God Bless the Little Man (1270 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.9 on 23 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by nitty (View user info) at 2004-09-14 13:07:01 EDT
He didn't choose his lifestlye, not by a long shot. If he had been born in feudal times, his situation would have most accurately been described as indentured.
Tommy Kellogg was a third generation family businessman. As a small child, he remembered sitting on a stool, behind the countertop of his grandfather's general store. He loved that store, loved it more than home, more than school, more than anything. More than anything, because the store had everything. They sold gas, but not enough gas to pay the bills. The gas was sold to get people in the front door, in hopes they would find something else to buy.
The smell of the store was one of his first memories, and would no doubt be one of his last. A smell like no other. A combination of motor oil that soaked the rags thrown in the steel drum trashcan that sat beside the back door, the fertilizer that seemed to always find it's way out of the most insignificant holes in the bags sitting on the bottom shelf of the garden section, the freon that chilled the soda cans in the glass-doored display case, and the cookies that his grandmother would bake each night, every night, and wrap individually for sale the next day. A smell that could never be replicated. Never, that is, unless you had a similar store of your own.
Tommy was taught from his earliest days that he could be anything he wanted to be, taught as most children are taught. He spent his high school summers, afternoons, and weekends in that store, only this time as an employee. Long after his grandfather had retired and his dad had taken over, Tommy was there. He recognized customers, and they recognized him. There weren't too many strangers in Yadkinville, North Carolina, and none, it seemed, to Tommy. These people were like family, and they had watched him grow up - remembered him as a small boy sitting on his grandfather's lap.
Tommy would have liked to say he still loved that store, but he didn't like to lie. He loved other things. Baseball, mostly. Baseball was something he didn't have to be taught, he just knew how to play. An all-state outfielder, Tommy was almost guaranteed a college scholarship, if not a draft pick by the time he finished high school. But the store was a paycheck, and having him around made his father happy. So he put in his afternoons, talking with customers and restocking cans of paint, and he waited. Waited to get away, to leave that small town, to make a name for himself somewhere else. Doing something else. Being someone else.
He never forgot, nor will ever forget the phone call. The one that called him to the office out of 3rd period English class. The one that came 12 days after his 18th birthday. The one that told him his father had died.
That day was the only baseball practice he ever missed.
Now his future had been changed, changed in ways he never could have imagined at the time. College was put on hold for awhile, scholarships were given up. Someone had to run the store. Tommy's mother was getting older, and couldn't do it on her own. The only thing Tommy's father gave him that was stronger that opportunity was loyalty, and family was number one. So Tommy ran that store.
And the weeks turned into months, and the months to years, and Tommy was there. Running the store much like his father, and his father before him. Always willing to pump gas in the rain so the customer wouldn't get wet. Willing to be called out of bed at night to change a flat for one of the townspeople. Willing to make small repairs on cars, and not charging a dime. Why?
"Because we don't do repairs." he would always say.
A few years later, other stores began to open in the area. The mega-chains and super-marts came in, and Tommy watched his business walk out. Why would someone spend three dollars for a gallon of milk when it was two dollars a block away? Even he couldn't find the sense in that. Buy jumbo sized, save a penny. His older customers stayed, coming in to talk about the fishing and the weather, and maybe even buy a cola or two. But they came to talk, not to spend, and that wouldn't pay the bills.
So Tommy hung on, for a few more years. He couldn't sell his wife's cookies anymore. More times than not, he'd give them to the kids getting off the bus in front of his store. "Tell your parents to come and see me." he would always say, and he was sure they told their parents. But no one came to see him. The townspeople told him to try and lure the younger customer, but Tommy knew what they meant. He didn't sell beer. He coudn't. He wouldn't. His father didn't, his grandfather didn't, and if his church said that drinking was a sin, Tommy wasn't going to be a part of it. He soon found out that selling Slurpees didn't pay the bills.
And Tommy hated that store. Hated it more than anything. Almost anything. Almost as much as the other stores, only a block away.
So he worked harder, stayed longer, and tried to make each customer more happy. Soon the megasuperchainmarkets began to sell gas, too...and before long Tommy could count the day's customers on one hand, watching the parking lots a block away swarm with cars, vans, trucks, and most importantly, people.
Now the bank rents his station to a man 2 towns away, a man who pays others to work the store for him. There's no more gas, no more fertilizer, no more cookies. They sell lotto tickets and Budweiser and tee shirts.
And Tommy watches. Watches from afar, from his front yard. The same yard he grew up in. Watches the store, and watches his young son playing in the yard. Looking at his son, Tommy loves that old store again. Loves it more than anytihng. And wishes things hadn't changed so much.
NOTE: This is an adaption of a song, 'Little Man,' by Alan Jackson. Credit where credit is due.
User Reviews
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2005-09-07 16:21:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by fluoxetinehydrochloride (user info) at 2005-02-23 11:03:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
For Rambo
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2005-02-09 13:41:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
ROCKS
Good job
Submitted by vettesrule88 (user info) at 2004-12-16 22:44:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
alan jackson
thats all that needs to be said
Submitted by TimeCop (user info) at 2004-12-16 21:07:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It was purty (I'm from the South.)
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2004-12-16 11:38:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I love that song. It's so sad and cheesy.
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-12-16 10:10:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
.. :' }
Submitted by DeathJester (user info) at 2004-12-16 09:30:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Plus 2.
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2004-11-24 12:38:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
And another for Alan Jackson.
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2004-11-24 12:38:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Freakmagnet (user info) at 2004-11-05 22:58:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Almost makes me resent capitalism...almost.
Submitted by steph (user info) at 2004-11-05 22:40:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well written.
Submitted by Durae (user info) at 2004-11-05 22:24:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is beautiful and so sad.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2004-10-30 08:53:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wonderful.
Submitted by Fr057m0urn3 (user info) at 2004-10-30 00:08:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This really deserves more readers and +2s.
Submitted by Sepsis (user info) at 2004-10-29 21:29:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
well written, good stuff
Submitted by strider (user info) at 2004-09-14 18:08:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good stuffo.
Submitted by shane2004 (user info) at 2004-09-14 17:29:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I guess it's alright but it could use more car chases and gun play !
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2004-09-14 14:33:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome.
Wait....You're in my Ubermadness bracket. I meant to say it sucked.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2004-09-14 14:15:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Beautifully written.
Submitted by Badlands (user info) at 2004-09-14 13:46:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Really good.
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2004-09-14 13:38:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
great.
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2004-09-14 13:20:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I REALLY liked this.