I thought we were in Burnt Chimney, Virginia. Precisely Wirtz, VA.
Friday afternoon.
When I saw that the weekly challenge was nostalgic I wondered what I longed for- I don’t truly long for the return of the milk truck or the milkman to bring the glass bottles of milk to the door. But this truck did make me remember and recapture a time of my life, past…..
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Nostalgic. Sometimes, we long for the past: for moments we want to remember or recapture. The good times. The golden years. Or perhaps we’re homesick, or longing for something — or someone — that might have been. |
We went for ice cream cones at the Homestead Creamery Friday afternoon. There were white rockers to sit in out front. This old milk truck was parked on their lawn.
I remember out milkman (an it was prior to PC naming- not milk person or milk carrier) bringing a wire basket of glass bottles of milk to the milk box on the back steps. A dozen eggs.
I remember the sound of the truck door sliding open and shut on his truck. The rattle of glass. The sound of the milk box lid closing. You can buy milk in glass bottles at Homestead Creamery.
Our milkman was from the Alderney Dairy in New Jersey.
If you want to see a previous post of a vintage Harmony Dairy milkbox you can click here
and here’s the image from the link above, showing Dorothy‘s Milkbox ’cause who has time to click and go check it out?
Our milkman was named Bob, and he used to keep the milk in his truck cold using chunks of ice. Sometimes he would give us little pieces of ice to cool off with.
Bob was our milkman, too, — he must’ve gotten around — and he delivered Bordan’s milk. Did you house have a milk chute? It was a little box in the wall with doors on either side. Mom would leave her order for his next visit and money for his last in there. He would put the milk and dairy in it. In the dead of Winter, that chute insured nothing would freeze. Thanks for the memories, Ruth.
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Herman was our milkman. Would let me ride in the truck sometimes around the neighborhood to “help”. He would then give me a small bottle of chocolate milk for helping him. It was from Silverbrook Dairy.
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I think we got milk deliveries a few times a week. On Saturdays, we would have the treat of either chocolate milk or some sort of orange drink.
I remember a funny story about our milkman. He used to come early in the morning and sometimes would see my mother with her hair still in pin curls. (For those who don’t remember, this was the hair twisted and bobby-pinned to the head to create body and fullness to the hair.) One day he was delivering milk to my aunt’s house. She lived a few miles away, and also married, had a different last name. On this particular morning, she still had her hair in pin curls. The milkman took one look at her and said, ” You must me Mrs. Pace’s sister.”
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These are great stories. I’m of the age where I never got to experience a milk man making deliveries to our door – but it sounds like it was a very positive interaction in many people’s day. Personalization and real human contact – I like it, and indeed am often nostalgic for it…
We also had a Harmony milk box on our front porch. Nostalgia – I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Now there’s nostalgia – our milkman, against all rules, gave us a ride sometimes. And the bread man, and the coal truck – see you opened a door …
Great memories and wonderful photos!
I miss the days that you would hear the clink of the milk bottles as the milkman dropped them off by the front door
you have struck a chord here ruth … we were all visited by milkmen in our childhood … in the country we had a horse and cart milkman, who poured the milk into your billy, and also left a small jar of cream if you asked 🙂
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I remember our milk bottles in the carrier on the front porch. My mother would take the bottles and separate the cream at the top, and I loved to watch her do that!
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