Editor’s note: This is another column in Bill Boyd’s new series, “The Way It Was,” about growing up in Marysville. Bill continues to work with the Union County Historical Society to obtain information for his stories.
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During the late 1930s, my dad almost always bought his gasoline for our car at the Sohio station on East 5th Street. I once asked him if they had better gas then the other stations in town. He told me that gasoline is gasoline and there is no real difference between gas at one station or another. Nevertheless, at that time, a person almost always went to the same station, let’s say Sohio.
I think the reason he bought his gas there is that he really liked the man who ran the station. I don’t know what his name was, but every time we stopped in there to get gas, the two of them would talk while the man pumped gas, and while he checked the oil and washed the windshield. I think the two of them became pretty good friends.
They talked about a lot of different things, but most of their talk was about fishing. They were both avid fly fishermen, and they both tied their own flies. As I look back, I must confess I don’t know if my dad really went there to buy gas or to talk about fishing and tying flies.
But remember I said he “almost always” bought his gas at Sohio. There were times when my dad went to other gas stations in town. You see, ”gas wars” were pretty common during the late 1930s. Let’s say gasoline was selling at about 15.9 cents a gallon. Then suddenly, Sinclair stations cut their price to 14.9 cents. Oh boy, the next day Sunoco stations might cut the price to 13.9. When that happened, where do you think my dad bought his gasoline? You guessed it – he went to the Sunoco station.
You might wonder why my dad made a special trip to another gas station to save only two cents a gallon. In today’s dollars, that two cents is worth about 60 cents per gallon. If he bought 15 gallons of gas, he made a $9 savings.
But those gas wars didn’t last long. So in a couple weeks or so, my dad was back at the Sohio station filling his tank as he and his friend talked about fishing.
And he would continue buying his gas there until the next gas war. That’s just the way it was in the 1930s.
Those wishing to contact Bill Boyd can e-mail him at williamboyd514@gmail.com