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Old gas stations

Honorary Colonel Arthur T. Nelson opened his beautifully landscaped Texaco station at the intersection of US 66 and MO 5 near Lebanon, Missouri. (1926)

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I drive by this one on occasion on the NW side of Springfield, Missouri. Someone on FaceBook stopped in and asked if they had any photos of it back in the day. The kid at the counter pulled this older image off the wall. He stated that that was his grandmother on the far right in the pic. Circa 1930.

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It's still open and they still have the Flying-A Cafe sign in the family.

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Harp

I'll Lock Up
Messages
8,508
Location
Chicago, IL US
The guy in the Hopper painting is taking the pump readings to make sure the amount he pumped squares with the amount rung up at the cash register. If it doesn't match up, his wife, who does the bookkeeping, will give him hell.

One of my favorite Hopper paintings. ....But I always thought the attendant stepped out to catch a smoke,
or stretch legs. And how do you know he is married; or, if he is hitched, that his wife does the bookkeep?;):)
 
Messages
10,939
Location
My mother's basement
For as long as I’ve been aware of “Gas,” the Hopper painting we’re pondering here, I’ve seen a gas station operator taking the pump readings at the end of the workday. The lighting says dusk to me. But then, maybe he’s counting the quart cans of oil.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,760
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
I imagine if you eat a few "Hi Way Sandwiches" you'll get all the gas you can handle. It looks from the sign pole, though, that there were gas pumps there at one time. Probably the oil company couldn't handle the natural-gas competition.

The street I grew up on had a Socony/Mobil station at the corner for a very long time, but it closed around 1970 or so. The building was converted to various uses over the years -- it's now some kind of a screen-printing shop -- but for fifty years after the Red Horse flew away, the sign pole still stood there on that corner, getting rustier by the year. Whenever I went down to visit my mother, I always enjoyed seeing it there -- the one thing about the neighborhood that hadn't changed. And then I went down a couple weeks ago, and it was gone without a trace. I asked my mother when that happened, and she said -- having lived on that street for 95 percent of her 82 years of life -- "What sign pole? Whatta you talking about?"
 

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