Starting in the summer of 1947, there were new proprietors of the Sylvan Store. Mr. Gale "Mac" McAfee and his wife Esther, leased the store from Rob and Anne Nelson who had moved to a little house that looked like a barn located on a bay across from Shorewood. Rob got a good job at an ordinance depot as a civilian employee near Fort Lewis in Tacoma. The change of proprietorship kind of upset my apple cart because I didn't have any prior knowledge about the switch until I walked into the store and there were Mac and Esther.

            I had known Esther from the first day I landed on Fox Island because she was Aunt Doshia's and Uncle Ed Erickson's daughter and lived in the Sylvan Lodge, but I hadn't much exposure to Mac because he had been overseas as a soldier during the war. He sort of reminded me of Rob Nelson because of his short haircut and easy going-type of personality. After a few days of exposure to the new proprietors I felt a l little more comfortable with them.

            Both Bart and Bob would wash and wax their cars and let me help, so when I noticed Mac and Esther's 1946 Buick coupe was losing its new car luster, I proposed to Mac that he pay me to wash and wax his vehicle. He agreed to pay me $1 to wash the car, and, if I did a good job, he'd think about the waxing. I brought a bucket with Ivory Flakes, a sea sponge, bath towel and chamois used by my brothers to wash their cars and set to work on the McAfee's automobile. My brothers made washing a car look pretty easy, but I quickly discovered my size limited my reach so had to climb onto the roof, hood and trunk of the car in order to scrub those places with the sponge. After over two hours of exhaustive labor, the job was completed, and I approached Mac for my money.

          "I'd say that's about a 50-cent wash job. O.K.?" My heart dropped to my stomach, because I'd
            put in $10 worth of effort. "- - But, I'll stick to our original agreement and give you a dollar."

            My heart returned to its normal position as I followed him into the store.

            "Do you want it in quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies, or tax tokens?"

            "Can I have it as a dollar bill?"

            "I s'pose so," he said with a smile on his face as he pushed the "No Sale" key on the cash
              register and fished out a well worn bill which I folded and put into my pocket.

            "How come you got so many dents in your fenders?"

            "That's because I got used to driving a Jeep in the Army, and I'm having trouble getting used
             to driving a civilian vehicle." he said with a laugh. "Do you still want to wax it? I'll give you $2
             for that, and I'll buy the wax."

            "I'll think about it. Maybe in a week or two, when I'm rested up. It takes my brothers all day to
             wax their cars, so it'll take me longer, and I wear out faster."

            "How about $3? You can work on it next week and don't have to do it in a day."

            "Okay, you've got a deal!"

            Leaving the store, I retrieved the first dollar I'd ever made and contemplated having it mounted under glass and placing it on my bedroom wall.

            Gathering my car washing supplies, I returned to the farm, thinking about the prospect of earning $3.00 next week. I'd have to get out my thousand-page Johnson-Smith catalogue to see how much stuff that amount of money could buy. Or, I might buy a pocket watch from the Sears Roebuck or Montgomery Ward catalogues.