Ah, those good old days, running around town, getting out of my mother’s hair until I heard the cow bell ring. My father thought that was hilarious, that cow bell. We lived on the edge of town, still very much in town, and there were no cows, but having his wife call his five kids home with a cow bell suited his sense of humor nicely. What did I know? I thought all kids went home when their mothers rang cow bells.
My childhood neighborhood was dotted with small stores; we didn’t have to go farther than a block or two to buy anything we might need.
If my mother needed cigarettes, one of us would be dispatched to Bootsies, a tiny store that sold mostly cigarettes, beer and candy, just a stone’s throw from my home at that time. I’d go through Suzie Cook’s back yard which was adjacent to mine, cross Stevens Street, and buy a pack. I was very young when we lived in that house, no more than seven, but old enough to be entrusted with money, and able to cross the street all by myself. By the time we moved from that house to another very nearby, I’d been walking, alone, to school a half mile away, for two years. A big girl!
Even closer to my home, and just across the street from Bootsies, a resident had a sundries shop that he operated out of his garage. I can only remember getting candy from that one. Beeman’s gum. I still like that gum on those rare occasions that I find a pack.
If I needed a present for a birthday party, I had to walk one long and one short westward block to a larger store on the corner of Pearl and Brooklyn streets, where there was a small variety store. When I was about ten, my mother sent me for a present for one of my brothers’ friends. I can still see her face when I returned with a stuffed animal, a toy for a much younger boy. She was not happy she’d have to go get that present herself.
If anyone had a hankering for the best cinnamon rolls ever, it was off to Frederick’s for me, the same long plus one eastward short block away. There, we could also buy milk, bread, cheese, paper, small toys and the like. This was the biggest store on our side of the railroad tracks.
Despite all these wonderful stores very near my home, I did have a favorite. Just down the street from my second home in town was a butcher, Mueller’s. The owner was the grandfather of a good friend of mine and his shop was just behind her house, so I spent a lot of time in there. Patty’s grandfather and his assistant were jovial sorts, always welcoming, kind, and generous with bits of candy they’d take out of large candy jars on the counter. At Christmas time those jars would be full of ribbon candies, peanut clusters, mints and other candies that my own uncle Steve had made just one block away. I remember that the front of the store, east facing, was quite dark, but that the back of the store behind the counter and where the meat was cut, weighed, packaged and stored, was very bright. Perhaps this was because of the welcoming greeting we kids always received when we walked in.
I’ve moved back to my hometown, to the very house my uncle made all those candies that my friend the butcher sold at Christmas. We have very little trouble in this town, but beware should you cross the law in some way! Your name and address will appear in the local newspaper, along with your offense. Alas, drugs are here. These small communities take whatever money they can get from government agencies, and allowing rehab and group homes comes with a lot of money. Drugs follow. We have homeless people, meth labs, drug runners and all that now, but still very little crime, possibly because in this hillbilly town, nearly everyone is well-armed.
All the small stores are gone though, lost to Kmarts and regulations. Where the butcher once did a very brisk business, there remains only a foundation of the building. Bootsies still looks the same from the outside, without the store visible through the oversized front window. Fredericks is a laundry mat. The variety store is a storage building. There is one small store that is stilI in semi-operation – one vending machine on the porch noisily dispenses sodas.
I walk by the locations of these stores I once knew so well, and reminisce on those good old days, living in a town that seemed idyllic to me then, and still does today. I’m happy I returned.
Maybe I’ll open a little store in my garage.
This is my participation in the first week of the year-long initiative Memoir Monday hosted by @ericvancewalton.
I'm out of town until Tuesday, and so I have no pictures of these establishments, now or then. I'll edit this post with pictures of all these places as they are now when I get home. Gotta have shots for the memoir!
The image is of me and my younger sister sitting on the front steps of the house we lived in when buying cigarettes at Bootsies was on my daily to-do list. I'm sure I put on shoes before I took the 200 foot trek, but I wasn't much older than I am in this shot. Things sure were different back then!
