Memories about Davie Jones' store.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
I still lived with my grandparents till 1968 when I went away to university. So I know they still owned it then. I think it was after my grandmother died in that my grandfather didn’t want to do it anymore. I moved back for a few months when I was about 20 and Jim was already running the store and my grandfather wasn’t in there anymore. He had moved to a little house down the road alongside the store. He lost some of his laughter after my grandmother was gone and he was tired. Shortly after that, he moved to Cranbrook B.C.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
Back to the store. He used green\/blue paint a lot outside and in. Maybe he got a good special on it … I used to think it was because he liked the colour. The inside of the store, when I was a kid had cement floors painted with navy boat paint – again I think it often was green or gray. My job was to sweep it every day … I think I got a nickel for that job or something from the candy counter. We would throw down something called ‘dust bane’ on the floor … I thought it was called that because it made the dust scared and it would run away … active imagination as a kid. Actually, it would somehow catch and hold the dirt so that the dust did not fly up into the air. I took my brooming very seriously not letting any dust bunnies get away.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
What I really liked when I was younger was the soda fountain. I got to make sodas, floats, milkshakes and ice cream cones. I was a kid so I always made good ‘kid-size’ cones with the ice cream leaning over the sides. We had tea in china teapots and fancy tea cups, there was also mugs and instant coffee, vile strong smelling stuff – (I probably put too much in because I always wanted them to have good value) ‘Maxwell House’ coffee, and Nestle Hot chocolate and instant ‘quick’ for the kids. I saved the free trinkets and trade cards that always came with them.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
My grandmother would make sandwiches and sometimes sweet cakes. I had a high stool of my own on the other side. And if my grandfather was doing the talking and visiting with locals, I would always pull up a wooden pop crate and sit there very quietly and listen. That way I got to learn a lot about the town and the people … even if I didn’t understand it made me feel very important to be included and not sent away. Originally there were about 6 high stools around a high counter on the right as you came in the store. It was soda fountain type just like other places had in the 50’s. But the stools were high … were made from real leather and they had backs on them that you could lean back when you sat and they swiveled. I wasn’t the only kid who liked to sit in the chairs and turn them round and round till we were silly giggling and dizzy. I still remember the sound of kids laughing around that magic part of the store. A little over to the side were the old bubble gum machines with gum in little plastic shells with prizes inside. Just the right height for kids to put their noses to and stare inside the glass. Across from the soda counter to the back of the seats were the coca cola pop coolers. The first ones were the kind you opened from the top … a dual folding affair and if you were 5 or 6 you could just stand on your tippy toes and look inside of the cooler. I loved fishing out the small bottles of coke. Mini half sizes. Or the orange crush, flavoured with real oranges in those days.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
When there were fairs or events my grandfather used to supply long rectangular metal containers with cola and root beer advertisements on them or round half tubs. You’d fill them with ice and they would last most of the day. My grandfather was always giving me small jobs to do and one of mine was to empty the water out if too much ice had melted. Funny, the things that we remember. The events were usually down at town hall park – most often some of the refreshments were paid for by, the lions club or the council etc. and kids were given tickets to use so that they could have a pop, chips, and a hot dog no one would be left out because they didn’t have money. That was in the 50s, events like May Day or Sports Day, Town Picnics and other special times. Kids really looked forward to that – I know I did.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
By the late 50s early 60s the stools dwindled down to just 2 and the counter grew smaller. It always made me a little sad to see what I considered the kid and recreation area getting cut down to a smaller size. The sodas, milkshakes stayed awhile longer, the sandwiches disappeared when my grandmother’s enthusiasm waned, and sweet cakes became ‘twinkies’ sold as pairs in little plastic packages. Less stools meant less locals have chit chats and sorting life out at the soda bar. Personally I thought that was part of the job of being a store … being a local gathering place. It made no sense to me to make it smaller but that was in the 60s and times were changing.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
In the early 1960’s there was a small café on the corner of Lougheed Highway and Harris Road, and younger kids started going there after school and hanging around, sharing French fries and pop. Later a bowling alley opened up near the town hall and I learned how to set pins so I could get free time on the pool tables and bowling lanes. That became a ‘teen’ hangout in the evening since the closest A&W was in Haney and you had to have a car to get there much later again the building was sold and made into a soap factory. Another one of those things that never made sense to a kid.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
