The next sibling assignment comes from InlandEmpireGirl: "Pick a local business in the Silver Valley during our growing up years. Share a story that happened to you while being at that business." InlandEmpireGirl takes readers back to Stein Brother's IGA, here, and Silver Valley Girl will be posting her entry as soon as possible.
Over the Christmas break just past, Don Elfsten, one of Kellogg's most beloved store owners died. For longer than I've been alive, the Furniture Exchange has been a fixture in Kellogg and Don Elfsten started the business. It's now run by his son, Pat.
Mom has always loved and trusted the Furniture Exchange. Her houses walls are painted with paint from the Furniture Exchange. We've worn out couches, hide-a-bed sofas, recliners from the Furniture Exchange and when they go out the door a new one from the Furniture Exchange comes in.
Our Zenith televisions, study desks, dining sets, kitchen stoves, refrigerators, all have come from there.
Now Pat has a garden spot at the Furniture Exchange. Last summer Mom's deck was covered in starters. Where'd they come from?
The Furniture Exchange.
The only product the Furniture Exchange sold that I really cared about was bicycles.
Don Elfsten carried Rollfast bicycles. They were sturdy, not very expensive, and the brand name always worked for me.
When I jumped on my Rollfast, it was like I had boarded P. F. Flyers on wheels.
If P. F. Flyers would make me "Run Faster and Jump Higher", a Rollfast had me screaming at the speed of sound up Mission Ave, down Utah, and back home up Cameron where we lived.
I don't have a particular story about going to the Furniture Exchange to buy. a Rollfast, but I do remember my most memorable ride.
I was in the fourth grade.
Bruce Walker's dad hadn't died yet, so he hadn't moved to Joplin.
The freeway through Kellogg was being built and was nearly finished. The road, however, had not been surfaced so the on and off ramps and the freeway itself was smooth dirt.
I have no idea why in the fall of 1963 no one cared that Bruce Walker and I rode our bikes east and west on the dirt freeway.
No one was working.
We had a freeway to ourselves.
We rode fast and laughed, not the laugh of getting away with something, but the laughter of pure joy that we could be on our one speed Rollfast bikes from the Furniture Exchange, no stop lights, no stop signs, no cars, no other bicycles.
It was just us.
It was the best bike ride I've ever had.