Monday, August 19, 2013

Grocery Alternatives: Kroger's in Athens OH

You've probably heard the news by now: The only grocery store in the county I live in, Vinton County, Ohio, is closing.  Several years ago, I decided to buy all of my groceries at this local store, McArthur SuperValu. I felt that if people--meaning me--didn't support the store it would not survive. And now this has come to pass. I have been surprised by how disturbing the loss of my local store is to me.

For several years, I have not shopped for groceries anywhere else.  My choices were a bit restricted, but my needs for basic food and nutrition were met. I never went farther than a mile from my house for groceries. When gas prices went up, my friend Linda joined me in this decision. We shopped together almost every Saturday morning at the SuperValu. (I don't know why we always called it "the" SuperValu, but we did.)

Last Saturday, Linda and I were both hesitant to go for groceries at the SuperValu. What would it be like in there? Would we find what we needed? And, where would we go the next week? Where was my food going to come from?

The store was clean and bright. All merchandise was neatly fronted. But many of the shelves were bare. Almost all perishables were gone--no bread or meat at all. To see the meat cases shiny and empty was the biggest shock. It just looked wrong. The soon-to-be-unemployees put on brave faces. I held back tears the whole time I was in the store.

That evening, we decided to go over to Athens for a nice meal out. I know I felt like I needed something to lift my spirits. And, of course, we drove right past Kroger's. We yes-no-yessed about stopping in, and finally did. I was astounded. I felt like Dorothy stepping out of my shabby hovel into rich, colorful, sensory-overloaded Oz. The lighting was beautiful. The produce area stretched for miles, it seemed, looking more like a landscape than a storescape. My eyes didn't know how to focus on this wonderland.

My first thought was, "oh, this is where the rich people shop." So much opulence, such care in the presentation of the food and merchandise, and so much selection, infinite selection. Forty kinds of bread. Forty different brands of frozen pizza. A great wall of China of breakfast cereal. All beautiful. All so conveniently arranged. I ran into things (and people) with my cart...I couldn't take it all in.

It's always disorienting to go to a different grocery store. Products all seem to be in the wrong places. I backtrack to find stuff I missed. I soldier bravely through aisle after aisle looking valiantly for...well, in this case it was electrical tape. I braved this extravagant world for prosaic old electrical tape.

The absurdity of it all overwhelmed me. Is all this luxury necessary to the procurement of food? What part did the pampering of the patrons play in their affection for the store? Back home in McArthur, it was my affection for my friends and neighbors that made the SuperValu so attractive, not displays of wealth (food IS wealth). How many choices of cream cheese does one really need? And, does it really matter? If people want sun-dried tomato pesto cream cheese, why shouldn't they have it?

I felt I had strayed into another world, to another planet. And I had. I had somehow landed in middle class land, from which I had banished myself so many years ago. And now I'm back. Soon, I will be inured to the choices and style, the delectability. I will think this is normal. I will stop thinking there's something wrong with this system that leaves poor people foodless while others wallow in excess. I'll forget how privileged I am to have a reasonably OK income (from three jobs) and a functioning car and gas money to travel 30 miles to get groceries. I'll start going to the post office and farmer's market somewhere else.

A lot of the life is leaving my community with the SuperValu. My sadness is like background music of cello, low and profound. A small town is a fragile place, always threatening to shimmer out of existence, out of reality. Ghosts and shadows all that remain. I hope that whatever entity moves into SuperValu's building will help hold us together. But Oz beckons. No Auntie Em remains back here to lure me home.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Super Value Closes: Sad Farewell

The News. The news popped up on my Facebook feed at about 2:30 p.m. today--the grocery store in my county, Vinton County, Ohio, is closing its doors. Reactions and reactionaries weighed in on news reports and posts about the shuttering of Super Value. Anger. Hostility. Shock. Sadness. Bewilderment. Fear. Will another store open? What will happen to our community if we have to have a reliable car and gas money to go get bread and milk to avoid paying inflated prices at a convenience store? What will happen to our community if fresh fruit, meat, and vegetables are no longer available? If we go to another community for groceries, will we neglect other local services and institutions?

Food Desert. There's a concept in public health called the urban food desert. These are areas in cities that have no access to a traditional grocery store. In these areas, the poorest people end up paying a considerably higher proportion of their income for food than any other income group. They are left with convenience store prices and selections, paying a considerable health cost as well as taking the financial hit. Convenience store food tends toward the fatty, salty, and sugary. A pretty red apple may cost $2.50--the same price as four boxes of mac & cheese (one dessert versus four whole meals) for the same money. If you had a family to feed on limited funds, which would you choose? These are the facts of a food desert.

