Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt Revealed By Clive Cussler with Craig ...

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Fortunately, Barbara and I matched together like a pair of old socks.
After a honeymoon in Ensenada, Mexico, we set up housekeeping as if we'd been doing it for years.
Barbara worked in the personnel department of the Southern California Gas Company, while I filled gas
tanks for the Union Oil Company. I didn't finish college because I still hated school and had no idea of
what I wanted to be when and if I ever grew up.
Six months later, a longtime friend and neighbor, Dick Klein, who married Carolyn Johnston, the lady
who introduced Barbara to me, and I became partners and leased a Mobile Oil station on Ramona
Boulevard and Garvey Avenue in Alhambra. No more than seventy-five feet separated us from the fence
bordering the San Bernardino Freeway. Between us, Dick and I had less than a year's experience, and
I've always suspected the only reason the company allowed us to operate the newly built station was that
no other dealer wanted a location that was difficult for heavy traffic to reach. Dick and I, however, saw
potential, since it was the last stop for gas before entering the freeway, and it was also in a neighborhood
where we grew up and knew many of the residents.
The three and a half years I pumped gas was an interesting milestone toward a writing career. So
much happened, I could easily write a book on our experiences. We were held up, burglarized,
shortchanged, cheated, fleeced and vandalized. A drunken driver missed the turn and crashed into the
station, luckily missing everyone who was working that day. You can bet our insurance adjuster became
tired of seeing our faces on a continual basis.
We fought constantly with the company over promotions they tried to cram down our throats, much
like fast-food chains do today with their franchisees.
We put in ungodly fifteen-hour days. As time went on and we could afford to hire help, this dropped
to ten hours a day.
We gave aid to more accident victims than I care to remember. A young girl, who walked her dog
past the station every afternoon, used to stop and talk. One afternoon, I looked out from my office and
saw her lying in the street after she was struck by a car. Dick and I took care of the dog and made her
comfortable until the ambulance arrived. She survived. We rushed to perform first aid for a young boy
who was struck on his bicycle. He survived, too.