My grandparents were among the immigrants who came to this country in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century's from Austria-Hungary. They settled in the Midwest in a small industrial town, in the east end of town, with other immigrants. I came along as the second generation American born part of the family.

I loved my grandmother and used to love staying overnight whenever I could. On my grandma's street was a butcher shop which we would seem to visit each time I was there. Everybody spoke German except not to me. I remember fondly that the butcher would give me a hot dog. It was great, they were great in my remembrances.

Meat markets were a very forties thing, and are still around here and there, but have mostly evolved into supermarkets as we all know.