Iowa Five-and-Dime Stores Kids Loved

 

Before Walmart swallowed up everything in a 30-mile radius, you had the dime store.

Not that you called it that. You just said you were “going to town.”

 

Mom needed thread. Dad needed something he couldn’t quite describe. You needed a couple dollars and about an hour to wander.

 

Every Iowa kid knew the layout without thinking. Toys somewhere near the front. School supplies off to the side. Candy close enough to beg for. And if you were lucky… a lunch counter in the back.

 

You didn’t run in and out. You drifted. Picked things up. Put them back. Checked your money again like it might’ve magically increased.

 

These weren’t big stores. That’s why they worked.

Neustadt's Deptatment Store Davenport Dave Neustadt

 

The Daily Times. July 11, 1913.

This was a new one on me. I'm guessing it was a department store that featured clothing and shoes, but I wasn't able to find much about it online. What I like best is the picture of the building and the owner, Dave Neustadt. The store was located on the corner of Second and Main Street in Davenport.

Remembering Randall's Grocery Stores

 

If you grew up in Iowa anytime from the 1960s into the 1990s, you probably remember Randall’s.

Once a week, the entire family packed into the station wagon and headed to the grocery store. Mom followed the sales. Dad studied the steaks. But us kids. We made a beeline for the cereal aisle—Captain Crunch. Sugar Smacks. Applejacks. Count Chocula.

And if you were lucky, you got a nickel to ride the rocket or the race car in the lobby. Or maybe a few cents to blow in the candy aisle.

That was the kid’s perspective.

Randall’s wasn’t the biggest grocer in Iowa. It didn’t need to be. It carved out a solid spot, mostly in eastern Iowa, and did a good business by giving people what they wanted at a fair price.

Killian's When Shopping Downton Felt Like An Experience

 

Before malls came along and pulled everything under one roof, you went downtown. Not once in a while. All the time. And if you were in Cedar Rapids, Killian’s was part of that trip whether or not you planned it.

You didn’t walk in thinking, “I need to buy something.” You walked in because it was there. Because everyone went in, and it felt like something was happening inside.

Enormous doors. That blast of cooler air in the summer. That department store smell—clothes, perfume, candy, all mixed together.

And if you were a kid, you weren’t thinking about shopping. You were heading straight for the escalator.

Up. Down. Up again. No reason. Nobody stopped you unless you got stupid about it. Same deal with the elevators. Half the fun was just riding them. If there was an operator in there, even better. It felt like you were getting away with something.

Three Iowa Grocery Stores From The Past You Probably Forgot About

 

A&P — The Giant That Felt Like Everywhere

 

A&P got its start in 1859 selling tea and coffee. By the time your grandparents were pushing a cart, A&P had turned grocery shopping into an art. Straight aisles. Neat stacks. Labels facing forward. Everything in its place.

 

It felt efficient. Maybe a little stiff. But it worked.

 

A&P pushed its brands hard. Eight O’clock Coffee. Ann Page. Those names were everywhere you looked. They were cheaper. People trusted them. And you could fill a cart and never touch a name brand.

 

People planned meals around their weekly ads. If pork chops were on sale, you ate pork chops that week. Simple as that.

 

Then things changed. Stores got bigger. Flashier. More relaxed. A&P felt old while everything around it felt new.

 

By the 70s it was slipping. By the 80s it was in trouble. It hung on for years, but the spark was gone. When it finally shut down in 2015, it felt less like a shock and more like the end of a long fade.

 

Still, for a long time, A&P wasn’t just a grocery store. It was the grocery store.