Dateline Dayton — A couple weeks ago I ended my essay with a comment about the “good old days,” which got me to thinking about what I enjoyed in my youth, such as the neighborhood grocery.
Within a pleasant walking distance of our home we had at least seven groceries and one supermarket. Each one was special with its own uniqueness, as well as the stamp of the owner. I can’t remember all the names. But there were Gus Rihm’s, Willard Huseman’s, Guy Mayno’s, Joe Hentrichs, Cron’s, Benkert’s, and the supermarket was the A & P.
Rihm’s Meats, the closest to our home, was founded in 1888. A. G. (Gus) Rihm, the proprietor, lived next door to the grocery. When I was a lad, I worked for Gus until I turned 16. Then I went to work at a shoe store in downtown Piqua.
I can’t remember when I started at the grocery; however, I worked there for a few years. Each day after school and on Saturdays, I would head to the store to deliver groceries, via my bicycle, my main responsibility. I also I did other odd jobs, cleaning the store and the meat block, doing window displays and stocking shelves. I did some selling when Gus would go next door to his house, (there was no bathroom or running water in the storeroom and heat was provided by a potbelly stove) but he always handled the customers. During the summer I would cut grass and then go to the store from 3 o’clock until 6, and all day on Saturday.
Who Knew Then?
This was my first encounter with a cash register, which I was not allowed to operate. That probably is why I’m collecting them today. Gus used a model 317 brass cash register. Lighting was poor in the store. Gus would strike a match to do the readings at the end of the day. I remember the many match marks on the dust cover.
Rihm’s, as with most small groceries of their day, was known for meats. By the time I started working at the store, the meat business was mostly cold cuts, bologna, ham and cheese. His specialties during my time were penny candies and selling bread, cold meat and cheese, all by the slice, to high school students at lunch time. Two high schools were located close to the store, Piqua Catholic and Piqua Central, and it was a gathering place at lunch time.
I believe I was his last regular delivery boy. Shortly after I left, the store closed. The building was converted into a donut shop, which really attracted the students, morning, noon and after school. After the donut shop closed, the building was razed.
The Scenes Are Vivid
On Broadway two groceries were in the same block. Since my grandparents (mom’s parents) lived on Broadway and my sister and I spent a great deal of time at their house, we frequented both. One, George Zink’s, was in a room attached to the family home. I can’t remember much except it was on an alley. On the other side of the alley was Mary Wimmers’ home, a rundown place on a very large overgrown lot.
Huseman’s Market was just up the street. We would go there for ice cream. Once in a while, Grandma would send me for something she needed. If memory serves, Mr. Huseman was a tall, slender man with sandy-colored curly hair.
Three blocks from our home and two from my grandparents, was one of three groceries I can recall on Park Avenue. Guy Mayno and his wife operated a grocery (not sure of its exact name) out of a room connected to their home. Homes were actually built with the storeroom attached. Our family did some of its shopping at this store. We could charge our purchases, not a uncommon practice. No, we didn’t have any type of card; Guy just kept a record of your purchases in his book. Even as a child, I was able to charge items that Mom sent me to get, but no treats.
After Mayno’s closed their store, the room became an insurance agency and later was converted into additional living space for the home.
Memories Are Flowing
Another market on Park Avenue, across from the hospital, was owned by T.P. Thompson. I visited this store with its three lengthy aisles numerous times. The owner was an always-smiling, slightly built middle-aged man. He parted his thin brown hair in the middle and wore rimless glasses. After it closed, the storeroom became additional living quarters for the home.
The third and farthest west Park Avenue store was Joe Hentrich’s. Its claim to fame was being open evenings and Sunday. Few establishments of any nature were open on Sunday, which was supposed to be as it was reserved for church, family and, yes, golf. We would go there on Sunday evening, mostly for cold meat, or something we desperately needed because prices were high. But it was about the only place you could shop nights and Sundays.
There’s a good possibility that one or two more groceries existed on that stretch of Park, but any memory eludes me today.
Cron’s Nicklin Avenue Market was the most distant from our home, and one of two markets on the street. I can only remember being in that store a few times. Once I was there to get something for my mother-in-law who lived only a few blocks away. This store is still in operation.
The other Nicklin store was right across from Wilder grade school. Possibly I was in this store once for a soft drink. But I don’t remember anything about it.
Two blocks west of our home on North Street was Carl Benkert’s Grocery, operated by Carl and his son. They had a strong business in their day. They made deliveries by car. One of my high school buddies delivered for the Benkerts, after he got his driver’s license.
Carl’s son tried to keep the business going after his dad retired. But when Kroger’s opened a big new supermarket a couple blocks away, he couldn’t compete. With more homes having access to a car, they didn’t need the convenience of delivery and by then, it was all about price.
After Benkerts closed,the store became a beauty shop.
On High Street, four blocks from our home, there was another market. I was in the store a few times, but I can’t remember its name or anything about the owner. It was run by a nice man and his wife, who lived above the store.
After this market closed it became a children’s shoe store and then was razed to allow for an addition to the funeral home, which was located next door.
Wouldn’t it be great if the children of today could enjoy the experience and the excitement of going to the grocery and knowing the owner by name?
By the way, there were no carts with videos — for that matter there were no carts. You never would have been able to get one down the small aisle. Some of the markets did have a rack of metal baskets, which really did obligate you to do the heavy lifting.
Mr. Hennessey may be contacted at pmhenn@sbcglobal.net
