Thank you, Chief, for your service station
By Charles P. Eberson
Senior Moments
My parents, Bernard and Yetta, settled in Atlantic City in 1950 before moving to Ventnor and eventually to Hanover Avenue in Margate. My wife and I have been residents of Ventnor for 45 years.
Over a span of 70-plus years, there have been many changes to the local area in the name of “progress,” and a few special ones have stayed with me. There was the “log house” at Longport Point – a structure that perhaps would have looked more at home as a “great camp” on some pristine lake in New York’s Adirondack mountains. Or Dr. Roger’s classic English Tudor home in Margate, resembling homes in England’s Lake District, one block from Casel’s Supermarket. Then, of course, there was my boyhood home in Margate, known locally as the “house with the lions” for the four concrete lions guarding the property like sentinels. All were torn down and replaced with more modern structures.
Soon, another Downbeach property will suffer a similar fate: Taylor’s Liberty Service Center, where I enjoyed a few years of my misspent youth.
This service station on Ventnor Avenue, between Franklin and Exeter avenues in Margate, dates back to 1924. The Taylors have operated it since 1959 through several iterations – Esso, Exxon, Citgo, Gulf, and most recently, Liberty.
The owner came to be known as “Chief” since he always said there were too many chiefs working there, until he made it abundantly clear that as the owner, there was only one Chief. He was a loud, barrel-chested man who did not suffer fools gladly. He called me “Charlie Brown,” and whenever I pulled into the station, I would hear my name bellowed out.
Chief’s son, Bud, worked at the station. So he, me, and an assorted cadre of high school friends would use this gas station as our “clubhouse” on the weekends, hanging out and working on our cars. This was the era of muscle cars, and we were caught up in the frenzy, heading out to the 8-mile drag strip in Pleasantville on the weekends. At this strip, anyone could race what they brought, even your dad’s Ford station wagon if you wished, and some did. Bud brought his 1969 Plymouth Road Runner, and we were his pit crew.
Our activities at Taylor’s service station often ran into the wee hours of the morning and often caught the attention of the Margate police. It seems like drag racing through the lot among gas pumps was not looked upon kindly by the police – nor by Chief when they woke him up and summoned him to the station. Before long, the police knew us all by name, and we knew them. In hindsight, we were treated more kindly than we deserved. Actually, we feared Chief more than the police.
As always, time moved on and we became somewhat respectable, with no police records to speak of. Chief also moved on and Bud became the owner of Taylor’s Exxon, keeping the tradition of checking the oil and cleaning the windshields when cars came in for gas.
When my mum was in her 70s, she would drop her car off at Taylor’s and Bud would give her a ride home, then make sure her car was dropped off when it was ready. I am sure he provided that service to other elderly customers as well.
When I brought my car in, I would pull a blank service sheet, fill out what service I needed, and leave it on the desk with my keys. Recently, the blade on my lawnmower was so rusted on that all my efforts to remove it were unsuccessful. Not knowing what to do, I loaded the mower into my van and brought it to Taylor’s. Bud’s son stepped up, put an air wrench on the nut and managed not only to remove, he also installed the new one I had brought with me.
Sadly, the tradition of privately owned service stations is becoming a thing of the past. Rapidly evolving technology, the expensive equipment, training, updates to support it, as well as soaring insurance rates and environmental regulations make such ownership very challenging.
The future of the property has been a hot button on local social media, with swirling rumors and innuendos. But before too long, the place now known as Taylor & Son Liberty Service Center will become a memory as faded as the photos in their office, tracing the long history of one of Margate’s storied family businesses.
But do me a favor… in the future, if you see a car smoking the tires across the lot, please don’t call the police.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
