Nestled in the green hills of Washington County, the village of Hickory wraps itself around the sloping curves of Route 50, a two-lane road that takes the name Main Street for the mile or two that it needs to pass through town.

There's not a lot there. There's a post office, a pizzeria, a country inn and, at the western end of what would be Hickory's downtown if it had one, there is an auto dealership -- Corwin Chrysler and Jeep.

The dealership occupies both sides of the road. On one side sits the main building, containingh the showroom and offices, with the parts department on a lower level. To the building's left is vacant land, cleared to make room for an expansion that now will not happen. To its right, wooden stairs lead down to the parts department's entrance, almost blocked by a trailer that contains the service manager's office.

On the opposite side of the street sits the service garage, and next to it the display lot, with two tiers of vehicles shining in the bright May sun -- although some of them don't shine as brightly as they did before workers began ripping up the road nearby to lay Hickory's first water main, tossing up a large cloud of fine dust in the process.

Chester Corwin Jr., unfailingly referred to by himself and others as "Bo," apologizes for the condition of some of the vehicles -- "we washed them just yesterday" -- before ushering his visitor into the showroom.

The showroom floor is only large enough for a single Chrysler Pacifica. Sitting at a small round table a few feet away from it, Mr. Corwin speaks about how his father established the dealership in 1945, selling Jeeps to local farmers.

In a voice that seems too quiet for a car salesman, he says, "A lot of the farmers couldn't afford a tractor and a vehicle. So they bought a Jeep, and they could still plow the fields and do a lot of chores around the farm with the Jeep, until they could find enough money to replace and get a really good tractor."

He talks briefly about the Willys years -- "they built really good cars back in those days, but they couldn't compete with the big guys" -- then ticks off names of companies that have owned the brand. Like the names of Presidents, they represent historical periods:

Kaiser, American Motors, Chrysler, Daimler-Chrysler, Cerberus.

Chrysler, which has been operating in bankruptcy protection since April 30, announced earlier this month that it would close 789 of its 3,200 dealerships as part of its restructuring plan. Among those dealerships were 16 in the Pittsburgh area, including Corwin Chrysler.

Now, he says, the business will continue as a used Jeep dealership. "People at least for the next generation, will link our name with Jeep. It's always been Corwin Jeep. So that's the good thing going forward."

Chrysler, which has been operating in bankruptcy protection since April 30, announced earlier this month that it would close 789 of its 3,200 dealerships as part of its restructuring plan. Among those dealerships were 16 in the Pittsburgh area, including Corwin Chrysler.

Salesman Howard "Hug" McKinney, a native of Washington, worked at other Chrysler Jeep dealerships before moving to Hickory a year ago and signing on with Corwin.

Since the news of Chrysler's decision, he says, traffic at the dealership has "picked up immensely," he says, so much so that some potential customers have left when the sales staff did not wait on them quickly enough in the crunch. But many people have come with unrealistic expectations of buying cars "for pennies on the dollar."

"I wish we could do that," he says. "However, we're still a business ... we have so much money in these cars, and we're trying to get back out of them what we paid for them."

When he speaks about Corwin's loss of dealer status with Chrysler, his face hardens slightly and his voice takes on a slight edge.

"This is the oldest Jeep dealer in the world, and I think a little loyalty should be involved, to the man who sold the very first Jeep."

A senior couple comes in, and Mr. McKinney goes to serve them.

Things are starting to get busy. The office manager, Diane Charles-Cossu, offers to help. "Don't forget, I have a license, too."

Mr. Corwin jokes that Ms. Charles-Cossu has been there 50 years.

"Don't believe him," she says. Actually, she started there as a finance manager in 1988, and excluding a 3-year break for things like marriage and motherhood, has been there ever since. Along the way she also became a licensed sales agent.

Settling back into her office, she says that the days since the Chrysler edict have been "depressing."

"The first day was inundating, we had so many calls from people saying, 'I'm so sorry,' 'Is there anything we can do?'

"It makes you feel bad, it really does."

But unlike others, she does not express surprise at Chrysler's move.

She notes that Chrysler Financial Corporation, which was spun off from Chrysler after Cerberus acquired Chrysler in 2007, was taken over recently by GMAC LLC; that Cerberus controls GMAC; and that the Obama administration offered funding to GMAC, but not to Chrysler Financial. Then she says of Cerberus, "it's kind of a win-win for them."

