by Janicegail Slone

Created on: June 11, 2007

The Rag Store is one of my favorite childhood memories.

Possibly you've heard the terms, second time around, hidden treasures, the trading post, from trash to treasures, the good will, the second hand store, twice best, and the Salvation Army. In my child hood days those were names I was not familiar with. However, from as early as I can remember, I knew about the "Rag Store." The "Rag Store" was in a little town called Frenchburg, about ten miles from our home, a small white block building, unassuming in appearance, yet within its confines lay hidden treasurers our entire family delighted in. It was owned by the Presbyterian church, who used the proceeds from their sales to aid in the church's missionary projects. It was an exciting event to go to the "Rag Store," especially if you went the day the big truck brought in those wonderful rich folk clothes, as we called them, from other states. One could go any day of the week, but the day the truck came was the most rewarding.

As very young child, I remember how exciting it was to plan for a "Rag Store" outing, though sometimes my plans were altered. My mother was the only woman in our little community that could drive in the early fifties, and if word got out, that "Gladys Back" was going to French burg to the "Rag Store" particularly on truck day, as we called it, then my little sister and I would stay with our grandmother as the car would be loaded with the neighbor ladies. Women would arrive at the store before the doors were opened, and would stand in long lines in all types of weather in anticipation of all those wonderful treasurers that awaited them. The lines would remind you of people today waiting for concert tickets of their favorite singing star. Once the doors were opened, the women would push and shove and snatch and grab, and hang on tightly to their rich treasures. My mother had a keen eye for luxurious material, pretty buttons, zippers that worked and even delicate trims. The size of the garment wasn't as important to her, as the quality of the material. Since Mother was an excellent seamstress, and was delighted if the skirt of the garment contained lots of material, such as a gathered or circle skirt. This meant more material to work with. She could get my sister or me a wonderful dress, jumper, suit, or whatever the garment dictated. There were those times she just bought a nickle or dime item for the beautiful buttons, or anything that could be used to enhance a new creation she was designing.

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