ARDMORE,OKLAHOMA - 1930s GROCERY STORES

Small one-room grocery stores existed over most of early Ardmore. Within 3 to 4 minutes walk from where I lived and now live were Holmes, Bulard, Martin and Besaw early 1930s, most probably dating a generation back, most gone by end of that decade.

Several changes account for it. Old owners go to their rewards, competion by larger retailers and probably more so the changes in food handling, packaging and variety. Holmes store at A st. & 11th ave. NW was pretty typical of them. It was smaller than our double garage, nothing 20th century, no electricity, no phone, refrigeration, etc. He had an ice box with 'sody pop' and very little in stock, nothing perishable, only packaged items, some canned goods and penny candy. He also had a barrel of kerosene, then called 'coal oil'. My grandmother had a gallon can with a fine little spout on it she kept plugged by sticking a potato over it - sent me with a nickel to get it filled now and then. I imagine most business of these little stores was in items of immediate need when the housewife ran out of something - or of people living hand to mouth in the depression with only enough money to buy the basics in the smallest quantites.

Households bought food more in bulk quantities than today, big sack of flour, 50 pounds of potatoes, etc. There were few prepared products but there were corn flakes, shredded wheat, Post toasties and grape nuts. Today there are scores of breakfast foods. Milk then was delivered for eleven cents a quart which was so expensive my Dad bought a cow. My task was to lead her down to the vacant block across from Holmes store and stake her out for the day to graze. After a few months the cow went dry and he traded her to the dairyman for milk to be delivered. Pasteurization of milk was only from Colvert's or Tom Cooper's. My aunt almost died of typhoid which converted us all to Colvert's. Sliced bread arrived early '30s. Before that you had to slice your own. There was a John Small's bakery on Washington, North of Broadway. They sold day-old bread for a nickel - half the price of fresh bread at Safeway.

Food was precious. I recall when the government shot hundreds of cattle to keep the price of beef up, my Dad brought home a lot of fresh beef that my Mother and Grandmother canned and we ate for months. Many people had a garden out back where they raised seasonable veggies and often a chicken yard where they produced eggs and Sunday dinner now and then. Keeping live stock in Ardmore was quite common, cows, horses, goats and chickens.

Safeway opened Ardmore's first 'Supermarket' on SE corner of Broadway and D NW mid 30's. The term supermarket didn't exist then - at least in Ardmore. They had boys who carried your groceries out to your car. I recall my Mother's pained comment that these two bags (as big as paper bags got) cost SIX DOLARS. That was for a week, four adults and us two kids. It was supplemented somewhat by my grandfather stopping now and then for perishables at Newman-Boucher's, a big grocery store, 3rd ave and Caddo .

Safeway had huge shrimp packed in barrels of chipped ice. Lake Murray got going mid-30s. We bought shrimp for fish bait. I can remember people exclaiming as they baited their trotlines "can you imagine - some people EAT these things?"

That's how my disconnected memory recalls it. Memory lane isn't an improved road - especially mine.

Thank you for that rhmc24! I may be in the minority, but I love to hear history from those who lived it! My mom was a teenager during the depression, but she never spoke of it to me and she's gone many years now.

While this is about three months too early, the Oklahoma connection and sentiment to the Ardmore story led me to post this. I share it every Christmas with my family as a reminder of how blessed we are, how fortunate we are to have what we have, and why we celebrate Christmas.

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Love outlasts poverty for newlyweds during Christmas 1934

J.J. PURSLEY

Lawton Constitution Editor’s Note: For many Oklahomans, Christmas in 1934 is more likely to be remembered as a hard one due to the Depression and the Dust Bowl. But Lawton resident the late J.J. Pursley, writing in the mid-1980s, remembered that holiday, not because of what he and his new bride Wilma didn’t have but what they had — a special kind of love.

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Two people in love, barely 18 years old, not even dry behind the ears, married April 21, 1934. It was a year of the Great Depression, people living in poverty, dust bowl days, so bad you had to wet a rag to put over your face so you could breathe. The days would turn dark as night. People by the millions were out of work — wages were 50 cents to $1 a day — some more and some less. By the thousands, people were leaving Oklahoma for California and any place where they could find work.

Since April, I had had only odd jobs; barely enough to buy food, coal and kerosene. Pretty Boy Floyd, Bonnie and Clyde and soup lines were in the news. There were people living on the banks of Cache Creek with few belongings, not enough food or clothing. In my mind, it will always be a pitiful sight.

