Mom & Pop Hardware
By Beth DeCarbo —
This memoir of growing up between two side-by-side Kansas hardware stores is a tribute to hardware retailers’ grit and grace. This excerpt was adapted from the book exclusively for readers of Hardware Connection.
I was in the second grade in 1972, the year my mother entered the hardware business. She didn’t know a whit about hinges or toggle bolts or plumber’s putty. But it was obvious to her that my father’s junkyard alone couldn’t support our family of six.
So when an old-fashioned hardware store came on the market in McPherson, Kansas, our small farming community of roughly 10,000 souls, my parents decided to buy it. They named it B&G Hardware after themselves: Betty and Gene Copeland. But not long after the store was up and running on Main Street, Betty cut Gene out of the name entirely, telling people that B&G stood for “Betty and God.” The store, my mother decided, would be hers alone.
The most memorable feature of B&G Hardware was the antique oak cabinetry. Housewares and small appliances were arranged on bookcase-style shelving. Other merchandise was displayed in tall cases with glass doors and wooden drawers. Lengths of sisal rope were unspooled from the ceiling and cut with a pocketknife. Nails were raked from bins using a metal claw and weighed on a scale.
In 1974, the building next door to my mother’s came up for sale. The structure, a former auto dealership, was much larger than my father’s junkyard, fueling his ambitions to scrap the salvage business and expand.
Dad organized his store into three main sections. The front primarily carried tools and paint supplies, with an auto parts counter on the side. The middle part, the bolt room, held practically every type of fastener imaginable. In back was a full-service metal-fabrication shop.
Even though Mom and Dad carried much of the same merchandise, the stores were markedly different. Copeland Supply was both bigger and busier, serving mainly farmers, oilfield workers and those with jobs in manufacturing. Dad’s greatest gift was that he knew how to fix just about anything. When a customer faced a complicated repair or project, Dad diagrammed the solution on the back of a paper sack, then filled it with the necessary parts or fittings the customer needed to buy.
Mom’s store served mainly homeowners and hobbyists. The pace was slower, the mood set by elevator music on the local radio station. Next to the cash register was a candy case, where customers often lingered to buy a chocolate confection and chat.
Each store was independently run. For one thing, my mom charged higher prices, even when the same thing could be purchased for less money from my dad. That embarrassed me sometimes, but Mom made it clear, saying, “Never apologize for the prices.” Also, Mom didn’t accept credit cards because she didn’t want to pay any credit-card company fees. And only certain customers were allowed to open an in-house charge account, which lowered the risk of losing money when someone couldn’t pay their bills.
