When I was about 8 years old. We rented a house from the owners of an Antique store on the corner of Sitka street and State Avenue. I remember running behind my momma, trying to keep up with her. We walked about a mile, maybe a little less. I was a little boy you know. We walked into Kaija’s feed and walked out with a box full of baby chicks! I didn’t know what would become of those chicks at the end of the summer. Didn’t care right then. If momma told me we were going to eat them, I would have said, “Naw mom, your joshin me.”
All summer, those little chicks grew up in our backyard. Every morning and evening, I’d scatter feed across the grass and watch them rush in, pecking excitedly at their meal. Sometimes I’d sit and count them as they scratched and clucked, each one developing its own personality—the brave, the curious, the shy. Taking care of them was my daily chore, but it never felt like work. It was just part of what family did together, turning ordinary days into lasting memories. By late August, those fluffy chicks had become big and fat, well-fed from the grain and scraps I’d tossed to them with pride.
We ate those chickens. At the end of summer, we chopped off their heads and hung em’ upside down. We dipped them in hot water to help get the feathers out. It was hard work and we did it. No questions or whining about it.
Kaija’s feed, Garden and Pet is still there. Since 1947. The shop at 623 NW State Ave was—and still is—a friendly local spot to buy feed, baby chicks, pet supplies, and garden essentials.
I have driven by there, and the house at 915 Sitka Street is gone.
So is the antique store.
A Fire station is across the street.
By
