Call it Piggly Wiggly if you want to, but to
me, and other life-long residents of East Brewton, AL, it'll always be "Big Bear." Silly as it seems, that small town grocery store is more than a place. It's a feeling.
If you're lucky enough to know, you're blessed.
Over a hundred years old now, this store has weathered its fair share of storms- literally and figuratively. It's been flooded more times than an old Chrysler, but somehow, someway, it's still standin'. And I think maybe that's why the frequent patrons of that special place connect with it. Because we're still standing too.
Board the windows, gather the sand bags, give away the bread and meat. Haven't you heard the creek keeps risin'? Somebody said Murder Creek's gon' crest by Wednesday. How we gonna get to work? Is school canceled?
No open motor boats down Main Street. It's the law, you know? Everybody knows why. Survey the damage, yes, but open motors will burst the windows. The water recedes and there we are. All back to business as usual:
Playin' hop scotch on the red tiles only- don't get caught steppin' on them yellow ones
Beggin' for a quarter- buckle up, that black stallion's been known to buck
Listenin' to the whistlin' manager- can't wait to Fly Away to ol' Glory
Buyin' pink eye purple hulls- the fifth Sunday sing is here
Hearin' about Mrs. Ethel's fall- bless her heart
Waitin' for a register to open- it's okay we ain't in no hurry
Writin' a check for $20 over- sure, we'll wait 'til Friday to cash it
Moppin' the floor- you youngin's don't fall
Grabbin' only a head of lettuce- don't get to talkin'
Comin' up short with the purchase- just bring it next time
Listenin' to the radio buzzin'- today's gonna be a scorcher
Watchin' the crowd gatherin' on the hill- have the fireworks started yet?
Fightin' in the parking lot- she shoulda know'd better
Showin' pictures of the new grandbaby- head of thick, black hair just like her Momma
Poppin' the hood, you got a pair of jumper cables?- Sh'ore appreciate it
Tyin' on a red apron- time to earn some money
Splashin' in mud puddles- I'm gonna' whip your little butt
Writin' down the recipe right now- it was some kinda good
Loadin' up the paper bags- yes, sir, you most certainly are gonna keep this tip
Waitin' for the dog in front of the sliding doors- here ol' boy you can tote a bag too
Buzzin' fly on the tomatoes- don't matter, gonna wash it anyway
Wavin' at Bobby Brooks- don't be shy, tell him "Hi"
Slicin' up porkchops- can you cut 'em extra thin?
Seein' your old flame- never would have worked out, but still don't make eye contact
Fryin' chicken- grab us a bucket, don't feel like cookin'
Askin' about your momma 'n 'em- they all doin' good
Readin' about "it" in the Brewton Standard- visitation is Monday, sh'ore hate to hear it
Prayin' for the family- saw 'em at church Sunday
Hopin' the Good Lord gon' see 'em through- we know He will
Callin' it Piggly Wiggly, Super Foods, "The Store" but knowin' we all mean "Big Bear"
Lovin' where you grew up- wishin' it could last forever