Gate

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At dawn one morning, a delivery driver pulled up to Gate’s gas station and noticed something odd in the parking lot—a mysterious box wrapped in old newspaper. Curious but cautious, he took a closer look inside only to find… Inside was an ancient voodoo doll with a note scribbled on a torn envelope: ‘Stick pin in heart when gas is low.’ The delivery driver laughed it off, stuck the pin in his own shirt pocket, and drove away. Months later, whenever his car ran out of gas, he’d pull over at Gate, grab the doll from his glove compartment, and whisper, ‘Gate, my friend, you’ve got gas!’—and sure enough, someone always came along to fill his tank.

2. At dawn one morning, a delivery driver pulled up to Gate's gas station and noticed something unusual—a small dog, wagging its tail excitedly, kept running towards him from inside the station. The driver smiled, leaned down, and picked up the little fellow. The dog seemed happy to be held, licking his face gently. Turning around, he saw an old man waving from behind the counter with a big smile on his face. ‘That’s our resident greeter,’ chuckled the owner. The delivery driver shook his head, laughing, as he drove off—knowing that Gate Station would always welcome both cars and their drivers with a friendly paw.

3. At midnight on a stormy night, a delivery driver pulled up to Gate’s gas station. The neon sign flickered ominously as he stepped out into the driving rain. Suddenly, from inside the station, came the sound of an old country tune playing on an ancient jukebox. The delivery driver, curious now, cautiously approached the door. Inside, an elderly gentleman in overalls was dancing clumsily to the music, waving a ragged handkerchief. ‘It’s Hank,’ he said, smiling. ‘He plays that same song every night.’ And so, amidst laughter and goodwill, the delivery driver became a regular at Gate’s, where old tunes and new friends made for a memorable visit.

4. At dusk one evening, a delivery driver pulled up to Gate’s gas station for a quick fill-up. As he approached the counter, he noticed an old, dust-covered bicycle helmet sitting inconspicuously among the snacks and newspapers. Curious, he asked the attendant where it came from. ‘Oh, that?’ replied the attendant with a smile. ‘That’s been there forever.’ The delivery driver shrugged and said, 'Well, if it's been there forever, maybe I’ll leave it.' He placed his tank full and walked out. Later that night, as the moon rose above the pumps, the old helmet winked at him from its spot—an unseen guardian of Gate's gas station.