Wilma and I awoke that day facing a bleak Christmas Eve — no job, no food or heat. The water faucet was outside and it had frozen. We could see out the window and it was drizzling rain and spitting snow. Our little house had 1x12 sidewalls, wooden floors and inside was bare wood, no insulation and no sheet rock. We could hear the wind whistling through the cracks and water dripping in pans we had put on the floor.

Our only belongings were a three-quarter bed, a tinbelly wood stove, a small sofa and a two-burner kerosene cook stove. On the walls, I had nailed wooden orange crates for her to use as cabinets. I turned two orange crates upright, with a board across, so she could set her stove on it. She had made little curtains to hang from the front. We did not have much, but there were others who had less.

I had not enjoyed a real gift Christmas like some others. Our childhood Christmas was always going to the church to receive a sack of candy and nuts. I’m not complaining — there were seven boys and two girls in our family and it took all the money Dad made to feed and clothe us and pay the bills. I would not trade my childhood days at home for all the gifts in the world. It was a family of love, and as little as we had, we cared and shared with one another.

Lying there in bed, I looked at Wilma and something burned inside me to make this Christmas one that she would remember for a lifetime. As bad as it was out, I asked her if she would help me gather pecans so that we might exchange gifts. With a big smile, she said, “Yes.” Neither of us had warm clothes, so we got up and put on all that we had. My shoes were worn out on the bottom, so I cut cardboard and put it inside them so my feet wouldn’t touch the ground. We had some gunnysacks and I wrapped them around our feet for warmth. We left our little house holding hands and started toward Squaw Creek.

I knew she was hungry, so the first pecans we picked up, we cracked them and had some to eat, so we could make it through the day. Most of the pecans had been gathered already. We walked five miles, climbing up and down trees, finding them wherever we could. She had worked so hard bending over all day and I knew she was tired. It was near 4 p.m. and I said, “Let’s go back to town and sell what we have.”

We had to walk fast, and, I must say, the sack seemed like it weighed a hundred pounds. Our feet were cold and we were shivering. We barely made it to Fuller Creamery on South 3rd Street. He was going to close early because of Christmas Eve. I said, “Mr. Fuller, we have been out all day picking up pecans so we could have money to buy each other gifts.” He smiled and said, “Put them on the scales.” There were all sizes and some had worm holes in them. After some time, he said, “You have a dollar’s worth.”

By this time it was 6 p.m. We hurried to S. H. Kress Co. at 328 C Avenue. She had 50 cents and I had the same. In the store we went different directions, buying something for each other. I did not know what she had bought for me, but this is what I bought for her. She had wanted a real coffee pot, so I found a four-cup percolator with a little glass on top so you could see when it started to perk. Our old coffee pot was a can we used to boil water in and then we added the coffee grounds. I paid 15 cents for it. Wilma had only one slip — by day she wore it with a dress and at night she wore it as a gown. I found a pretty pink flannel gown for 20 cents. Then I bought some gloves to cover her sweet little hands when she was cold. We met sometime later at the front door.

I asked her if she had spent all of her money and she said she hadn’t. She had 15 cents left and I had a nickel, so between us we had 20 cents. I took her down to Sid’s Hamburger Stand at 308 C Avenue, and we had two hamburgers, five cents each, and two Cokes.

We started walking home toward our little slat house. I knew we had no wood, so on the way I picked up some orange crates at the Nash-Finch Co. at 3rd and F Avenue, and carried them home. We lit the kerosene lamp and built a fire out of the pine wood from the crates. The fire got so hot that the stove pipe from the heater to the ceiling was red-hot. At least we were finally getting warm for the first time that day. We sat down near the stove and sang Christmas songs.

I could hardly wait for her to see what I bought for her. We would take turns pulling the presents out of each sack — no Christmas wrappings on anything. I think she squealed the loudest when she saw the coffee pot. I received from her a pair of socks, a scarf and a pair of gloves. I don’t think she will ever be as beautiful as she was that night in her new gown — there was glow and radiance of love that I had not felt, but it will last a lifetime in my heart.

The lamp had burned itself out and the fire had died down, so we went to bed with such a joyous feeling. As she lay in my arms, we pondered the greatest gift of all. It was not what we had given each other, but rather what God had given us, a baby in a manger — our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

A very enjoyable post to read,I'm sure living it was much different!
I have never been to Ardmore but I had a friend from there who died in 2009;Mr. Allen Graffham.I spent many years looking through his catalogs and trading with him finally meeting him in the 80's in Texas.
Post's such as yours are a very good read especially when compared to the way things are now!

Thanks to all of you for the stories this morning, I truly enjoyed them!!