There are places I remember

This was the place: Shavertown, PA

I had a paper route starting in 5th grade. I only delivered about 22 papers six days a week, but they were to houses fairly well spread apart. After school, it would take me about an hour and a half to finish, with another 15-minute walk home.

Unless I stopped at McCrory's, which was a fairly common occurrence. This 5&10 was at the end of a shopping center that was a centerpiece of my family's life for around ten years. At one end there was an Acme, where we got the majority of our groceries. I still remember the average tally for the week coming to around $20, an astronomical figure in my head.

But it was McCrory's and their small but hugely influential record department that is still with me. They also had a soda fountain, where in the summertime heat I might stop for a 10-cent orangeade after my paper route. That dime though put a large dent in my 44-cents-a-day take home pay from my route (2 cents a paper).

Rather I tried hard to save my money for important purchases, such as a new baseball glove that was the first thing I ever really earned with my own money. And as important as that was, it probably didn't rate as highly as the 45s I bought at that record counter.

Shortly before I had my paper route, my mother gave me the 69 cents at McCrorys so that I could come home with this:

How I wish I still had the picture sleeve (I do, however, still have the record itself). This record was life-altering in so many ways. I played both sides nonstop for weeks. I stared at that photo for hours. I sang "I Saw Her Standing There," to my parents from the back seat on the way to the Acme.

Soon thereafter I was able to buy my records with my money -- the real start of my record addiction. For the next 5 years or so, I bought dozens of 45s there, and even a couple of albums -- at $2.99 they were harder to save up for.

One day, a new Beatles 45 appeared in the rack behind the register, and I had to have it. There was no clerk around, and I leaned, leaned, leaned over the counter to grab it. Just as the counter started to tilt over, the clerk came to the rescue, telling me to be patient.

How could I be patient in the face of this:

I still do have this sleeve, but the record is missing. If I only knew then what I know now.

McCrory's is no longer there, and so many other things from that time are also gone: my parents, many relatives, and even some friends. All now just memories.

But today, on the 52nd anniversary of The Beatles first appearing on the Ed Sullivan Show, I am reminded how one unassuming department store held so many treasures that also led to memories that will also never go away.