The Pharmacy Trap
A late-night misadventure outside an Eagle Pharmacy store leads to an unexpected reunion.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Miss Cathy Knowles sat in the Eagle pharmacy waiting for her interurban car. It was very late. The last gay couple had departed and the soda fountain clerk was evidently delaying on her account the closing of the store. It was cold and stormy outside. Anxiously scanning the clock on the wall she told the boy she had only 10 minutes more to wait, and would willingly wait outside. Apologizing for his haste, the boy took her at her word, locked the safe, lowered the lights, and called out, 'All ready!' Miss Knowles quickly stepped out, but as the bleak wind struck her face, she huddled close into the corner of the doorway. The heavy door creaked on its hinges and refused at first to close, but the boy pulled it shut with a muffled bang, turned the key, and hurried off. Miss Knowles watched eagerly for the big red car. She sprang out to reach the crossing, but fell flat upon her hands and knees. Something was holding her gown. Her new broadcloth suit was caught in the hinges. She shouted for help until a patrolman found her. They summoned the store manager, Mr. Ambler—an old acquaintance of Cathy's. After he freed her, he walked her to her car, and the patrolmen were left to nod in approval of the unexpected outcome.
“Her skirt was held fast by the door and the big hinges were chewing it to tatters.”
While modern pharmacies have automatic doors and security protocols, the isolation of waiting late at night for transit remains a shared anxiety for many Tacoma commuters. The story captures the intersection of public commercial space and personal vulnerability that still defines urban late-night travel.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.