"My dad retired and we moved to Maine, where we had a small general store in the town of North New Portland. We had a couple of gas pumps, a little deli and meat counter, canned goods, clothes, ammunition and oil. It was a true general store, as we were way out in the woods. We even had an old-fashioned kerosene pump. You had to crank it up and down by hand. Little old ladies would come in for milk and also bring in a gallon container to fill with kerosene for their heaters. The store was on the first floor, and the second and third floors were our living area. All our customers we knew on a first-name basis, they were all our friends and neighbors.

"When I went to school, I caught a bus early in the morning before the store opened, then in the afternoon when I got off the bus, I would sit behind the counter working on homework, and when customers would come in, I would help them with whatever they needed.

"I worked seven days a week for my first two or three years of high school. I did everything-from stocking shelves, pumping gas and kerosene, to working the cash register and the meat slicer.

"The best part? I think I got all the Cokes and pastry cakes I could eat. My job didn't pay well; it was far less than minimum wage-but it was a family business. We survived out of the store; we ate out of the store. When it was dinner time, my mom would walk through the store and get dinner.

"In the winter it was not uncommon to have four to six feet of snow. Customers would come in to get groceries on snowshoes or snowmobiles before the snow plows cleared the roads. Even when we were snowed in, all we had to do was walk downstairs to be at work."

-Interviewed by Katie S. Betz