I have quite a few good memories of working at Conway's service station.This was way back in the early sixties which was long before half or more of the world's population existed. I hope you enjoy these snippets that may seem so very different than anything today. There was a tiny old woman who lived nearby who would come by in the winter and buy kerosene to heat her home. We sold kerosene for 20 cents a gallon and this tiny woman, perhaps 5 feet tall and a whopping 80 pounds, would have me fill her one gallon glass jug and then carry that heavy jug back home. I always felt sorry for her and would have liked to at least carry the jug home for her, but I couldn't leave the station. These days a person can't fill a glass container with any flammable liquid.
There was a kind old man that came into the station once or twice a week in a beautiful old Buick sedan that always had a shine on it that looked showroom fresh despite it being an old car. The big Buick sedans were not known for good gas mileage, but he would drive in and buy 50 cents worth of gas. Our usual price was 26 cents a gallon at that time. I asked him about what he could do in that big sedan with a small amount of gas? He was retired and a widower and he would drive older widows to their doctor appointments. He had little income as did the old women he drove, so the 50 cents covered his cost to drive them and it was an inexpensive taxi ride for the old ladies.
There was another different male character, an irascible type that was intolerable as far as I was concerned. He came in twice every week and bought two dollars worth of gasoline. While he was there, he demanded I wash not only his windshield, but every window of his car, and then check the oil, remove all the battery fill caps and ensure each cell was filled, check his transmission fluid and windshield washer fluid. I told him that it was not necessary to do that so often, but he insisted. I suppose he wanted to get his money's worth and even more. I complained to Conway about that issue and he told me that it was important to give the customer what he wanted. About two weeks later I was not working on a day when this same horrible man came into the station and demanded his usual service. Conway was taking care of the driveway that day. The man demanded that Conway do all that I was doing with the washing and checking. The boss man saw what I had to deal with twice a week. I reported for work the next day and Conway said, "Bill your buddy won't be coming in anymore." I must have had a puzzled look on my face, so Conway told me he ran that old man off the lot and told him never to come back. Conway's language was vastly more colorful than what I am using in my story.
Conway's station was open from 7 am to 7 pm 6 days a week. I worked after school until closing and the whole 12 hours in the summertime for 1 dollar an hour. Conway had a mechanic that did brake work, front end work and engine rebuilding. I covered all the gas pumping, oil changing, lubrication and tire repairs. The mechanic was Morris Schneider and he worked 7 am to 3 pm. Conway came in just before 3 pm and closed at 7 pm unless there was a heavy load of brake repairs. Schneider and I were there alone most of the time. There was an old style Coca-Cola machine there. It had a flat top and below was a rotating disc that when you put in your 10 cents a lever would release and allow you to remove one Coca-Cola. The machine had a huge tank of water in the bottom that cooled the bottles of Coca-Cola. The tank was deep and Schneider kept his beer in there in a corner of the machine. Schneider saw that I was putting a lot of dimes in the machine in the hot summer. He came into the office one afternoon and told me I didn't need to pay for those drinks, not on the paltry money I was making. He then proceeded to show me how to get them free. The big flat lid on the machine had a simple lever on the right side of the machine that held the top in place. All you had to do was push the right side of the top a half inch to the left and the lid would open and that was how he got to his beer down in the bottom of the cooler. There were also all the Coca-Cola bottles down there, waiting to be loaded for sale.
My tire repair duties were easy enough using a machine to break down the seal from rims on car and small pickup trucks. And then there were big truck tires. Some weighed half as much as I did. Those tires were not able to use the tire machine because they had what was called a split rim. I had to break then down with a tire iron. They were extremely difficult to break down and repair. They also all had inner tubes. If after finding and removing a nail that caused the tire to go flat and repairing the inner tube it was a difficult chore to put the tube back in a way so when I refilled the tube with air it didn't get pinched in inside the tire on the rim. If that happened the tire would rub and go flat within a day or so of use and then come back to haunt me.
Conway had 2 daughters and they would drop by the station to refuel their cars. Both had gone to college and were school teachers. One of them was very indifferent to me when she brought her car in for fuel. She looked down on this poor young man who filled her gas tank and she never said a word to me. Now the other daughter was a gorgeous raven-haired beauty. She treated me as a person and even flirted at times. I was infatuated with her when she came in for gas.
On occasion Conway would have to leave early for some unknown reason. He always had someone else who would come and be there with me until closing. He trusted me with closing, but I suppose because I was so sheltered in my life at that time I needed someone with me after he left and the station was in fact in a bad neighborhood. He had the big iron bars on the windows long before they became popular in places around town. Usually he called Pete to come in when he was gone. I never knew Pete's background, perhaps he was what I was later on. I liked Pete, he was a good man. One night Conway had to leave and Pete was unavailable, so he had his raven haired daughter come in to be with me. I can't begin to say how much that thrilled me. She would have been no help in a bad situation as Pete would have been, but I didn't care because I was so infatuated with her. That was the best night of my life at that time in my life. There was little interruption, so I had several hours with her. It was, at the time, heaven on earth. She toyed with me and I bought it hook line and sinker. I really didn't care because I had those few short hours that I still remember today in a small way. I am smiling even now as I write this ending to my post.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2026 and beyond.
