Sometimes a scene with not to many LPs tell a story. Here it is Saturday morning, most are sleeping in late, a few people driving on a humid summer morning to work, pick up supplies, or just a morning drive in their convertibles. The corner Ice Cream shop is open and already has a customer who is enjoying the morning and watching the cars go by. At the Sinclair Gas Station, full service, Joe Oaks is filling the tank of my dads new 56 Ford. Joe has an antique he's been working on for months, hoping to get it ready by August for the coming festival. Behind one can see the Agar refrigerated cars going to the towns new plant site, Agar Ham processing plant. Its a time, place, and repeated over almost every weekend in a small town I grew up with.
