Details Change but Stories Go On

We’ve visited daughters, grands, and friends throughout Western Kansas for several weeks and I’ve noticed Dollar Stores thriving in rural communities. Apparently, these replaced old-fashioned dime stores everywhere. What happened to the high ceilinged, wood-floored mom and pop shops similar to those Grace Stetz or my grandma and grandpa owned in Ellis, Bucklin, and Meade?

Times and people change, but there’s no way candy or toy aisles in today’s variety store hold the same appeal as vintage eye-level, glass-rimmed displays that captured a nickel-holding child’s attention. I’ve seen posts where folks of a certain age wish they could return once more to enjoy Grace’s or my gramma’s lemon-oil -scented exhibitions of the latest dollies, cap guns, or licorice bits.

I recollect the satisfaction of pulling open the heavy front door and stepping into a vast anything expanse of necessities people required. Curious explorers had to first navigate past a 4’ x 6’ divided candy display strategically located to capture interest and money. Wood dividers separated glass bins full of malt balls, chocolate stars, licorice babies, jaw breakers, caramels, and other cavity-inducing treats you could buy by the piece. Once you broke its spell, you traveled either left or right.

Kids usually chose left—toward the toys. Grandma and Grampa maintained a selection of Big Chief Tablets, coloring books and crayons, paints, plastic and metal cars and trucks, building blocks, and more. In addition, they placed a bouncy horse nearby so a young patron could ride and make birthday and Christmas lists while parents inspected needles, thread, underwear, mittens, hats, dishes, pots, pans, utensils and more.

A favorite section was the pottery display. The always dusted shelves were full of pastel vases and teapots decorated with flowers and pine cones in bas relief. While an adult attending auctions, I imagined Grandma and Grace would’ve benefitted by warehousing those Hull and McCoy pieces to finance their retirements. What they marked with $3.00 price tags, estate auctioneers sold decades later for a $100 or more.

From the time I first walked, I loved visiting my grandparents’ business. As family, we entered through the alley door where we first noted grandpa perched on a chair in his railed office, surrounded by still-boxed merchandise and stacks of unsold comic books, with an eagle eye view of the floor below. Few shoppers knew he watched their exploration of each department. He knew who’d left hankies unfolded or fingerprints on a shiny race car or who slipped something in their pocket before paying. Of course, it was Grandma or the clerk who returned mussed items to their former pristine conditions before the next customer visited.

While modern box stores keep rural residents in paper towels, soap, and bathroom products, visiting them isn’t anything like a trip to an old variety store. The lights, linoleum, and metal stands are too bright, and the candy is packaged as are the toys. A kid can’t try out potential purchases ahead of time. Besides, you can’t buy anything for a nickel!

Someday, our grown grandkids will reminisce fondly about the Dollar stores of their youth and tell their own youngsters what they missed out on. Details change, but stories go on.