The gas pump at the store was located by the northeast corner of the store building. It was the type that required you to hand-pump ten gallons up into the large glass cylinder and then it was dispensed by gravity through the hose when the nozzle was squeezed. Five gallons for a dollar was common and on special it was six gallons for a dollar.
The ground by the pump slanted down to the north. I suppose I was four or so and I would give the cars a little push from behind when they pulled away from the pump. I’m sure I was warned not to do this, but I thought I was being a big help getting these cars on their way. Ralph Klingberg had gassed up and when he came out of the store and got in his car, I got behind to give it the usual send-off.
Ralph didn’t see that I was helping and as the car started to roll ahead, I started to push. The problem was Ralph had it in reverse and was going to back up to the air hose located at the south end of the building. I fell down directly behind the left rear wheel and the car backed over both my legs before my screaming brought him to a stop. Nothing was broken but I did have some bruised and skinned up legs for a while. Thank goodness cars were smaller and lighter in the early thirties, and it was another lesson I learned the hard way.
I think Ralph was as shook up as I was, thinking about what could have happened. I had to find other ways to “help out” without getting into such dangerous predicaments.
By Merland D. Howe, 2000.
-oOo-
Anderson Family History 