Saturday, February 28, 2015

Grocery Store

Welcome to Store Front Week here at OPOD. We will be reminiscing about bygone days when we actually purchased our stuff from small, independent, local businesses that were intimately a part of the community. The picture above shows a meat market and grocery store from 1916. The owner proprieter is pictured with his son, and one of his employees out front.

While this picture was taken in 1916, things were not much different in the 1960's in the area I grew up in. Our little community of 1,900 people had 2 small locally owned grocery stores. In addition, the bus station had a small grocery store. The owners were part of the community, and the businesses operated on the concept of exceptional customer service. Grocery shopping was not something you dreaded.

So, hopefully you all will share your memories of such locally owned shops this week.


  1. We had a small store on the corner of our block in Bend, Oregon....and I remember running a tab, paid each week. This was in the late 50's.

  2. My grandfather was a butcher and ran a small meat market and grocery store, probably very similar to this one. Unfortunately, I have no memories of it since he retired by the time I was born. We still frequent a small meat market/store in our rural town. Not for the big weekly grocery run, but for meat, eggs, milk, and bread. Great photo!
    -Anne K.

  3. My great grandparents ran a mercantile store, which carried all kinds of merchandise, from farm supplies and seed to groceries and clothing. That was in the early 20th c. My grandparents ran Ma and Pa grocery stores, in a small town in Eastern WA, and then in Seattle, in the 1930s. Both my father and older aunt worked in their grandparents' mercantile store during the summers as children from the time they were 10 or so, along with all their older cousins, for small change. They also worked in their parents' store, my dad until he was about 20. One reason they moved to Seattle was that during the Depression people had to run a tab, and couldn't pay it. The hope was that in the big city, things would be better. They really weren't, and when my grandmother died unexpectedly, my grandfather and dad couldn't run it by themselves. While my father had very fond memories of his grandfather's store, his memories of the Ma and Pa store were of unremitting hard work from which the family never really made a decent living. Not unlike many families in the Depression, no matter what their occupations. At least they ate well!


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.