APRIL 10, 2015
Growing up in Louisa – News stands
Weekly feature . . . by Mike Coburn
When I recently studied a picture of the Bargain Store on the corner of Main Cross and Main, my eye caught sight of Ern’s newsstand that was built over the several steps that led from the street to the sidewalk. The building was barely roomy enough to hold Ern Compton as he sat on a chair in front of the little window, always facing south in the iconic little structure. He was a fairly large man, at least to me at the time, perhaps weighing over two hundred pounds, in spite of a missing arm which I’m sure made working a challenge. He was also blind, both caused by an explosion of a dynamite cap he was holding in his hand during a New Year’s or July Forth celebration well before my time. I think that fireworks were hard to get and illegal, but blasting supplies were available. It may have happened some other way, but this is what I was told growing up.
I was always impressed that he handled his money by holding the cash drawer with the stump of one arm while sorting through the paper dollars and coins with the other hand. He would often put whatever he wished to manipulate under the stump and then take out with the other. I witnessed this multiple times since I was a regular customer during my teen years. The lenses of both of his eyes were clouded so very little light ever got though, making him all but totally blind. During my high school years doctors had learned to transplant lenses, so he became an early patient for this new operation. I remember praying for him and waiting to hear the good news that he had his sight back. It did improve his ability to see considerably, but did not accomplish all what we’d all hoped for. He described to me that he could now see shadows and blurry figures moving about, but not well enough to necessarily identify people until they spoke. I thought about the fuzzy pictures that the French artist Monet painted late in his life as his vision weakened. In his case it helped start a whole new trend. Ern was left to get along as he had for years. I remember him having a sense of humor and occasional sarcasm.
His success at building a business and operating the stand day in and day out was encouragement to me that life and its tragedies can be overcome. Now, I see the real miracle as actually operating such a stand profitably. I don’t know if he might have been an easy mark for fraud, but he seemed to prosper. To make it a little tougher, a block away, just across Main Cross, a second newsstand stood selling newspapers and magazines, too. Hack’s Newsstand was just outside the door of the County Courthouse, and also operated the town’s only taxi service.
Thinking of what was a depressed era in this little town, I wonder how two stands could make enough money to support several people. I knew that a side business that Ern Compton had was to make loans to people who were a little short of money. In essence, he bought the next paycheck from several teachers and others about town. I have no idea of whether his rates were fair, but the loans were easy and quick to get when compared to running to the bank.
I don’t know if Hack did the same, but the taxi was something useful since many families in Louisa didn’t have a car. Most of the town was within walking distance, but if you wanted to see someone off the bus route or train route, who lived a good ways out, a taxi was a handy thing. The rough and tough car driver, Lula Bell Henson (I think was her name), was a woman who could stand her own with any man. Her talk was tough and she was one of very few women I ever saw wearing pants in those days. Back then, ladies and girls wore dresses and skirts, except when maybe out on the farm, doing chores. It was pretty much my generation when that began to change. I think that Hollywood helped to usher that in, along with the magazines that Ern and Hack sold.
I had asked Fred Jones about of his memories of the newsstands and he responded, “I used to go by Hack Moore’s almost every day and carry out the garbage. He lived in the basement of that building. Not many knew that. Norman Pack’s wife used to cook his meals every day and Mary Ann would take them to him. I think that there was some relationship there. Newman Marcum used to loaf there all of the time with Hack. I last was at his building in 1963 and he gave me a graduation present. When he died they took the building down. Later they took down Ern’s News Stand. I have the sign that was on it here in my garage. Ern retired and remarried again and gave everything to her. I have a picture of Ben & Hazel Compton. They were close friends of my father and Ben thought the world of my brother Charlie.” Just hearing those names brought back memories of people I hadn’t heard anything about for years.
I think Ed Land also sold some magazines, but otherwise, I don’t recall seeing any carried by other stores. Back then most grocery stores were not truly self-service so didn’t use the ‘point of sale’ displays you see today. By that, I mean you went in a grocery store and gave the person behind the counter your list and they collected and bagged the stuff. By the time I was a senior in high school, the IGA was there, and some of the others were allowing folks to pick out what they wanted and put it on the counter. I remember when Andy York told me that when women came in for hygiene items they go get them and put them on the counter and then give Andy the rest of the list to pull. Modesty prevailed in those days. Now days, food lines at the supermarkets are lined with every kind of magazine so a newsstand turned out to be a section in the store. Apparently they sell well enough to maintain their ‘floor space’ in these very competitive outlets.
I remember a few practical jokes we got from Ern that we used to surprise or trick houseguests, or classmates. One was a spoon that had an open bottom, so when tea was served, the spoon would be in the sugar looking perfectly normal. When the guest lifted the spoon while engaged in conversation they would move the spoon over their tea and dump . . . nothing. The sugar had run out without their notice. I remember one lady trying to add several spoonful’s before she looked down and caught on.
I remember Ern selling me some bent nails that were twisted together in such a way it seemed they could not be separated, but I was assured there was a way. After a frustrating hour or so I stumbled on the solution and was able to repeat it over again. It was time to take this to my friends to see how they would do. Later, when walking downtown an old farmer called me over to make a wager that I couldn’t get these two nails apart. I looked at it and told him I thought I could do it. I did, but told him he could keep his money since I’d worked out the solution days before. I left him sitting there as I walked away thinking that he would have been less generous if ‘the shoe was on the other foot.’
We got other tricks from Ern and I think I bought other stuff from him, always stopping to talk. Sometimes he was very friendly, and other times a little gruff. It’s likely he had to work at his job and didn’t need a kid hanging about.
You can take some meat or vegetables and put them in a pan, pour water on them and bring up the heat. In the end you’ll have soup, but how much better the soup would be if you added a few other things like salt, pepper, pasta, flour, sugar, beef stock, onions, and countless other things each bring their own flavor and enrich the soup. It takes all kinds of people to make a town. Louisa had its characters and was richer for it. Each one was important in their own way and each one would be missed when they left. We all leave behind our stories, sometimes seen from different perspectives, but all enriching the soup of life.
mcoburncppo@aol.com PS: For those that like murder mysteries I have two books on Amazon. You can download them on your computer, tablet, or Kindle.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00M0TSZDI and http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00N669XLW
