I grew up, literally, in my grandfather's country store. I still have the
brass National cash register and the wooden cheese boxes where he kept the
little books for all the credit customers. Under the counter was the box of
all the little books that he didn't collect because someone had hard times,
the same folks that had a current book usually.

It was a small country community, no town at all. He had clothes,
groceries, gas and oil, hardware, nails, and cow feed. He could add up a
column of prices faster than anyone could punch them into a calculator or
cash register. He finally sold it the last time when he was 85. I say the
last time because he sold it and bought it back a couple of times. He just
couldn't stay away from the public.

I'll never forget things like the hoop of cheese kept warm on the butcher
block, nothing better with a handfull of crackers and a tomato or onion.
You could always get 10 cents worth of crackers, a slice of baloney, and
cold drink for lunch. Sitting around listening to old men tell stories is
an education in itself.

The story below was in my grandfather's words when was interviewed for the
paper after he retired.

"I believe the way opened in 1923, we opened a little store and stores at
Bassett, Texas in 1924 and have been on said highway 47 years. It was a
narrow road and part of it had not been asphalted in 1924. I furnished
gravel trucks to said road between Bassett and Sulphur River. When I first
opened up they were Model T Fords mostly and carried 1 1/4 yard [of gravel].
There was a plank bridge over Sulphur River at that time. The bridge caught
fire one weekend one time and the traffic had to turn at Maud and go by
Douglassville and back to Naples. It was a good highway and a way of earning
a living for lots of little merchants which is a thing of the past now. I
had $500 to go into business with and am enclosing a picture of my first
store. Cars were just coming in style and my wife and I had all the business
we could take care of. We had the only service store between Maud and
Naples. Mr. W.O. Bryan put me in a little 5 gallon pump and a 3 barrel
Lubestir and gave me credit for 250 gallons of gas and 30 gallons of oil and
told me when he comes back with more gas for me to have the money. He was a
fine man and gave me some sound advice. Also Mr. Bob Cargile had a wholesale
grocery in Mt. Pleasant and also at Naples, he gave me credit for $50 in
groceries. He was a fine man and I bought from him as long as he was in
business. Forty seven years brings about lots of changes. I have sold lots
of new tires for $5 each and many gallons of gas for 13 cents. It is
lonesome for me now. I had lots of people from Dallas and Little Rock that
came by once a month to once a year and always stopped with us. We always
had big crowds over the holidays. But all good things come to an end some
time. I just thank the good Lord that it lasted until my children were
educated and my pension was started."
This one was written by my dad.

The Peddler's Wagon. During the depression starting with the stock market
crash in 1929, the task of feeding one's family became difficult. Although
we made it better than many, Dad and Mom used every means at their command
to keep the store from going under. Most of the customers had little or no
money, competition was tough, profit margin almost non-existent, and losses
on credit accounts were staggering. Then, in the early and mid 1930's, the
peddler's wagon came into being again. It certainly wasn't a new idea,
having existed here and in Europe for several hundred years. It was called a
wagon (a hold over from earlier times when horse drawn wagons were used) but
was, in fact, a small store built on an early 30's flat bed Ford truck. Dad
built it himself.. It was stocked with the most frequently used essential
items that people needed--flour, coffee, sugar, salt, lard, thread, needles,
can goods and a sack or two of feed. The chicken coop tied to the back and
the egg box inside were for barter payments--the same as at the store. A
regular route was established along all the country roads from Simms to near
Dekalb and New Boston, usually following the mail routes. Two or three days
a week, we took the wagon and left early, stopping at every house. We took
orders for the next trip for anything we didn't have. My brother Boyce did a
lot of the driving, with Mom and I along. Dad sometimes went with the rest
of us at the store. I was the chief chicken catcher and egg-counter. Lloyd
Canant

Thanks for the memories Tom.
--
Ross
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