Circa late 1940's/early 1950's
In our community of Barnett Crossroads in Escambia County Alabama lived family's headed by hard working men, men who worked in paper wood, tar wood stumping and logging. Men who worked for the county road department, linemen for Southern Pine, merchants, several worked for the U.S. Government, preachers, a few school teachers and a Principal, many were farmers.
My daddy, due to many young'uns with hungry mouths open, worked for the county road department AND farmed to insure we had plenty to eat. Few were idle. Lay-about's were fodder for gossip and judgement. We were mostly poor, but proud. Even in this community there was an understood and accepted hierarchy. Some were nobody, all were somebody.
Our mail carrier, Mr. Ollie Jorden delivered our letters, packages of clothes and shoes in late summer/early fall from Spiegel & Sears Roebuck. Fruit and nut trees, Christmas presents, baby chicks in Spring.
For convenience there were times that Mr. Jorden would agree to drop off a sack of potatoes to a neighbor up the road, some widow lady or old couple. This was done from the goodness of his heart and free gratis. I was told that one tight fisted old lady ask him to, "Just hand this off because they need to know I'm coming tomorrow", to a relative up the route. He knew the gig, but agreed to deliver the note, written on a scrap of BlueHorse and folded using the tuck in method for privacy. She saved that copper. Mr. Jorden was faithful in his duty, usually on time unless a big rain had washed the roads. Mr. Jorden got to enjoy handing our packages out the window and seeing the bliss of anticipation on our faces.
Our merchants were in competition for our money and made an effort to provide goods to help us enjoy a better life. Our teachers and Principal pushed and pulled us into enlightenment. Our preachers brought to us the promise of eternal salvation if only we accepted the offer and repented. Our linemen kept us connected to our stoves, "friggyrators" and lights with current.
Men working in the woods probably did the most dangerous work. Cutting trees, using dynamite blasting and heat related problems. The farmers had the most unreliable jobs due to weather affecting the outcome of crops. All hoped for a good year to keep the lien from the bank at bay. Good years paid off the loan which helped to get a loan to plant another crop next year. I believe my Daddy swam upstream against the wash most years. Thank goodness for dump trucks, road graders and asphalt plant work, we made it through.
A very special merchant, Red Henderson owned and operated a rolling store. Red lived in Atmore and ran his daily routes to communities all over Escambia County Alabama. The rolling store came to Barnett Crossroads on Thursday.
First thought in my mind at daybreak on Thursday was the problem of owning a nickel. Mama and Daddy mostly shopped for our groceries at Gilmores store in Wallace, but sometimes it was necessary for Mama to buy something from Red Henderson and his rolling store.
If Mama didn't need anything on "rolling store day", then we just ran down a trail beside the "Sand Field" fence to our neighbor's house. Mr. John worked off at the Alabama River snaking deadheads and their only vehicle was over there with him for the week. Mrs. Lola had to adjust her grocery needs to accommodate the way things worked for her. Red Henderson's rolling store filled the gap.
I'll set a mental visual here: Red Henderson's rolling store was built out to carry things needed by country folk. It looked like a big old U-Haul truck with a cab over for storage. Painted brown, outfitted with a very capable set of dual air horns, way out there side mirror's, side door with step up. On the back, with a door to inside, was built a porch like contraption to haul a drum of kerosene, wall hangers for brooms, mops, rakes, and hoes.
A wire cage to hold chickens to be sold or accepted for barter. Along the floor sat gallon buckets of syrup, cardboard boxes of eggs, Red Henderson would accept most anything for barter if he saw a need to turn a profit on up the road. Good for us, good for Red Henderson. If we were a nickel short, then just run to the hen house and flitch an egg. Done deal, right? Other things as pots, pans, kettles, water buckets, dippers, wash tubs and coffee pots dangled and clanked. Everything back there was covered in fine red dust from curl back off dirt roads.
