Editor’s note: We are excited to announce this new monthly column by Francie Hansen.
By Francie Hansen, Journal contributor
If you’re looking for gloom and doom or fear and anger, read no further. I’m Francie Hansen, I don’t do screen, or social media, and I never order from Amazon. I don’t Google, have a TV, I call reading my emails, which I call getting on the machine, which I do every six weeks, only three of which pertain to me personally. Most are trash. I am happy. This article and those that follow will be my way of sharing joy by putting my body in a new situation and sharing that slice of life that is unusual alive and wonderful on our terrific island. I should clarify that things go on every day, that are very emotional, and positive. But we can’t be everywhere.
Monday, the tune is playing at 6:30 a.m. at the Little Store. As I enter just past Julie Caddil, the manager, who is chatting with Justin, in construction, and his partner Don is at the gas pumps. Justin is planning to help repair a panel in the ceiling above the coffee machine.
Julie says so much networking happens here. Housing needs, work, it’s all word of mouth. So I wandered into the Little Store, and I started watching and listening. This idea began on a cold morning when I couldn’t get a ferry reservation for the 8:05 a.m. I got up early and waited from 6:15 a.m. (Yes, I got on). I didn’t want to wait in my car. I wandered up into the Little Store, and I said, “It’s cold outside. I’m going to drink my coffee,” which, of course, I purchased there, and I decided to stay warm and comfortable and loiter. That’s when I decided to write this article and return to really see if the warm welcome atmosphere was a one-time thing or the way of doing business open to everyone. Let me count the ways:
Almost everyone who walked in held the door for the person leaving or following them.
I heard more “Thank you” and “God Bless You” for sneezes and “Have a nice day” from strangers just passing through.
One woman bought three breakfast sandwiches and bought an extra to pay it forward, telling the cashier.
The music changed to love me too.
I spoke with another employee, Shelby, who proudly told me that the Little Store was his first job in high school. He was 39 years old. He went to California and worked for Dina Computers and became a certified computer tech but needed to come back to the heart and soul of the island and feel a positive energy.
“It’s not bougie or high-end. It’s like ‘Cheers.’ We anticipate what each customer wants – breakfast sandwich, pack of Marlboro lights,” he said, noting to a big fellow, “You got the last one with jalapenos.“
He told me basically there is a core group that comes year-round. Some come two or three times a day. They don’t just wait on people.
“We’re a family,” Julie said. “It starts with the owners, Susan and Bob Windgate
Julie and Bob worked Christmases for many, many years and got to spread the love to everyone. All the employees said, “They treat us well. I guess it’s called pass it on and pay it forward.”
One woman came in after having suffered a traumatic situation. “I just knew you would be here,” she told Julie.
Julie said, “You know I will be taking this secret to my grave.”
The high school and middle school kids who come in are so polite. If someone ever starts to curse, we say we don’t like it, we don’t talk like that. Here is the real hub of the town. A buzzer goes off if someone new walks in. “How’s my Dirk? How’s my Rocky?
Next song that comes on is “Cry if You Want To,” then “Run Run Run Away.”
I don’t think any wants to cry if they want to or run run run away from the Little Store. My last visit confirm facts for this article; a customer comped my coffee. An unbelievable jewel we have in Friday Harbor.
