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The Christmas season is upon us and the whirlwind of calendar events will leave us breathless as we approach the holy day. The anticipation of Christmas Day fills us with a love for family and friends, as we gather to celebrate the birth of Jesus and to remember the loved ones who have passed away.
I was walking back from Nancy’s Treasures on Main Street the other day and as I stood on the corner of Locust and Main, a flood of memories came to mind of what the town was like when I was a teenager. During the late 1960s and mid 1970s, family businesses filled every building in town, and all stores were open until nine o’clock the week before Christmas, and they hired high school students to work and wrap packages during the rush.
Looking up the street on the left corner was Consolidated Outlet, which sold fabric and custom-made draperies and bedspreads. The store was operated by Owenby Manufacturing Company but Francis Barker was employed there and made me a bedspread and curtains with a bright hippie pattern in purple, chartreuse green and hot pink.
I can see Dennis Hughes at the door of the Western Auto, where the window displays were always filled with shiny bicycles and the latest toys.
Khouri’s Department Store was in the center of the block, and I remember the sweet smile on Mrs. McKeldrey’s face at the cash register, and I imagined Mrs. Truett wiping off the counters and tidying the shoe boxes. Kate Conley was dressing the window of Valleytown Men’s shop.
Nichols Department Store was on the corner of Locust and Main and now stands abandoned, devoid of life and the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers. I worked there on weekends until it closed, and I still miss the wonderful people. Through a stream of tears, I wished I could hear the sweet voice of Lucille Bell and Ruth Roper, and the laughter of Kate Hogsed as they wrapped Christmas packages for their customers.
I was standing in front of what used to be Lay’s Dime Store where Grady Garrett would be busy behind the candy counter, and around the corner was M.J. Jordan’s Market where Bertie Hardin was wrapping the freshest meat in town. I remember Ream Gibson in his leather apron and the smell of shoe polish, the squeaky door in Millie’s little dress shop, and the snow sleds and shovels Eleanor Ennis would place on the sidewalk.
I remember Emogean Matheson selling designer boots and shoes at the Kala Jean Shop, and Elmo Mosteller’s gracious smile while hanging garland around the television sets and stereo cabinets, Frank Ledford filling his vehicle to deliver holiday laundry, Charles Freel loading up furniture for a Christmas delivery, and John Boring standing in the showroom with the new Chevrolets.
On the other side of the street was Lorene Derreberry’s festive window, “Doc” Burch peeking through his glasses over the perfume counter, Kate Palmer’s toy display in Jack’s Dime Store, and at Maw Wood’s Cafe the hungry shoppers could eat the best hamburgers and fresh French fries they ever tasted.
The parking lot of the A&P Grocery store was like a “Norman Rockwell” scene, as the taxi drivers lined up on the bench to answer the phone that hung on a pole, ready to take the shoppers where they needed to go. I smiled at the memory of the “Taxi Stand” where Blaine Patterson, Dee Mosteller, Clarence Hogan, Lloyd Hardin, Mr. Mull, Raymond Kilpatrick and Wayne (Fodderblade) Conley sat talking and whittling while waiting for calls.
Jeff Brooks was walking around in the car lot ready for those in the market for a new Ford. Those of us who grew up here realize how special it was to be part of a small town and the quality of life we shared.
As I walked back to my car I was filled with emotions of joy and sadness over these people that I knew and loved. And I recalled a line from an old song in a western movie that said, “Nothing is forever, forever is a lie, you’ve only the moments between hello and goodbye.”
Kandy Barnard is a columnist for the Cherokee Scout. To talk about the Andrews Valley, call her at 361-3268 or email kandybarnard@gmail.com.