I have absolutely no memory of a Hammond grocery store until I was maybe 8. We ate three meals a day, so food stuff must have come from somewhere. You know from previous comments that Daddy raised and butchered beef and pork (complete with a stone block smoke house). Chickens were fenced in the back yard and fish, squirrel, and deer rounded out meat needs. The vacant lot on the corner was a Victory Garden. Milk, bread, and Kool-aid for the summertime and ice berg lettuce must have required a shopping trip, yet I have selective amnesia for that part of my life.
My first put a name to it store was a small privately owned one four houses down from our house on Linden Ave., Harry’s Grocery. The Jacksons went to some church besides First Baptist. His wife and daughters who ran the cash register and stocked the shelves wore maxi dresses with high necks and long sleeves and the girls had braids hanging down their backs that I envied. Mother could either call down her order or go pick it out and a high school boy would deliver in the afternoon. It stayed in business until the 1970’s. Our boys in early elementary years could walk down by themselves for an afternoon treat while Granny stood on the sidewalk and watched. They could choose a candy, tell Mr. Harry to charge to Mrs. Emeleen, say thank you, and walk back. A guided independent adventure.
Then two chain stores anchored the shopping for a bit; one may still be there. Albertson’s was on the north side of town and my first memory of fruit and vegetables in bins. It had frozen goods and a flower department. Even in the late 1990’s, when I visited Mother, we would stop to pick up a pot plant to take out to the cemetery for Daddy’s grave. Its equal on the south side was A & P, a real draw for a small town. It had ads in national magazines. We bought coffee there. It sold beans – Dark Roast – and had a grinder. I could dump the beans in the top, choose the size of ground, and hold the bag carefully underneath while the machinery did the work and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air.
Grocery stores are for comestibles and cleaning products. This week I remembered their secondary used to be purpose. We lived on Rice Blvd. for 42 years and four blocks down was Rice #1 of a family chain in Houston. In addition to shopping, it was the neighborhood news room. I would stop in on the way home from school and mix and mingle with other Southampton families. I could send children to walk the four blocks for the last minute needed item. The manager and checkers knew my name. For years, and especially during the pandemic, get in and get out or have it done for you was the call of the day. Then, last Thursday, I recognized a church member in Kroger. We stopped and another hadn’t seen lately friend joined us. We blocked the aisle while we caught up on moves and new grandchildren. Loading bags in the car, I felt more connected to the world than I had in a long time. Obviously, there’s not a Bible verse about grocery stores. There is one about the sweetness of shared conversation.
Pleasant words are a honeycomb,
Sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. Proverbs 16:24
Let Me Tell Ya 