Reflections: Store fueled neighborhood

Ed Hungness

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Ed Hungness

April 17, 2011

By ED HUNGNESS Local columnist The Record Eagle Wed Apr 18, 2012, 02:26 PM EDT

We lived a half-block from the big red-brick school building. Our elementary school didn't have a lunch program. Students walked to school, scurried home for lunch, then returned for the afternoon session.

One day, as I entered the kitchen, Mom handed me a dime and said, "We're all out of bread. Quick, run up to Bronson's and buy a loaf of Wonder Bread. Then hurry right back!" Yes, a loaf of bread was 10 cents.

Bronson's was a block from our home, right up the cinder alley that ran behind our house. It was a neighborhood "ma and pa" store operated, of course, by the Bronsons. There weren't any other employees, just Mr. and Mrs. Bronson. It was a popular place with kids and also with moms who forgot to buy bread.

Every morning except Sunday, the Bronsons arrived early and opened their tiny store. The floors were wooden and creaked when customers walked down the narrow aisles.

In the back of the store was a small deli case behind which Mr. Bronson had a canvas army-surplus cot. During their long day, the two of them would take turns helping customers and manning the hand-cranked cash register while the other took a nap behind the meat case.

I found it frightening to look through the glass windows of the case where I saw Mr. Bronson lying on his cot behind the sticks of bologna and salami. Sometimes I thought he looked dead. Consequently, if I only saw one of them in the front of the store, I rarely ventured to the back.

For kids, the little store was a travel destination. We could ride our bikes there without crossing busy streets. The front of the store had a big overhanging roof that shaded the sidewalk and storefront windows. This was a perfect place to drink a cold bottle of pop on a hot day. With 10 cents in our pocket, we could have a field day at Bronson's. They had all the junk food the youth of that era dreamed of.

We especially favored the little paraffin bottles that resembled miniature pop bottles. First we bit the top off the wax bottle and then drank the colorful syrup that was contained within. Then we chewed the wax bottle in order to extract the last bit of flavor from the container.

Most of us were fairly intelligent and knew enough not to swallow the chewed, petroleum-based wax but instead spit it out onto the sidewalks. The summer sun melted the wax making dark, greasy spots on sidewalks going to and from the store in multiple directions.

Children wanting to visit the little store could never get lost. All they needed to do was to follow the trail of melted wax bottles and squished gobs of Double-Bubble.

Popsicles cost a nickel in the '50s. Remember how they had two sticks? If a couple of pals only had a nickel between them and could agree on one of the many flavors, they would take their selection to Mr. Bronson and ask him to split it.

After plunking their five pennies on the counter, Mr. Bronson stabbed his handy ice pick through the paper wrapper, separating the Popsicle into equal portions. Two satisfied Bronson customers dashed out the store's squeaking screen door to sit in the shade and enjoy their treat. My favorite was grape.

Other goodies included long strips of what appeared to be adding machine paper covered with rows of colored candy dots, jawbreakers, gumballs, Cracker Jack and black licorice whips.

We could buy a 10-cent Hi-Flyer Kite at Bronson's, a ball of string or a new Yo-Yo and were only limited by the number of coins in our pockets.

Times change and stores like Bronson's have faded from residential neighborhoods only to be replaced by big stores in busy shopping areas. The modern-day grocery has so much more to offer today's food shopper, but you won't find cheerful old Mr. and Mrs. Bronson there and you certainly won't find a 10-cent loaf of Wonder Bread.

Ed Hungness and his wife owned their cottage on Fife Lake for six years before moving there after his retirement in 2005. He can be reached at edhungness@yahoo.com.