Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
If you are my age or older and grew up in rural Roosevelt County, I’ll venture a bet that you spent at least a nickel or a dime — maybe even a quarter or a dollar — at some point in your youth in Dollie Gordon’s store across the road from the Floyd schools.
To say that Dollie Gordon was a pillar of the Floyd community is an understatement.
In the 70-page index of the community history book, “Floyd: One Hundred Years,” there are few names with more page number references than hers.
Her story is worth remembering.
My handful of encounters with Dollie Gordon (never Dollie … never Mrs. Gordon … always Dollie Gordon) happened when I was in junior high and early high school.
When we Dora kids went to Floyd for a volleyball or basketball game, one of the traditions was racing across the road to Dollie Gordon’s store.
We entered, I’m sure, like a pack of hungry wolves, and Dollie Gordon sold us obscene amounts of sugar in the form of sodas and candy bars. (Sports nutrition had yet to be discovered.)
If she were a little grumpy — which is how I remember her — I learned from reading her story in the Floyd history book that she had good reason to be that way. Her life was not an easy one.
Dollie Sarah Jones Gordon was born in 1905 in a dugout 2 1/2 miles from Floyd to Izale and Hettie Jones, homesteaders who claimed that spot in 1903.
Like her brother, Foy Jones, she “almost” graduated from Floyd High School. Floyd wasn’t yet accredited in the 1920s, so both siblings made the drive to Portales High School for the last few weeks of their senior years so they could get diplomas from an accredited institution.
Both also became educators (Foy returned to teach for decades in the Floyd schools), but Dollie ended her teaching career in 1934 when she married Grant Gordon, the proprietor of the Gordon Store in Floyd.
Grant was a widower when he married Dollie in 1934. He had a 7-year-old daughter and a 2-year-old son — his first wife, Beryl Watson, had died in childbirth as their son was born.
The country was smack dab in the middle of the Great Depression, but even tougher times were ahead for this new family. Only a year and a half after they exchanged vows, Grant came down with pneumonia and died. Dollie was two months pregnant.
“Grant’s death left Dollie a fulltime mother of three children and operator of the Gordon Store in Floyd,” according to the Floyd history book.
I don’t know how soon the community started calling that business “Dollie Gordon’s store,” but that’s the only name I ever heard it called.
By May of 1936 — only a few days before her son was born — Dollie Gordon added the official title of “postmaster” to her resume as well.
On the day that she should have been celebrating her second wedding anniversary, Dollie Gordon was, instead, a young window giving birth to a baby boy to join his 4- and 9-year-old step siblings.
For many years, Dollie Gordon’s store not only housed the post office, but also the only telephone in the community (the ring was “two longs and a short,” old timers remembered), making her the official messenger for her town and the surrounding farms and ranches.
When Dollie Gordon died in 1990, here are a few of the things (besides raising three children alone during the Depression) for which she was remembered:
• She ran her store, almost singlehandedly until 1977
• She was postmistress of her community for 40 years
• She once housed 39 folks who were stranded overnight in Floyd during foul weather
• She was instrumental in pushing legislation to get “water works” for the Floyd community
• She opened the doors each Sunday at the Floyd Methodist Church and lit the fire there during chilly weather
• She kept “immaculate records” for decades for the Floyd Cemetery Association
On top of that, she is mentioned in numerous family accounts in the Floyd history book.
“My mother always said (Dollie Gordon) was a leader, a good business lady and one who would always help if there was a need,” Velma Dodgin Evans wrote.
“I believe that Dollie helped raise every child in the community,” Sue Gossett Borden wrote.
Borden recalled many details of the old store — gone now, but originally located west of the current Floyd Senior Citizens Center: “the potbelly stove where everyone gathered to get warm in the winter; the coke box where chilled water kept the cokes cool; the glass candy case; the ice cream box where on summer days an ice cream sandwich was a special treat.
“A trip to the store was a daily event for those who were old enough to cross the highway during lunch period at school,” Borden wrote. “Every child looked forward to the time when they could finally make the trip.”
A tip of my hat this week to the Dollie Gordons of our world — the occasionally grumpy backbones of our rural communities.
Where would we be without them?
Betty Williamson is dreaming of nickel candy bars and potbelly stoves. Reach her at:
