Atlanta Fuel Crisis: My 24-Hour Search for Gas

Atlanta Fuel Crisis: One Consumer's Story of a 24-Hour Search for Gas - Generally, Monday through Friday is like a war zone in our home. My husband is out the door first at an ungodly hour. Shortly after that I am up with the kids and the real drama begins. Saturday's are a different type of busy; I lay in the bed until the last possible second. I only have to worry about getting myself ready on Saturday so I enjoy this luxury.

Last Saturday, I found myself having to make a gas stop before I made my way to work. I decided that it was best to at the Shell on Collier Road since it was on my way. Imagine my surprise to find white plastic bags over the pumps and a sign stating, "No gas!" Grumpily I made my way back past my home and to the RaceTrac gas station on Marietta Blvd. I found gas but for some reason half the city of Atlanta was getting gas at the exact same time I handicapped to get gas, imagine that?

After a near fist fight with another driver over a gas pump, I decide that I can make it to work and off I went. I must admit that I hadn't given much thought to the search for gas during my day at work. After leaving work, I stopped at the nearest service station; a Chevron station on Ponce de Leon and Piedmont Ave. Yes, there even more plastic bags on the nozzles. A sense of dread came over me as I started to wonder if I would find any gas before my car simply stopped in protest. As I approached the Shell gas station on Howell Mill Rd I noticed many cars lined up but again the nozzles were covered with plastic bags. When I asked a driver why they were waiting he stated flatly, "we are waiting for the tanker, it will be here at 8:30pm." This was puzzling since it was just a little past 5pm. Hurricane Ike had come and gone, the oil refineries in Texas were back online but the gas supply in Atlanta was somehow not aware.

Reluctantly, I sought fuel at the same Shell on Collier Rd and then the RaceTrac station but there was no gas. The yellow glowing gas pump on my dash board seemed brighter and the alert was louder. After arriving at home my husband informed me that his car was low on fuel and he was afraid to drive it without knowing for sure if there was gas to buy. Later that evening I set out on a mission to find fuel. I ventured back to the Howell Mill station because the tanker was due in at 8:30pm and it was just about that time. I arrived to find at least 50 cars and more arriving by the minute and found my place in line. There is another Shell station about 2 blocks up the road across from the Super Wal-Mart and I thought they may have gas. Wouldn't it be funny if all these people were here waiting when there was fuel two blocks up the street? So off I went. There were more bags covering the nozzles and the attendant advised that he didn't know when the tanker was due to arrive. I walked back to my car feeling defeated and wondering, where the heck was all the gas?

Back at the Shell station, the mood was lively. The children had been set free and they were playing. The adults were talking and really connecting while waiting for the gas to arrive. A Harley Davidson truck turned heads as it pulled into the already over crowded station and saddled up next to a pump. The crowd was antsy at the boldness of the driver until it all became clear. The red lettering on the side of his truck announced that he was proudly filling up with diesel fuel and the cars moved to accommodate the long black truck.

8:30pm had come and gone but the tanker never arrived to re-fill the stations supply. The slim Moroccan man had the misfortune of informing the crowd that the tanker would not be there and he had no idea when the station would have more gas.

The crowd grew angry as they started there cars. Then someone announced that there was a tanker re-filling at the BP gas station on the corner of Northside and 14^th Street! There was excitement again and nervous drivers forced their cars to go even further on even less fuel.

I was excited and drove quickly but in the distance I could see that the sign had no prices and there was no tanker in sight. I took out my gas can and started to walk two blocks up to the Marathon station that was packed with cars on my drive to work earlier that day. I came upon an elderly man on a bike who advised that there was no gas to be found and that I should know that I was merely walking for the fun of it.

Defeated, I walked back to my car and tried to make it home, when in the distance I could see a 4^th Shell station on Northside Drive and there was cars parked outside. I had never noticed how many Shell gas stations there were in my neighborhood until now. The closer I got to the station, it became clear that they too were waiting for the tanker. At this point I weighted my options and decided to try and make it home but I would most likely need a cab; if I could find one. It seemed smarter to stay on the surface streets but if I ran out of gas I could at least call the H.E.R.O (Highway Emergency Response Operator) Unit to bring me a gallon of gas.

I made it home and sadly relayed the nights events to my husband. We were even more concerned. We went to bed that evening wondering about Monday morning and how we would make it to work. We thought about the kids and how we could get them to school if things didn't get any better.

My phone rang at 6am and my bosom buddy of nearly 15 years, she advised me to come quickly because the RaceTrac where I started my search the previous morning was being re-filled and the line was growing. My husband and I loaded our crew and off we went to take our place among the sixty or so drivers lined up to buy gas.