The Country Store a Forgotten Icon
She pouted in the shadows beside the winding two-lane blacktop. Her gray weathered planks were held in place by Lucky Strike, Orange Crush and Little Miss Sunbeam, hugging a loaf of bread. Old men — probably in their thirties — sat on upturned crates on the rickety front porch, whittling their philosophies of life from bits of wood. Inside, amidst the sixty-watt shadows, the wonderful aroma of fresh bread and cakes mingled with the faint scent of kerosene from the barrels out back. The ice cream freezer and soft drink cooler sat side by side, whispering like old friends….
These are only a few of my memories of the old store that was owned by my Uncle Earl when I was a kid during the early sixties. This store was only one of the many country stores that graced each small neighborhood in those days. During that time period, almost every rural community had a store, a church and a school, all within walking distance to the people who lived in the neighborhood. Each store was unique in its own way, reflective of the owner, but some things were identical in all of them. That certain indefinable mix of sounds and smells, the dimly lit interiors and the friendly atmosphere could be found in each little country store, no matter where it was located.
Traveling into town was something the rural folks did only once or twice a month. Very few women owned cars or even knew how to drive. And for someone without a car, “Downtown” might just as well have been a million miles away.
It was nothing unusual for a parent to send their six-year-old children to the store for a loaf of bread, all by themselves. Everyone knew everyone else in the community and the parents watched out for all the neighborhood children. A loaf of bread could be bought for a quarter, and most of the time there were a few pennies extra for a candy bar or an ice cream for the child to enjoy during the walk home.
Soft drinks were available only in “returnable” bottles back then. The bottles were sent back to the soft drink bottling companies to be recycled. They could be returned to the store and the storekeeper would buy them back for a penny or a nickle each. One good day of collecting discarded drink bottles and returning them to the store netted a child more than enough to buy a sack full of their favorite candy, such as Kits or BB Bats, (delicious fruit flavored taffy candy) which were sold two for a penny, or Sugar Daddies, Sugar Babies, Bazooka Bubble Gum, Moon Pies, Candy Cigarettes that were made to look like the real thing and tasted like peppermint, and so many other wonderful treats, some of which have become extinct over the years.
The little country store was the hub of the community for decades. A visit to the store was a delight for the children and a pleasant chore for the women. It served as a gathering place for the men in the neighborhood, where they discussed the weather and argued about politics, religion, and which was the best TV western, Gunsmoke or Wagon Train. The outcome of many government election has been shaped, not in city halls or campaign rallies, but right there on the porches of these old stores. Many neighborhood problems have been solved by it’s citizens who discussed things rationally over a cold drink and a bologna sandwich, while lounging on milk crates or on the steps of these often dilapidated buildings. These country establishments were more than a place to buy food and other necessities — they were the social centers for the men in the neighborhood. A place for them to share news and views on national and local events.
All those little country stores are gone now, they’ve been replaced by modern quick-stop markets that all look the same except for the people behind the counters. The glaring florescent lights and spacious aisles leave nothing to inspire awe in a child. The country store atmosphere is gone and so are the wonderful sounds and smells and the tempting treats that a child could buy for a nickle and a couple of pennies.They have no front porches and no friends gather to whittle and discuss politics and weather. But they will live on forever in the hearts of those who remember them.
Tags: childhood memories, children, parents
Thanks, Leeuna. The country store in Wainfleet, where I lived between 1963 and 1968, was the cornerstone of village life. We lived about a mile outside the village on the Millrace Road (named, of course, for the stream that had once powered the village mill), an as you say, I often went for milk or whatnot on my own without any worries from anyone. (To be fair to cities, however, the entire time we lived in Windsor, Ontario, I walked over a mile to school every day and nobody thought anything of that either.)
In a recent visit to Wainfleet I discovered that the old general store was gone. I guess everyone has a car now and just goes into Welland or even St. Catharines whenever they want. I don’t know, but seeing the empty lot where the store had once been was a blow to me. That’s where I bought my first Doc Savage books, debated between a Three Musketeers bar or a Milky Way (a Canadian Milky Way — very different from the American version), and stared at the new product called Cheeze Whiz wondering if the name was somehow blasphemous.
As Bob Hope would say, “Thanks for the memories.”
Frank Lee Meidere´s last blog ..Chester doesn’t like me any more
Now I’m curious, Frank. What is the difference in a Canadian Milky Way and the American version?
Wow, this brought back so many memories with a melancholy overtoned nostalgia. I remember not having to lock your doors, every adult in the neighborhood was your parent, and policemen would stop and get out of their cars to join in with us kids playing sandlot football. Family dinners at 5:30, walking to the local corner store for treats with my little brother, playing without any technology outdoors all hours of the day with only our imagination to entertain us and fearing no evil as we ventured blocks and miles from home … sigh, those were the days, hmm?
The Old Silly
Marvin D Wilson´s last blog ..Our Noble, Essential Decency
Yeah, Marvin, those days are gone. I feel kind of sad for our kids today. They’ll never know what real fun is. I miss those days.
WOW! What nice memories. I remember when the local drug store delivered your prescriptions. We had a “five and dime” store that my brother and I could spends hours exploring.
Life seems to move so much faster these days. I hope today’s generation takes time to smell the roses.
ReformingGeek´s last blog ..Big Fish, Little Fish, and Bottom Feeders
Maybe someone will invent an app for the iPhone or iPad…call it “taking time to smell the roses”. I really miss those old days, Reffie.
There’s a TINY village 4 miles from us with an old country store that been there for 60 years or more; I think the place still sports the original paint, and the windows are covered with faded stickers for beer, chew, & cold drinks. There are handwritten notices selling kielbassa, perogies, & blood sausage up beside pictures of the locals with their fishing derby trophies or mounted bucks. You can buy ukrainian cds by a local artist, hunting & fishing licences, odds & ends. The store is also the local post office, and sometimes people come by and get smokes and the lady lets them run a tab – how many places do that anymore?
Venom´s last blog ..Venoms’ Snarky Survivor Recap
Wow, you’re lucky, Venom. Maybe you should take photos, write about it, anything to preserve it. Those things are rare treasures these days. Enjoy it.
Leeuna, I told you you’d get it together. See how good you right when you quit shaking.
Your article was great. Did people let the Coke lid slam when they finally got what they were looking for…did the loaf of bread always have a big dent in the middle where you all carried it under your arm? Did you try to buy 7 cents worth of candy, twice, so you could avoid the taxes. I like the comment you got from Ukraine, I’m headed over there to get some kielbassa or perogies…does that taste anything like ‘possum?
Yeah, Milton all that, and the delicious smell of the ice cream freezer…that’s something I have never forgotten.
“write”
Nice memories, Leeuna. I distinctly remember my mom sending me down to the day-old bread store with a dime to buy a loaf of bread. I also remember — very fondly — when my grandpa would use his janitor’s keys to open the soda machine at the carpenter’s hall and get me a grape pop. I always returned the bottle, and got a nickel for my trouble.
MikeWJ at TooManyMornings´s last blog ..After Work, I Flew Through The City At Night