My Gran and me (Anna, my Dad George’s mother)
The store my grandparents owned and operated was located at the front of their house. Their house was on the corner of the block and was designed to house a retail operation. On the corner of the city block facing the street was the door to the grocery store. Whenever someone opened the door to the store a large buzzer located near the ceiling in the doorway between the house and the store would echo throughout the house. It wasn’t an unpleasant buzzer but it was loud enough that one could hear it anywhere in the rest of the house. I think my grandparents took turns being on duty to respond to the buzzer so my grandmother could be free to go outside in the back yard to hang laundry or tend to her many household chores. In the summer when Gran was hanging laundry she’d put me n a tub of water to keep me cool. This was my swimming pool.
Cooling off in the hot summer time
When Gran wasn’t cleaning in the house she cleaned in the store. Everything was spotless and the inventory of canned and packaged foods was always neatly arranged. Gran arose in the morning before Pop and met the delivery man from the bakery. When I came for breakfast I knew I’d have my pick of the freshly baked goodies and chocolate donuts usually won out since my chocolate addiction began very early in lifeJ. These pastries would put Krispy Crème to shame. They were huge, fresh, warm, melt in your mouth delights. Gran also made fresh coffee every morning and workmen in the city and on their routes came by each day for coffee and pastries.
The corner store was where most people purchased all their groceries, paper goods and toiletries. This was before there were any super markets. Everything besides produce was purchased from my grandparent’s store. The competition was a farmers market in the city and truck gardeners who sold farm fresh produce from their wagons. I remember the wagons on the street curbs with melons, watermelons, and the largest brightest fuzziest peaces I’ve ever seen. The thought of those peaches makes my mouth water even now.
One summer day we got some peaches from a vendor and I asked Gran to cut the peach in half for me. Then I went outside and sat on the hot sidewalk next to a girl near my age who lived in the neighborhood.
I offered her half of my peach and though she was surprised she was very happy to sit next to me as we shared the joy of peaches together. We were like two old crony men sitting having a beer or smoke together while passing the time enjoying one another’s company. When my Gran saw what I did she later gave me the biggest smile and kissed me as her way of congratulating me for what I’d done. My little girlfriend was black or colored as everyone said back then. The colored and white kids apparently weren’t accustomed to playing together but somehow I just didn’t know the difference. I can’t explain why but our differences barely crossed my mind and I thought she was such a nice girl I could play with and feel close to. I liked her and played with her any chance I got.
I think Gran must have been amused at my innocence and lack of awareness about racial prejudices. I suspect she was also inwardly, maybe even secretly pleased. I heard plenty of slang and derogatory racial prejudiced words but I don’t recall hearing this Gran speaking uncharitably about others. She was a business woman and I saw her treat her customers the same regardless of their skin color. She could have given seminars on sales skills she didn’t know she had. She always smiled when a customer walked in the door, respectfully greeted them and spoke kindly to them as she asked questions about what they needed and how she might help. Sometimes customer trickled in the store one at a time. Regardless of the endless housework beckoning her, Gran was never in a hurry as she patiently waited a customer shopped or wanted to chat. I’m certain Gran planted the seeds of salesmanship in my little heart and brain.
Anytime I was hungry I could go in the store and decide which type of meat I wanted sliced form the deli refrigerator with the glass window front. I watched so many times my grandparents would remove the large rolls of bologna, ham or whatever meat or cheese the customer wanted. They adjusted the large, frightening electric slicing blade to the desired width depending on how thin or thickly sliced they wanted their deli items. Every time the blade made a slice the motor made a very loud racket. Gran handled the deli machines as well as Pop though they were large and it took strength to push the electric slicer back and forth. Gran was a short woman but her arms must have been as strong as the arms of many men.
I strolled into the store when I had a hankering for cookies, candy and the like. Spoiled I was when it came to sweets. That combined with the fact that for some unknown reason no one took me to the dentist until I was about twelve years old, I am lucky to still have all my own teeth. The work in my mouth has put several dentists’ kids through college and probably paid off their dental school loans too. How I wish sealants were invented when I was a child. As I feasted on chocolate cupcakes, donuts, Tandy Takes, ice cream bars, every kind of chocolate candy, sweet tarts, fireballs, etc., no one ever mentioned this steady diet of sweets might not be the best thing for my teeth or overall health.
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