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128Murl May%u2019s Garageguy emailed me about a business in Salamonia that%u2019s supposed to look like it did when it closed decades ago,%u201d John remarked, while driving. %u201cI think we%u2019ve got time to check it out before we find a place to eat.%u201d Jay County%u2019s Salamonia was like many small Indiana towns%u2014it had seen better days, but there were still people around who called it home. Because there were few commercial buildings, we had no trouble finding the defunct garage/gas station on a corner lot. It was an aged structure with dingy white clapboards and a rambling roof above a pair of primordial gas pumps. It was our kind of place.While John set up his camera and tripod, I peered through the dusty front window where the words %u201cMurl May%u201d had been carefully painted long ago on the glass. %u201cIt%u2019s really packed inside,%u201d I eagerly reported. %u201cWhy don%u2019t you see if you can find someone to let us in,%u201d John suggested, nodding his head toward the nearby houses.As I stood on the porch of a home behind the station, looking through the screen door, I saw only an empty front room. After ringing the doorbell, a man%u2019s voice answered from deep within, %u201cCome in,%u201d it beckoned. %u201cBut I%u2019m a stranger!%u201d I countered. %u201cCome in. Come in anyway,%u201d the voice encouraged. I entered hesitantly.A spry old gentleman with a cane walked into the living room. %u201cDo you know who owns the place next door?%u201d I inquired. %u201cWell, I do,%u201d he answered cheerfully. After he introduced himself as Paul May, I explained what we were doing, and asked if he could show us the garage sometime. With a twinkle in his eye he replied, %u201cHow about now?%u201dAs I strode back to John and told him the good news, one of the wooden garage doors suddenly slid to the side. There stood Paul, beaming, next to a handsome 1925 Buick roadster. This garage, he said, had been his father%u2019s. %u201cA Paul explained that his dad had started the business back in 1912 or %u201913, and operated it until his death in 1962. According to Paul%u2019s younger brother Ralph (whom we met a few months later) in order to make ends meet during the Depression, their dad also sold generators, did plumbing and electrical work, installed windmills, and repaired water wells. Paul was a farmer, living out in the county, when Murl passed on, while Ralph and their sister had settled in Anderson. None were interested in moving back to Salamonia to take over their father%u2019s enterprise. So, the garage was locked up and left as it was. Later, after his mother died, Paul said he and his wife decided to move back into town%u2014into the May family home, adjacent to the garage, which continued to remain closed.As John and I entered, we knew at once we were in an untouched, cluttered, yet fascinating, depository of 20thcentury history. English ivy had invaded the interior and was growing over one of the counters. It added a mystical quality to it all. Piles and piles of who-knew-what lay on every surface. This was an archaeologist%u2019s dream.Murl May%u2019s Garage%u2014Salamonia, Jay Co. (756.11)