One of the fondest memories I have as a young child was visiting the corner store a few blocks away from my grandparents’ house in Iron Mountain, Michigan. My brother, sister and I would walk down the tree-lined street to the store without our parents, exploring the neighborhood and feeling cool and independent in search of an ice cream cone or an ice-cold Coke. The store was on the first floor of a Victorian house on the corner of two residential streets with a front stoop, a couple signs dangling down and an apartment upstairs. Everyone walked to the corner store except for a couple of people who drove up and parked out front to grab a loaf of … Continue reading