Our Family first moved to South Texas, in 1960. We lived on North Odem Avenue, in Sinton, San Patricio County, Texas.
We had just moved a few weeks back, and it was time to mow the grass. I do not remember where my Brother Ralph was at, or maybe he pulled a Huckleberry Finn’s, “White Washing the Fence” on me, but I do not see how he could have made mowing the lawn look as if it was as fun as whitewashing a fence. Anyway I had the chore of mowing the lawn.
I remember the lawn mower was a used one. Who knows what my Father bartered away, or just plain talked the guy out of it. Whatever, I know my Dad was a Good Salesman and would not have purchased it had it not been a good deal. Once it was home, I remember Dad turning the mower on its side and removing the Blade and sharping it with a rasp. The same rasp I would pretend was a spear and throw through the air in the yard of forgotten golf holes, pretty cool.
After putting the blade back on he attempted to fix the front left wheel, I remember it was the front left, because anytime I tried to turn left while mowing, it would be very awkward feeling, like I was going into the ground briefly before becoming a chore to turn. Unlike the other wheels which were perpendicular to the ground this one ran between 30 and 60 degrees to the ground depending on the timing of my trying to turn the mower. I got pretty good at turning right, and it was one fairly good size square to mow and then around the house a few rows and I was done, except for cleaning the mower once it cooled down, which I assumed so as not to crack the engine block. For this brief chunk of time out of my life, I was rewarded with a buck ($1.00), and that was a lot of money for an eleven year old kid.
Where to spend it?
Now there weren’t any arcades in those days in Sinton, nor was there a soda shop that I knew of in town. Of course there was the Five and Dime store with part of a row, with shelves on each side, about six foot long which contained all the toys there was to offer.
The only entertaining adventure I had had so far in the neighborhood was going a block south one block to the County Court House. It was not much of an adventure, but it did have cool green carpet grass all around it, and was always well lit at night. I remember the carpet grass being so cool to my bare feet. There also was a War Monument on the corner of the Court House block. I would sit there sometime in the evening, and watching the cars go by. It always seemed cool there and it was a good way to kill time.
But it was afternoon and I was rather warm after mowing the lawn. I had not yet visited or should I say explored the two pump generic Gas station down the street. It was on Northeast side of the corner of West Fulton, and North Odem. So, I decided I would go and check out this gas station. Of course I was under the assumption that all the Gas Stations had Soda Machines. Every one we stopped at on the way down from Dublin did. Of course that does not mean we got sodas when Dad would stop to get gas. When Dad was on the road it was like hell bent for leather to get from point A to point B. The regiment was if we stopped for gas, we had better do our business because there would be no forgiving if you had to stop along the way.
Even though it was the short distance of a couple of blocks from the gas station it was relaxing. As I walked along the sidewalk, which was cracked and broken in places, and did not exist in other places, I wondered when the sidewalk was first put in place. Sitll, I enjoyed the breeze as it hit my face and evaporated the sweat from my shirt. It appeared to tickled way through the light green mesquite leaves, which were providing shade from the heat of the sun. Occasionally I would hear the singing of the male cicadas, looking for a mate. I would find their shed nymph skins clinging to the trunks, and limbs of the trees. The first time I saw one of their shells, I was amazed at how perfect they looked mimicking the actual insect that had left it behind, except for what appeared to be a precision cut right down the middle of the back.
Reaching West Fulton Street, I waited to cross over the street, as a car went by leaving a trail of white dust flowing up into the air briefly before settling back down to the road. Yes I jay walked, one corner to the next to reach the gas station’s white caliche drive way.
It had two pumps I do remember one was red maybe both, funny, but the color of the other one evades that same memory space. I opened the screen door which had a tin Coca Cola sign attached to it, promising cool refreshment inside. There was a counter to my left, which stretched the length of the small room with an opening for the proprietor to get through. On the right, side of the store, its center contained single group of shelves with a left and right side to form the to rows where one could walk. All these shelves were filled with chips, bread, soup, mustard and mayonnaise, etc. The back side of the store was a group of small freezer compartments which contained items like milk, orange juice, few packages of lunch meat, and of course ice cream among other perishable items. On right side of the building opposite the counter more shelves with a small amount of auto goods like oil, fan belts, etc.
