Shooster’s gas station with 13 brands of fuel
I can only imagine how big a gamble he undertook. Buying a gas station was a bold calculated risk. Ninth Street serviced Route 13, the main north-south route between New York and Washington, D.C. All of that traffic went right by our place. I guess my father was betting on the changing American landscape; it was a good bet. The automobile was changing everything, defining a new culture. Drive-in restaurants were just beginning to take hold, drag racing, necking with girls in cars, the formation of suburbs and so much more was just around the corner. Cars were the IN thing. They drove by with radios blaring from open windows. Swing and Big Band music filled the air. Along with the rise in automobiles, roads were being built everywhere to accommodate them and, since cars needed fuel and constant service, Pop bet on a sure thing, especially since yesterday’s cars are nothing like today’s. Old cars weren’t reliable. Radiators needed water frequently, batteries failed easily, requir- ing daily checking, inner tubes inside the tires blew out, and the roads had potholes and other debris, causing constant damage.
On a 100-mile trip to Atlantic City, you had to be prepared to fix a flat tire, fill your radiator and bring plenty of fluids because there was no air conditioning. Regardless of the inconveniences, people loved their cars and the independence that came along with them. As a result, they were driving right past our little station with the sign, OPEN and, when they stopped, we treated them well. Everywhere cars went, the culture of America changed. In a few years, we would also be displaced by those very same new roads. Our station got its small share of custom- ers. Hanging out with my dad and brothers left me with many memories. Most days we listened to the radio while we waited. One of the highlights of those times was when a baseball game was on. Rarely, if ever, did we hear a football game. If we did, it was never a professional football game, only college or high school. I had never even heard of profes- sional football. Working at the station, I saw all kinds of people dressed for traveling. Some were headed for the big cities and others the beach.
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