Right next to Howard's Market Basket was the old Texaco gas station. It was located in the same building now occupied by Hard Times. In those days the gas stations were called "service stations" because you actually got service there. There was a long rubber hose that ran from the service station across the entire driveway. When you drove over that hose a bell would ring inside the station to alert the gas station attendant that someone was in need of assistance. In the Firth Texaco station that attendant was none other than Frank Lyon. He usually had his head under the hood of a car but would stop what he was doing, wipe his hands on a greasy rag, place it in his back coverall pants pocket and come outside to pump your gas for you. He would also check your oil, check the air pressure in your tires, and wash your windshield. It was all part of the service. You could take your car to Frank for small repairs, lube jobs, and to get your tires rotated. It was the only business like it in town. Others had tried and failed at sustaining a gas station in Firth; they just didn't quite offer the amenities that Frank did.
Now for me as a child, Frank's service station supplied something that no one else in Firth offered. In the front corner of his little shop there was a water fountain. The funny part about that water fountain was that it ran continually. I don't know if it was in need of repair or if Frank simply liked his fountain that way. But no matter how hot the day, you could always slip into the gas station for a "cool" (mostly lukewarm) sip of water from that never ending fountain. Having run continually month after month, the water bowl developed it's own fauna and flora--namely, green moss--and a lovely shade at that. It gave you something to look at while you stole Frank's water. It didn't take a rocket scientest to know that Frank was annoyed at supplying water to all of the kids in the neighborhood. Since we were not paying customers he likely considered us as pure nuisance. And most likely we were! In order to avoid Frank's wrath I usually tried to slip in and out very quietly so as not to disturb him. But others--ahh--they were much braver than I. Some of the kids would get their drink and on their way out they would jump on the rubber hose and run! From inside the shop we'd hear Frank yelling "You kids get out of here." Can you imagine? Frank went to the same church as I did and everytime I'd see him at church I'd duck. I didn't want him telling my mom what a rotten kid I was. He never did. It makes me sad that Frank is gone now, as is the big red shiny Texaco star. They just don't make 'em like that anymore.
As the saying goes . . . "You can trust your car to the man who wear the star--the big bright Texaco Star". Quite a slogan!
Dee-Onn Mack-o-wacky!
I remember going to that place as a kid. I can remember the fountian and the delicate shade of green the moss was. The water always tasted so good after being outside riding our bikes through the town on summer vacation. I used to make a stop there after the ride into town and one after running around the bike trails near the river bottoms on the way home. And yes, the old rubber hose was there too. I don't remember purposely trying to set it off but I do remember it ringing the bell as I rode my bike over it.
ReplyDeleteI remember it as the Firth Service Station that Randy Rainsdon owned, before it was torn down to make Hard Times. The office was so small, there was hardly any room to move or think in there.