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Mr. and Mrs. Grocer...

by Rebecca Carpenter

When I was a child, my mother and I shopped at an establishment that was truly a mom-and-pop grocery store. It was owned and operated by a husband and wife, usually with one helper. Occasionally, one of their children would also be helping out, though they had jobs elsewhere.

It was such a small store that no one had to ask if we brought bottles---the people who worked there could see every customer entering the store. While Mrs. Grocer ran the checkout, Mr. took care of the meat department. Their helper usually kept track of the stock on the shelves, and did the bagging.

Though I had been to much larger stores in neighboring cities, and to other small stores in my small hometown, this was my favorite place to go shopping. They had an amazingly large selection of products for a small business. There were usually at least two national brands of things available. And their produce was frequently from their own home garden, or from nearby farms. Good selection of toys and comic books, too!

On slow days, I would finish collecting the items on my part of the shopping list, then I would go visit with one or the other of the owners while my mother satisfied her browsing urge.

Visits with Mrs. Grocer were conducted at the end of the checkout stand. I had permission to sit at the end of it, and occasionally would help out by replenishing the paper bags while she replenished the stock of S & H Green Stamps and their redemption books. We had many long conversations, occasionally interrupted by a customer. When my mother was through with her shopping, she would come and join the conversation.

When my visits were with Mr. Grocer, they were at the meat case. Eventually I got old enough to be allowed to come behind the meat counter, and go into the freezer to see the sides of beef waiting to be cut into steaks and roasts. I loved watching him work what seemed like magic, taking such a huge thing and cutting it into something small enough to cook. I liked watching the various pieces of large equipment---the grinder and slicer---do their magic, too. And I was particularly fond of the tiny iron used to seal the plastic wrappers on salt pork and fatback. Everything else was wrapped in the traditional cream-colored butcher paper and sealed with white tape that had the store name printed on it. The price was written on the package with a red marker Mr. Grocer kept in his apron pocket.

Special services were pretty much the norm at this store. There were many customers who had standing orders for meat, usually for Saturdays. Mr. Grocer kept up with these orders, and had the packages ready when the customers came in. And customers who wanted bones for soup or for dog treats knew there were usually bones available, free of charge. And if you wanted an item the store didn't already have in stock, all you had to do was ask, and it would be ordered for you.

Many customers charged their groceries. Mrs. Grocer kept a recipe box to hold the charge slips, which were written on the same sort of pads often used for restaurant orders. At the end of the month, she would add up the various entries on each slip, knowing that the customers would come in on their paydays to settle up. You got your Green Stamps when you paid your bill.

The store also offered delivery. To have your groceries delivered, you'd just call the store. Whichever employee was least busy took the call, and went around the store to gather up the merchandise. This was really a help to their older customers, especially those who were widows. Mr. Grocer usually did the deliveries, either at lunchtime or when the store closed for the day, depending on when the order came.

The store closed in the mid-1980's, when the couple decided to retire. They retained ownership of the building, which is now used by an auto supply business.