Volume IV, No. 2, Winter 1976


Photography by Emery Savage

When I was six and started school, we went up to the store
and got pencils, crayons, a Big Chief tablet
and a "So you're starting school, are you?" from Russell, the storekeeper.
When I was nine I loved driving our little Ford tractor
the mile to the store to fill it with gas
and to buy dairy feed, hog shorts and chick starter.

Rader- (courtesy of Lols Roper Beard)




"Doc" Johnson was always sitting out front
whittling and chewing with Charlie
and discussing the Republicans, the weather
and that smart old coon down on Wild Cat Holler.
The screen door squeeked open and slammed shut
advertising Colonial bread and releasing the smell
of candy, bologna and molasses from the dairy feed.
Fly speckled tablets, campaign posters and sale bills filled the window.

Russ-(courtesy of Buddy McMahan)




"I can remember when this was a real town,"
my father would tell me.
"The blacksmith was right here, the mill over there.
We even had a bank once.
Now all that's left is the post office and the store."
He would buy me a candy bar or a bottle of pop before we left.

I remember the store and the post office.
But the post office "wasn't necessary" and was closed.
The store soon followed, leaving the empty building
as a reminder of an outdated community
and as places to nail campaign posters.



Denver, Arkansas- (courtesy of Lilllan Hall Tyre)





Copyright © 1981 BITTERSWEET, INC.

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