And competing. And forcing me to spew words from my mouth. But mostly, thank you to all the readers for sticking with me all this time! Author’s Note Trenton, MO, is a real town in northern Missouri. With a population of 6,037, it’s actually quite large compared to the number of very small towns surrounding it. My parents, though both born elsewhere, ended up in Trenton where they attended school, met, and fell in love. Both sets of my grandparents lived in Trenton, literally around the corner from each other, and we spent our visits walking back and forth between the two grandmas’ houses. While many of the businesses mentioned in this story no longer exist, they are the places from some of my favorite childhood memories. I loved crossing the wooden bridge spanning the railroad, the Funny Farm was always on our want-to-do list, we walked to Crooks’ General Store all the time for penny candy, and had real sodas and malts at Fair Drugstore. Howard’s is still in business, and my mom still shops there whenever we visit her stepmom, my ninety-four-year-old Grandma Ollie.
