For 40 years the folks in Austin have been hooked on Hookers. But, alas, the time has come for us to let go. As of June 1, Mr. and Mrs. Donut are retiring.

In 1976, only four days into their marriage, Don and Janet opened their first shop. They’ve stayed put ever since. Perhaps nothing is more telling of their long history than the prices: coffee then was 10 cents (now is $1.70), a donut was 15 cents (now is 99 cents) and a dozen donuts was $1.60 (now is $9.99).

By any account this is a success story. Not only has their business thrived, but so has their marriage. Imagine working together for four decades and still liking each other! But do not think this was due to happenstance. No, no! Their secret has always been that Janet is in charge of the public side of the shop, while Don takes care of the rest, their two divisions of power sharply defined. Smart people! (Hmmm, does eating donuts make people smart?)

The Hooker marriage has not been one of a nocturnal couple watching late night talk shows. In fact, the two of them have not seen the setting sun for 14,520 days! Thank goodness they take off for Thanksgiving and Christmas or they wouldn’t believe that the sun really and truly does set. Such a strict adherence to a 6:30 p.m. bed time has been a necessity, for the Hooker morning begins before the somnolent rooster ever crows. Everyday before the proverbial dawn has even had a chance to crack, Don is on the road at 2 a.m.

Contrary to what you may think, their donuts are made only once a day. The actual making of them is the job of two stalwart bakers who work throughout the night mixing, raising and baking. This process requires six to eight hours and must be completed in time for Don’s wee hour deliveries. It is only a guess, but I’m thinking these two bakers no longer believe there is a sun!

While Don tootles around Mower County with donut aromas wafting from of his truck windows (is that fair?), Janet opens the shop doors at 4:30 a.m. (And here we thought emergency room physicians had a tough job!) She assured me that at this ungodly hour there is many an early riser who needs his morning fix of coffee and donuts, and she has spent her life seeing that these addicted souls were well cared for. And for you who think that everyday Janet and Don take a sack of leftover treats, it’s not true. Rarely does anything go unsold thereby banishing your notions of them playing ring toss with a petrified blueberry donut.

Some of you Austin oldsters may remember that the Hooker’s shop began as Mister Donut in 1976, then transitioned into Dunkin’ Donuts in 1991. It finally made up its mind when it became the Donut Connection in 2005. Interestingly, in all this juggling of store names, the recipe has not changed. Delicious is delicious no matter what their store has called itself.

Some of you may be panicking about now — tearing your hair out at the idea of no more donuts. But, not to worry. All will soon be in the capable hands of Lee Prom, the new bachelor manager who has moved to Austin from Shakopee to take over the business. Helping him will be his mother, Kim, and his father, Lien. Janet assures us that the transition will be seamless, without a single burp in the donut road. And even more critical, the bakers (the ones who have not seen the sun for moons), will stay on. Like a sweet glaze running down the sides of a perfect old fashioned donut, Austin’s blessings continue to flow!

One has to wonder about the history of donuts. Like when, for starters, did that one smart alecky speller get rid of the disrespectful “ugh”? I’ll bet it was the original Mr. Donut who, after all, did not want such an offense in the middle of his flagship product. As for me, I, actually, have never met a donut that I thought was “ugh.” They all have my name on them written out in chocolate, glaze, powdered sugar and sprinkles.

One also has to wonder about the donut hole. Without it is a donut a Bismarck … or a hamburger bun? Did it get its origin by throwing away the ring of dough and just keeping the hole? And how did they make those holes anyway? Was the dough shoved onto a long pole which poked out the middles, thus having a pile of speared unusable holes? Moreover, was this similar to the caveman who finally invented a better wheel after going around for eons pulling his cart on those clunky rock tires? And then one day in 3B.C. he suddenly had the inspiration to carve out a hole in the rocks and insert an axle? I’m not sure, but I’m really glad there are donuts and donut holes. Together they have made the world a better place.

The thought of donut holes, though, does beg the question of why other things do not have holes in their centers? Like why not the hamburger or the sandwich or the pizza? Probably because their juices would run out through the center, flowing down like the drain in a sink.

People’s donut taste buds vary immensely. For some it is the French cruller which upon first glance looks like a small tractor tire, but is later discovered to be lighter than an angel’s wing. Or the old fashioned donut which upon feeling is indeed a small, heavy, but oh-so-yummy tractor tire! Then there are the raised, filled and frosted varieties that so tickle our appetites. The dense sour cream donut certainly holds a special place in our hearts. I wonder if it could be slid over an iron pole and used for weight lifting? And is our weight gain from donuts relative to the weight of the donut that we’ve just consumed, making of course, the cruller the Jenny Craig donut of choice?

One also has to ponder over why all donuts are brown? What’s wrong with pink or chartreuse or stripes? Nowadays even things like cauliflower comes in different hues, so why not donuts? When I was a kid, my grocer dad used to bring home the bananas that had gotten old. I grew up believing that bananas were brown — even black! It wasn’t until I went to college that I discovered they were yellow! Just shows what an education can do for a girl.

All this donut talk has me thinking about Tom Thumb. Did he really need to invent a tiny donut so that his tiny hand could more comfortably hold it? Or was it that his miniature tummy could not stomach a normal sized donut? Gosh, one has to wonder at just how small his donut holes were … like little pellets. Or shouldn’t we go there?

Here’s the gospel truth about the Hookers and their retirement. They will never ever really leave us for most all of us will continue to carry them around with us. It’s those donuts around our waists that I’m talking about. And isn’t that vision a whole lot cuter than calling them spare tires? Plus, didn’t we have one heck of a good time piling them on? I’m thinking that even the Michelin man is actually made of Hooker donuts.

I think it’s fair to say that the Hooker’s departure is going to leave a great big donut hole in the soul of Austin. In their honor I am naming the donuts that encircle my middle “Janet” and “Don.” Jan is the top smaller roll, while Donnie is the seriously heavy bottom roll. And if I keep up this pace, I’ll soon add a “Lee!”

Peggy Keener of Austin is the author of two books: “Potato In A Rice Bowl” and “Wondahful Mammaries.” Peggy Keener invites readers to share their memories with her by emailing maggiemamm16@gmail.com. Memories shared with Keener may be shared or referenced in subsequent editions of “Full Circle.”