Food is a strong trigger of memory.
Last week, we talked to MinnPost reporter Brian Arola about his recent story "Many Minnesotans already live miles from the nearest grocery store. What happens if it closes?"
The story is important in terms of rural places, economy and small business, but it also got us sharing stories. For our Question of the Week, we asked about what grocery stores mean to a community and the stores from our youths.
The texts rolled in!
Here's what we heard
Mike from Mendota Heights texted, "I grew up in St. Paul, obviously not a small town. However, we did have a neighborhood grocery store called Swanson's, which had its own butcher shop. Many days when I walked to school, my black lab Buck would walk with me, 'drop' me off, and on his way back home stop by the back door of Swanson's. After a few barks, the butcher would come out and give Buck a bone. Sitting in my classroom, I imagined him proudly walking home and spending the morning on our front porch gnawing away at his prized treat."
Mikki from Grand Rapids said, "The Piggly Wiggly in Grand Rapids would occasionally have their mascot at the store, which I found both thrilling and TERRIFYING, but he or she handed out Tootsie Rolls, so it was worth the trauma. I also remember before products had bar codes and everything had to be rung up manually and when certain foods (like strawberries) were seasonal and you couldn't buy them all year long."
We heard from Kyle, who also remembers shopping at the Piggly Wiggly in Grand Rapids. He said, "They gave you a plastic license plate type thing that matched your tubs of groceries. Then they would send outside on a conveyor belt for you to drive up so they could [load] the groceries into your car. Funny how that all went away and now it’s back with curbside pickup."
There's still at least one grocery store in Minnesota that offers drive-up service! As a teenager, I worked at Jahnke's Foods in Spicer, Minnesota, which is now part of the Teal's Market chain.
I sent many a plastic tub of groceries out the chute that went outside. Locals knew the drill, but I'd have to tell confused tourists, "Don't forget your drive-up numbers!" as I handed them plastic cards with numbers that corresponded to their tubs. It seemed like every Fourth of July, there would be at least one mix-up, where groceries ended up in the wrong car.
Siri from Bigfork said, "When I was very young, there was a small grocery store in Marcell. I remember slanted wooden floors, glass cases, racks of trinkets and eating orange push pops on the store's porch. It was magical."
Paul texted, "As a child in Grand Rapids, I remember the many trips to the Red Owl on Saturdays and then we stopped at Janicke’s Bakery before heading home. Two of our favorites a few years later were Potocnik's in Aurora and Parlanti's in Eveleth. There were always lines at the meat counters, but it was the smoky smells as you walked in that you can't forget."
Lori wrote, "My grandparents called it 'trading,' and every Saturday morning we went to the Red Owl. My grandfather would push me in a cart at break neck speed around the store while Grandmother got the groceries. It was great fun."
Listen to Heidi Holtan and me reminisce about grocery stores above! (Is it OK to sample a grape while shopping?)
What do you remember about grocery stores from the past? Let us know!
