Convenience stores are not designed to spark fierce loyalty in their patrons. They are supposed to be interchangeable; customers pulling off of the road and stopping at the first bright lights they see for some cheap coffee and snacks or to fill up their tank. In Philadelphia, this is not the case. Many Philadelphians live and die by Wawa.
To those from outside the area, or 
even (ugh) Sheetz lovers, this fanaticism is seen as bizarre. In parts of the Northeast, Wawas are informal boundaries between neighborhoods. People make countdowns to the annual Hoagiefest event and buy commemorative tee shirts. Several of my friends’ senior year summer shore houses in Wildwood, New Jersey had giant Wawa banners hanging, spanning two walls. When I came home from my semester abroad, my first meal, driving home from the airport at midnight, was a Wawa hoagie.
The undeniably strange name may throw off non-locals. Wawa is named after the Wawa Dairy Farm from which it was created in the town of Wawa, Pennsylvania. The town was named after the Ojibwe word for the Canada Goose, which has been featured on the logo of the store since its inception. Wawas are found throughout the East Coast, mainly focused in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware, with stores reaching as far as Florida.
Most Philadelphians are, admittedly, obsessed with Wawa. Yes, it is super convenient – free MAC machines, fast ordering of food on touch-screen systems, actually good, non-suspect, convenience store deli counter food, and basically any Philadelphia-based junk food you could ever want (except maybe water ice) in one place – but I’m not convinced that convenience, or even deliciousness is the reason for Wawa’s iconic status in Philadelphia.
It seems to me, the same way Philadelphians gravitate toward Rocky as a unifying force, his spirit being something distinctly “Philadelphian” as well as American, is very similar to the way Philadelphians react to Wawa. Wawa is something that makes the area unique; our love for Wawa has more to do with that and the sentimentality of being able to walk into any Wawa or see the yellow lights and know that you are somewhere familiar, than the sum of all its awesome, convenient parts.
Wawa’s are found throughout the city, but it is certainly worth noting that the establishment quickly moves out of an area that they view as on the decline, which usually means in minority areas. For example, the Wawa I frequented in Wissinoming on Harbison Avenue changed over several years ago to a Quick Stop location, which coincided with the changing demographics of the area. The immediate area surrounding Temple has a great number of convenience stores, but no Wawas in sight. According to Wawa.com, the closest Wawa to Temple University is in Fairmount, which, while still North Philadelphia, has a vastly different population than other areas of North Philadelphia.
While I am sure the decision on where to build or maintain Wawas is certainly an economic decision that factors in crime rates, which could eat into the profit margins as well as detract from the safe, family-friendly atmosphere that the corporation has attempted to maintain, it is certainly interesting to look at. This information illustrates the question of who exactly makes an icon? Those within minority, lower-income, “dangerous,” neighborhoods do not have a Wawa to obsess over and elevate to iconic levels. Defining and shaping an icon requires both power and opportunity, and the placement of Wawa locations helps to elucidate that point.