My daughter Kristen, once wrote about Gomes Grocery, a place she had never seen, a place she had only heard stories about from me, her mother. When I read her story, I almost cried out with surprise, recognition, and longing. This was a place, where everybody knew your name. It was a home away from home. It has such a special place in my heart, with my father in the center.
Gomes Grocery
 

"Today, we are sitting in the front yard. Under the birch trees and jasmine.  Lying in the grass that prickles our necks.  Leaves falling all around, staring at the sky.  Watching clouds that make you feel like the world’s turning. That dizzy feeling like when you’re at the beach, facing the sea, and the tide goes back in.  So fast, you think you’re going to fall over.  Little lumps of sand under your toes and everything whizzing by.
 
Anyway, we listen like that.  She tells us about 480 Washington Street and her father’s grocery store up the block, and her school just around the corner.  Oh, what I’d give to go back again, just once. She says. To visit.  How I’d love to go back and see my father again.  I was his favorite, you know.

And she tells us about the time she fell into her brothers’ duck pond in a new yellow dress.  They tricked her. Her yellow bows and frills all muddy and wet.  But she didn’t care.  She’d rather play with them than stay inside all dressed up.  She had brothers all right.  One on each side of her, bruises on each shoulder if she told.  And there was her little brother too, who bit her toe once when she was sleeping.  Who swallowed pennies that came out green in his diapers.  Once Uncle Tommy ran to Gomes Grocery naked because he was too little to know.  He climbed a chair to reach the lock to get out and her father covered Uncle Tommy up in his apron and carried him home again.  She had so many stories, my mom.  Telling us about the time all of her father’s friends lifted her up to the pay phone in front of the store so she could call Richard, some cute, blond boy from her first grade.  "Open The Door Richard", they all sang.
 

Most of her stories were about the grocery store.  Gomes Grocery, where she worked when she was old enough.  Where her father worked too.  It was his store and he would tell her, you’re eating all my profits!  That’s why I have so much gold and silver in my mouth, she says, from eating his profits, soda pop and candy, lots of coke and she holds her mouth open for us to see." By Kristen Austin

My Father, Tommy &
Bill Hammond the butcher
I remember once, my nephew Pat came into the  store bragging about how he could spell anything. My dad said, Oh…..if you are so smart, spell asparagus. My nephew said that was an easy word it was bxztgde. My dad said that was wonderful and gave him a piece of candy and sent him on his way! I was shocked when I heard that story from my dad and was just getting warmed up to give my big lecture about the value of spelling words correctly, when my dad said, " Dona, I wanted him to have confidence!" What could I say?
One day my same nephew came in bragging about what a good eater he was. He could eat anything. My dad asked him if he could eat a raw onion. "Sure!" he said and took a giant bite out of a big juicy red onion. My dad had to stop him from eating the whole thing. He gave him something to wash the onion taste away.
I loved Gomes Grocery and I wanted to dedicate this page to my dad! Although he died in 1967, he still lives on in my mind and heart.