Pulling off the highway to grab some snacks and empty our bladders is just part of the road trip adventure. Most of the time those types of stops are unremarkable in general. This particular time though, was anything but. I’m not entirely sure that it was even real, or something I had made up in my head.
We had been driving through the night again when my hubby got so sleepy he needed to swap places with me. He typically tries to stop at facilities that he is familiar with, or at least ones that are well lit and visible from the highway. This time, however, he threw caution to the wind and chose the closest exit he could. He was exhausted and didn’t want to risk causing an accident.
To borrow a line from one of my favorite shows, we stopped to empty what was full and fill what was empty. Which usually means he fills the tank while I empty my bladder. This time, though, it didn’t feel safe enough for me to venture inside by myself. So as I sat there patiently waiting, I couldn’t help but wonder what amazing stories this place must have held. Well, of course, that got my imagination going.
I think we must have driven through a time warp or something getting off the highway. Even though this place didn’t feel safe, the look of it was straight out of the nineteen fifties. My imagination really took off once I got a glimpse of those gas pumps. The hubby finally finished up, so I hopped out of the truck to head inside with him.
Before we even stepped one foot towards the building, a loud rumble from a large group of motorcycles could be heard approaching. Now I’m not one to get nervous easily, but for some reason I felt like I suddenly needed to clutch my purse a little tighter. I think the hubby noticed my apprehension and pulled me closer to him.
A group of six or seven men pulled up and parked under the station’s blinking neon lights. They were decked out in your stereotypical biker gear. Their bikes were older looking models, nineteen fifties according to the hubby. They didn’t come inside when we did. They just hung out leaning on their bikes and talking. That made us both feel a little more at ease.
The sound of the bell over the door as we entered was enough to snap me out of my head. I was pleasantly surprised by the interior of the station. While the outside looked old and rundown, the inside looked brand new. There was a young man working behind the counter. He was flipping through a magazine leaning against the counter when we entered. He perked up when he heard us come in. He politely nodded his head at us. We nodded back and headed straight for the restrooms.
The doors to the bathrooms had funny pictures on them to let one know which door to go through. The men’s room had a picture of a boy in a tight white T-shirt, cuffed blue jeans, and black pattern leather shoes on, with a urinal behind him. There were large letters spelling out the word “men” down the other side of him. The women’s room had a similar picture, but it was a young girl with a polka dot dress, matching shoes and headscarf to boot. Very nineteen fifties style for sure.
We made such a beeline for the restrooms I had not even noticed how cute the store looked. The boy behind the counter was decked out the same outfit as the kid on the bathroom door. He had a pack of cigarettes rolled up in one of the arms of his shirt. He even tucked one behind his ear, he really did look the part.
The store itself had been converted from a small house to this absolutely adorable little fifties-style store. The layout was absolutely stunning with black and white checkered board flooring, a soda fountain complete with red bar stools. All the snacks on the shelves were things we had not seen in decades. I remember thinking they really went above and beyond for this tourist trap.
The sound of laughter roared up from the back room, catching us off guard. We didn’t realize one, that there was even a back room, and two, that there were others in the store. We took a peek to see what all the hoopla was about. Turns out there were several high school-aged kids having a grand ol time. They were playing music from the jukebox, drinking old-fashioned milkshakes, and just having fun. They must have been actors or something because they were all decked out in fifties attire as well.
The gang from the parking lot trickled in as we were picking out some snacks for the road. I felt a bit uneasy about their presence, so I hung a little closer to the hubby just in case. The bikers were being very loud and rambunctious, but were not causing any trouble at the moment. The group heard the commotion from the back room and went to check it out.
That made me feel even more nervous, so I nudged the hubby to hurry so we could get out of there. We grabbed the last of the items we wanted and made our way to the counter. We had barely finished paying when we heard the sound of shattering glass come from the back room. Quickly followed by loud arguing and yelling. The young kid who waited on us excused himself and sprinted towards the noise.
Not wanting to get involved in some kind of turf war, we bolted for the door. We were nervously giggling as we hurried into the truck. We were afraid the bikers might try to stop us from leaving. We thought they might be trying to rob the place, or worse. We couldn’t get out of there fast enough. We made it back to the highway in record time.
The next day, when we finally got back home, we told our friend about what we had witnessed. He is a police officer in that general area and we wanted to know if he had received any calls for a robbery or something worse. He looked at us like we were crazy or speaking a foreign language. He told us that station closed down about ten years after the homeowner converted it into the gas station. He said there was an electrical fire from the old wiring that had been in the kitchen.
He said it took the lives of about a dozen or so high school kids including the clerk! Sadly, most of them were found huddled in the back room. It was a horrible tragedy that the town never recovered from. He said not only did the station close but half the town left as well. He said there was no way we stopped at that place, we must be mistaken.
The hubby and I just looked at each other in disbelief. How could we possibly know all that information if we had not actually been there? Did we really experience some kind of time jump, or was it a joint hallucination? We know we’ll have to drive back there someday. After all, this mystery definitely needs solving.
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