Profit Margin, Not Neighbor. Well, we are at risk of becoming our very own food desert. We've flocked to Walmart. Now it may be our only home. I have to say that if I was poor, I would move. I would move closer to a Walmart, frankly. That's where the food is, where it is massively subsidized by a hundred federal tax loopholes. Walmart and other big store chains care about your money, about the volume of customers they can process through a giant intestine of products. They will never care about you like Maryjane Ferguson and her employees have always cared about you. The clerk ringing you up at Walmart won't know your name and won't know that your mom is sick and that your sister just finished a semester at Rio Grande Community College. You are now a profit margin instead of a neighbor.

There are many other downsides to the closing of our local store. Several people are losing their jobs--and replacement jobs just don't exist around here. Property values will drop--would you happily move into a community with no grocery store? Poor people may have to depend more and more on institutions such as schools and food pantries for food.

Support Ferguson. I've been disturbed by Facebook posts that express anger and hostility at Ferguson for closing Super Value. Surely people have seen that the store is struggling to keep its shelves stocked, seen the efforts at new programs to bring customers into the store. Ferguson has been pouring her life's blood into the store to keep it going, especially since the bad storm in the summer of 2012 during which the store had no power and almost all of the inventory was lost.

Maryjane Ferguson is not a Walmart with massive financing and buying power behind her. She knows the impact of this closing and I know it is breaking her heart, as it breaks the hearts of all who know her and her family. Ferguson is just one woman who has been fighting valiantly against considerable odds. She's greeted each disastrous day with courage and an open heart. She's not responsible for a crappy economy, natural disasters, or the movement of local shoppers to a big box store.

I'm sure more news is yet to come. But I hope we remember how well Super Value has served our community, has been a meeting place, a caring place. Super Value is where you run into people from all parts of your life--people from work, from school, from church, from 4-H. We will never replace this.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Vinton County United Way Joins Chamber

A few weeks ago, I was assigned the task of signing up the United Way of Vinton County (UWVC) for membership in the Vinton County Chamber of Commerce.  The Chamber has a reputation for representing the best in our community—the best businesses, the best values, and the best attitudes—and the United Way is proud to participate.

One of the United Way’s goals for membership was to let more people know about our local United Way. We are small, but committed to sustaining the work of non-profits in our community. Recent recipients of funding include:

·         Shepherd’s House domestic violence shelter

·         Care Outreach food pantry

·         Truth food pantry

·         Sojourners Family Development foster care day camp

·         The American Red Cross of Athens County,  which serves Vinton County

·         Big Brothers/Big Sisters’ school mentoring program in Vinton County

·         Vinton County Senior Citizens

·         RSVP Vinton County activities

·         Last summer’s summer feeding program administered by Sojourners

UWVC’s board of directors is committed to investing its money in Vinton County. We keep our overhead costs low (we don’t even have a physical location), paying less than 3% of our earnings in administrative costs. Our income arrives, for the most part, from outside the county. UWVC’s main goal is to change the ratio of where the money comes from to reflect stronger support from the county for the county. Toward that end, we have successfully signed up many county employees and school employees to contribute through payroll deduction.
The decisions about who will receive the $18,000 in investments UWVC made this year involved many tough decisions for the board of directors. They received nine excellently prepared proposals and worked with thoughtful consideration.


The investment committee works with Maslow’s Hierarchy in mind. Maslow devised a pyramid of human needs, with the most basic needs—food, shelter, clothing, safety—on the bottom. He said that unless the needs at the bottom are met, a person (or community) cannot move up to the next level (which might include education, meaningful work, and so on). UWVC invests mostly in that bottom level of Maslow’s pyramid. Our people need food and shelter and safety—especially the youngest and oldest among us. When we funded school mentoring last year, we were aware that for the first time in a long time we were investing in a “next level up” activity.
If you are interested in the work of the United Way of Vinton County, please give me a call at 740-591-6279. I’d be glad to talk with you about our investment priorities, how to make a donation, or how to set up payroll deduction so your employees may contribute that way if they wish—at our suggested pledge level of $1.00 per week. A dollar at time is how we’ll make a difference.