Our granddaughter Clara, age 14, is looking for her first job. Clara will be 16 in July. Thought she had one at a pizza place, but they then changed their minds. She is still looking, but says it's hard to get a job because of her age. Got me to thinking about my first real job.
I did have some small jobs when I was younger. Mostly cutting the lawn for the neighbors who lived across the street in Havertown, PA. Never did have a paper route.
My first "real job" was the summer of 1952, age 16. My dad was a district manger for Mobil Oil in Buffalo NY. He got me a summer job working in a neighborhood gas station that was about eight blocks from our 2nd floor flat on Linwood Ave. I could ride my bike to work.
The operators of the gas station were Jim Landis and Clarence "Pruney" Blackwell. I never did find out how he got the nickname Pruney. They actually operated two stations, the one near my then home, and another one further out where I later worked when we moved to the suburbs.
The station was open 7 days a week, from 7AM until 11PM. The work shifts were odd. Each shift worked from noon until 11PM one day, and then came back from 7AM until noon the following day. Then those workers had 24 hours off, from noon that day until noon the following day. This was good because in the summer I could then go to the beach or do other things, and did not have to worry about getting up early to get to work the next day.
There was no "self serve" or "full serve" in those days. It was just a "service station". When you came in for gas, an attendant would hustle out and ask you how much you wanted. "Fill'er up" or just a certain cash amount. I don't remember any gasoline credit cards or debit cards or any kind of "card". After the gas was pumped, we would automatically wash your windows, and then ask if you wanted to have the oil and water checked, or the tire pressure.
I was very nervous the first time a customer drove in, and it was my turn wait on them. I learned how to pump gas, check the oil and water levels, wash cars, put a car up on the lube rack, lube cars and change the oil and filter, fix a flat tire and mount a new tire, replace a rusted out muffler, clean and adjust the spark plugs, make change, and put a rod down into the underground tanks to see if we needed a delivery soon.
The winters in Buffalo can be pretty severe. One of the worst parts of the job was doing lube jobs in the winter. The car was up on the lift rack. Due to the slush and ice on the streets, there were patches of ice on the underside of the car (even icicles), that would start to melt in the garage, and the very cold drops would fall into your face as you looked up to find the lube points under the car.
I was paid about 90 cents an hour. Gasoline was about 25 cents a gallon, and so was a quart of oil. Cars burnt a lot more oil in those days than they do now. When you got a new car, you were supposed to drive it under 50 mph for the first 3,000 miles to "work in the engine".
At the end of the summer, Jim and Pruney knew that I had been saving most of my earnings, and they asked me what I was going to do with the money. I told them that I wanted to get a car. They told me that if I did get a car, I would be back asking for weekend work during the school year so I could have money for gas and oil for the car.
My mother and I bought the car jointly. It was a red 1947 Ford two-door sedan with a straight-6 engine. I never paid for insurance or registration; I guess my parents did. Jim and Pruney were right. Within a few weeks, I was back working one or two shifts on the weekends during the school year, and full time for at least the remainder of my high school years. Also there, I could do my own oil changes and lubes and minor repairs, on my own time.
But it was worth it. Because I was older than most of the kids in my class, I had both a driver's license and wheels, which made me more in demand among my peers. Not sure when my mother ever got to use the car.
Pruney and Jim were great bosses to work for. They always treated me well, maybe because I was a pretty dependable and hard worker, or maybe because my dad was a big macher with Mobil Oil, or maybe both.
Clara, I hope your first boss, whoever that is, is a good one.
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