THEN:

NOW:

It appears now to be abandoned, like many old neighborhood stations, victims of the self service megapumps and the WAWAs and the 7-11s. We always seem so surprised and so saddened that everything changes, but when and where has anything ever stayed exactly as it was? We haven't stayed locked in time, so why should we expect the structures of our youth to be any different? Sometimes it is better not to go back and have a look.

- Dave Arnold ('65) of VA - 05/12/03
Thanks, Dave!

- Dave Spriggs ('64) of VA - 07/30/03
Thanks, Dave!

You mentioned in the newsletter on January 7, 2006, that you "started your teen years in the 1300 block of 25th Street."
You probably knew my father, Pop Arnold, who owned the Esso station at 1300 25th Street. That was a great neighborhood.
 

Dave, not only do I remember your dad’s ESSO station but I remember you, as a youngster. I mentioned you to my mother
(Estelle) and she remembered you also. She is 86 (what a mind). You see, I lived just down the block at 1330 25th Street.
The house has since been destroyed. We lived just across the street from Doug and Wayne Johnson. We moved in the
year the station was renovated. I believe that I was in the third grade.

When we first moved in, I didn’t like going down to the station, I was so young and the only time I was allowed to go
there was to get a two gallon can full on Kerosene. At that time, I remember, it was 14 cents a gallon. The can was
so heavy for me that I had to stop every few feet to set it down and rest. But we had to have it for heat.

What great times I had there as I got older - going out back of the station and draining a bunch of old oil cans into an empty,
to get oil that I could use on my bicycle and lawn mower. I spent my time between Pops ESSO and Bun's Texaco on the
corner of 25th and Parish Avenue. There were some horse shoe pits behind Bun's and some of us boys spent
many, many hours there pitching. All of the bad guys hung around Bun's with their fast hot rods, while your dad's
station catered to a different clientele.

I really liked your dad’s station because it was a little higher class station, especially after the remodeling.
I hung around there to the point that whoever was in charge would sometimes run me off. I became quite
knowledgeable in auto mechanics by getting such a good base of knowledge from watching and listing to the "Experts".
There was a garage behind your station that I just loved to hang around. If you remember they built "Stock Cars" there.
One that I remember and watched being built and painted was a number 23D. I watched in amazement as this guy
(who would now be call a graphic artist) painted the numbers on it in such a way that it represented "3D" which was just
coming out in the movies at that time. Also, there was a family at, I think, 1324 25th Street, who also had a garage
behind their house where they were always working on a race car. This is where I learned how to weld as a youngster.
For the life of me I can’t remember their name, but the father also was a CRT bus driver until the "Strike". During the strike
they would have movies at their house (with popcorn) and charge 10 to 15 cents a person just to help pay the bills.

Don’t know if you were old enough to remember that there was a "Race Track" on Chestnut Avenue on the north edge
of Copeland Park. It was a short dirt track, which went out of business when Langley Speedway opened. This is where
most of the back yard stock cars ran. The old track had lots of holes in it.

I’ll stop here. I could go on for hours about the neighborhood: Roger's, Dick's Bar, the grocery store on the corner, and
even the old yellow house where this old lady would come out a yell at any kid who just walked by on the side walk
in front of her house. Man, she was frightening.

God bless.
 

Thanks for the step back to Stuart Gardens...my dad worked full time at NASA (f/k/a NACA) and part time for your dad. 
I remember going to the station and getting the classic Moon Pie!  What a treat.