Douglas’s Store

Mr and Mrs Douglas ran a produce store in Maclean. It was on the side of the road that led in from Yamba along the river bank not far from where it turned to head into the main street. Mum and Dad would often shop there. They always came across as a friendly couple. To a young boy they seemed old and that may have been the case as I can’t recall if they had sold out before I left home. I am however certain that they were not running the store for all that long after I joined the RAAF.

Douglas’s sold some groceries but not the full range of things the family needed. They also sold other stuff that came in useful on the farm, such as food to supplement that which was available on the farm to feed the chooks and pigs.

I feel certain that Nana Marsh sold eggs to Douglas’s. I remember specially made boxes that allowed eggs to be stacked row on row in cardboard packing somewhat similar in appearance to today’s egg cartons, but laid flat. There must have been a couple of dozen to each row. Nana also supplied eggs to neighbours and others that would visit her to buy eggs. This was in the days before regulation decreed that no one could sell eggs to anyone but the Egg Board. Disgusted, Nana vowed she would throw her eggs in the creek before she would sell them to the Board – and I don’t recall them getting any of her eggs.

Stores like Douglas’s don’t exist anymore – unless you find them in historic villages. Mr and Mrs Douglas stood on one side of the counter and the customer on the other. This was not self-service like Coles or Woolworths. Mum would stand there with her shopping list. ‘A pound of flour please’. And Mr or Mrs Douglas would weigh out a pound of flour from the flour bin into a brown paper bag and place it on the counter. ‘And I’d like two pounds of sugar thankyou.’ And so the process would be repeated until the list was exhausted and the transaction completed in Pounds, Shillings and Pence. The way the Douglas’s did it was the way other business did it.

Thursday evenings in either Coles or Woolworths tripping over boxes and pallets, trying to shove shelf packers out of the way to find product, or trying to find where they’ve put it this week, often brings back memories of Douglas’s and other stores like theirs. Then there’s the hours I must loose every year trying to find a favourite product after the marketing department has decided they need to change the packaging. Modern supermarkets offer an array of products Douglas’s would never have dreamed possible – 11 varieties of baked beans, tomatoes with chives, parsley or 8 other combinations of herbs, frozen meals, fruit and vegetables from all over the world and more. The world to us in exchange for a swipe of our credit card.

The modern supermarket may offer much but it is so impersonal. On those Thursday evenings as I manoeuvre around the assistants who are not so much there to serve as to replenish the shelves I feel I’m in the way. I don’t feel like a customer – it’s more about keeping the flow of goods moving from the storeroom to the shelves to the trolley and through the all-important check out. And now they want me to scan, pack and pay myself without any contact with the check-out chick. The ultimate shopping experience – walk into the store, load my trolley and pay for my goods without any human interaction whatsoever.

This is progress? At what cost? Mr and Mrs Douglas were part of a community where people had time to stop, talk, interact and get to know each other. I’m certain that they never dreamed of taking over the world, of forcing their competitors out of business. While the spin departments of Coles, Woolworths and other large companies may spend megabucks on promoting themselves as good corporate citizens giving back to the community we know that ultimately they exist to make a profit for their shareholders. And where that goal conflicts with the interest of some remote community in which they operate their business it will be the community that ultimately suffers.