American Gas: Market continues Southern tradition

By Robert Norris
of The Daily Times Staff

In an era when big-box stores symbolize the concept of one-stop shopping, there is a reminder on the way to Townsend that execution of the idea isn't measured by square footage alone.

There's still a place for time-honored Southern hospitality -- even when done with a Northern accent.

The American Gas sign at 3338 East Lamar Alexander Parkway is hard to miss. It's big and brash and American all the way.

The establishment is a throwback to the days before interstates, when Americans traveled the South on state and federal highways like U.S. 321. They stopped at roadside markets to fill up on gas, food, drink, smokes, and just about anything else they might need -- or not need, depending on what caught their fancy on the crowded counters and shelves.

They also found something that came with no charge -- companionship. With a touch of humor, of course. After all, one of the items for sale at American Gas is Septic Miracle.

June 23 will mark the one-year anniversary of American Gas. It didn't exactly open with lots of laughs.

"We had a few customers that day. The following day, June 24th, a Sunday, we had three customers all day long," said Danny Hess, who owns and operates the market with his wife, Pam. Their business partner Mark Martine runs the garage out back.

"I know she had tears in her eyes when we left. I was like, 'Oh my gosh. What have we done?' It was scary, it really was," Danny recalled.

The couple had sunk all of their retirement money into the venture, and they were a long way from home. In fact, Danny had called Blount County home many years ago. Back in the day, he lived on Old Piney Road and attended Walland Middle School. His family split when he was 14, and Danny moved back North. Over the years, he returned for vacations.

Pam was 18 the first time she joined him on one of his trips. She fell in love with the area, too. He promised her they would move down after they got married, but time sort of slipped away. His mother wanted to stay in Michigan.

"It got to the point where she got older, and she wouldn't come back. She kind of got set in her ways. But when she passed away, it looked like our chance to escape."

It was a risk. By then they had three kids: Brittany, Sydney and Noah. Moving meant uprooting the family. And as a salesman, Danny would be starting over in a new market.

"Leaving 10 years worth of contacts was just devastating."

One of the children had trouble adjusting early on. All of Danny's jobs were in Knoxville, and the commute made him miserable. Pam worked as a grocery store cashier to help make ends meet.

Meanwhile, they were looking for a little store to run. A real estate agent showed them the old Garner's Deli Gas property.

"The bad part is it wasn't an open business. Really, we had to create a store out of basically an empty building," Danny said.

Customers rule

The idea was to run a basic convenience store. That didn't fly for long. People kept asking for food. The previous establishment had been a deli, after all. A friend, Jennie, provided the Southern-style food. Sausage and bacon biscuits for breakfast and "chocolate gravy." Lunch specials like meatloaf and hamburger steak. Chocolate and peanut butter "cow pie" treats.

"She's a good Southern cook. I'd say everything she makes has a little bacon fat in it, and that's how folks like it," Danny said.

"I've tried selling bagels. I've tried selling yogurt. It doesn't happen. I had a guy looking for a bagel about a month ago, and I said, 'Buddy, if I breaded 'em and deep fried 'em, I could probably sell 'em."

He's learned to trust the old adage, give the customers what they want. These days, that means lottery tickets. In the foothills of the Smokies, that means live bait. Night crawlers and red worms are in stock now, and crickets and minnows are on the way. Hunting and fishing licenses and fishing gear are sold, and American Gas is an official big-game checking station.

"We'd never done this before, so we just kinda put things in here that we thought we needed. And then anytime somebody asks for something, if we don't have it, we jot it down and we get it."

But the charm of the place isn't the stuff, it's the people.

"Yeah. We want to be the place where folks come in the morning, ya know. And we've got a group that comes here and they look for each other. They sit and the stories, the tall tales, run deep.

"And I'm a bit of a conservative, so I've got a group of hard-core Democrats that come in here and hassle me every day. They just love it. It's all good fun. We all love each other when they leave, but they just love to come in here and chew me up a little."

Talking the talk

As he talked about his business, a customer walked past. Danny proved he's got the patter down pat as he greeted the man:

"Hey, what's goin' on?"

"I thought I heard your voice back here."

"You doin' all right?"

"How ya doin', buddy?"

"Everything goin' good?"

"It's a little slow, but we're all right."

"Are you in that new house now?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

"I'll have to come check it out one day."

"Come up and see us. It can stay slow through fishin' season, then I gotta get to work."

Danny chuckled and replied, "We appreciate ya, Jim."

The customer walked on by and Danny returned to his thoughts.

"The friends we have made here. It's better than having family here. It really is."

The Hesses defy the idea that you can't come home again. Maybe it's just a matter of making a home wherever you are.

"It's really cool for me because those same oak trees sitting over there at Walland were there when I was in middle school in 1978. That is so neat," Danny said.

"We really love it here. We're out-of-towners, but we've got some roots here. That's the neat part. I love this state. I love this country."