It began with two brothers. Nelson had one leg shorter than the other because of a black snake bite in childhood. Murrel, the slight, younger one, spent his nights in J.R. Free's country store in Nokesville shooting at robbers through the wooden door.
Nelson and Murrel Partlow's father died young and the pair learned to be industrious, and quick. Murrel bought a two-story building in Aldie in 1928 and moved into the apartment upstairs. The next spring, Willie Goode's country store across the street burned down and Murrel Partlow saw an opportunity.
"Dad asked him if he was going to rebuild, and he said he'd had enough of the grocery store business," said Murrel's son, Murrel Lee Partlow, as he sat in a rocking chair in his living room in Aldie, just feet from Rt. 50. Behind him, on the stone mantle, was a clock stuck at 8:59.
Murrel Lee Partlow was born the year before Goode's store burned, upstairs in the apartment above the store that became the new Partlow's Grocery — and, over 50 years later, the Aldie Country Store. His mother minded the store and kept him in a pasteboard box behind the counter. But there was more business to be done, and Nelson and Murrel Partlow bought the old Hutchison Bros. store in Ashburn in 1930 and renamed it Partlow Bros.
"I can remember Uncle Nellie saying he'd try anything once," Partlow said. After four years, however, one side of the Partlow family was ready to return to Aldie. Murrel Partlow sold his half of Partlow Bros. to Nelson Partlow, and on a snowy day, the family moved into the house next to the Aldie store. Murrel Lee Partlow still lives there today.
"I haven't gotten very far in life," he said with a laugh.
WHEN HIS FATHER sold him Partlow's Grocery in 1951, it was all full-service: Partlow and his wife Lillian stood behind a counter and fetched sugar, fruit or the store's main attraction: meat.
"I had some people that would drive from Middleburg to buy my meat," Partlow said. He butchered beef, lamb and chicken, but never turned a profit on meat sales alone — it served only to get people in the store and make a name for himself. "A lot of them liked the way I clipped chickens."
Soon, the Partlows remodeled the store to make it self-service, with large refrigerated units showing off a panoply of fruits and vegetables. Behind the counter, Partlow had a small office with a peephole where he kept an eye on the stock boys, who might swipe a Coke or two.
When he retired in 1983, Partlow's Grocery had operated only one year at a loss.
Since Partlow started leasing the store out 21 years ago, some things have changed: the name became the Aldie Country Store and the focus shifted from fine meats to high-profit convenience items, barbecue and lottery tickets. Some things, however, stayed the same.
Michelle Harris, who used to run to Partlow's Grocery to buy candy as a youngster, greets regular customers by name as they walk across the unvarnished wooden floor. She has worked at the Aldie Country Store for a year and a half.
"It's still got that country atmosphere," she said. "It hasn't been modernized like everything has been."
OVER AT PARTLOWS MARKET in Old Ashburn, a regression of sorts has taken place. Just north of the Washington & Old Dominion Regional Trail on Ashburn Road is a bright strip mall. Just south of the trail, however, is a cluster of specialty stores in old, irregular buildings. The plain, porched storefront of Partlows Market faces a curve in the road.
Nelson Partlow's sons ran the business until, like the Aldie Country Store, C-Stores Inc. took over and made it a traditional modern convenience store. But unlike Aldie, Ashburn has a convenience store on every corner. When a pair of cousins began running the store two years ago, they decided the time had come to make Partlow a distinct name in Ashburn again.
"Every day we get a handful of people who come in and say, 'Oh, I thought you only sold cigarettes and beer,'" said Mike Preast from behind the butcher's counter. He and his cousin Greg Preast sell freshly baked pastries, hand-dipped ice cream, deli sandwiches with Boar's Head meat, crab cakes, live bait, fine wine and any cut of prime meat a customer might want.
Mike Preast used to spend up to 18 hours a week commuting to his butcher shop in Springfield. While he and Greg Preast lived a mile apart in Ashburn, "we hardly saw each other for eight years," Mike said.
THAT'S ALL CHANGED NOW. The cousins have dedicated themselves to reversing the modernization of grocery store shopping in their store, or "throwing it backwards," as Greg Preast called it. With a close-knit staff of 20, the Preasts keep the store open from 5 a.m. to 9 p.m. in addition to catering private parties.
Patty Stevenson bakes the carrotcakes that seem to leap off the shelves every day. Her great uncle used to stop at Partlow Bros. to buy chewing tobacco, and now she's part of the clan.
"It's more than just a little country store anymore," she said. "It's like we've got out own little family."
Partlows Market is still like a little country store in one way: the Preasts do not advertise. Word of mouth has proven to work well enough, and in two years, they've gained a customer base that appreciates the quality of products in the store. Customers can still pick up a Snickers, too; the Preasts also value convenience.
"Our goal is to be able to provide the finest of everything," Greg Preast said. "If it's not the finest, we don't handle it."
Still, a large number of Ashburnites scoot past the unassuming store on their way to the 7-Eleven or Starbucks. At the moment, the Preasts have no plans to fancy up the storefront.
"While everyone else is moving forward, we're moving backward," Greg Preast said.