A Gas Pump Jockey at N.E. 7th and Fremont
What is a Gas Pump Jockey? Unknowingly, that's what I was, when, one summer in my early teens, I worked at a service station on the northeast corner of 7th Avenue and Fremont Street. That job came about because a group of neighborhood teens, of which I was one, would frequent the playground that was located within the northwest corner of Irving Park, across the street from the gas station. There, in addition to the playground having a one-wall handball court designed for two games, one on each side of the wall, it had horizontal chin-up/push-up/somersault bars, and a set of parallel bars. Most challenging, it also had traveling ringers suspended by steel chains, from which we would swing from one ring to the next and practice a combination of arm pulls and leg swings; while on another set of two ringers, we would practice flyaways and somersaults. What ever happened to those fitness and muscle toning amenities that we had in the 1940s? Today, that space is still a playground...with basketball courts.
After a good workout, I would usually walk past that service station on my way to Watkins Drugstore, a teen hangout. One day, I decided to go into the station and asked if they needed any help. To my surprise, I was hired…on the spot! Although I do not recall the name of that independent station, or for whom I worked, a search (thanks to Steve Schreiber) in the Portland City Directories show the name as Clifton's Service Station, 703 N.E. Fremont Street, with the owner listed as Alvin Dillman. Our business neighbor, next-door, was the Bruseth and Johnsen Paint Shop, at 711 N.E. Fremont Street. Today, the Service Station and Paint Shop are no longer there. Rerun, a Consignment Shop and Discount Store, now occupy both spaces.
Across the street, on the northwest corner, was another independent service station; the name, I do not remember. However, I recently learned from Kristine (Wunsch) Zelinka that her father Henry "Dixie" Wunsch had worked there. Today, at that location, you will find a two-unit residence.
Just three blocks to the west, at the intersection of Union (now Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.) and Fremont, there were two other service stations. One, on the northeast corner, was a Standard station, now occupied by a commercial building; the other, on the southeast corner, was a Chevron station, now a vacant lot. Although those displays of station-to-station proximity are somewhat of a rarity today, back then, they were very common.
Moving forward to 1970, the U.S. had more than 220,000 Full-Service gas stations and 89.2 million cars, which meant one gas station for every 405 cars. Most notable, those were Full-Service gas stations. Then, beginning with the gas crisis in 1973–1974, gas station attendants ceased washing the windshield, checking the oil, and pumping gas. To emphasize the point, in 2010, there were approximately 140 million cars and 115,000 gas stations, one station for every 1,200 cars. Of that total, 107,000 stations (93%) were at convenience stores, where self-service was the norm. Today, including minimum-service gas stations in Oregon and New Jersey, where the attendant operates the pumps, you would be hard pressed to find a Full-Service gas station…Anywhere! Self-service gas stations rule the day.
I can state with pride that Clifton's was a Full-Service gas station, with an emphasis on Full-Service! Back then, Full-Service meant that the Gas Pump Jockey not only pumped the gas, but also cleaned the windshield, checked the oil, checked the water level in the radiator, checked the fluid level in the battery, and made sure the tires had the proper amount of air pressure. In other words, to make sure that those systems were within manufacturers specifications. It was also important to explain to the customer that this station specialized in oil change and lubrication, and had an expert on duty, whose specialty was engine tune-up and repair.
Oil change, lubrication, and engine tune-up and repair, following each automaker's elaborate schedule, were the money-makers for the station. Whereas pumping gas, at 10 to 12 cents a gallon, depending on the grade, was more of a service that brought customers into the station. Therefore, it was important that the expert was free to concentrate on his specialty; and not be distracted with pumping gas. That was the responsibility of the Gas Pump Jockey. When customers drove into the station, I was there to greet them.
Considering we were in the midst of WWII, when gas rationing was in effect, all cars had to have a Gas Sticker on the windshield before they could purchase gasoline. An "A" sticker, meant that the car was allotted up to four gallons a week; a "B" sticker, up to eight gallons a week; and for a "C" sticker, issued to professionals such as physicians, nurses, dentists, ministers, the allotment depended upon their need. After the customer told me how many gallons they wanted and the grade of gasoline (regular or ethyl), I would go to that particular gas pump and start working the pump handle; whereby the pump would draw gasoline from an underground storage tank, beneath the station pavement, and pump it into the glass tank on top of the gas pump. As shown in the Illustration, the "visible" gas pump had a calibrated, clear glass tank on top, into which the gas would be measured, with good precision. When the gas level reached the mark for the requested number of gallons, I would stop pumping. The customer could then verify the amount of gas they were purchasing. With the glass tank positioned on top of the pump, the gasoline was then free to flow through the attached hose and nozzle into the customer's tank, by gravity.
After a good workout, I would usually walk past that service station on my way to Watkins Drugstore, a teen hangout. One day, I decided to go into the station and asked if they needed any help. To my surprise, I was hired…on the spot! Although I do not recall the name of that independent station, or for whom I worked, a search (thanks to Steve Schreiber) in the Portland City Directories show the name as Clifton's Service Station, 703 N.E. Fremont Street, with the owner listed as Alvin Dillman. Our business neighbor, next-door, was the Bruseth and Johnsen Paint Shop, at 711 N.E. Fremont Street. Today, the Service Station and Paint Shop are no longer there. Rerun, a Consignment Shop and Discount Store, now occupy both spaces.
Across the street, on the northwest corner, was another independent service station; the name, I do not remember. However, I recently learned from Kristine (Wunsch) Zelinka that her father Henry "Dixie" Wunsch had worked there. Today, at that location, you will find a two-unit residence.
