Another Part of our Culture Slowly Disappears

(Editor’s Note: Monticello native Chris Bridges, a reporter and columnist for Mainstreet Newspapers based in Jefferson, wrote this column last week about the Amoco full-service gas station in Monticello that was operated for many years by Walker Thornton.)

“He pumped your gas and he cleaned your glass. One cold rainy night, he fixed your flat. New store came where you do it yourself, and you bought lotto tickets and food off the shelf.”
–from an Alan Jackson song

Being in my mid 30s, there are many things I have missed out on that my parents and grandparents’ generations were fortunate to have.
One such thing is the full-service gas station that has all but gone the way of the dinosaur today.

The full-service station is not completely extinct, but within a few years you will be hard pressed to see one. Many of the ones you see today have been vacant for years. Some are fortunate to have some other type of business in them, but many sit and crumble by virtue of years of neglect.

My mind has been on full-service gas stations in recent days after I saw a disturbing picture in my hometown newspaper, which I still receive by mail each week. The photo was of an empty lot where Mr. Walker Thornton’s full-service gas station once stood proud.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that the station was demolished. It had been empty for some time and was on the verge of collapsing by itself.

In its day, “Doc’s” Amoco station was the kind where you had the gas pumped for you. Your windshield was cleaned, the oil level was checked, your tires examined and you always got service with a smile. If you needed a new battery for your vehicle, “Doc” always seemed to have one that fit the bill. If you needed an oil change, “Doc” could take care of you.

The station was nowhere near as large as the self-serve kinds you see cluttering the landscape today. His station had two gas pumps and a humble selection of snacks. There was a Coke machine outside the store where you could still buy an assortment of drinks in a bottle. Forget cans and plastic containers, nothing beats a cold, bottled drink.

When I reached driving age in the late 1980s, my vehicle never was filled up anywhere but “Doc’s.” If I was going out of town then I filled up at “Doc’s” before I left. It was that way for my entire family. “Doc” was a grandfatherly figure, who probably meant as much to my family as anyone not blood-related. You always knew “Doc” would be there for you, whatever the circumstance.

“Doc” passed away in 1990 and his station continued on under different owners for a few years (trivia note: you can catch a glimpse of the station while it was still in operation in the movie “My Cousin Vinny” as Joe Pesci is looking at photographs while eating lunch near the conclusion of the film).

Yet, somehow it never was the same after “Doc” passed away. I don’t remember exactly when the station closed for the last time, but it was sad to see it slowly deteriorate in the last decade or so it stood. Even with the station now gone, I don’t think there will ever be a time I drive by the lot that I won’t think of “Doc” and his business.

It’s gone now, but a piece of my youth will always remain on that spot. For in my mind, the gas pumps will always be ready, friendly service will be the order of the day and “Doc” will greet me with a smile, a firm handshake and with the knowledge that he was more than a local gas station owner.

I miss his station and I miss its owner. No amount of time that goes by–or the destruction of a building–will ever change that.

Contact Chris Bridges at 706- 367-2745 or e-mail comments to chris@mainstreetnews.com.