Community Voices
Page 8
Looking Back
Musings from the Middle
Small Items, Big History
So Long, Farewell
by Marcia Napier Grain Valley Historical Society While looking through one of the collections housed at the Historical Society, I ran across a pamphlet titled “Information Directory of Grain Valley, Missouri”. Although it isn’t dated, it was probably published in late 1930’s. The directory was printed compliments of the advertisers which included Grain Valley Grain Company, the Bank of Grain Valley, A.M. White Ice Co., Storms Pharmacy, Kirby Orchards, E. C. Huff Auto Repair, White Grocery & Restaurant, Chas. O. Ryan A.G. Grocery, Sims Barber Shop, The Valley Store, Bill’s Market, Mrs. G. B. Webb and Sons Furniture and Undertaking, and the Oak Grove Banner. By my count, that’s four grocery stores. In this post-depression period, the good citizens of Grain Valley didn’t lack for food. Information in this small, 6 x 12 inch folded pamphlet included a time table for the bus going both east and west via Independence, a separate bus to Kansas City, as well as the east and west bound Baltimore & Ohio train times. At the date of publishing, Porter
Rumbo was mayor, E. A. Snodgrass was the City Clerk and other city officials included Bill Tucker, Walter Hoehn, and Floyd Sharp. There was also information for the motorist, which mainly included the distance to nearby towns and major cities in Missouri. The facts about Grain Valley were also a part of the pamphlet. This is merely one small item among the hundreds that can be found at the Historical Society Museum. It is our goal to continually add new “old stuff” to our collection. Come by and visit on Wednesdays between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. or make an appointment to visit at your convenience. If you have a particular interest, we can help with research about topics such as Pink Hill, Stony Point, and Grain Valley. We have photos, memorabilia, and some genealogy information in our collection. Visit our website, www.grainvalleyhistory.com, or follow us on Facebook (@grainvalleyhistory) for more information.
by Cathy Allie
Forgive me if I don't act immediately as though I really like you and want to be friends. It's just that I have...well, a secret that I need to tell you. Things I really like sometimes disappear, so I just don't want to get too connected for fear you will do a vanishing act as well. Now I am nostalgic to say the least, but I am not talking about older model cars no longer manufactured, or vanishing indoor malls, like my beloved Blue Ridge and Bannister, that died slow, sad deaths under painful urban consequences, but rather things that seemed a bit more solid. I first noticed the problem with favorite items on restaurant menus coming under the swipe of the magician's wand. You know how you look at two choices and just think, 'Well, if I could combine these two things and leave off this, it would be the perfect meal'? At Red Lobster there was a Chesapeake Bay Sampler, which was the perfect mix of seafood. Now it only shows up during special seasons, leaving me playing a guessing game as to when to venture in for a bite. Applebees’ Riblet and Chicken finger basket with just the right portion of each deserted me next, once again relegated to a platter size, special menu, or special ask. A carefully curated s'mores dessert at Houlihans had its flame doused. Some whole restaurants I actually loved fully vanished themselves. Old timers will remember Gold Buffet up north, where you could fill up either before or after bowling--yes, I know that sounds gross- and you could view the glittery gold Vegas-like wall stars with photos of the real stars who had eaten there. Poof! Gone!
Liberty's Hardware Cafe, the site of many leisurely post shopping lunches, complete with coconut cream pie, and Hobo Joes barbecue in Raytown both left me in the dust, just about the time the wait staff was getting to know me. I don't have much luck with perfumes, either. It began with a favorite from high school that accompanied me on first dates and Homecoming celebrations, called Stephen B by Coty. I first purchased it at a drug store close to home-probably a clue when its launch was there instead of a department store. It carried me through late high school into college and the last dregs of a bottle remained as I started my career. When I couldn't buy it anymore, I switched to the clean, soapy smelling Weekend Burberry, now relegated to discount store's clearance shelves, and slowly working its way off those as well. I purposefully selected a new launch last year at Christmas, and it evaporated by Easter. Everything now just smells like a combination of insect repellent and dish soap with fruity undertones to me. So I can't eat what I want, and I can't smell the way I want. What else can take a leave of absence? How about any television show I ever thought was clever or cutting edge or funny or sad or that I connected to in any way? Some just passed with time, like my favorite line up of The Brady Bunch, The Partridge Family, Julia, and Room 222, which made up my youthful Friday nights and which I can find now on my cable provider's newly minted retro stations. I am okay binge watching the iconic Seinfeld, Friends, or The Office, in reruns and truth be told, I won’t even
see FAREWELL on page 9
