Sunday, September 11, 2011

George's Skelly Uniform

His name was George and he worked as an attendant at the Skelly Gas Station on the corner in Small Town, USA.  That was back in the day when a full-service experience was still in vogue; you know, when someone pumped your gas with a smile, washed the windows and checked the oil.  I barely recall that era, however I often got gas at a station in Sycamore, Illinois from one of the last dying breeds back around 1990, but that's about it.

Somehow I miss those days, even though I didn't truly experience them.  It was a time of cordial greetings, a smile and the assurance that someone was looking out for your welfare and it is a far cry from today's trip to the gas station.

The uniforms of yesteryear are now stored in the back of closets, sitting at the bottom of boxes and completely forgotten.  George's Skelly uniform, however, is still around even though he isn't.

The holes and ground-in dirt recall a hard-working man.

Sewn-in patches covering holes.

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