While driving to Mazama at Christmas, we needed gas after Blewitt Pass, and found a small, old-fashioned looking gas station. The inside was dark and cluttered with auto and motorcycle parts and lots of other junk. The smell of stale tobacco, motor oil and dusty boxes reminded me of Soren's garage in Lily Lake. Dad would stop there after church on Sundays to buy the Sunday paper and some candy. Brent remembered that it was usually Chuckles, jelly-type candies with 5 flavors per pack. We each got one piece. How did we decide who got which piece? I know the red ones were my favorite.