I love this small glimpse into your past and the fact that the sound of cow bells brought you home. You wrote this beautifully, I was with you every step of the way, such a wonderful read xxxx
And yours is such a wonderful comment! Thank you!
Wonderful memories! I felt as if I was strolling the same streets decades ago.
I miss the old neighborhood stores. We had a very old man in our neighborhood named, Edgar, I think he retired from the railroad. He sold bikes and bike parts out of his garage. He literally had an entire bike shop in his garage. I spent so much of the money I made from doing yard work in there. Those small businesses were like the glue that held the community together.
There was something special about walking in and someone knowing you by name, joking, remembering your preferences and even pumping our gas (it was almost like we all had concierges). All that is gone now, except for a few very rare cases or if you're extremely wealthy. Life today is much more homogenous and lonesome, you can go days or weeks without having any contact with people.
It's so much fun to walk through these memories. Thank you for participating!
It was my pleasure! I looked at my new home with old eyes, thanks to you.
my memories today -
looking at my new home
with old eyes
memory -
looking at the old
with new eyes
Just goofing around. Not bad though!
Nice! A shift in perspective.
I know that every generation harks back to the days of their youth as a golden age, but ours really was. It was the best of times to grow up when things still made sense and the world was a much less threatening place.
I can compare my life to those of my parents and my children, and you and I had this nice in-between time of feeling safe. Afghanistan was even a safe place for women. All gone now!
yeah, the human consciousness had not yet been fully tipped into the surreal.
Check this movie out:
Thank you for taking us on a trip back to the town where you grew up @owasco. Good old days for sure! I remember those jars of candy. A box of matches were so cheap that we'd end up buying a couple of candies to round up the price.
I've never heard a cowbell, but quite ingenious! Nowadays we call the kids on their cellphones!
Wonderful that you're back there. Have you seen any of the people who lived there during those years?
Enjoy exploring your childhood town.
Looking forward to the photos but you've told the story so well that I can picture it all!
Wonderful memories @owasco xxx
Thank you! You're so sweet.
One of my best friends from high school moved back here about 30 years ago, after travelling the world. She got well established, and has introduced me to several very cool women - I had an instant social network soon after I arrived. I still have a few cousins here, and a strong connection to the remaining Greeks in town; when I was young, there were many Greeks, now there are about two dozen of us in all. I know a lot of people here, who knew me as a child, some of them children back then themselves. We love to talk about the old stores, the old characters. I love having all this back again.
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Thank you!
And for that read first thing this am, I'm glad you returned too.
Aw...
i love this types of nostalgic posts so so much! cant describe how much i love this. please keep posting more glimpse into the past post like these. much love 🩶
Thank you!
The butcher sold candies? With us, he gave us a thick slice of liver sausage or something else, same if we visited the shop that sold cheese, the bakery treated on rolls and the fruit made a great treat in the next shop. 😁
Today you need to be 16 or 18 and show your ID if you want to buy cigarettes or alcohol.
Thanks for the enjoyable read and welcome back in your hometown.
Thanks! I really like living here, partly because I have so many pleasant memories wherever I go.
Sounds as if your memories and the presence are not too different, it could be the opposite too. That would spoil all those great memories of childhood.
I know as I saw the neighbourhood of my childhood back I was shocked. Back then meadow was where they started building houses. I loved the house, the space. Today it's a ghetto :(
So many fond memories wrapped up in places where we grew up, nice being able to return, sad much has changed we hang onto what we remember.
Stores back then were fun to visit, running daily errands on our roster irrespective of age it was safe. Most small stores we got to know members of families, children the same age normally, or simply over time.
Look forward to hearing more, have a great day!
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I live in a town where everybody knows everybody, and I love that. People are so well behaved here! Friendly and kind. I miss the small stores though, the people in them. They smelled a lot better than grocery stores do now, too. Thanks for your support!!!
Very few of our old stores remain, mostly in rural regions. Knowing people in neighbourhood has slowly diminished here with movement over the years. Sad as we once were a friendly caring little village.