HAWKINS BAKERY

I'm not sure why one bakery has held such a fond memory of my youth. It wasn't even close to being the best bakery in town. It was one of several. It had no appeal as to my sweet tooth either.

It was Hawkins Bakery, located just down the street from the Fire Dept. For some reason several of my high school friends and I would go to the bakery on Friday or Saturday nights and for one quarter we would buy a small loaf of fresh, hot baked bread.

Normally we wouldn't go to the back door before 11:00 PM or so. We'd get our bread, not even sliced, and walk home from the Sub. The Sub was a teen hangout where records were played, plans were made, stories were embellished, friendships were made or broken, and dates were taken. Some danced, but most just hung out.

But Hawkins Bakery was the last call to at least two of my teenage years. When Rich Archer and I would walk home after our night at the sub, we would eat the hollowed out bread as it was. That is, no butter or jelly. That might serve as breakfast the next morning around 9 or 10 AM, but that night it was warm bread and night air.

I don't know why we ever started doing that or why we ever quit. But it was great. I can almost smell the bread as I reflect.