Continuing to look clockwise around the store my eyes came to rest on the front side of the room facing the front of the building and to the right of the door I came in, there was a large heavy looking metal red box. It looked like it had seen better days, and probably been painted several times as paint chipped here and there revealing some of the few dozen coats of paint. Looking closer, toward one end I could see a bottle opener with catch pan immediately below it, for the detached lids from the bottles. But where were the bottles?
As I was staring at the big red box, I heard someone walk in from the back of the store. Turning I saw a slender man with dark brown skin, and raven black hair, and mustache, which dropped and pointed toward the floor from the corners of his mouth.
The man Smiled and asked with a heavy accent, I had not heard before, “How can I help you?”
I froze for a second being a kid and being a bit taken aback by the heavy accent. Almost with a stutter I asked, “Do you have soda pops?”
He grinned, and said, “Sure, it is right next to you.”
Looking around again, my mind stopped my body and held its position with my eyes staring at the large red box, only adjusting briefly to again review the bottle opener and its container. But still puzzled that I was not seeing any bottles of soda.
Where?”, I puzzlingly said. I felt and must have looked pretty silly.
As he came around the counter and walked over to the box and opened the top. It was like a great big lid. Inside I could see several rows of soda tops pointing toward the ceiling. There must have been ten are so rows each containing different brands of soda. I saw the usual suspects that I enjoyed over my few years on this earth. There were Big Red, Nehi with its flavors Grape, Cherry, and Orange, Barg’s Root Beer, Coca-Cola, Dr. Pepper, Seven up (7 Up), to name just a few.
He grinned again and asked what i would like and I said, “Coke.” He said they were 15 cents just put your change in here pointing to the mechanism in the right front of the machine.
I pulled the dollar bill out of my pocket and held it up for him to see. He smiled and reached in to his pocket and pulled out some change, sorted through it and put in a dime and nickel. Then guided the Coca-Cola down its track to the end and then down the track to the front of the machine. Pulled the bottle out with a ca-chang of a noise of the lock opening and shutting.
He then closed the top of the red box and set coke bottle on the counter, returning behind the counter himself, awaiting my other purchases. “What else, my friend?” he asked again with the accent this time it did not seem so heavy to me.
I responded, “I don’t know.” and he, “Take your time, look around, we all have time.”
At the end of the shelving unit that divided room the room was a display rack with all sorts of things on it. But what struck me was a perfectly round purplish-pink peanut brittle looking like candy. That was the first time I had seen peanut brittle, other than what my mom would make home made, from Uncle Red’s Peanut crop, and it certainly was not purplish-pink. It said Peanut Pattie on the front of it. I decide I would try one. And on impulse I also grabbed a small bag of Frito corn chips and laid them both besides the Coca-Cola already on the counter.
“Will that be all?”, he asked as he rang up my goodies.
“Yes Sir.” is all I said. Remembering my manners, which ever Texan is taught from the ground up, and most continue to use the rest of their lives.
I remember being surprised that I got so much change back, thought I was rich I had so much jingle in my levi’s pocket. I made a mental note to return again tomorrow.
“Thank you!”, I gleefully said, as I grabbed my treasure and headed for the door.
“You are welcome, my new friend.” was all he said. Looking over my sholder before closing the screen door, I saw his wonderful smile. Indeed I thought I have a new friend.
The whole time we lived on North Odem, we did use the store at the gas station. We would run and get a loaf of Mrs. Beard’s bread almost daily. We would use the bread for cinnamon toast and for melted cheese on top of the bread both we would eat as our breakfast. The melted cheese were made by placing Kraft American Cheese slices on the bread lining up four to six on the grill located in the bottom drawer of the stove. Milk we would have for breakfast or any time especially with Nestle Quick Chocalate mix stirred right in. We even would fill up the Gas container we had for the three legged lawn mower, there too.
( Note: the Pink Patty was from either Goodarts Candy or Tyler Candy companies and cost like 5 to 10 cents, Frito Corn Chips were like 15 to 25 cents, and Cokes were 10 to 15 cents with three cent return for the bottle)
__________
The Poppadillo Blog, is the blog page for the Texas Tortilla Factory website, and its stories have been written by Mike Vauthier, and Administratively Approved Authors.
__________