Rick Sebak produces, writes and narrates documentaries for WQED tv13, as well as national specials for PBS. His programs are available online or call 800/274-1307.

An Amazing Feller

Stopping by a Castle Shannon landmark results in an unexpected people story.

It would be hard to calculate how many times I've gone by Feller's Garage in Castle Shannon. It's on Route 88, just south of John McGinnis' store, just up beyond the railroad trestle, and it's for sale.

I started paying serious attention to it last year as I was beginning to work on a new PBS documentary about the Lincoln Highway. I was appreciating all sorts of roadside stuff. Look at that great old funky service station! It looks pure and oily, simple and untouched!

If it were anywhere near the Lincoln Highway - but it's not - we'd want to do a video story about it. Nonetheless, I called Frank Felicetti, whose name is on all the "For Sale" signs. We went to high school together, and I hoped he'd help me get in touch with any Fellers that might still be around. No problem.

So a few weeks ago, I stopped at the garage on my way home, and I met Jim and Bob Feller and their wives, Phyllis and Diana. I expected to hear tales of working there all their lives, but it was soon apparent that the building was of minimal significance to them, even though Jim had run it himself until he retired in 2004. It seemed important to these men only as the place where their dad had worked, starting in the early 1940s.

Their father, known as "Big Al" Feller, died in 1981 but was obviously a legendary figure in Castle Shannon. Not only did he run this place as an Atlantic gas station, back in the days when you were supposed to worry about Atlantic's famous "Red Ball Service," but he was also Castle Shannon's fire chief from 1939 to 1961. He was largely responsible for the innovative 1948 "Green Hornet" fire truck that was renowned across the country as the most efficient, well-designed and well-equipped truck anywhere - it won awards year after year and set industry standards for its manufacturer, Ahrens-Fox of Cincinnati. "The truck had an AF symbol on the front," said Jim, "and I always thought that stood for Al Feller."

Jim and Bob couldn't talk fast enough to tell me tales of their father. They laughed and remembered his 1946 Dodge tow truck with special rigging. He had a welder's truck with acetylene tanks, and he could thaw frozen water pipes electrically, winning him lots of friends at the water company. He helped construct various steel-beam structures in the area, including the nearby Iron & Glass Bank building. Jim said, "He did everything. There's a swing set he built for us at our old house in 1951, still there, still works, still sturdy." In his spare time, Al served on Castle Shannon Borough Council for more than 20 years.

He was apparently a man's man, big and boisterous and charming, the kind of guy who could wear a big sombrero and talk his way into any event, including one year at the Indianapolis 500. He made friends instantly at the racing event in order to see the garages of "Gasoline Alley" because it was a place he'd always wanted to visit.

I went to visit the Fellers assuming that I'd do a story about the funky old building, but the Feller boys reminded me that often it's the people who make a place really interesting.

I drive by and look at it with new respect now, knowing just a bit about the spirit of inventiveness, ingenuity, entrepreneurship and community service that fills all its nooks, its office and service bay.

The spirit of "Big Al" Feller lives on.