"This isn't as unexpected as everybody thought it was," she says.

Asked if she plans to stay at Corwin after it becomes a used car dealership, she answers, "If we have jobs, yeah.

"I'm realistic about everything. Unfortunately, there's not a lot of automobile industry jobs right now. I may have to start the second career of my life."

Seconding Mr. McKinney's description, Mr. Corwin says that during the past few days, "It's been rather hectic. You've got the people who think you've got to give them a car, a full tank of gas and a $20 bill and send them on their way."

On the other hand, "there's been an awful lot of sympathy expressed by our friends, customers practically from coast to coast," with e-mails coming from as far away as Washington state, Texas and California.

"It's very sad, that we were treated in such a manner that we had no control of our fate," he says. "I know we're all put on this earth and we have no control over when God calls us, but..."

He starts to choke up.

"That's the part that hurts most. You didn't do yourself under, somebody else did."

He lowers his face into his hands. And the tears flow.

Service Manager David LoGreco's domain is a trailer dominated by a row of file cabinets.

"We've had a lot of phone calls wondering if customers are still going to be able to bring their vehicles here for service," he says. Callers not only ask whether their warranties will be honored; they are "questioning why Chrysler has picked us to close."

To the latter, Mr. LoGreco has no answer. As to the former, "we will continue to do regular service for vehicles, as long as it doesn't have to do with the Chrysler warranty."

So if someone bought a car last year, and wants service under the warranty? "They're out of luck if it's a warranty issue. I basically cannot do it. Chrysler will not pay us to do that."

When the dealership received the news, "it was like a kick in the stomach," he says.

"I think they just looked at numbers and chose dealers by location, rather than actually looking into each individual dealer and seeing what we do." he says.

"It was a tough day."

Parts manager Tom Frankfurt has been with the dealership longer than anyone in the place other than Bo himself --32 years.

The news was like a gut punch that continues to produce a mix of emotions, he says.

"As the time goes along the big thing is the customers," he says, "the relationships that you've built with hundreds of customers over the years. You've grown to know them and their kids. Their kids have bought cars and their kids'll probably buy cars...it's a sad turn of events for everybody in general."

Although Corwin will continue, selling used vehicles, the change will have a major effect on his department, Mr. Frankfurt says.

"It's still going to be difficult to get the quality parts we'd like to, or used to, from Chrysler."

Paying a visit to the department to discuss inventory, Mr. Corwin speaks about the ripple effect that Chrysler's decision could have. When the recession became full-blown last fall, he shrunk his workforce from 22 to 15. Now he might need to let more workers go.

That will mean less revenues for the local restaurants where his workers go for lunch. It will mean less revenues for the BP station down the road, where the dealership spends "a couple of grand a month" on gas for the cars they sell.

Finally, "there's going to be less sources of productivity to be taxed by the government, which means it all falls back on you, the taxpayer."

Speaking of the inconvenience to customers who will no longer have a Chrysler dealership within a 35-square-mile area, he says, "It's just terrible. I'm sure they'll come to grips with it over time. But it's not right."

Mr. Corwin's nephew, Brandon, also a salesman, stops by and chats with his uncle at the small round table in the showroom. There's news from Washington this day -- the National Automobile Dealers Association's lobbying effort on behalf of the dealerships is making progress.

The trade group is not necessarily trying to stop the train that is headed in the direction of Corwin and 788 other dealers; but it is trying to slow it down.

"Just give us a 6-month extension," Bo Corwin says.

He mentions that the dealership recently bought some new diagnostic tools from Chrysler -- portable computers that will scan a vehicle, then connect wirelessly to the Internet to search the manufacturer's database to determine what the vehicle needs.

"We can't even use it now," he says.

"I just think they didn't think it out," he says of Chrysler's plan. "They thought it up, but they didn't think it out."

Perhaps a half-mile east of Corwin's on Main Street is the pizzeria, Slinger's Pizza. Owner Kevin Ringling says the change at Corwin will change things there as well.

"A lot of lunch business comes in from those guys," he said. In addition, "vendors will stop and say, 'Hey, send five pizzas up to Corwin for me.'"

Now those vendors will not have as much business with Corwin, will not have as much reason to order five pizzas at a time.

Mr. Ringling volunteers that his business will not be the only one affected.

"I think it's gonna impact everybody in town."