Spencer IGA...

  As I've aged I've begun to realize all of the things that my small hometown had to offer and the things that future generations may not have.  My Grandmother shared with me the other day that the local grocery store, the Spencer SuperValu (what was the Spencer IGA when I was a kid) was closing.  Apparently there was not enough business to maintain a strong enough profit to remain open.  I don't know why but this makes me extremely sad.  I think that it largely has to do with the idea that the longer I am away (it has been 10 years since I have lived in my hometown) and the older that I get the more things change.

  I remember going to the grocery store as a kid with my parents.  Wandering up and down the isles talking to everyone who would listen to me (mind you, I grew up in a very small town) and my parent's having no fear that I would go missing or be snatched up and be part of some terrible CNN headline.  I remember gravitating towards the movie rental counter (this was way before iTunes & Netflix) and begging my parents to rent (for probably the 100th time) The Last Unicorn.

  When I became old enough to go into town by myself (to ride my bike the 2 miles from my house to town) I would continue to gravitate towards the grocery store.  These trips were relegated to again, perusing the movie rentals and purchasing candy with whatever allowance money I had left.  My local grocery store was small, too small to continue to handle the growth of my hometown so they decided to build a new, much larger building out towards the end of town.  You see, my hometown grew during my teen years, no much, but enough to warrant this move. 

  So what was born was the new Spencer SuperValu.  This grocery store was not as cozy and family like as the old store but still had that small town feel.  You still knew everyone that was working there and they knew you (sometimes more that you wanted them to know).  As I grew and got to the age where landing a job was going to be a necessity (aka 16) many of my friends began part time jobs at the local grocery store.  These jobs included bagging groceries, stocking shelves, ringing customers and working in the bakery.

  Soon I had graduated from high school and was moving away from my hometown.  My grocery store remained a fixture for my family and my hometown each and everytime I came home from school.  Often I would receive a list of items that my Grandmother needed and off to the IGA (it would/will always be the IGA for me) I would go.  It would be a chance to see community staples and be able to share how wonderful college life was (even if I was a little homesick at times) and hear about what had happened while I was away.  But the visits to home soon became fewer and fewer as I moved further and further away.  It was always part of my ritual when I went home to drive around town and see if anything had changed while I was away.  In my mind's eye it always remained the same but apparently it had not.

  The school had gained new practice space for the football team (which had combined with the local Catholic school) and had finally put a permanent fence around the baseball field (no more snow fence marking the outfield line).  The local hamburger shack had closed (that's another entire entry) and the second gas station (I never understood the need for two in a town of 1,200 residents) had also closed but the grocery store remained.  There it was unwavering, still full to the brim with everything you would need (no trip to Marshfield necessary) for the residents of Spencer to use.

  But I guess the saying "change is inevitable" is true (whether we want to believe it or not).  This year saw a pivotal vote to keep the school open (another interesting blog post) and not consolidate with another school district and the closing of the grocery store.  As I sit here writing I wonder what my hometown will look like the next time I go home to visit my parents.  Will the buildings and places that were so important to me as a child and helped shape my visions of community still be there?  Or, will the slow, unending march of time eliminate more of small town America?