There was a kind old man that came into the station once or twice a week in a beautiful old Buick sedan that always had a shine on it that looked showroom fresh despite it being an old car. The big Buick sedans were not known for good gas mileage, but he would drive in and buy 50 cents worth of gas. Our usual price was 26 cents a gallon at that time. I asked him about what he could do in that big sedan with a small amount of gas? He was retired and a widower and he would drive older widows to their doctor appointments. He had little income as did the old women he drove, so the 50 cents covered his cost to drive them and it was an inexpensive taxi ride for the old ladies.
There was another different male character, an irascible type that was intolerable as far as I was concerned. He came in twice every week and bought two dollars worth of gasoline. While he was there, he demanded I wash not only his windshield, but every window of his car, and then check the oil, remove all the battery fill caps and ensure each cell was filled, check his transmission fluid and windshield washer fluid. I told him that it was not necessary to do that so often, but he insisted. I suppose he wanted to get his money's worth and even more. I complained to Conway about that issue and he told me that it was important to give the customer what he wanted. About two weeks later I was not working on a day when this same horrible man came into the station and demanded his usual service. Conway was taking care of the driveway that day. The man demanded that Conway do all that I was doing with the washing and checking. The boss man saw what I had to deal with twice a week. I reported for work the next day and Conway said, "Bill your buddy won't be coming in anymore." I must have had a puzzled look on my face, so Conway told me he ran that old man off the lot and told him never to come back. Conway's language was vastly more colorful than what I am using in my story.
Conway's station was open from 7 am to 7 pm 6 days a week. I worked after school until closing and the whole 12 hours in the summertime for 1 dollar an hour. Conway had a mechanic that did brake work, front end work and engine rebuilding. I covered all the gas pumping, oil changing, lubrication and tire repairs. The mechanic was Morris Schneider and he worked 7 am to 3 pm. Conway came in just before 3 pm and closed at 7 pm unless there was a heavy load of brake repairs. Schneider and I were there alone most of the time. There was an old style Coca-Cola machine there. It had a flat top and below was a rotating disc that when you put in your 10 cents a lever would release and allow you to remove one Coca-Cola. The machine had a huge tank of water in the bottom that cooled the bottles of Coca-Cola. The tank was deep and Schneider kept his beer in there in a corner of the machine. Schneider saw that I was putting a lot of dimes in the machine in the hot summer. He came into the office one afternoon and told me I didn't need to pay for those drinks, not on the paltry money I was making. He then proceeded to show me how to get them free. The big flat lid on the machine had a simple lever on the right side of the machine that held the top in place. All you had to do was push the right side of the top a half inch to the left and the lid would open and that was how he got to his beer down in the bottom of the cooler. There were also all the Coca-Cola bottles down there, waiting to be loaded for sale.
My tire repair duties were easy enough using a machine to break down the seal from rims on car and small pickup trucks. And then there were big truck tires. Some weighed half as much as I did. Those tires were not able to use the tire machine because they had what was called a split rim. I had to break then down with a tire iron. They were extremely difficult to break down and repair. They also all had inner tubes. If after finding and removing a nail that caused the tire to go flat and repairing the inner tube it was a difficult chore to put the tube back in a way so when I refilled the tube with air it didn't get pinched in inside the tire on the rim. If that happened the tire would rub and go flat within a day or so of use and then come back to haunt me.
Conway had 2 daughters and they would drop by the station to refuel their cars. Both had gone to college and were school teachers. One of them was very indifferent to me when she brought her car in for fuel. She looked down on this poor young man who filled her gas tank and she never said a word to me. Now the other daughter was a gorgeous raven-haired beauty. She treated me as a person and even flirted at times. I was infatuated with her when she came in for gas.
On occasion Conway would have to leave early for some unknown reason. He always had someone else who would come and be there with me until closing. He trusted me with closing, but I suppose because I was so sheltered in my life at that time I needed someone with me after he left and the station was in fact in a bad neighborhood. He had the big iron bars on the windows long before they became popular in places around town. Usually he called Pete to come in when he was gone. I never knew Pete's background, perhaps he was what I was later on. I liked Pete, he was a good man. One night Conway had to leave and Pete was unavailable, so he had his raven haired daughter come in to be with me. I can't begin to say how much that thrilled me. She would have been no help in a bad situation as Pete would have been, but I didn't care because I was so infatuated with her. That was the best night of my life at that time in my life. There was little interruption, so I had several hours with her. It was, at the time, heaven on earth. She toyed with me and I bought it hook line and sinker. I really didn't care because I had those few short hours that I still remember today in a small way. I am smiling even now as I write this ending to my post.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2026 and beyond.
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