Shoe Column: neighborhood groceries are a thing of the past

By Tim “Shoe” Sullivan

While driving around Stevens Point, you might notice small empty spaces between houses. You also might see tiny parking lots.

More often than not, those used to be neighborhood grocery stores.

Look for them no more, for neighborhood grocery stores are nothing more than dreams remembered. (I borrowed that from the opening of “Gone With The Wind”).

Back in the day, those little grocery stores were everywhere in Stevens Point, Wisconsin. Many sprung up in the late 1940’s after the Great War. Still others came along in the ’50s and ’60s. Almost every block or two seemed to have one. Mom and Pop places. The owners knew you by name. They let you charge stuff and pay later. Neighborhood grocery stores belonged in a Norman Rockwell painting. They were a slice of Americana.

And now they’re all gone.

I guess it was called progress. In came the big supermarkets and out went the grocery stores. Economics and wholesalers spelled their demise. It always comes down to money. The average person on the corner would think, “Why should I pay 15 cents for a can of soup here when I can get the same can of soup for a dime there?”

One of my favorite neighborhood grocery stores was Knudsen’s on Strongs Avenue. As a kid, I usually went in there to buy a pack of baseball cards. And they also had that addictive gumball machine. This was the deal: You put a penny into the machine and a gumball dropped out. If you were super lucky, you might get a yellow gumball that had a red stripe. That might be the highlight of your week. If you turned the lucky gumball in to the lady behind the counter, she gave you a nickel. Five cents went a long way back then. It would get you another wax-pack of baseball cards.

One day I got a yellow gumball. No big deal. Then I went home, brought out my sister’s makeup kit, and carefully painted a red stripe around the gumball. After letting it dry overnight, I timidly walked into Knudsen’s and placed the gumball in front of the lady. She took one look at it and laughed like crazy. She knew what I did. She also gave me the nickel.

I used it to buy another pack of baseball cards. In that pack were some cards and a stick of gum. I ate the gum and sorted the cards. One of them was a Mickey Mantle. Bottom line: my original penny morphed into a nickel and then turned into a baseball card that goes for a couple hundred bucks today.

Man, I miss Knudsen’s just as much as others miss Fuzzy Jurgella’s on the square which turned into Buffy’s Lampoon. Then there was Gross Grocery on College Avenue. Ebben Gross hopped into his white ‘61 caddy and delivered your groceries right to your house. He also let you charge the groceries to your “house account”. Before Gross Grocery, I think it was Jonas Grocery, and after Gross Grocery, it later became Monears.

Cigel’s Grocery was on Water Street right across from my house. Harris Cigel was a cool guy. He liked to drive around in his blue van which was always full with paper products for taverns and root beer stands. Painted on the side of the van was, “Ricky likes popcorn and Randy likes root beer”. They were his sons. The Cigel van was like a mobile billboard. And the popcorn was freshly popped.

Ray & Gen’s on Ellis apparently used to be Len’s and Oscar Wirth’s and Ted’s. Neighborhood kids loved to buy their red licorice, jawbreakers, bubble gum, Spree, Sweet Tarts, and Charm suckers. Ray & Gen’s had a penny candy counter (two for a penny), and folks loved their fresh donuts they got from the Point Bakery. Which reminds me. The Point Bakery aint around no more either.

Then there was the Northside Grocery on Forrest Street a few blocks from Bukolt Park. It was really tiny and had delicious bakery. My notes say that John Laszewski owned it, Mrs. Pavolski ran it, and Helen and Marie took your order. They later ran the Square Bar which no longer exists.

The National T was downtown on Main Street across from the A&P. The A&P was where Associated Bank is now. It had the steady aroma of freshly ground coffee and wooden floors. A tv dinner at the A&P went for 59 cents, and they always put their watermelons outside in the summer. I even helped myself to one or two at night when they weren’t looking.

There were two Weltman’s in Point. One was at the corner of Water Street and Shaurette. That’s where Harvey Giese’s uncle bought his quarts of Point Beer and cheese. My buddy Mike “George” Glodosky said he went to Weltman’s all the time as a kid. He needed a note from his folks to buy a bag of peas because they were worried about peashooters. The other Weltman’s was right next to Joe’s Bar on the square.

Sherman Rudnick of course remembers Rudnick’s Grocery on the square because he worked there. It is now Graffiti’s Sports Pub. Sherman, a totally delightful guy, also recalls Hebal’s Grocery, Bartig’s, and Pickert’s. Hebal’s was across from Podach’s Meat Market on McCullough.

Where the hell did everything go? Morton’s Grocery was on Patch Street. Janice Kiefer Sparhawk used to get the Sunday paper there and thinks it was originally Billerbacks. Bergie’s Market was on Jefferson, and so was Grubba’s Grocery. Hopp’s Grocery was on the corner of Fremont and Dixon. It was Knapp’s before it was Hopp’s, and it later became a laundramat. Stanislawski’s was located on the corner of Bukolt Avenue and Second Street, and Porter’s was kiddie corner from PJ Jacob’s High School. Porter’s was west of Check’s Mufflers. It later became Galaxy Hobbies. Chartier’s was east of Check’s.

The west side had Westgate which earlier was West Side Market. The Triangle Store delivered and could be found on the corner of Spruce and Division. And then there was Nowak’s Bar & Grocery Store where you could buy a gallon bottle of tap beer. Nowak’s became Partner’s Pub on Stanley Street. Partner’s was owned by Jeff Moffet and Mike Derer, two former bartenders from Joe’s. “Moff” and “Pearly” also once owned College Avenue Grocery. Clark Pinzer, Dennis Flanigan, Gary Curless, and I bowled for them one year.

We also can’t forget Thrifty or the Dixon Street Grocery. Not to mention Mozuch’s Store on Fourth Avenue and Union. And what about Bob’s Food King downtown? One day I was in BFK when I spotted baseball card guru Larry Fritsch pushing a cart down the donut aisle. He stopped by the Twinkies and bought every one that they had. Turned out some baseball cards came with the Twinkies. Larry was a very smart guy.

There were small grocery stores everywhere you looked. Consumer’s Grocery was a green store on Fourth Avenue between Frederick Street and West Street. Kalp’s was on the end of Maria Drive and Second Street. Ameigh’s was on Ellis, and the Black & White was across from St. Peter’s Church. That’s where the Co-Op is now. Smit’s Grocery was tucked away two blocks west of St. Pete’s school, and they sold nickel candy. Sara Stevenson’s grandpa Leonard Osowski had Len’s on Ellis, and Bruno’s was next to the old McKinley School on Church Street.

Lila’s and Gene’s IGA (my cousin Gene and Kay Worzalla) were the places to go to in Plover. One of the last grocery stores standing was the Northside Grocery on Forrest Street. It was also the smallest. Another one that lasted a long time was Feltz’s Grocery on the corner of Hwy 54 and J. That’s not be be confused with Feltz’s by St. Stan’s in the 60’s which Barb Alfuth Bentzen swears existed.

Old timers in Point know how special those friendly places used to be. You could stand outside with your neighbors and discuss the events of the day. You could buy your soupbone, cheese, crackers, noodles, and you name it. You didn’t have to pay right away, and some of the grocery stores delivered. The owners and staff knew you by name. A neighborhood grocery store was such a treasure.

And then you woke up one morning, and—poof—they were all gone. Just like that.

All in the name of progress. Progress and empty spaces and tiny parking lots growing weeds.