Slydell
Pancho
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2010
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I was putting this in the Random Thoughts and decided it deserved a thread of it's own. It's my remembrance of a time past. Every generation has them at one time or another. Maybe, someone else has one, too, and will post it.
They're not what they used to be. Still some good ones around, but generally, they're places to eat. Usually, some of the best places. But, let me tell you about a real Mom and Pop shop from my youth. It was known simply as Holloway's. It was, even at that time, an old clapboard building sitting on Sevierville Pike just before West Ford Valley Road. Right down from the old Prospect Church and Velda Rose Cleaners. Just before my Grandpop's house across from the old pond where we fished. Mr. Graves lived just before you got to the store. Down in the holler. He was the local postman. Drove a Henry J. The store had a short wooden porch. About 2 feet deep. A chimney always blew smoke in the cold weather. The smoke emanated from an old coal/wood stove located in the heart of the store. You could see it in the back when you entered the store. The store was one room. Wooden floors. Oiled and clean. In the summertime, you could smell the wood and snuff as you opened the screen door with the metal Kerns bread sign.. In the winter-wood smoke. Upon entry, you saw two glass cases on either side of the single aisle. The walls were about 14 feet apart. The case on the left had sewing items, watches, small cooking utensils, tobacco, snuff, etc. The case on the right was all candy. Bubblegum, candy bars, different kinds of drops, etc. There were shelved attached to the wall on both sides with canned (tin) goods. Bags of flour, sugar and such were beneath. There was a Coke machine just inside the door on the left where you could put your nickel in, twist a knob and be rewarded with a small Coke bottled in glass. On the bottom of the Coke was imprinted the name of the city where it was bottled. This was important when playing "Far Away" with friends. We would buy a Coke and bet a nickel whose was bottled the furthest away. There were no fresh vegetables as most people bought them at the Market House in Knoxville. This was a store for basic needs; except for the candy. The main aisle was probably 25-30 feet long. At the end was THE STOVE. This was the grown up area. They sat around the stove whether it was warm or cold weather. A gathering place for old/older men to chew the fat. Tell tall tales. Swap stories to see who fell for what. In the winter, there was always someone who would spit on the hot stove. Not sure why even today. Maybe to test the amount of heat exuded or to just smell the after effect. No one ever uttered a negative comment as the spit sizzled and steamed. I remember the worse words I ever heard there were sh!t or Hell or Damn. That was pretty much cussing in the day. Old cane chairs with old men killing time. Wasn't a lot else to do, 'cept kill time and enjoy. On the right of the stove was a curtain. Behind the curtain was where the Hollaway's lived. Behind the curtain, in the tiny space available, was a small parlor, kitchen and bedroom. The parlor was sparse with a small couch and two over stuffed wing chairs. Oval black and white pictures on the wall of past ancestors. There was no phone anywhere. In hindsight, there was no need. Old man Holloway always wore bib overalls. Ms. Holloway was portly and always wore a patterned dress with a full apron. Both wore button up black shoes. Both were jovial and kind. Back then, people would run a tab at the store. They knew who was good for it and who would need some help. Although prudent in their business affairs, they never wavered to extend credit to those in need. Progress has it's place in time, but so does this. It's a shame that the Holloways of the world are disappearing.
They're not what they used to be. Still some good ones around, but generally, they're places to eat. Usually, some of the best places. But, let me tell you about a real Mom and Pop shop from my youth. It was known simply as Holloway's. It was, even at that time, an old clapboard building sitting on Sevierville Pike just before West Ford Valley Road. Right down from the old Prospect Church and Velda Rose Cleaners. Just before my Grandpop's house across from the old pond where we fished. Mr. Graves lived just before you got to the store. Down in the holler. He was the local postman. Drove a Henry J. The store had a short wooden porch. About 2 feet deep. A chimney always blew smoke in the cold weather. The smoke emanated from an old coal/wood stove located in the heart of the store. You could see it in the back when you entered the store. The store was one room. Wooden floors. Oiled and clean. In the summertime, you could smell the wood and snuff as you opened the screen door with the metal Kerns bread sign.. In the winter-wood smoke. Upon entry, you saw two glass cases on either side of the single aisle. The walls were about 14 feet apart. The case on the left had sewing items, watches, small cooking utensils, tobacco, snuff, etc. The case on the right was all candy. Bubblegum, candy bars, different kinds of drops, etc. There were shelved attached to the wall on both sides with canned (tin) goods. Bags of flour, sugar and such were beneath. There was a Coke machine just inside the door on the left where you could put your nickel in, twist a knob and be rewarded with a small Coke bottled in glass. On the bottom of the Coke was imprinted the name of the city where it was bottled. This was important when playing "Far Away" with friends. We would buy a Coke and bet a nickel whose was bottled the furthest away. There were no fresh vegetables as most people bought them at the Market House in Knoxville. This was a store for basic needs; except for the candy. The main aisle was probably 25-30 feet long. At the end was THE STOVE. This was the grown up area. They sat around the stove whether it was warm or cold weather. A gathering place for old/older men to chew the fat. Tell tall tales. Swap stories to see who fell for what. In the winter, there was always someone who would spit on the hot stove. Not sure why even today. Maybe to test the amount of heat exuded or to just smell the after effect. No one ever uttered a negative comment as the spit sizzled and steamed. I remember the worse words I ever heard there were sh!t or Hell or Damn. That was pretty much cussing in the day. Old cane chairs with old men killing time. Wasn't a lot else to do, 'cept kill time and enjoy. On the right of the stove was a curtain. Behind the curtain was where the Hollaway's lived. Behind the curtain, in the tiny space available, was a small parlor, kitchen and bedroom. The parlor was sparse with a small couch and two over stuffed wing chairs. Oval black and white pictures on the wall of past ancestors. There was no phone anywhere. In hindsight, there was no need. Old man Holloway always wore bib overalls. Ms. Holloway was portly and always wore a patterned dress with a full apron. Both wore button up black shoes. Both were jovial and kind. Back then, people would run a tab at the store. They knew who was good for it and who would need some help. Although prudent in their business affairs, they never wavered to extend credit to those in need. Progress has it's place in time, but so does this. It's a shame that the Holloways of the world are disappearing.
