|
|
| Gasoline or Petrol Stations |
| First Memory | Milton Berle? Yep, four men in uniform would come out and sing a song about Texaco. And I also remember "You can trust your car to the man who wears the star". |  |
| Times Have Changed | Back then you didn't get out of the car. AS you pulled in your car would drive over a black tube which would ring a bell inside the station and an attendant would "rush" out and do everything for you - I mean everything. You'd give him the money and he would return with the change. And that was a pretty good thing too, because you didn't want to go into the office, for fear of getting grease on yourself. The only items for sale were maps and maybe there'd be a gum ball machine. Only thing worse than the office was the toilet. | |
| Self-Service | A big step for mankind. Whereas before only highly trained personnel could administer fuel now any yabbo could pump away. And wait for it; you paid less because you did the work (in 1980 it was 17¢/gallon cheaper to do so). And since there was no pump attendent you would have to go into the office to pay and slowly came the evolution of the office into "the store". You've got the customer out of the car and into the office, sell him something besides a map. | |
| Inflation | In the late 70's and early 80's inflation as double figures and gasoline prices rose rapidly. But the pumps weren't designed to go over $1.00. So stations set the price at half ($1.16 in 1980 = 58¢). you would fill up and then they would charge you twice what the pump read. | |
| Halloween | Way back when I were a boy in Richfield there was a contest to decorate gas station windows. I don't recall who was my partner and I don't know remember what the design was. What I do remember that it was cold in that Pure station at the southwest corner of Portland and 66th. We used poster paint and painted on the inside of the window. I also know that we didn't win, but it was an adventure. |  |
| Father-in-Law | Yep, he owned a gas station at 36th and Lyndale South in Minneapolis. In 1964, when it was still Pure Oil he employed a short-shorts lady to pump and made the papers (read article). Union Oil bought out Pure and it became a Union 76 station. Dick was a bigot, a mean version of Archie Bunker. He wouldn't serve Negroes (niggers to him) and would set his German shepherd on any that came to the station. He was also a real rip off con-man who employed alcoholic mechanics. After work they would hit the bars. But while at work there was always a poker game going on in the office and you would find the local cop sitting in for a couple hands. |  |
| Uncle | When Jerry retired from farming he ran a rundown Mobil station in Morgan, Minnesota. Not much business at the pump - other stations in town did better and he gave it up after a few years to deliver oil. In July 1969 he was in the Cities at a training course and he brought me and Chris back to Morgan with him and that was when I had a chance to see the place. I recall that it was a small dirty white-painted brick building. | |
| Attendants | Bill Breth Sr would come home from working at a factory and do the night shift at the Texaco on 66th.
Bill Breth Jr would do the same in the 1970s.
Kincy's uncle, Leroy worked (maybe owned it) at a station in South Mpls. July 1960 Kincy and I delivered fliers for the place. Jane worked at Standard near my father and talked about me being in NZ all the time, so in 1997 I stopped in there for petrol and told her that I was the guy from New Zealand Roseanne Emery worked at Papakura Mobil while at university. Glen O'Donnell worked at Papakura BP while at Rosehill. Julie Allen "manned" the pumps in Perth between jobs with mining companies. Dumb and Dumber 2002 - Read about them Dummy 3 Waiuku grad - He didn't know who Hitler or Stalin was. Glenbook BP - He claimed he ran naked across a Prague bridge in winter Grace - my favorite pumper at the Glenbrook BP. A short Maori woman with long hair and broken teeth. She once heard the Vienna Boy's choir sing in NZ. The Iraqi owner changed the place to a Caltex station and Grace hated the red uniform ("too loud and bright"). | |
| Me | Yes, me. In the mid-sixties I would bring my car in for servicing at the station on Highway 100 and Golden Valley Road. I got to know the mechanics who were pretty much my age. I would help them while they worked on my car hoping to learn something. One time, I guess when there was no boss around, the guy told me to take care of the car that pulled in, as he was in a critical juncture in the job on my car. I told him that I didn't know what to do. Remember, this was before the age of self-service. Well, I spent about an hour that night pumping gas, cleaning windows, checking oil... | |
| The Ring | Once while at the GV station I was inside and when the large door began to open my ring caught on it and up went my arm. Luckily, my screams were heeded and the door was stopped and I didn't lose my finger. But the ring did get a little out of shape. | |
