The Neighborhood Grocery Store

They used to be everywhere.

Little grocery stores peppered the landscape of towns across America.

Every neighborhood had one.

My family owned a small grocery store in Hayti in the late seventies.

We were one of many.

We not only sold groceries, but a little bit of everything.

The old neighborhood grocery stores were more than just a place to buy food.

For one thing, we offered credit. That’s right, you could come in and charge your items, and pay them off at the beginning of the next month.

We also delivered groceries to your home.

It was a hangout. A place to fellowship.

We had the essential nod and slobber bench out front where men would gather and discuss the events of the town.

In fact, we had two.

A lot of these little stores offered hot food, or a good ole bologna sandwich to get you through the day.

That store of ours had the coldest bottled soda I ever drank.

Slushy ice formed in the top inside of the bottle.

You take that soda and a Butterfinger candy bar and you had something special.

Most of all, these stores offered service.

We sacked those groceries and carried them out to the car.

We knew all about our customers. We laughed and cried with them.

I miss those old neighborhood grocery stores.

Huge supermarkets and self-check out lanes just aren’t the same.

It was a different time, one I feel we can never get back to.

At least I have the memories.

Memories of wearing that red apron, stocking shelves, and delivering groceries to the neighborhood, while drinking the coldest Dr. Pepper in the county.

See you out there.