Okeechobee’s late Martin and Annie Hancock practiced togetherness in a way that few ever have. The Hancock’s who celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary during Christmas 1976, and for many years, were found daily working together at Hancock’s Standard Oil, which was located at the corner of South Parrott Avenue and Fourth Street.

Martin L. Hancock was one of the children of Henry H. Hancock, the second white settler in today’s Okeechobee City. Judge Hancock migrated from Fort Mead with his family and arrived in Okeechobee in 1902. He built a log cabin on the east side of Taylor Creek, where young Martin made his debut in 1904. They lived in the log cabin until Judge Hancock completed a large home in 1914. The building still stands at the dead-end of S.E. 10th Avenue.

One of young Martin’s first memories was of riding in a horse-drawn buggy with his father, going to see Doc Hubbard who lived near Oak Lake. "It seems like it took forever to get there," he reminisced. He didn’t recall the illness that caused Judge Hancock to take his young son for medical care. At Christmas, 1926, Martin took his bride and began a partnership that remained strong until his death. They raised two daughters.

In his early years, Mr. Hancock worked as a dispatcher for the post office and as a tank truck driver for the Standard Oil Company. Following an accident, the company offered him the management of the station. Mr. Hancock took over the lease on October 1, 1945, and he and his wife have spent over 32 years serving the needs of motorists who passed South Parrott Avenue. The building was erected in 1923 by the Standard Oil Company, when South Parrott was the terminus to the old Connors Highway toll road. This was the early north-south route into town from the Palm Beaches, but today we know it as U.S. 441. At one time, the station was the only one south of Park Street.

"We’ve had our ups and downs here," Mr. Hancock related during a 1977 interview, "but we put our girls through school and have made a living. Usually we show a small gain." Mr. Hancock’s cherubic countenance made one think of a beardless Kris Kringle, he looked much younger than his 73 years. He could relate stories of those years when his father served the community as a judge. Tales of those years when the town’s growing pains were often boisterous and sometimes violent. Asked what he thought of the community’s rapid, recent expansion during the late 1970’s, Mr. Hancock said, "you can’t keep a good thing down. This is progress. Things that don’t grow, finally die."

The Hancocks grew with Okeechobee, in love and in wisdom, until his death. Their partnership in business and marriage were living proof that "togetherness" is not dead in the American family.