Today was the day I returned to my roots. I tend to do it every year around this time, as do many other folks. It's one of those annual pilgrimages - mine to the malls for Christmas shopping - specifically Jefferson Mall, in Okolona, whence I came - my hometown, if you will.
As a rule - a strong rule - I do not shop at malls. Other than taking someone else to one, I avoid them. I try to shop locally, which for me means inside the Watterson Expressway, or more emphatically, inside Eastern Parkway. The exception to this shopping inside of Eastern Parkway is to do shopping in the little towns and burgs I encounter in my back road travels. Back in September during a visit to a Kentucky Democratic Party State Central Executive Committee meeting in Auburn, Kentucky, I stopped along the way back shopping at the North Visitors Center of the Land Between the Lakes for some t-shirts. Elsewhere on that trip, I stopped again at a flea market just outside of Henderson along US 60.
Or I like to go to bookstores. Through the year, my tendency is to stop in Carmichael's on Bardstown Road or Poor Richard's in Frankfort on Broadway. Out in the state, I've shopped this year at the Four Roses Distillery in Lawrenceburg, the Shaker Village in Harrodsburg, the Kentucky Horse Park north of Lexington on Iron Works Pike, and at Lonnie Napier's Clothing Store on the square in downtown Lancaster.
But, there comes a day that whatever hasn't been bought for Mom and Dad and Kevin and the kids, and the handful of others I usually do a gift for, must be bought. For me, that day is today. And for me, when in need I travel to suburbia along Outer Loop at Jefferson Mall. Frankly, it is an alien world of moms and dads and teenagers and grandparents waiting in line for the kids to see Santa, who was stationed just outside the Sears (still there after all these years) at the eastern end of the mall. I had already planned to go there to buy some things for someone very special in my life - me. I am in need of some new dress shirts and the S&K Mens Store, where I like to shop, had sent me a 60% off coupon.
As it turns out, I would going out that day today anyway, taking my father home, which is to say to my mother's, from Norton Hospital, where he has been for a few days. Mom still lives in the house I grew up in which is not far from Jefferson Mall. I can clearly remember when Jefferson Mall wasn't there and Outer Loop was a common country lane, two lanes wide, from start to end - Third Street Road to Fegenbush Lane. Have you ever checked out the 100 block of Outer Loop? Without question, it is the longest numbered block in Louisville, running from 3rd Street Road to a little east of New Cut Road, a distance of more than a mile. In theory, that should be eleven or twelve blocks, and not just one. But, I digress.
Jefferson Mall's address is 4801 Outer Loop. It sits in what used to be a corn and soybean field, a part of the farm whose homestead still sets on the north side of the road, opposite Robbs Lane. The farm ran from just east of Carol Avenue/Schooler Avenue to just past Robbs Lane, and north to the old Egypt Lane right-of-way, which has been closed since even before the mall was built.
That happened in the 1970s and it has provided employment for a number of people I knew growing up, including me and my mother. In the 1980s, I worked at the Tinder Box Cigar Shop, owned by Norman Igar. The entrance to his walk-in humidor was marked with the appellation Igar's cIgars. Cute. I've also watched nearly every acre of space between the mall back to Preston Highway be developed. There are current plans to develop the land east of the mall, the only large parcel of land left in Okolona generally untouched by development.
When I worked in the mall, it was arranged somewhat differently, and there was no humongous food court, a place where today perhaps one thousand of God's souls were enjoying food fit for very few if any. And there were no mid-aisle kiosks, or kiosques, as I have seen it otherwise spelled. Today, the central aisle is filled to the max with these small free-standing heralds of economic activity. I saw my young Pakistani friend from the old Dad's Food Market on East Broadway operating one of these. He is a college student who aspires to be a doctor, and I asked him how the schooling was going. He reported it is rough but he is progressing, a good thing.
Many of the store names have changed or they have simply disappeared. The mall was originally anchored by Stewart's and Penney's and Shillito's and Sears [with no apostrophe as it was once Sears and Roebuck's], if I remember correctly. Stewart's became Bacon's which became Hess's and a slew of other names, one starting with an L, before it disappeared altogether. At the original western entrance was an Orange Julius place. Now, I'll be honest, I hadn't thought about Orange Juliuses in years until about a week ago when in a walk over to the Henry Clay Hotel downtown, one of my fellow travellers mentioned she remembered coming downtown to have an Orange Julius, somewhere down closer to Fourth and Broadway. Admittedly, she is older than me and I do not remember the store in question. But, I do remember Orange Juliuses to be had at Jefferson Mall in the 1980s and 1990s. And since she mentioned it the other day, I've been wanting one, but not enough to seek one out. Well, there is still a place there to get one, although I was so excited about seeing the display, I have no idea what the place is actually called. Then, I realized just how long ago it has been since I've had an Orange Julius at Jefferson Mall. And proving I am getting to be an old man, I told the server behind the counter a story which began with the words, "You're not old enough to know this but . . . " Any story which begins with those words is usually told only for the gratification of the story-teller as opposed to the young listener. Today's episode was no different. He just looked at me as I explained where the Orange Julius store used to be. It occurred to me that since he was probably 16 or 17, it is entirely possible that even his parents are too young to remember the old location. Nonetheless I rambled on as he prepared the concoction, pouring the powder and the ice in the blender, whizzing it around for a minute, and serving it up in a cup. That made the whole pilgrimage worthwhile.
In fact, that may have been the reason for the pilgrimage. People tend to go on these religious pilgrimages because it is something they and their parents have done for years - a tradition. Often they go without knowing what good - or bad - will come of the journey. If they find some inner light or raison d'etre, so be it. That is a big deal and very important to them. For me, on a much lighter and personally fulfilling note, returning to the burbs and hitting the mall had a purpose - finding an Orange Julius and remembering the way Jefferson Mall used to be back in the old days.
That's all for now - I still have a few things to go buy.
Merry Christmas.
Labels:
History
