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The Milkman by classmate Frank James
When we first moved to Frackville I remember watching
the milkman delivering milk from a horse drawn wagon. I was amazed to watch the milkman get off the
wagon with an oblong wire basket with a handle with six or eight milk bottles
and walk down the street placing the requested amount ordered on each doorstep
as the big white horse walked down the street ahead of him and stopped at some
predetermined place, I guess agreed upon by him and the milkman. It wasn't too much longer, maybe a year, when
the milk company retired the old swayback horse and changed over to mechanized
equipment. It was sort of sad not to see
the milkman jump off the wagon and have it waiting for him three or four houses
down the block. However, through this young boy’s eyes came a startling
surprise when the milkman would jump from his slow moving truck with his milk basket
as his vehicle continued down the street about one to two houses. So, we kids got a kick out watching him
adjust to his new mode of transportation as he got better at letting his
"stand up" truck drift further down the street. His "stand up" truck, as I referred
to it, was a step van that had a fold up seat which could be driven from a
standing position. It had a gas pedal
that was attached to the brake system so that when he jumped out of the truck; it
would come to a stop a couple of car lengths further down the road. It was similar to the way golf carts
operate. This form of vehicle operation
in modern times would be an unacceptable public risk.
I asked Mother what happened to the horse and she said
that they retired him and put him out to pasture. I remembered the farm and Mr. Marshall's horses in the pastures in New Jersey,
and had visions of this nice old white hard-working horse romping around in the
green fields eating grass all day. Then
Dad said, as he was eating breakfast, "Naw, he went to the glue
factory."
I asked him, "What's a glue factory?" Dad said, “It’s where they take old horses,
cook them up, and make glue out of them."
Mother looked on with a shocked look and with a feeling of empathy for
her son said, "Oh, Heavens, Francis, really!"
The shock to me was almost the same feeling as when
someone told me there was no Santa Claus.
When I went to school, and had to use the glue, all I could see was this
old white horse, and I didn't want to use it.
Mrs. Kirschner, my first grade teacher at the Franklin school on Broad
Mountain Avenue, asked me why I refused to use the glue, and I related my Dad's
story to her. She tried to convince me that they didn't use horses for making
the glue used by kids, and sent a note home to my parents. Dad thought this was funny, and had no idea
what an impact this incident had made on his young, impressionable son.
Milk Bottle
Cream
My personal story about milk delivery has to do with
what happens in the winter. Before homogenization milk came in bottles and the
cream was at the top. In freezing temperatures the frozen cream would expand
out the top of the bottle raising the paper lid with it. This was quite the sight! Eventually milk boxes on
your porch provided some protection so it didn't happen as much.
Iceman
Frank's story reminds me of the iceman who delivered
ice to homes in the mid- to late 40s. We literally had an ice box. Blocks of
ice were put at the top inside the icebox and that kept food cool for a few
days. Over time the ice melted and filled a water pan at the bottom. My job was
to empty the pan before water overflowed on the floor. When the block of ice
shrunk my mother put a sign in the front window to let the iceman. It had
numbers on it indicating the size of the block of ice she wanted. She rotated
it so the number she wanted was facing up. The iceman watched for signs in the
windows and if he saw one he knew what size he had to cut to bring to the
house.
Paperboy
Yes, as far as I recall all of the newspapers were
delivered by boys. I was one of them and told my recollections of this in
another blog segments called "Jobs" under the title "Paper
Route."
