By Dr. Curtis Varnell
The elderly lady stood with a puzzled look on her face. I could read from her expression she didn’t quite know what to do next. Her groceries were sacked, placed in the basket, and the stock clerk had just walked away. The store and its chain had recently enacted a new policy which assumed that the customer could deliver their own groceries to their car and she was clearly not accustomed to it.
From bringing your own sacks to checking out your own purchases, services offered by businesses has greatly changed in the past several years. A flash-back to my childhood clearly indicated that we live in a different era. My first job was sacking groceries, delivering them to the car, packing them inside carefully, and remembering to thank the customer. To have neglected any facet of that expectation and Mrs. Douglas would have had me searching for a new occupation.
A trip to the A and W Root Beer drive-inn was a weekly treat. Dad would pull in and order two frosty mugs and the car hop would bring out the large mugs plus three free small mugs; one for each of the kids. From there, we might travel to the local DX station. The attendant would appear immediately with a big smile on his face. “Filler up Sir,” he would ask. “Pop the hood on your car and I will check that oil for you.” If you filled up, he would mark your small card and, after five fill-ups, you would get a set of plates, a wall hanger, or similar gift. At twenty-nine cents a gallon, a fill-up might cost as much as five dollars.
Walk into any department store and you were meet immediately by a salesperson who would assist you in finding the exact matching shirt, tie, pants, and shoes. During holidays, they offered free gift wrapping and, if you didn’t have enough cash, they would place it on lay-away and you could pay it out as money came in. Our local stores at Midway would allow you to purchase on credit. Mr. Mosley simply wrote what your purchased down on a pad and kept track of what you owed. My dad was working steady at the rock quarry and made $1.25 cents per hour. When he got the weekly check of fifty dollars, the first thing we done was to go by the stores and square up any debts that were owed. When I was born at the Paris hospital, the same system was used and my parents paid off the $115-dollar debt to the Smith doctors in installments. I hope I was worth it!!
Cars were cheap. A Volkswagen beetle cost a whole $1,600 plus you got free oil and lube for the first two years. When new products came out, the companies would send sales reps around the community handing out free samples. I can still remember the Mr. Clean salesman leaving that first bottle with the bald headed man label on our doorstep in England, Arkansas.
Stores gave away S and H green stamps to encourage you to purchase goods. Stamps were allotted according to your amount of purchases. You could then turn the complete books in for prizes. I still remember placing a wad of them in the offering plate and blaming Jean Turner for offering her stamps as tithe. I don’t think she found it as funny as did the pastor who found time to refer to it during his sermon.
I find myself remembering my past with fondness; accentuating the good and forgetting the bad. I guess that is just a product of getting older. I pushed the cart out for the lady, stored her good, smiled and thanked her for shopping. A good day for both of us!
