My first memories of Sinclair as a youngster: I lived outside a very small town in southern Iowa-less than 100 population, but still had a hardware, general merchandise grocery, three gas stations, a Farmall dealer and a cafe. The Sinclair staion sit on a corner, like many small town stations did. It was owned by a crotchety old man, Glen Morgan. Most of the time he was amicable and people put up with him. But I remember every year on Halloween night he would sit outside in the drive up of his station with a loaded (At least every one thought it was) 20gauge single shot 37 Winchester "protecting" his property. Us kids always steered clear of him that night. Funny how one word can bring back memories.