My travels took me near an old beloved place this morning, and I had some time to make a few stops and pay some respects.
The old store was owned by the same man who owned the place my grandparents lived on (sharecroppers).
Charlie Kunath and my grandaddy had been good friends most of their lives.
He used to take me with him to that old store and what my grandmother had hoped would be a quick trip and back typically turned into an hour or more, especially in winter when things were an even slower pace and no one was in a hurry.
There was an old spitune by the potbelly stove in the center of the place, and Charlie's aim was abysmal. I learned pretty early in life what the typical blast radius was, and I never crossed his line of fire.
The shelves were stocked with Prince Albert tobacco, cardboard oil cans, 3 In One, BC powders, Campho Phenique, Castor Oil, and so on.
There were "nabs", moon pies, honey buns, canned goods, fresh sliced bread, thick cut bologna, and a big wheel of sharp cheddar. Assorted candies and 5 cent sodas.
Many a tall tale told in that old building.
As I rounded the bend, I fully expected to find old store either completely gone or in disrepair. A most pleasant surprise to see the exact opposite!
I contacted Mr. Kunath's grandson and asked who was restoring the old place. He confirmed that it was he who had been devoting as much free time and extra cash as he could to the project.
You just have to respect people who see value in these old things. I certainly respect him for that.
I wish there was an old photo of his grandaddy and mine sitting in the chairs by that old stove. It would be fun for he and I to get together and replicate it.
I'll follow up on that.
The old store was owned by the same man who owned the place my grandparents lived on (sharecroppers).
Charlie Kunath and my grandaddy had been good friends most of their lives.
He used to take me with him to that old store and what my grandmother had hoped would be a quick trip and back typically turned into an hour or more, especially in winter when things were an even slower pace and no one was in a hurry.
There was an old spitune by the potbelly stove in the center of the place, and Charlie's aim was abysmal. I learned pretty early in life what the typical blast radius was, and I never crossed his line of fire.
The shelves were stocked with Prince Albert tobacco, cardboard oil cans, 3 In One, BC powders, Campho Phenique, Castor Oil, and so on.
There were "nabs", moon pies, honey buns, canned goods, fresh sliced bread, thick cut bologna, and a big wheel of sharp cheddar. Assorted candies and 5 cent sodas.
Many a tall tale told in that old building.
As I rounded the bend, I fully expected to find old store either completely gone or in disrepair. A most pleasant surprise to see the exact opposite!
I contacted Mr. Kunath's grandson and asked who was restoring the old place. He confirmed that it was he who had been devoting as much free time and extra cash as he could to the project.
You just have to respect people who see value in these old things. I certainly respect him for that.
I wish there was an old photo of his grandaddy and mine sitting in the chairs by that old stove. It would be fun for he and I to get together and replicate it.
I'll follow up on that.
