A Slow Death ☺

This story was written in February 2009 as I sat in my upstairs office at The Post and watched the demolition of an icon across the street. I never got around to submitting it for publication.

by Hugh Martin

Biscoe - Red's Gas Station was an icon in Biscoe for 55 years. Built in 1954, the station stood through a lot of good times and bad. It was the site of a regular "hangout" for different people in the community.

C.E. "Red" Sedberry always seemed to be in a good mood and his hearty laugh could be heard all over the downtown of our small community. He was a fixture at my family's church, Biscoe Presbyterian, and he would serve as a town commissioner later on.

Red and his right hand man Benny Dunn pumped a lot of "Pure Oil" and Union 76 gas and fixed a lot of cars in and around that building.

As I child I used to stop at Red's as I walked home from school, usually to buy a pack of Tom's Peanut Butter Crackers for ten cents and a little "Co-Cola" for a quarter.

I was challenged to my first fight by the boy who would become my best friend out back at the "concession stand," where the cracker and drink machines stood . We took it over to the Methodist Church yard for the actual blows. I didn't know then or now why we fought. I think it was his idea.

Oh, and he whipped my butt.

Red had the first self service pumps in Biscoe. He also had the first diesel pumps. I remember the time the local ambulance pulled to the pumps and the driver proceeded to "fill 'er up" with diesel at the self serve pumps. He didn't notice that the vehicle ran on plain ol' gasoline until it was too late.

When I grew older and started driving, Red's parking lot was the hangout for all of us young "hoodlums" who chose to just "sit uptown" and talk rather than go out and get in trouble. We had our share of problems with certain police officers who didn't understand what we were up to, but it was a great place to just sit and wave at folks driving by and enjoying the company of our friends. Red never gave us any trouble. We never sat there unless he was closed and we kept the trash picked up for him.

Some of my friends that would "hang out" back in the late 1970's and early 1980's have gone a long way. Several business owners, a Superior Court Judge, attorneys, educators, writers, government workers, a Chief of Police and just plain folks frequented Red's parking lot. It kept a lot of us out of trouble.

I found my wife there.

Red and I solved a bank robbery there before it even took place, but we didn't know it at the time. We were just being good folks. At least that's what the U.S. Attorney told us when we were subpoened to Federal court in Winston-Salem back in 1984.

After Red passed away the building stood empty for a while, then was the site of a used car dealer for a few years.

If a building could have a soul, Red's was the one.

But "progress" has now claimed our icon. What stood for fifty-five years was reduced to a pile of rubble in less than two hours. Six hours later it was in a landfill in another town.

Now we will have a shiny new four lane highway to split our little town down the middle. It'll make it easier for the garbage haulers, log trucks and folks who can't be bothered with slowing down for a little hick town to put us behind them.

Goodbye old friend. At least we still have our memories of a simpler time.

Note: The first photo was taken at 8:15 am, February 13, 2009.
The second photo was taken at 9:55 am that same day . . . just 100 minutes later.