Life in a small town is all about community, and NOWHERE has the communal spirit thrived over the last few decades quite like the Convenience Mart. Read on to learn more about a place that filled my childhood head with wonder, laughter, and redefined what “family” means.
Terry Henry doing coin tricks? Bobby Phipps sipping coffee wearing his signature
smile? Mike Todd greeting you with a heartfelt question about your life?
I experienced all of the above at the Convenience Mart as a child and each memory is precious to me.
To outsiders, “Con-mart” seemed like your typical roadside catch-all, but that would be missing what makes it magical.
For what felt like a lifetime, owners Mike and Becky Todd sold gasoline, snacks, and a mean cheeseburger, but even more importantly, they traded in community.
Familiar faces lined the bar.
Jokes, old and new, were shared freely.
The person to your right and the one to your left, knew what car you drove, where
your little brother went to college, and what soda you preferred (it probably wasn’t
Sundrop).
Community. Real community.
Illnesses and deaths were mourned collectively.
Triumphs celebrated communally.
Stories were told. Then retold. Then exaggerated. Then told again.
Life moved slowly, with reverence for days gone by and people whose absence was
felt in a way no one dared say.
The place was special, almost sacred.
It was like a second home.
A space where life in a mountain town could be shared, where “family” meant more than blood.
Here, a beautiful, authentic community was experienced one conversation at a time.
And though the Convenience Mart has changed hands, if you pull up a stool and
listen closely, you might find some of the magic remains.