When I was much younger, there would come a day when the roads got so washboardy rough that Dad would say it's time to hook onto the road patrol and smooth them out. I would drive the tractor and he would work the controls of the blade from the platform on the rear. We came across one in Georgia at an ag museum and I looked it over. Sure enough, on its frame was stamped the name "Road Patrol." After I searched the internet, more pictures came up. It's another memory found after sorting through a pile of pictures.
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Story Under a Stone: The Old Gas Station
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