The General Store. (Courtesy photo)

Driving through town recently, I noticed the “Open” flag flying over the General Store’s entrance. I knew that the store had closed­—open now only on Saturdays to sell off the remaining stock—and that the building was for sale. Having worked at the General Store for nine years many years ago, I wanted to go in and see the place just once more—and talk to Joyce Garrick for whom I had worked.

I started working at the Harvard Pharmacy about 1974 when it was located where the old post office used to be and Harvard Cleaners is now. I moved over to the General Store with Wil Garrick and his wife, Joyce, to work on the second floor in the Camera Center.

In the old store there was one glass counter that displayed one Nikon and one Canon camera. Although Wil was a pharmacist, photography was his passion and his passion was contagious to those who came into the little store with an interest in photography. That was the biggest reason for the move to the General Store. His photography business had really taken off and he needed room for displaying all the photographic equipment he and Joyce wanted to sell. The Camera Center was a real photographer’s store. Customers came from far and wide because Wil and Joyce had a good reputation for good prices and extensive knowledge. The store was very successful.

I recall working upstairs in the Camera Center when Pope John came to Boston. I had befriended several nuns from St. Benedict’s in Still River who came in regularly for photographic supplies. Talking to one who had come in for film as they were going in to see the Pope I said how much I would love to go in to see him, too, but it was “invitation only.” One of the other sisters leaned over to me and said, “If you really want to go, I can lend you a habit to use and you can come in with us.” Wow! Having been raised Catholic, I thought, “My folks would be so proud!” Unfortunately, the nuns were going early next morning and my motherly duties didn’t permit it: it was just too short notice.

The General Store was truly a general store. At that time, Mabel Sawyer and Margie Adams were the salespeople who kept the General Store running, keeping shelves stocked and waiting on customers. I remember that when Margie put in an order to our supplier of tobacco, candy and other notions, she made sure we ordered Luther Willard’s favorite pipe tobacco, which we did not normally carry.

I remember, too, that about the end of July or early August, Margie would place a sizeable order for school supplies. At that time we had two whole aisles just for school supplies. By mid-August most of the town’s kids had come in and bought their notebooks, pencils, dividers, colored pens and just about everything needed for school. No sooner was that done than but we had to order Halloween paraphernalia and then the Christmas cards. Some of the favorite cards were the Charles Overly cards, because they were lovely pen- and-ink drawings of our town center. But we carried so many other choices as well. And they would sell. At that time townspeople bought all of these things from the store. Over the counter medications, needles and thread, ice cream, candy, and cosmetics – yes, there used to be a cosmetics counter with Revlon cosmetics and many other brands, too, as well as veterinary and sickroom supplies. But NEVER cigarettes. Wil refused to carry cigarettes. For a brief time the store sold Cliffs Notes. The kids loved that, but I think Wil’s conscience got the best of him and he soon got rid of them.

People came in the store and would run into friends while waiting for Betty or Hal to fill a prescription. They met their kids there after a Brownie meeting or Girl Scouts. And when Wil finally had coffee and tea available in the niche under the stairs, the locals would often congregate there early in the morning and discuss the town gossip or local news—usually Mario Barba, Jack Spero, Bill Cory and always George Dickson, to name a few.

When school let out for the day, hordes of noisy, hungry children descended upon us. After awhile, it became pretty obvious that some of the goods going out the door were not always paid for – mostly chips, candy, cupcakes, cookies and other sweets.

Wil wanted to catch some kids and teach them a lesson so they would tell their friends. He made a plan. When school let out, four of us took our positions to keep a close eye out. My position was halfway down the stairs from the Camera Center. We had to try to keep these kids from starting in on a life of crime.

I remember once a little girl, about seven years old, came into the store and walked around, looking nervous. Her brothers had just been told to leave for misbehaving. She went over to the ice cream freezer, slid open the top, reached in and took a chocolate-covered ice-cream-on-a-stick. When she thought no one was looking, she put the ice cream inside the waistband of her shorts.

When I saw this, I went upstairs to the Camera Center and told Wil. He always wanted to be told if we saw someone taking something as he wanted to handle it himself. He came downstairs as calmly as you please, walked over the child and started talking to her. He asked her how her mother was and what grade she was in this year and what she was doing in Brownies this year. He just kept talking to her until you could see the melting ice cream streaming down her shorts and legs. When he was sure the ice cream, had totally melted, he ruffled the top of her hair and said, “Goodbye, say hello to your mom and dad.” He never said a word about the ice cream. He told me later that he didn’t think she’d ever do that for her brother again. Eventually we only let in a handful of youngsters at a time.

Wil was the only pharmacist in the store early on and he dealt with prescriptions and animal medications as well. Many times he had me deliver prescriptions to elderly people from Harvard and also Ayer who lived alone and couldn’t easily get out. Wil received countless late-night calls from parents with a sick child, and he would always get to the store to meet them and fill the script.

The General Store was a small town store, where you knew nearly everyone who walked in the door. Being a girl from the big impersonal city of Detroit, Mich., I found this charming and comforting—like being home with family.

Everything has its proper time and place and the General Store had a wonderful run for a good long time. I learned many things watching Wil and Joyce work a business together; things that would prepare me for when my husband Jack and I started our own business a few years later. It was, for a long time, the heart of our town - where we all went at one time or other. We visited, gossiped and shopped. We each went there for reasons of our own and, for me, its passing is like losing a good and close friendship of long standing.