Summer at Fraser’s Mill

Town Meeting

L ed by Walt Daniels, the town council agreed to hold a special meeting to discuss the grocery store and its role in the community. The meeting was set for Wednesday night, and so many people were planning to go to it that Mary Jane moved choir practice to Thursday.

Grace had butterflies as she and her parents, dressed in their best, walked up to the town hall. A lot of people were already milling around. It was great that so many people were interested in the grocery store, but the crowd gave Grace nervous jitters. It was one thing to talk to her parents and friends about the grocery store, or to give a lecture to a bunch of fifth- and sixth-graders. It was another thing to tell the whole town that they ought to buy more things from your grocery store.

But Grace would be the store’s new owner when her parents retired. She had given up her teaching career for this. Now was not the time to chicken out. If she was going to own a store, she needed to be able to talk about it.

Grace had never been in the town hall before. It was bigger inside than she had envisioned. Dad led the way to the front row of chairs, facing the tables where the council members would sit. “Come on,” he said, beckoning his wife and daughter to follow him. “If we’re gonna talk, we might as well sit in the front.”

Grace sat down, feeling exposed in the front row. Doc appeared at her shoulder, claiming the chair next to her. “Have you ever been to a town meeting?” he asked.

Grace shook her head. “Do they use parliamentary procedures? Like making motions and seconding them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t need to worry about that. We just get up and talk when it’s our turn.”

More people filtered in. It was time to start. The town supervisor called the meeting to order, and everyone stood and recited the Pledge of Allegiance.

Since this was a special meeting, there was only one agenda item: the dollar store’s effect on the local grocery store. Before the agenda, however, it was time for public comment. At this time anyone in town could speak, either about the agenda or about anything else.

Dorothy came up to the podium. “My name is Dorothy Daniels,” she said. “I’ve got something to say.”

Dorothy used up the three minutes allotted to her. She explained that the dollar store was taking business away from the grocery store and that the townspeople needed to support the grocery store and help it stay open.

“If she talks much longer, we won’t need to say anything,” Doc said in Grace’s ear.

Grace couldn’t help smiling. Dorothy was a dear.

Grace wondered if any of the dollar store employees were at the meeting. Maybe, if they lived in Fraser’s Mill. They might be interested in the town’s thoughts on the dollar store too.

After Dorothy sat down, Matt Pierce, the owner of the hardware store, got up.

“What I want to know,” he said, “is whether the town is gonna give the grocery store a bunch of money to stay open. That store’s a privately-owned business. It’s not up to the town to support privately-owned businesses. I never got a handout from the town to support my hardware store.”

He sat down. A murmur went through the audience.

That wasn’t good. If the town thought the Murrays were trying to enrich themselves at the town’s expense, they wouldn’t want to help Murray’s Grocery. Grace and her parents hadn’t come to ask for money; they had come to raise community awareness. There would be time to explain that later, but for the moment, Matt’s speech made things look bad.

Finally public comment was over. “And now,” the town supervisor said, “we’ll hear from Grace Murray, current employee and future owner of Murray’s Grocery.”

Grace had come prepared. She had a stack of notes full of statistics about dollar stores and the towns they had wrecked. At the podium, she read testimonies from store owners whose stores had had to close after a dollar store came in. She urged the people of Fraser’s Mill to be loyal to their own grocery store, because if that store had to close, they would have to drive forty-five minutes to the next closest one.

Dad came up next. He talked about all the things the store brought to the community, and how the store’s prices depended on the prices of its suppliers. Murray’s Grocery couldn’t sell their items at dollar store prices—they wouldn’t even cover expenses if they did.

Mom went to the podium next. At first she had insisted she didn’t want to talk in front of the whole town, but after some convincing from her husband and Grace, she’d changed her mind. She told the people about the plans Grace had come up with for having a larger variety of baked goods at the store and rotating special items in and out. The dollar store didn’t have anything like that.

That was Doc’s cue to speak, and he addressed the town on the subject of health. He talked about food deserts, places where there was no fresh food within a certain radius, and how those food deserts were contributing to the obesity problem in America. As a doctor, he advised that the town do all they could to keep the grocery store open.

“Besides,” he added, “even if you don’t care about eating healthy, it still makes sense to keep the store in business. Do you really want to drive forty-five minutes to get meat for dinner? Do you wanna drive through ice storms to get food in the middle of winter?”

A voice from the back called out. “Preach it, man! I don’t even drive in the snow!” Doc flashed a grin in the man’s direction. The supervisor rapped for order.

“When a community doesn’t have a grocery store, that whole community suffers,” Doc continued. “As a community, we all need to come together and support the store. Don’t drive into Cadillac for your groceries if you can get them here. Don’t switch over to buying your canned goods at the dollar store. We didn’t ask for the dollar store to come here. It’s not doing our town any good. I know the prices there are lower for certain items. But it’s not worth the price you’ll pay if the dollar store drives the grocery out of business.”

Amid scattered clapping, the supervisor rapped for order again.

Alex’s dad came up next to speak in support of the store. He talked about the way his farm worked with Murray’s Grocery. “If you compare a commercial cold-storage strawberry to a strawberry we just picked from the farm this morning, you’ll find a big difference,” he said. “Murray’s Grocery is bringing all that produce right to you.”

With the end of Mr. Martin’s speech, the official business of the meeting was over, and it was time for more public comment.

A middle-aged woman Grace recognized as a bank teller came to the podium.

