Mac's Grocery Store

Our family’s house was one block off of the main street in Drummond. I call it “the main street” instead of Main Street because, like all the other streets in Drummond, I didn’t know the names of any of them. I still don’t. Directions were given as: “Go down past the Co-Op and turn right. Just past the post office, you’ll see an old Chevy up on blocks. The next house is where they are.” Everybody got around just fine without knowing where Kansas Street was. That’s a little glimpse into the small town life that I grew up in. It’s a life that seems a little odd if you’ve never lived in one. I sometimes hear stories of a celebrity or someone on a game show that has achieved so much coming from a small town. To listen to them speak, I thought they lived in a bustling metropolis. “Our tiny town of 24,000 people only had five fast food restaurants and three grocery stores.” When I was young, Drummond had no restaurants and one grocery store; MacWilliams' Grocery. Mac’s to the regulars. It was three aisles of food basics, a large freezer full of ice cream, and a full service butcher shop in the back. Run by an older couple, it had the outward appearance that LaDonna was in charge of the front and Mack was in charge of the back. Mac’s had a red and white checkerboard floor, old rusty metal shelves, and a low ceiling. Not much to look at really, but it was where I occasionally spent time. They had cold sodas, candy bars, and cheap white bread, meat and cheese sandwiches made fresh at the butcher’s counter. These things were the required fuel I needed to ride my red hot daredevil bike around town. I also went in whenever I heard someone was bringing a deer, hog or steer to be processed. If I stood on a chair in the little sitting area in the back, I could see them turn an entire steer into what you and I toss on the barbecue grill on the weekends. I was riveted by it. I didn’t really want to get that close to it, but it could easily hold my interest for nearly an hour. I don’t think if I lived in a city, I would have been able to see that as up close and personal as I did. It definitely made me think about the food I was cramming into my mouth everyday. Where did it come from? Had I seen this hamburger walking in the field west of my house yesterday? Chances are, I had and Mack had been there to masterfully cut it into dinner sized portions. As an adult, I was a vendor that called on large grocery store chains. I got to see the back rooms and meat cutting areas. The charm, if that’s what you call it, was not there. They would get in boxes of steaks that had labels on it telling the meat department that they were “electrocuted to simulate aging.”  They received four foot cubes filled with whole frozen chickens. They had dozens of people sleepily stuffing the shelves and deli counters. Every time I see these mega stores, it makes me long for a simpler time and a simpler place like MacWilliams’ Grocery. Sure the prices were a little higher than they should be and the selection wasn’t great, but it was Mac’s, my home town grocer. It had survived recessions, droughts, and a pickup crashing through the front window. Whenever I’m longing for the feel of a small town, at the center of my dream, is a tiny grocery store that looks just like Mac’s did when I was a kid. Rusty shelves and all.

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