Hobbs, N.M., in 1932 was like nothing I had ever seen: A dirty, no-pavement, oil town with no place to live. Oil wells pumped all over town, and it smelled like rotten eggs. We found a shotgun house, outdoor plumbing and shared outside shower (cold), but we were glad to get it.
Jenkins went to work for Mr. Weaver. He couldn’t pay us, and we actually went hungry. After two or three weeks, he came home sick one day and stayed in bed the next. In the afternoon, a big car stopped outside and a knock at the door brought John Stinson, the biggest drycleaner in Lubbock.
Jenkins had worked for him the year before, and Mr. Stinson liked him. He offered Jenkins a job as plant manager (translated: “do everything”) at the unimaginable salary of $15 a week, for only 16 hours a day! But don’t think he didn’t grab it, and he was tickled pink to do so.
That had to be the most wonderful day I ever had in my life — a clean city, paved streets, and green trees and grass. It was as close to heaven as I thought I would ever be.
We rode around looking for an apartment and finally found a one-room furnished, share-the-bath-with-six-other-people, for $10 a month. Jenkins walked to Stinson’s, which was at 1216 Broadway. He worked from 6:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m., but never said he was tired or complained. Jenkins also got a raise, to $30 a week!
He worked two more years for Stinson’s when a man who had worked there went to Rockdale, Texas, to put in a cleaners and wanted J.J. to come join him. So we went to Rockdale, about 60 miles southwest of Waco. We stayed there six months and then we came back to Lubbock. J.J. and a Mr. Walker bought Bray’s Cleaners.
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That was a busy year. We were doing retail and wholesale dyeing for cleaners all over the U.S. and cleaning for Lubbock [now Reese] Air Force Base. J.J. would do the dyeing, and I would package and mail it.
From the memoirs of Mrs. J.J. TippsTipps EquipmentLubbock, Texas
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My dad, Luke Young, ran away from home at age 13, hopping a freight car leaving Spencer, N.C. While in the train yard in Danville, Va., he fell under a moving train and lost his left arm. Too embarrassed to return to school, he took a job in a Salisbury cleaners, scrubbing pants cuffs with white gasoline.
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The business model was for Mom to provide personal attention and Dad to take the time to get out stains other cleaners left in. On occasion, I can still hear my Dad’s voice saying, “I didn’t train you that way — one more try will get it out.”
Martin YoungYoung CleanersConcord, N.C.
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