Roseberry General Store a Time Warp to 1905

By:

Dina Mishev [1]

Road Journals Blog—Bushy-browed and tight-lipped—as in not the slightest twitch of a grin—Mr. McDougal welcomed me to the Roseberry General Store [2]—but only after I pushed a button that said “History.”

Mr. McDougal, once the proprietor of this turn-of-the-century store, is now commemorated as an animatronic mannequin, tells stories of the store’s early days in Roseberry, Idaho.

A rainbow of color emanated from the products, both vintage and modern, lining the store’s shelves from floor to ceiling. Roseberry General immediately struck me as a place worth exploring simply for the step back in time it offers.

[3]

Roseberry General Store | Jennifer Eld

[4]

Mr. McDougal keeps a close eye on his wares. | Jennifer Eld

In 1911, Roseberry was the largest town in Long Valley [5], and thrived until 1914 when the railroad opted to run tracks through nearby Donnelly instead of Roseberry. That effectively ended the town’s prosperity. Still, it could have been worse; some neighboring towns ended up underwater when Lake Cascade [6] was dammed in 1948.

While the store is fun to explore for gifts and souvenirs, the upstairs takes on a museum quality, harking back to when pioneers homesteaded the area. A display of bygone guns—a French 1763 Musket with bayonet, a light cavalry sword and sabre, and fast-draw guns (think six-shooters)—fill a glass case.

There’s a vintage collection of horse and cattle apparatuses once used by a rancher or veterinarian. Some of the large, sharp items made me cringe, like the fetotome used to dismember calves that were too big inside their mothers. C-section anyone?

Out back, renovated, and staged cabins provide a peephole into the lives of the Finnish pioneers who settled the area. These include a blacksmith shop, a one-room schoolhouse and, of all things, a bachelor pad. (It was sparse and smacked with minimalism; all the living took place in one room, where both dining and sleep happened within feet of each other. A few tools, dishes, and some long-handled underwear (long underwear with a flap in back) were the only “clutter.” A far cry from the bachelor pads of today.

I watched a handful of a Lycra-skinned cyclists whiz by the open fields along the outstretched roads. Renovation was happening on the town’s original white-steeple church across the street; next to it was a small museum with the likes of old photographs, a typical pioneer kitchen, an old printing press, among other artifacts.

Down the block was an antique store. Roseberry might not be the thriving town it once was, but it’s a great place to turn for a reminder of simpler and more difficult times.

Dina Mishev wrote about the Roseberry General Store for the May/June issue of VIA [7].

This blog post was first published in June 2011. Some facts may have aged gracelessly. Please call ahead to verify information.