Bernie's--A Country Store

One of my earliest memories is of a small, ramshackle store that sat at the intersection of the road we lived on and one of the main county roads.  I feel as if I can even remember the first time I laid eyes on it.  It was set back from the road just a bit, to allow cars to pull up in front.  I can't remember if it had gas pumps or not, strangely.  What I do remember vividly is a big shady tree that made the front of the store extremely inviting, and a wooden ramp that ran up to the front door, perpendicular to the building.  I recall my dad stopping by the store, talking to the proprietor for a long, long time.  My little sister and I went up and down the ramp, over and over, giggling the whole time.  Were we a nuisance to the childless couple who ran the store?  I'll never know. 

A little bit like Bernie's, minus the ramp and the shady tree.

The man who owned and operated the store was Bernie, and his wife was a rotund woman named Marie.  Bernie was sometimes in a good mood, and generous, allowing us kids an extra piece of candy now and then.  Marie was usually pretty grumpy, and we didn't see her as often at the counter.  Both of them were part of the neighborhood, and knew our family, as I'm sure they knew every family in the area.  We lived in a rather rural section of the county, and having a small store to depend on for necessities was a great thing for all of us. 

This was an old-fashioned, wonderful little gem of a country store.  Bernie and Marie lived in a long, narrow wing behind the store-part of the building.  As I recall, the only thing that separated their living quarters from the store was a piece of cloth in the doorway between the two.  The entire building was made of white-painted wood.  There were signs advertising all the normal grocery items of the period.  My favorite was the old 7-Up sign with bubbles on it. There was a big window to the left of the door, looking in, and right there inside the store, in front of the window, was a big Nehi pop bottle cooler.  It wasn't like the standing pop machines we have now, where you put your money in, press a button, and the can or bottle drops down to the dispenser below.  This was a big rectangular box that sat on the floor.  Water kept the bottles cool.  You could easily open the lid of the cooler to see if it contained anything you were interested in before you inserted your money.  The mechanics allowed your bottle to be released when you put your coin in the slot.  My favorite was Nehi grape soda.  On a hot, dry day, nothing was ever better!

We lived about a mile from the store, and my sister and I were allowed to walk to Bernie's just about every Saturday while we were growing up, either with neighbor friends or on our own.  Mom gave us each a quarter and we set off.  In the 1960's, candy bars were either five or ten cents.  Butterfingers and Baby Ruth's were only a nickel!  Sugar Daddies, Junior Mints, and Milk Duds were only a nickel!  I remember splurging on a Chunky bar once.  That cost ten whole cents, and my young taste buds didn't think it was worth it.  Every Saturday we would show up at the candy counter across the main aisle from the register, and make our decisions.  Did we want MORE candy, or fancier candy?  We had a whole quarter to spend, and we needed to make wise choices.  I'm sure we spent way too long considering there.  But Bernie knew us, and knew our parents, and he was patient most of the time. 

This was one of those places that gave store credit, up to a point anyway.  Every once in awhile our family needed it.  We always paid Bernie back as soon as we got paid the next time.  Can you imagine a convenience store doing that now?  I sure can't.

The walk to Bernie's was almost as fun as the store visit.  As we walked we often scoured the ground for discarded bottles and cans in the ditches so we could turn them in to Bernie and get a few cents cash back to add to our candy allowance.  Part of our walk was fairly forested.  We owned property that extended along one side of the road quite a ways, so we knew that those were "our" woods and felt very safe there.  After we passed our woods there was a one-story house that was occupied when I was very young, but later was abandoned.  It was very mysterious to all of us kids who lived along the road.  None of us knew the people who had lived there, and we said it was haunted and we would run as fast as we could while we were in front of that house. We were always so relieved when we had passed it without any ghosts coming to get us! The second half of the walk was through agricultural prairie land and a Christmas tree farm.  There were high-tension electric lines running along this area, and we were both scared and fascinated with the buzzing noise they made. 

Bernie and Marie passed away long ago. There is still a store where Bernie's used to sit.  But it's a different building--modern, well-lit, with gas pumps.  The parking lot is bigger.  The shady tree is gone, as well as the ramp.  The big house across the street has been torn down, the family of our old schoolmates who lived there is scattered.  The walk to Bernie's looks different now, with more buildings along the way.  When I drive along the road I used to live on, I am nostalgic for those simpler times, when two little girls could walk along a country road without fear, to a welcoming little country store.

Did you have a little store like that while you were growing up?  There used be many of them around. Each had its own personality, but all were a part of a slower-paced, gentler time.