having different careers, he closed the shop, which was located on 13 Merchant Street, on Dec. 18, 2010.

The expectation in the current competitive job market is that someone would eventually replace the American Fork business of 30 years.

But the continuous absence of a cobbler in a town of 26,000 could highlight more than a shift in consumer spending as a result of decreased manufacturing costs of new shoes and the increased popularity of athletic footwear. It could also signal the possible loss of a trade which once prided itself on working with the material “the most stood upon than any other thing in the world,” in the words of the 18th-century English writer, William Hazlitt.

Mr. Craig Williamson, owner of Lucky Sole Shoe Repair, now the only shoe-repair shop in Lehi, a town of 47,000 people, said his business grew “significantly” since Mr. Pulley retired. “I get all the work I can do,” he said. “I’m not making much money, but I got plenty of work. Most people wouldn’t work for what I make.”

While shoe repair may have left American Fork, shoe retail is on the rise. From 26.2 to Walmart to Payless to Famous Footwear and Shoe Carnival, American Fork counts no fewer than 15 retail stores selling new shoes, exposing a growing fracture between the repair and buy-new mentality.

“There used to be a [shoe-repair store] in every town in Utah County,” said Mr. Williamson, who refuses to shop at Walmart. “Most shoes are made in China now. It’s hard to find some that aren’t.”

The dwindling numbers of well-trained shoe-repair people has Mr. Williamson concerned about the future of his trade. The combination of delicate shoes, sharp instruments and machinery and the need for hand and eye coordination take their toll on beginners; many don’t remain in the job.

“Who’s going to do it?” said Mr. Williamson. “I don’t know of any cobblers around here. There are few who came down from Mexico, and a couple opened shop in Orem. But they don’t speak English.”

Mr. Williamson said his kids don’t want to learn the trade.

When asked what will happen to his store when he retires, the 62-year-old cobbler who grew up watching his father and great-uncle fix shoes simply replied: 

“Do you want to buy the shop? I’d sell it in a heartbeat.”