You can find them by the dozen at almost every doll show. Those hard plastic dolls from the 50’s. They have no markings, most only have joints in the arms, and the clothes are often missing or in poor condition. They are called gas station dolls because many gas stations give them away as promotional items with a full tank of gas. The same type of dolls also came with boxes of chocolates or other promotional gimmicks.

My aunt Shirley used to collect these types of dolls. Now, my Aunt Shirley wasn’t your typical grown-up aunt. They didn’t have labels in those days for people like my aunt, but even when she was very young, I understood that even though Aunt Shirley was my mother’s age, she was really just a little girl like me.

Friends and relatives brought Shirley dolls as gifts when they came to visit or after they had been away. It was never difficult for her to know what she would like for her birthday or for Christmas. Each doll that arrived was admired and amazed, and then carefully placed in a place of honor inside a glass-fronted display case in the living room.

I remember standing in front of that case looking at all those beautiful dolls. My fingers longed to touch and play with them. But I knew without a doubt that I dared not even open those doors, or I would risk the wrath of an entire family of adults. It just didn’t seem fair that all those wonderful dolls were just for looking at and never for playing with.

Many years later, I inherited some of those same dolls that I had admired through glass. As an adult, he was completely unaware of its value. For me they were still precious things that had to be protected from dirty little fingers. An occasion arose when a doll appraiser came to our little community and offered his services for free appraisals. I took my prized “antique” dolls to be appraised in some hidden room in the back of the local public library.

I must say I was surprised, but not really disappointed, by the appraiser’s response. He explained to me that these dolls were commonly given away with a tank of gas and that they can be found in large numbers and therefore have little or no monetary value. At that moment, my vision of childhood was somewhat shaken, when I realized how many people had tried to bring a little pleasure into my aunt’s life, and that by treating their gifts as if they were a treasure, somehow they were letting Aunt Shirley feel that she was a treasure. also.

Although my Gas Station figures are not worth a lot of money, they are some of my favorite pieces in my collection of family memorabilia and heirlooms.