At the close of 2025, the small town of Cheney, Kansas, said farewell to part of its story. SPK Grocery on North Main Street shut down on December 31. But this was different from other business closures. It was the end of a chapter that started in the 1960s. People who depended on it for milk, holiday dinners, and everything in between now feel something missing from their everyday lives. Here’s the thing about places like Cheney. Local stores become more than just stores. They’re part of what makes a town feel like home.
That building at 412 N. Main has been through a lot of changes. It all started in 1964 when it opened as Dewey’s IGA, providing essentials to the community. Cheney back then was much like it is today – a tight-knit town west of Wichita, with farms spreading out and families needing nearby stores. Jim McGuffey eventually took over, changing the name to Jim’s Foodliner and later Jim’s Apple Market. For more than 30 years, the McGuffey family kept things running. They built connections that turned shoppers into friends. Imagine that – over three decades of the same people working there, talking with customers at the register.
Then, in the summer of 2019, Patrick Schrant and his late wife stepped in, buying the place and renaming it SPK Grocery. Pat, as he’s known around town, poured effort into keeping it viable. But challenges piled up. Small-town grocers have it tough these days, what with supply chain hiccups and rising costs. A couple of years back, Pat mentioned how stocking shelves with what people wanted was the real battle, even more than inflation. And personally, after losing his wife, running the operation solo must have felt heavier.
By September 2025, the “For Sale” sign went up. Pat made it clear: if no buyer came forward, the store would close by year’s end. He even shared a contact number for interested parties, hoping someone might carry on the tradition. Months ticked by, but no takers emerged. Come December, word spread fast—employees tipped off shoppers at the registers, and social media lit up with the news. One post from a local group captured the surprise: a customer learning about the December 31 shutdown right there in line.
Adding to the bittersweet feel, Kathy Pauly, a longtime employee, chose this moment to retire. She’d been a fixture behind the scenes, helping manage operations through thick and thin. Her departure says it all. This isn’t just about clearing out inventory. It’s about people who’ve dedicated years to this spot. Their whole lives are tied up in it.
Cheney has around 2,000 residents, and while there are some options, they’re limited. You’ve got Dollar General for quick purchases and a farm supply store for hardware needs. But a full grocery store? That’s different. Fresh produce, meats, and dairy were available at SPK every day from 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. Now, residents might need to drive to Goddard or Wichita for these essentials. This creates real problems, especially for seniors or people without reliable transportation. A new resident recently mentioned how having a local grocery, pharmacy, and other amenities made moving in feel like a friendly welcome. Without that, the town’s atmosphere could shift.
Over the years, SPK adapted to stay relevant. It had departments for fresh meat, produce, frozen goods, and even beer. The local shop tried everything to survive. Weekly ads to bring people in. Online options for convenience. Rewards programs to build loyalty. They followed the playbook. But here’s the reality – when you’re up against Walmart, the game is rigged. Pat’s choice to close reflects that simple truth. It’s a business decision, sure. But for the community that relied on that store, it’s personal.
As the doors locked that New Year’s Eve, memories lingered. Kids who grew up grabbing candy after school, families planning meals around sales, and even the occasional health inspection hiccup that got resolved. It’s the end of an era, but Cheney has history on its side. The town dates back to 1884, with roots in railroading and agriculture. Other businesses, like Cleo’s Flower Shop or the pharmacy, keep the downtown humming.
What comes next for the building? That’s unclear. Maybe a new venture fills the space, or perhaps it sits quietly for a while. Residents are already talking about it online, sharing stories and expressing thanks. One thing’s certain: SPK’s closure leaves a void, reminding everyone how vital these local anchors are. For now, the sign’s down, the lights off, and Cheney’s adjusting to a new normal.
Original article
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