My maternal grandfather, Rudy Lange (a.k.a. “Opa”), was an entrepreneur. He completed 10th grade at St. Mary’s High School in Fredericksburg before starting his employment at various locations in Fredericksburg. In the spring of 1939, he became co-owner of Red and White (a grocery store) with partner, Paul Nebgen. Later, my grandfather and his wife, Edna Lange (“Oma”), became sole owners of that establishment, changing the name to Lange’s Grocery.
My grandfather was a kind, helpful man. Their mom-and-pop grocery store, located at 906 N. Llano St., served the needs of the community. I remember the business phone number was listed as WY 7-3652.
My grandparents worked in the store with assistance from an extra employee or two. One earlier employee was Herbort Schmidt. His recent obituary in December, at age 97, indicated he had worked at Lange & Nebgen’s Red & White store at age 12.
Some other employees I recall working at Lange’s were brothers Steven and Kenneth Cornehl. Kenneth drove to work on a motorcycle and parked next to my grandparents’ black Willys jeep.
I and several of my siblings worked part-time at the store during our high school and even junior high years, staggering based on our age levels.
I lived with my parents and four siblings at a residence adjacent to my grandparent’s home and their grocery store.
I recall my grandfather having a regular weekday schedule of getting his bank deposit together in the morning. He waited for my grandmother to walk across the street from their residence (the current site of the Methodist Hospital Sleep Lab) to relieve him, and he ventured to Main Street to take care of business transactions. He departed around 10 and on occasion would let one of us tag along with him.
After watching him take his bank deposit and get change for his cash register, we would usually end up at Betty’s Café where he would get a cup of coffee for himself and visit the locals while we sat side-by-side on the bar stools at the main countertop with my little legs dangling. I would get to select a snack, usually a peanut plank candy bar, and I felt special having one-on-one time with my Opa.
Of course, there were yummy candy bars and treats to be had at the grocery store. Several of my siblings recall when one amongst us would select a coin to spend on a piece of candy at the store. That sibling would enter through the back door of the store while one or two other siblings stood in line outside waiting. The first sibling picked out a candy, then handed the coin to our grandmother. After multiple hugs from Oma, she handed the coin back to the grandchild. Once that first child came back out the back door with her free candy, she would then hand the same coin to the next sibling in line and the scenario played over again until each in line got a free candy and hugs. We only did so when our grandmother was taking her shift at the store, because we knew she would always give the coin back. I’m not sure if Opa would have played along with our game. After all, he was a true businessman.
While still in pre-employment mode, I sometimes tagged along with my Opa as he delivered groceries directly to the homes of several customers who were no longer able to drive or walk to the store to pick out their own groceries. When I started working after school, I recall walking across the highway to deliver groceries to Selma Schmidt, the mother of Herbort Schmidt mentioned earlier.
While employed, I learned the gift of unconditional giving. I remember my grandfather sometimes held back older potatoes and other produce that would have been discarded soon and gave them to a customer who lived in the neighborhood. She was a single parent raising several children on her own. She was grateful for any free items he passed on to her.
One workday, I was standing behind the meat counter with Opa where we had a direct view of the candy bin. He told me he had seen a young boy place a few pieces of candy in his pocket. When the boy prepared to leave the store, he placed a piece of candy on the check-out counter and placed his money up there to pay. My grandfather, in a mild voice, asked the boy if he wanted to also pay for the candy he had in his pocket. The boy sheepishly pulled the candy out of his pocket and returned it to the bin. I felt embarrassed for the boy. However, the kind way my grandfather handled this situation was a life lesson for me and likely for the boy as well.
Several vendors delivered goods to the store. Mr. Shellhouse delivered fresh fryer chickens to the store weekly in wax-lined cardboard boxes. Customers were happy to drive out of their way to purchase fryers at Lange’s due to their freshness. I also remember when, as a young girl with a loose tooth, Mr. Shellhouse would pull his needle-nosed pliers out of his back pocket and offer to pull my tooth. I learned to fear that man.
We also received deliveries from soft drink vendors. Sometimes I worked shifts with one of my older sisters and witnessed some flirting between her and the Dr. Pepper guy. That always pepped things up at the store.
Grocery items purchased for resale were typically through National Grocer, whose warehouse was on the corner of Creek and Llano Streets.
One of our commercial customers was from a local nursing home. The owner’s sons typically picked up fryers to use for serving meals. There may have been a bit of flirting going on there too, but it was always good because it happened under the watchful eye of our grandparents.
I remember helping my grandfather with larger orders for fryers. We would set several fryers inside a cardboard lid and place the contents on the enamel meat scale, the type with the cylinder inside as the poundage numbers rolled by on the left and stopped on the poundage. We’d then look at the price per pound to determine cost. Every now and then my grandfather would tell me to put my finger on the scale with a little more pressure when weighing. I was in junior high, so I supposed the slight increase was to accommodate an extra 20 cents or so for processing fee of splitting the fryers in half.
My grandfather would order a side of beef he hung in the store’s walk-in cooler. He had the skill set to make cuts of meats such as steaks, roasts and meat that he ground to sell as hamburger meat. He also offered liver for sale. For years I thought folks purchased liver only to serve to their cats and was shocked when I found out some purchased the liver to eat for themselves.
Near the Christmas holidays, my grandfather had a large wooden barrel of fresh herring delivered, also placed in the walk-in cooler. When a customer requested herring, we would lift the wooden lid off the barrel and poke the lifeless herring with a stick, then place the fish onto waxed paper. The closer we got to the bottom of the barrel, the worse the stench. I couldn’t believe someone would eat something that smelled so bad — worse than liver.
In the 1970s, I worked at the store in my junior and senior high school days. I recall Opa having booklets of blank checks on a pad from one or two local banks. If a customer came in without their own personal check, they could use one of the complimentary blank checks to pay. The community was small enough, and banks with local employees knew most everyone, so were able to route the check to the customer’s bank account, seemingly only by identifying their customer by signature. Hard to imagine.
My grandfather had a large black, heavy cash register from National Cash Register Company. That register did not have the capability to calculate sales tax on items and because of that, when a customer brought their groceries to the counter, the employee would separate the taxable and non-taxable items. My grandparents had a separate adding machine, with buttons and a pull-down lever. We would punch in the price of each taxable item, get a subtotal and then look at a tax chart to determine how much tax to enter into the larger black cash register and then complete the transaction on the large register. Currently, taxable items are run though checkout stands without much thought by the customer which items are taxable or not.
My grandfather typed his weekly advertisement specials on an old manual typewriter. Then he placed his ad with the local newspaper office for publishing. The first item was usually the sales prices of the fryers as they were one of his bestselling items.
When I was in high school, I asked my grandfather if I could have some time off to help build a bonfire ahead of a rivalry football game. Opa told me I could not take off because he needed help labeling items for sale. I couldn’t believe it. My own grandfather not allowing me time off for such an important event. But oh, what a lesson he taught me about employment responsibilities and work ethic.
I treasure the time I worked with my grandparents at their store. It was a unique situation to get to know them on a level most children don’t get to experience.
My grandparents demonstrated how they honored customers and established business relationships until they closed the doors and retired a year before my graduation from Fredericksburg High School in 1978.
