If you grew up in Rocky Creek, Mississippi then you know this store well.
I don’t care how the sign reads today, or ever, it will always be “Davis’ Country Store” to me and everyone else that grew up in my generation.
The road leading left is appropriately named “Brushy Creek Road”, and just up that road is a creek named, you guessed it, “Brushy Creek”.
You don’t know refreshing until you’ve ran full speed across a sandbar and dove headlong into that crystal clear cold water on a hot August day. Glorious only scratches the surface.
There were several swimming holes on that creek that everyone would frequent in the summer.
There was “The Bridge”, “The Big Hole”, The Caves”, “The Swings”, all appropriately named. They have all been closed off for decades now, thanks to the litigious society we live in today.
Before the freedom of high school, and the 4 wheeler revolution, it was a family trip. My brothers, friends, neighbors kids, maybe a dog or three, would all pile in the back of our truck, another act that will get you thrown in parent jail today, and off we would go to “the creek”.
Returning home without stopping by Davis’s on the way was simply not allowed. It was as serious as twice a day church on Sunday, you didn’t just not do it!
Arriving at Davis’ after a swim, we would spill out of the back of the truck from all sides, no shoes or shirt required, ever.
You entered through a screen door and there was no A/C, just a box fan behind the counter by the register, and we almost always knew the person working it, and they almost always knew us back.
The candy bars were kept in the cooler with the drinks, so they didn’t melt. A Nehi Chocolate and a Milkshake candy bar was my go to purchase and when you were ten years old, that was about as good as it got.
My next favorite combination was an RC Cola and a triple decker moon pie. RC stands for “Royal Crown”, just in case you ever wondered, and they came in big tall glass bottles that would get you a dime if you brought it back empty.
As I got older I had a couple of friends that lived within walking distance, and we would hike down to Davis’ often for a snack and perhaps a pack of baseball cards. 15 cards per pack and a piece of chewing gum in each one.
I remember standing out front and thumbing through those cards to see who got who, before sticking mine in the back pocket of my jeans to take home and add to the collection.
We would sometimes talk big on that walk back home about the day we would be on a baseball card too. Big dreams in a map dot town.
I’m 51 years old now and except for the burglar bars on the front, another sign of the times, it looks just like it did forty+ years ago.
I have yet to drive by that store when I am back home in “The County” without picturing that little brown Ford Courier pick-up truck parked by the door…. but I never stop, and I never will.
I’ll never walk in there again because, in my mind…. I can still hear the screen door slam and feel the grit on that concrete floor under my bare feet. There is no air conditioner inside, the candy bars are still in the cooler, that box fan is still behind the counter, the person working the register probably knows me, and I probably know them back… and that’s how it’s going to remain.
The joys of childhood in rural America.
Here’s the thing….
Do stuff with your children while they are little. I didn’t say buy them expensive things. I said “do stuff” and it doesn’t have to be huge. Just letting a child walk in a store and pick out a snack and a drink is a big deal to them, and they’ll remember it. You can trust me on that one.
From Nose To Toes!
Shane / #16