I liked Sundays, my grandfather always had the store open … so as soon as I was old enough about 9 I would hold the fort while others were at church. And I had my regulars … the ones that instead of going to the church would come and drink coffee and tea instead. There were some comers and goers and a few constants. Some snuck away from their wives instead of going to church. I remember there were 2 or 3 older men … they showed up most Sundays. They were a little bit like hermits and refused to go to church … they’d snort and say ‘no way’ … ‘let them pretend – do-gooders and high falooters go’ … I thought they were funny and kinda and sweet in their own way. They would tell me stories about the ‘good old days’ … they would get a real ‘story gab’ going on some days. I remember one of the older men used to live in a very tiny one-room house down Harris Road past Ford Road ways. He would repair the bikes in town and do other small tool repairs. I don’t know how old he really was cause when you’re ten everyone looks really, really old and you can’t ever imagine that you will get old like that, but I thought they were kind and a bit funny, so I looked forward to listening on Sundays. And I think they liked it that I gave them bottomless tea and I sometimes snuck them some cookies to go with it from the house. We were kind of like a little mini club of our own till the folks got out of church, they always left before the churchy crowd came to do their Sunday shopping.<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
Those few stools heard more stories over the years than one could ever imagine. All around the store but especially that corner. There were neon lights because companies would give them to my grandfather for advertising. I loved the colours they made a magic hue of the rainbow. We had them everywhere in the window on the walls. At night when the main lights were turned off I would go and sit and the stools and swivel around … seeing everything in neon light colours. It was great. Sometimes I would go in there at night and I would read comics till under the light of an old neon clock and run and hide if someone pulled up to see if the store was open. It was my special time. Where my mind could run wild in the imaginary world of comic books under the dreamy hue of rainbow lights. What kid couldn’t love that?<\/div>\r\n
<\/div>\r\n
My grandfather was a very hard-working man. He would open the store in the morning at 8 am and we would close at 9 pm at night. I was always game for working in the store and manning the till. And I would always get to read comics if it got quiet … so sometimes I would be in there in the evening between customers. I could do small bills and sales. If it was too complicated or they wanted my grandfather I would pull on a string that went through a bunch of complex pulleys and such and it would ring in the house out back behind the store room and one of my grandparents would come out and take over. Eventually, by 10, I had 2-hour shifts of my own in the store. I loved working in there. I loved the different characters who would come through and how people could be so different and often they did not realize it. I got to see them all as they came through the store, a very interesting way to learn about people. Well clearly we are influenced by our memories … and memories tend to be more selective than we like.<\/div>\r\n
<\/i><\/div>\r\n
Thank you, Colleen Graham, for your memories!<\/i><\/div>","SEO_LINK":"collen-graham-memories-of-her-grandfathers-store","VIDEO_LINK":"","SOUNDCLOUD_LINK":"","IMG1":"","IMG2":"","IMG3":"","IMG4":"","IMG5":"","IMG6":"","IMG7":"","IMG1_THUMB":"","IMG2_THUMB":"","IMG3_THUMB":"","IMG4_THUMB":"","IMG5_THUMB":"","IMG6_THUMB":"","IMG7_THUMB":""}X
Collen Graham Memories of her grandfathers store
Memories about Davie Jones' store.
I still lived with my grandparents till 1968 when I went away to university. So I know they still owned it then. I think it was after my grandmother died in that my grandfather didn’t want to do it anymore. I moved back for a few months when I was about 20 and Jim was already running the store and my grandfather wasn’t in there anymore. He had moved to a little house down the road alongside the store. He lost some of his laughter after my grandmother was gone and he was tired. Shortly after that, he moved to Cranbrook B.C.
Back to the store. He used green/blue paint a lot outside and in. Maybe he got a good special on it … I used to think it was because he liked the colour. The inside of the store, when I was a kid had cement floors painted with navy boat paint – again I think it often was green or gray. My job was to sweep it every day … I think I got a nickel for that job or something from the candy counter. We would throw down something called ‘dust bane’ on the floor … I thought it was called that because it made the dust scared and it would run away … active imagination as a kid. Actually, it would somehow catch and hold the dirt so that the dust did not fly up into the air. I took my brooming very seriously not letting any dust bunnies get away.
What I really liked when I was younger was the soda fountain. I got to make sodas, floats, milkshakes and ice cream cones. I was a kid so I always made good ‘kid-size’ cones with the ice cream leaning over the sides. We had tea in china teapots and fancy tea cups, there was also mugs and instant coffee, vile strong smelling stuff – (I probably put too much in because I always wanted them to have good value) ‘Maxwell House’ coffee, and Nestle Hot chocolate and instant ‘quick’ for the kids. I saved the free trinkets and trade cards that always came with them.
