Army service, he and his brother, Howard, had built a garage and became
the distributor for Maxwell and Chalmers, a fine, early automobile.
Later, the partnership was dissolved; Howard kept the broom-corn business,
and Daddy the garage. The two brothers were never really close friends
After his military duty, Daddy returned to his garage work in Sayre.
Incidents that happened at the garage are similar to those
on the Gasoline Alley comic strip. Often, before selling a car, Daddy
had to teach his customers how to drive. He also had to train his
servicemen. On one occasion a new hired hand was told to put oil in
a car he was servicing. He brought out the oil just after the main
mechanic had removed the spark plugs for cleaning. Seeing the empty
spark plug holes, he poured the oil there! People were not car literate
in those days.
The car of an absent-minded professor, a very good friend of Daddys,
was stalled and he asked Daddy to tow it. After tying a line onto
the car, Daddy started to pull him down a sloping road. When his car
started, the professor immediately pulled up to Daddy in his car.
Daddy, looking out his window, saw his friend at his side. He frantically
started motioning him back, but the professor waved a cheery goodbye
and gave his car the gas. Fortunately, the line broke and the absent-minded
professor drove off.
The classic garage story in our family regards closing time one summer
night. Mother had come down to the garage with their two children,
Georgia and Billy. Daddy had secured everything for the night and
was talking to a good friend, Bill Clay, when it was discovered that
Little Billy (yours truly) was missing. Everyone was looking
and calling but it seemed that Billy had just disappeared. Just before
Dad called the police, Bill Clay became the hero when he discovered
me curled up inside a truck tire, fast asleep. I still remember Bill
Clay as a kind man who always gave me nickels.