We stopped through here many times to pick up fresh fruit on our way to that dumpy little cottage at Lake George (Lake George doesnt even rate a place setting here, and I’m much too lazy to start one). We went there on vacation for most of the early to mid 1970’s.
This was my only “shop-lifting” incident of my life. I ate a cherry here, and my dad saw me. In his simplistic way, he set me straight. I’ve never shop-lifted, nor had the desire to since.