My grandmother would make sandwiches and sometimes sweet cakes. I had a high stool of my own on the other side. And if my grandfather was doing the talking and visiting with locals, I would always pull up a wooden pop crate and sit there very quietly and listen. That way I got to learn a lot about the town and the people … even if I didn’t understand it made me feel very important to be included and not sent away. Originally there were about 6 high stools around a high counter on the right as you came in the store. It was soda fountain type just like other places had in the 50’s. But the stools were high … were made from real leather and they had backs on them that you could lean back when you sat and they swiveled. I wasn’t the only kid who liked to sit in the chairs and turn them round and round till we were silly giggling and dizzy. I still remember the sound of kids laughing around that magic part of the store. A little over to the side were the old bubble gum machines with gum in little plastic shells with prizes inside. Just the right height for kids to put their noses to and stare inside the glass. Across from the soda counter to the back of the seats were the coca cola pop coolers. The first ones were the kind you opened from the top … a dual folding affair and if you were 5 or 6 you could just stand on your tippy toes and look inside of the cooler. I loved fishing out the small bottles of coke. Mini half sizes. Or the orange crush, flavoured with real oranges in those days.
When there were fairs or events my grandfather used to supply long rectangular metal containers with cola and root beer advertisements on them or round half tubs. You’d fill them with ice and they would last most of the day. My grandfather was always giving me small jobs to do and one of mine was to empty the water out if too much ice had melted. Funny, the things that we remember. The events were usually down at town hall park – most often some of the refreshments were paid for by, the lions club or the council etc. and kids were given tickets to use so that they could have a pop, chips, and a hot dog no one would be left out because they didn’t have money. That was in the 50s, events like May Day or Sports Day, Town Picnics and other special times. Kids really looked forward to that – I know I did.
By the late 50s early 60s the stools dwindled down to just 2 and the counter grew smaller. It always made me a little sad to see what I considered the kid and recreation area getting cut down to a smaller size. The sodas, milkshakes stayed awhile longer, the sandwiches disappeared when my grandmother’s enthusiasm waned, and sweet cakes became ‘twinkies’ sold as pairs in little plastic packages. Less stools meant less locals have chit chats and sorting life out at the soda bar. Personally I thought that was part of the job of being a store … being a local gathering place. It made no sense to me to make it smaller but that was in the 60s and times were changing.
In the early 1960’s there was a small café on the corner of Lougheed Highway and Harris Road, and younger kids started going there after school and hanging around, sharing French fries and pop. Later a bowling alley opened up near the town hall and I learned how to set pins so I could get free time on the pool tables and bowling lanes. That became a ‘teen’ hangout in the evening since the closest A&W was in Haney and you had to have a car to get there much later again the building was sold and made into a soap factory. Another one of those things that never made sense to a kid.
I liked Sundays, my grandfather always had the store open … so as soon as I was old enough about 9 I would hold the fort while others were at church. And I had my regulars … the ones that instead of going to the church would come and drink coffee and tea instead. There were some comers and goers and a few constants. Some snuck away from their wives instead of going to church. I remember there were 2 or 3 older men … they showed up most Sundays. They were a little bit like hermits and refused to go to church … they’d snort and say ‘no way’ … ‘let them pretend – do-gooders and high falooters go’ … I thought they were funny and kinda and sweet in their own way. They would tell me stories about the ‘good old days’ … they would get a real ‘story gab’ going on some days. I remember one of the older men used to live in a very tiny one-room house down Harris Road past Ford Road ways. He would repair the bikes in town and do other small tool repairs. I don’t know how old he really was cause when you’re ten everyone looks really, really old and you can’t ever imagine that you will get old like that, but I thought they were kind and a bit funny, so I looked forward to listening on Sundays. And I think they liked it that I gave them bottomless tea and I sometimes snuck them some cookies to go with it from the house. We were kind of like a little mini club of our own till the folks got out of church, they always left before the churchy crowd came to do their Sunday shopping.
Those few stools heard more stories over the years than one could ever imagine. All around the store but especially that corner. There were neon lights because companies would give them to my grandfather for advertising. I loved the colours they made a magic hue of the rainbow. We had them everywhere in the window on the walls. At night when the main lights were turned off I would go and sit and the stools and swivel around … seeing everything in neon light colours. It was great. Sometimes I would go in there at night and I would read comics till under the light of an old neon clock and run and hide if someone pulled up to see if the store was open. It was my special time. Where my mind could run wild in the imaginary world of comic books under the dreamy hue of rainbow lights. What kid couldn’t love that?
My grandfather was a very hard-working man. He would open the store in the morning at 8 am and we would close at 9 pm at night. I was always game for working in the store and manning the till. And I would always get to read comics if it got quiet … so sometimes I would be in there in the evening between customers. I could do small bills and sales. If it was too complicated or they wanted my grandfather I would pull on a string that went through a bunch of complex pulleys and such and it would ring in the house out back behind the store room and one of my grandparents would come out and take over. Eventually, by 10, I had 2-hour shifts of my own in the store. I loved working in there. I loved the different characters who would come through and how people could be so different and often they did not realize it. I got to see them all as they came through the store, a very interesting way to learn about people. Well clearly we are influenced by our memories … and memories tend to be more selective than we like.
Thank you, Colleen Graham, for your memories!
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