THE CONFECTIONARIES OF DOGTOWN: LYNN'S FOOD SHOP

It was owned by Lynn and Jane Hobbs and they had a son Johnny. It was a haven for Dewey school students who would go there on their lunch hour for soda and penny candy. They were such a nice couple. Lynn especially had such patience when we'd come in and stand at his candy counter trying to decide what to buy with our dime. I know the store had previous owners but I can't remember who they were. I went to Dewey from 1951-1959 and they owned it during this time. My brother and I were discussing Lynn's the other night on the phone so I'm sure he'll have something to add.
Ginny Yale

Lynn's, as my sister Virginia wrote, was operated by husband and wife team Lynn and Jane Hobbs. They stocked bread, milk, soda, candy, meats, etc. It was at the crest of the hill on the northeast corner of Central and Wise Avenues. The building was dark brick, two stories high, and the store composed the first floor, while there was an apartment and separate entrance on the Wise Avenue side. There were a couple of stairs at the residence doorway which was a convenient and shady place for kids to hang out and drink sodas or enjoy the summer special: snow cones.

Lynn's was the hub for neighborhood gossip, for Dewey kids who couldn't stomach the nasty cafeteria food, for adults who were a little short and needed some credit, and the place where kids would run a quick shopping errand for a parent. I can remember being just a tyke, but because Lynn and Jane knew me, they had no reason not to send me back home to Dad at 6723 Wise with a pack of Camels, which were 25-cents! Such change in the times: today they'd be jailed.

The Hobbs' originally lived in Maplewood and commuted to the store, but later I think, moved into the upstairs apartment.

Lynn Hobbs suffered horribly from arthritis, was stooped and walked with a cane. He must have spent time in a wheelchair, too, for his biceps and upper torso were greatly developed and he was as strong as an ox. He used to amaze us by arm-wrestling the older kids, easily pinning scrawny young arms to the counter.

We knew spring had officially arrived when Lynn would set up a big professional, stainless-steel ice crusher in front of the window which looked out on Wise. He'd work first with a pick, then load clear chunks of ice into its throat. He'd then use those huge Popeye-arms to operate a pusher, and the machine would groan and grind and spit ice into a lower compartment. The crushed ice would then be scooped into a paper cup, and one could select from about a score of flavored syrups to be poured over the ice. He could mix the syrups, too. Lynn would have earlier marked a few of the paper cups in the stack with an "X," which meant that if you were lucky enough to be the purchaser when the marked cup came up, it was free. Such a deal.

The snowcones were a dime.

While neither of us know exactly when they began to operate it, in the 50s and 60s Lynn's was certainly a big part of neighborhood life. Perhaps Leora or Bill Emmerich, who lived many, many years just down the hill on Wise would know when the Hobbs' began to operate it and when they gave it up.

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