Just three blocks to the west, at the intersection of Union (now Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.) and Fremont, there were two other service stations. One, on the northeast corner, was a Standard station, now occupied by a commercial building; the other, on the southeast corner, was a Chevron station, now a vacant lot. Although those displays of station-to-station proximity are somewhat of a rarity today, back then, they were very common.
Moving forward to 1970, the U.S. had more than 220,000 Full-Service gas stations and 89.2 million cars, which meant one gas station for every 405 cars. Most notable, those were Full-Service gas stations. Then, beginning with the gas crisis in 1973–1974, gas station attendants ceased washing the windshield, checking the oil, and pumping gas. To emphasize the point, in 2010, there were approximately 140 million cars and 115,000 gas stations, one station for every 1,200 cars. Of that total, 107,000 stations (93%) were at convenience stores, where self-service was the norm. Today, including minimum-service gas stations in Oregon and New Jersey, where the attendant operates the pumps, you would be hard pressed to find a Full-Service gas station…Anywhere! Self-service gas stations rule the day.
I can state with pride that Clifton's was a Full-Service gas station, with an emphasis on Full-Service! Back then, Full-Service meant that the Gas Pump Jockey not only pumped the gas, but also cleaned the windshield, checked the oil, checked the water level in the radiator, checked the fluid level in the battery, and made sure the tires had the proper amount of air pressure. In other words, to make sure that those systems were within manufacturers specifications. It was also important to explain to the customer that this station specialized in oil change and lubrication, and had an expert on duty, whose specialty was engine tune-up and repair.
Oil change, lubrication, and engine tune-up and repair, following each automaker's elaborate schedule, were the money-makers for the station. Whereas pumping gas, at 10 to 12 cents a gallon, depending on the grade, was more of a service that brought customers into the station. Therefore, it was important that the expert was free to concentrate on his specialty; and not be distracted with pumping gas. That was the responsibility of the Gas Pump Jockey. When customers drove into the station, I was there to greet them.
Considering we were in the midst of WWII, when gas rationing was in effect, all cars had to have a Gas Sticker on the windshield before they could purchase gasoline. An "A" sticker, meant that the car was allotted up to four gallons a week; a "B" sticker, up to eight gallons a week; and for a "C" sticker, issued to professionals such as physicians, nurses, dentists, ministers, the allotment depended upon their need. After the customer told me how many gallons they wanted and the grade of gasoline (regular or ethyl), I would go to that particular gas pump and start working the pump handle; whereby the pump would draw gasoline from an underground storage tank, beneath the station pavement, and pump it into the glass tank on top of the gas pump. As shown in the Illustration, the "visible" gas pump had a calibrated, clear glass tank on top, into which the gas would be measured, with good precision. When the gas level reached the mark for the requested number of gallons, I would stop pumping. The customer could then verify the amount of gas they were purchasing. With the glass tank positioned on top of the pump, the gasoline was then free to flow through the attached hose and nozzle into the customer's tank, by gravity.
When checking the oil, if the oil level on the dipstick was at or below the "Add Oil" mark, I would show the dipstick to the customer and recommend they add a quart of oil. Upon their approval, at 25 cents a quart, I would get a quart bottle of oil, from a rack of bottles that were filled first thing in the morning with S.A.E. 30W oil at the Bulk Motor Oil Dispenser, remove the cap from the metal pour-spout, and pour the oil into the engine. Then, while the oil was draining, clean the windshield; and again check the dipstick to make sure the oil level was within specifications. Clifton's was a true, Full-Service gas station.
Big oil companies, such as Standard and Chevron, had the resources to purchase the more modern, automated pumps; which had a digital display that showed the amount of gasoline being purchased, to within one-tenth of a gallon. To alleviate doubt that the customer was actually getting the gas they were purchasing, the pump had a small glass globe, with a turbine inside that would spin when the gas began flowing into their tank. The big oil companies also had their own brand of engine oil...in convenient, quart cans.
Although it was not always easy for independent gas stations to compete with the big oil companies, they did have one advantage; their livelihood was dependant upon superior service. With the incentive and capacity to provide that superior service, a loyal customer base was easily established: The worth of the Gas Pump Jockey.
Every Saturday, which was the day I received my pay in cash, my first destination after work was Watkins Drugstore. There, I would reward myself with a most wanted indulgence, a butterscotch sundae, topped with whip cream and a cherry. I am not certain of the exact cost, but I would guess it was in the 15 to 25 cent range. Delicious memories of youth are still with us, no matter what our age may be.
Big oil companies, such as Standard and Chevron, had the resources to purchase the more modern, automated pumps; which had a digital display that showed the amount of gasoline being purchased, to within one-tenth of a gallon. To alleviate doubt that the customer was actually getting the gas they were purchasing, the pump had a small glass globe, with a turbine inside that would spin when the gas began flowing into their tank. The big oil companies also had their own brand of engine oil...in convenient, quart cans.
Although it was not always easy for independent gas stations to compete with the big oil companies, they did have one advantage; their livelihood was dependant upon superior service. With the incentive and capacity to provide that superior service, a loyal customer base was easily established: The worth of the Gas Pump Jockey.
Every Saturday, which was the day I received my pay in cash, my first destination after work was Watkins Drugstore. There, I would reward myself with a most wanted indulgence, a butterscotch sundae, topped with whip cream and a cherry. I am not certain of the exact cost, but I would guess it was in the 15 to 25 cent range. Delicious memories of youth are still with us, no matter what our age may be.
Source
Contributed by Melvin W. Cook, November 27, 2012.