Inside the rolling store, walls were lined with shelves with railings to hold things secure from rattling about and falling off. A lead lined Coca Cola icebox was filled with chunks of ice melting into COLD water for all manner of soda in bottles. A Borden ice cream box filled with cups of delicious, milk, butter and cream along with small amounts of meats. The shelves were filled with loaves of Sunbeam bread, Roberts tomatoes, DelMonte cling peaches, Skippy peanut butter, Welch's grape jelly, Alaga & Kero syrups, cartons of Armour Star pure lard, Martha White flour and cornmeal. Mothers Oats, tins of Maine sardines and cans of Spam. Spam kept the people in London from starving during the war and we would buy a can ever so often to honor that. Even today I eat a sandwich of fried Spam because of that very reason. So many things on those shelves to offer, the best of the best was the section holding all the goodies to attract and torture us kids. Cookies, candy, bubble gum, Cracker Jacks, on and on and on.
Red Henderson, knowing all the folks up and down his route needed to be warned of his coming would start blowing those old dual air horns as far down as Stanley Crossroads, a distance of about three miles. Most everybody knew the approximate expected time of arrival, but sometimes a shopper would hold up the rolling store just to barter and spend time looking around inside to see what Red had to offer that week. If a kid had a coin, then down time for the store would cause anxiety on up the line. Time waiting for Red Henderson's rolling store was a bad place to spend it.
We were usually out in the fields on assignment for grass or weed removal, but spent many wonderful hours lolling about under the shade of a tree letting the grass grow. Busy time was just before Daddy pulled into the lane in a county dump truck.
If I had a nickel to spend or Mama allowed an egg for barter, I was in like Flynn. Waiting for the rolling store made my teeth edgy.
Air horn......Whomp, Whomp..........................................WHOMP!!!!!!!!!!!
Startled! Heart stopping, sucking air, vision blurring, struck by Saint Vitus like dancing. I moved as possessed from wherever I happened to be when the horn sounded to our lane out front. Honestly no memory of the route I took, just there. Don't remember how my nickel got into my hand, just there in sweat and grime.
Waiting................waiting............................waiting...................Oh, my goodness, I see it turning out of Mrs. Hobbs road.
Mama in fresh apron over old work worn cotton dress with the baby on one hip, holding the toddler by a scrawny arm with the other hand. Waving us off. trying and failing to keep from being embarrassed by the frenzied behavior of her offspring. We free ranged and waited, and waited and waited. Mama asking Red Henderson if perhaps he carried some pickling spice today. "Why yes I do Mrs. Smith".
Mama checked the box of pickling spices to make sure they weren't webby. This was never done in Red Henderson's presence--disrespectful you know.
"You know it happens sometimes and that is a waste of good money".
Now! I was the only one in the world at this moment. Having waited until Mama was done shopping we got to clamor up into the rolling store to shop and make our choices. Red Henderson lifted the littlest Smith's up to see what was there. He was guaranteed to make a profit off us. Mama had already purchased a ten cent cellophane wrapped package of peppermint sticks. Baby and toddler were sucking on one already, drooling sweet, sticky spittle on Mama and smearing it into their own hair. Gonna hurt to comb that out. Mama rushed us and failed.
I wanted to buy a box of Cracker Jacks as they held a tiny plastic toy. "Twofer"! I really, really wanted to buy a PayDay, but usually settled on a big old cookie called a Stage Plank. Gingerbread with hardened pink icing. Not because I liked gingerbread, I didn't, but because it was the biggest thing I could find for a nickel.
Buddy and I had a standing agreement that we would share, he bought a cold drink--biggest was RC. I bought the biggest goodie and we would share. Lots of back and forth negotiation as to how our treats should be shared. It wasn't fair or easy. Both of us were selfish and greedy.
TIME HOP!
Years passed, we grew up and away, Red Henderson lost his rolling store business to convenience of better transportation for country folks. Time changes everything, some for better, some for not so. My memories will never change the way I felt about my experiences with RED HENDERSON'S ROLLING STORE. The joy of that rolling store is still with me today. Sad for those who missed it.
