Stan

I will let Ann and members of her family comment on this picture, because I'm not sure about the background.

During my high school years, I remember a number of things about Ann's dad. He always had respect for his customers, regardless how old they were.

I remember buying The White Album by the Beatles, and after taking it home to play it, the vinyl did not lay flat on the turntable, so on each revolution the arm would skip. It was traumatic for me, because I wanted a copy that would play.

After driving to the store on South Main, I found Stan at the cash register. I was nervous, but after only beginning to tell him about the problem with the record, he hit a key on the register and handed me my refund. It shocked me, not because it wasn't the way he should have reacted, but I was just a teen. In the late 80's, I saw a young student about 17 or 18 report a problem with a CD in Fred Meyer, and they refused to honor it. He always treated me well.

My memories of him began early. My mom would give me 5 cents for a doughnut. Stan had the best ones in town, and he was able to get them from a bakery in Preston. Even after Ann and I married, he still could get those from Preston. By the time I was in my twenties, the favorite became a doughnut that had a caramel taste in the frosting along with the milk chocolate.