“I have something to say,” she said. “I get why we need to keep the grocery store open, because if it closes we won’t have one at all. But if the town’s gonna help keep the store open, the store ought to take some suggestions about how to improve things. If I go into Cadillac, I can get pre-made salads and sandwiches, prepped veggie kits for dinners, and all kinds of deli items. If I go to Murray’s Grocery, I have to make dinner from scratch. This isn’t the 1950s. I don’t have time to spend hours making dinner every day. If the store had more grab-and-go options for fresh, healthy food, that would be a big improvement.”

“I second that,” a man’s voice said from the back.

Doc leaned over and whispered in Grace’s ear. “That would keep me from eating canned soup and potato chips for dinner.”

“That’s fair,” Grace whispered back.

Grace saw Mom nodding. Dad’s brow was furrowed. He was probably wondering how that would work with the store’s supplier. The Murrays couldn’t make deli items for the store themselves, under Michigan’s Cottage Food Law, without a commercial kitchen. Maybe they could get a commercial kitchen. Grace guessed that would be expensive.

Hannah was at the podium. “I’m just here for the summer,” she said, “but I agree about having more pre-made salads and sandwiches. All the big stores do it. Also, the store could have more variety in their products. If you want coconut water you have to drive all the way into Cadillac for it. If Murray’s Grocery is going to be a real grocery store—not a mini-mart—they ought to expand their stock.”

Expand? That was another thing for Grace to discuss with her parents. She ought to be taking notes. She pulled out her phone to type a note with the substance of Hannah’s comment.

A mom came up after that. “My family was excited when the dollar store moved in,” she said, “because you can get all kinds of craft supplies there, and my kids love doing crafts. Is there any chance the grocery store would be able to get in a line of craft supplies?”

Another man said he wasn’t convinced this whole thing wasn’t just the Murrays trying to line their pockets. “It’s clear the Murrays can’t keep the store open themselves,” he said. “They oughtta sell it to the town, and we can turn it into a nonprofit. I’ve heard of places that had food co-ops that did really well.”

Turning around, Grace saw a few heads nodding. Oh, dear. Food co-ops were all very well, but she didn’t want to sell the store to the town, and it wasn’t fair to say her family couldn’t keep the store open themselves. No business could stay open if it didn’t have customers buying its products. It wasn’t as though the Murrays were asking the people to give them money for nothing. They weren’t looking for the community’s charity, just their business.

She started to rise from her seat to reply to the man, but Doc put a hand on her arm. “Wait.”

A woman at the podium seconded what the man had said. She thought a nonprofit co-op was a great idea. That way the people of the town had more control over what was sold at the store.

Grace had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. If a lot of people wanted a co-op, it wouldn’t be good. They cared about keeping a grocery store in town, but not about supporting her family’s business.

Ed from the garage came up to the podium.

“I had to close the garage to come to this meeting,” he said. “And it was worth it, just so I could come up and say this. You people talking about making the store into a nonprofit, taking it away from the Murrays—what’s wrong with you? They’re not trying to take money from the town to line their pockets. I’ve known them for thirty years. They’re just trying to make their living like the rest of us.”

A cheer arose somewhere in the back.

“That’s their family business,” Ed went on, “and when Ben and Liz retire, their daughter Grace is gonna take it over. The Murrays care just as much about this town as you do. Grace cared enough to come back all the way from California, where she was a darn good teacher, to work in the store. Don’t you say one more thing about co-ops. This is America, and people have the right to work their own family business and advertise for it without other people trying to take it away from them.”

More cheering. Good old Ed, saving the day. Grace beamed at him as he came down from the podium.

One of the trustees, an elderly man Grace recognized from St. Anthony’s, got up. “Thank you all for your input,” he said. “I’m glad you’re all involved in your community and want to have a say on what goes on around town.”

The town treasurer, Charlie’s uncle, cleared his throat. “I recommend that the grocery store put in a suggestion box so the townspeople can give ideas for improvement. I’m sure the Murrays will be open to suggestions and will implement anything that’s feasible.”

The meeting adjourned. People surrounded Grace’s parents asking questions and making suggestions. Grace stood listening for a few minutes, but too many people were talking at once.

Doc grinned at her. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve got a box in my office we can turn into a suggestion box for the store.”

§

In Doc’s office, Grace sank down into one of the waiting room chairs.

Doc sat in a chair opposite her. “Careful what you touch—this waiting room’s full of germs.”

Grace had enough things to worry about besides germs. “Jim, do you think the meeting went all right? It really worried me when people started talking about a co-op.”

“I thought the meeting was really good. You and your parents made a strong argument for the store, and a bunch of other people did too.”

“Like you. Thank you.”

Doc nodded. “Anytime,” he said. “Anyway, I don’t think the co-op idea is likely to get much traction. Your family’s too well-liked in this town—the townspeople won’t try to force you out like that.”

He spoke confidently, and Grace couldn’t help but feel better. “I’m glad to hear that from you,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting the co-op suggestion at all, so I got really scared when that second lady said she liked the idea too.”

“I think the main takeaway you need to focus on is improving the store to bring in more business,” Doc said. “Getting more healthy pre-prepped foods. Expanding your stock in areas where the dollar store can’t compete. Those are valid ideas to make Murray’s Grocery even more indispensable than it is now.”

Grace nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s pretty scary, though—the dollar store probably has a whole team of people figuring out how to attract all the small-town business. I feel like we’re up against Goliath.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got something the dollar store doesn’t,” Doc said, his eyes serious. “You’ve got the home team advantage. This is your home, and you care about it. You’ve also got your parents, me, and Alex, and most of the town behind you. You’re not going to let them beat you.”

Grace smiled. “No way. Not if I can do anything to prevent it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Doc said. “Come on, let’s find that box to put suggestions in.”