Traditions and Memories...
...A little bit of winter has settled in Ohio as we are getting blasted with a winter storm. The snow is stacking up, so much so that I may have to postpone going cross-country skiing until the roads are cleared!
Recently I attended a small gathering of former classmates and others from my hometown. Most probably due to our ages, the conversation drifted into the recollections of holidays past from our hometown. Each person shared a memory of various stores and restaurants in the town with assorted remembered events connected with each place. As the tales were spun the stories drifted into shared traditions and how they celebrated the holidays in the Magic City. As the stories poured out of everyone's dusty memories, the subject and locale shifted to a local mall that was now a ghost town, virtually abandoned in the declining economy. Oddly enough, I had memories to share about the location that the others did not have.
Many years ago, before the now defunct mall had been built, relatives of mine had owned a farm at the crossroads location down a bit from the mall. At the top of the hill where the roads crossed there had once been a country store where locally made cheeses were sold. The Amish came in their horse-drawn buggies to sell their goods. Sumptuous homemade pies and various canned jams, jellies, fruit preserves and vegetables were brought for sale. Raw milk and goats milk were available at the store. I loved looking at all the bushel baskets of locally gathered nuts in the shells. Glass bottles of homemade root beer and sarsaparilla lined the shelves. Cheeses of all sorts with all the accompanying accouterments beckoned to customers. Locally created maple syrups and maple candies were also available. There were barrels filled with briny pickles and a glass candy counter that sported every kind of penny candy known to man. Amish craftsmen brought hand-crafted wooden toys and there was always a colorful display of wonderful quilts for sale in the shop. Sacks of locally milled flour were available as well as a myriad of baking and cooking gadgets. A limited collection of clothing such as handmade aprons and practical things such as caps and hats were part of the store's wares. I loved getting an ice cream cone of homemade origin when we visited the general store. Grocery items such as homemade pretzels, breads and crackers were usually part of my family's purchases. I can remember being fascinated by the fancy molded butters as I enjoyed watching the store clerk measure off locally made butter with flat paddles. The clerk then used the paddles to pound the cool butter into a cube. Once the cube of butter was formed she wrapped it in wax paper for us to carry home with our other purchases. The smell of apples seemed to always permeate the general store. Bottled grape juice, apple cider, and the occasional Grape Nehi made their way to our home via a special trip to the general store. I can remember a time or two when my grandmother bought a few home-brewed bottles of beer as a special treat for my grandfather.
The sight of the Amish buggies parked outside the general store was always cause for excitement for me. It meant that they were delivering wonderful things for sale at the store. It was all so magical to me as a kid from the Magic city.
Apparently the special memories of the general store still hold a bit of magic because my classmates sat transfixed as I related my recollections from the old store. It was a good memory to share with everyone. It was a sweet moment for me, too. It was the first time I had stirred up all those memories of the old general store. It truly was a magical place for me as a kid, and the remembering of that magic was a special holiday present to myself and to the others who listened to my story.
I hope all who read this blog will have such good memories to share with families and friends. Merry Christmas to everyone and I hope all of you are working on making many new and wonderful memories in this New Year...
Recently I attended a small gathering of former classmates and others from my hometown. Most probably due to our ages, the conversation drifted into the recollections of holidays past from our hometown. Each person shared a memory of various stores and restaurants in the town with assorted remembered events connected with each place. As the tales were spun the stories drifted into shared traditions and how they celebrated the holidays in the Magic City. As the stories poured out of everyone's dusty memories, the subject and locale shifted to a local mall that was now a ghost town, virtually abandoned in the declining economy. Oddly enough, I had memories to share about the location that the others did not have.
Many years ago, before the now defunct mall had been built, relatives of mine had owned a farm at the crossroads location down a bit from the mall. At the top of the hill where the roads crossed there had once been a country store where locally made cheeses were sold. The Amish came in their horse-drawn buggies to sell their goods. Sumptuous homemade pies and various canned jams, jellies, fruit preserves and vegetables were brought for sale. Raw milk and goats milk were available at the store. I loved looking at all the bushel baskets of locally gathered nuts in the shells. Glass bottles of homemade root beer and sarsaparilla lined the shelves. Cheeses of all sorts with all the accompanying accouterments beckoned to customers. Locally created maple syrups and maple candies were also available. There were barrels filled with briny pickles and a glass candy counter that sported every kind of penny candy known to man. Amish craftsmen brought hand-crafted wooden toys and there was always a colorful display of wonderful quilts for sale in the shop. Sacks of locally milled flour were available as well as a myriad of baking and cooking gadgets. A limited collection of clothing such as handmade aprons and practical things such as caps and hats were part of the store's wares. I loved getting an ice cream cone of homemade origin when we visited the general store. Grocery items such as homemade pretzels, breads and crackers were usually part of my family's purchases. I can remember being fascinated by the fancy molded butters as I enjoyed watching the store clerk measure off locally made butter with flat paddles. The clerk then used the paddles to pound the cool butter into a cube. Once the cube of butter was formed she wrapped it in wax paper for us to carry home with our other purchases. The smell of apples seemed to always permeate the general store. Bottled grape juice, apple cider, and the occasional Grape Nehi made their way to our home via a special trip to the general store. I can remember a time or two when my grandmother bought a few home-brewed bottles of beer as a special treat for my grandfather.
The sight of the Amish buggies parked outside the general store was always cause for excitement for me. It meant that they were delivering wonderful things for sale at the store. It was all so magical to me as a kid from the Magic city.
Apparently the special memories of the general store still hold a bit of magic because my classmates sat transfixed as I related my recollections from the old store. It was a good memory to share with everyone. It was a sweet moment for me, too. It was the first time I had stirred up all those memories of the old general store. It truly was a magical place for me as a kid, and the remembering of that magic was a special holiday present to myself and to the others who listened to my story.
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