What Happened to the Five-and-Dime Store?

You walked in and the floor creaked

[music] in certain spots you learned to

expect near the candy counter by the

stationary aisle right past the parakeet

cages. The air smelled like popcorn from

the machine in the front mixed with

something harder to name, wood polish,

or the faint mustustininess of cardboard

boxes stacked in the back. The aisles

were narrow, lined with wooden shelves

and glass cases, and the merchandise sat

close enough that you had to turn

sideways if someone was coming the other

way. This was the five and dime

Woolworths, Ben Franklin, Kresky's,

McCroy's.

Every town had one, and they all felt

similar. The layout wasn't flashy. It

was practical. Housewares in one

section, toys in another, stationery,

hardware, sewing notions, pet supplies,

all of it under one roof, arranged by

type rather than brand. You visited

because it was fun to look around. Even

if you didn't buy something, you wanted

to window shop. It seemed like they had

everything. Dish towels folded next to

goldfish bowls, spools of thread in a

wooden cabinet with tiny drawers, combs,

hair rollers, [music] handkerchiefs,

notebooks, pencils, erasers with the

price stamped right on the wrapper. A

wall of greeting cards you could flip

through one by one. Garden gloves,

hammers, yo-yos, Halloween masks in

October, Valentine cards in February.

Everything marked with a little paper

tag tied on with string. The prices were

low, a comb for a dime, a notebook for

15 cents, socks for a quarter. If you

were a kid, you could walk in with a

dollar [music] and come out with a comic

book, a balsa wood glider, a pack of

baseball cards, and a candy bar, and

still have change left over. You loved

the feeling of independence making the

purchase yourself and it was fun to go

with your parents for a special trip

sometimes, too. It wasn't that the

merchandise was expensive elsewhere. It

was that here it was accessible. You

could visit frequently and make small

purchases. It was a place you could stop

into on your way home without planning

ahead. The clerk stood behind counters

instead of throughout the store. if you

wanted something from the jewelry case

or the stationary section you asked and

they'd unlock it, wrap it in brown

paper, write a ticket, and send you up

front to pay. It took longer than just

grabbing something off a shelf, but it

also meant someone was there. Sometimes

it seemed like the same employees worked

there for years, and they remembered

your favorite parts of the store to

visit and your name. Many of the five

and dimes had lunch counters. You'd sit

on a round vinyl stool, spin it once or

twice if no one was looking, and order a

grilled cheese or a piece of pie. The

cook worked a flat top grill behind the

counter where you could watch. Coffee

was a dime. Pie was 35. [music] It

wasn't fancy, but it turned a shopping

trip into something more. You'd see

neighbors. You'd rest for a few minutes.

The counter made the store feel less

like an errand and more like a special

moment in time. For decades, from the

[music] 1930s into the early 1960s, this

was how much of America shopped. The

business itself was straightforward.

Five and dimes bought in volume and sold

at low margins. They made money by

moving thousands of small items to

thousands of people every week. The

goods were simple. Most of them made in

American factories that could produce

everyday products at scale. A glass

tumbler from Ohio. A wooden toy from

Pennsylvania. Thread from North

Carolina. The supply chain was short.

The costs were manageable. And because

the stores were on Main Street where

people already walked, foot traffic was

always nearby. But that arrangement

depended on certain [music] things

staying in place, including rent on a

downtown storefront. It also depended on

wages for clerks who worked the

counters. It also depended on a supply

of Americanmade goods [music] that could

be sold cheaply and still turn a profit.

By the 1960s, those pieces were all

starting to shift. Wages were rising.

Downtown rents were climbing. At the

same time, a different kind of store was

opening on the edge of town. Big flat

roof buildings on cheap land surrounded

by parking lots. Kmart, Walmart, Target.

They put everything on open shelves and

let you pick it out yourself. You

carried your items to the checkout area,

paid and left. Because the stores were

larger and built where land was cheaper,

they could sell the same items for less.

They ordered in massive volume which

gave them leverage with manufacturers

and increasingly the products they

stocked weren't coming from American

factories. By the 1970s and 80s many

everyday items were being made overseas

for a fraction of what domestic

production cost. The five and dime

couldn't match that. Their entire model

had been built around reasonable margins

on Americanmade goods sold in small

quantities from expensive storefronts.

When the cost of goods dropped elsewhere

and rent stayed high downtown, the

numbers stopped working. Customers

noticed, though not all at once. You

might still stop at Woolworths for lunch

or to pick up a birthday card or because

it was familiar, but when you needed

cleaning supplies or school notebooks or

anything you were buying more than one

of, you started driving to the discount

store. It wasn't that the five and dime

had gotten worse. It was that the

alternative was cheaper. And for most

families, [music] that mattered. The

shift also reflected a change in how

people moved through their weeks. Five

and dimes had thrived in an era of

afternoons spent walking downtown to run

errands and of stopping in two or three

times a week to pick up small things.

But by the 1970s, most households had

cars and shopping patterns had adjusted.

Instead of browsing, people stocked up.

Instead of small trips, they made one

big one. The five and dimes layout,

compact, personal, built for variety,

didn't fit that rhythm anymore.

Woolworths tried to adapt. They opened

bigger stores. They experimented with

different formats. But the core

challenge remained. Their costs were

higher. Their merchandise was pricier.

And the reasons people had once chosen

them, the location, the familiarity, the

service, weren't enough to offset the

difference in price.

By the 1980s, the closures began in

earnest. Stores that had been open for

50 years shut their doors. Lunch

counters were dismantled. Display cases

were cleared out. The parakeetses

disappeared. Some buildings were

converted into other businesses. Others

sat empty. The wooden floors still

creaking when someone walked through to

check the property. Woolworths closed

its last five and dime in the United

States in 1997.

A few smaller regional chains held on a

little longer, but the era had ended.

They were replaced by discount stores

that offered lower prices [music] and

more selection, but they didn't offer

the same kind of place. You didn't know

the people working there. You didn't

stop for lunch. The transaction was

efficient, but it wasn't woven into the

fabric of your day the same way. The

discount chains also made everyday goods

accessible and affordable. They just did

it under different conditions in

different buildings at a different pace.

The mechanics changed, the experience

changed, but you could still get what

you needed without spending more than

you had to. If this brought back

memories for you, the smell of the

popcorn, the weight of the paper bag,

the clerk who knew where the birthday

candles were kept. Please like this

video. Subscribe if you like more of

these quiet looks at how ordinary things

gradually changed. And if your five and

dime was different, or if there's

something you remember that I didn't

mention, leave a comment. I'd like to

hear it. The five and dime vanished

because the world it had been built for

changed. The streets, the cost, the

goods, the way people shopped and

traveled, all of it shifted and the

stores couldn't shift with it.

Understanding that doesn't change the

memories. Those are yours to keep.