Sunday, July 6, 2008

yesterday is gone

Do you remember the milkman? I remember the milkman. I remember as a kid waiting with anticipation for the milk-truck to pull up. We'd have milk, buttermilk, cream or butter delivered to our kitchen doorstep. The Finlayson kids would often gather around the friendly man all dressed in white as he'd pull together mom's order from the big truck. He would always hand us each a big piece of ice from the truck before he drove away. It was a big treat for us - especially on a hot summer's day. I was disappointed when TroFe Dairy did away with the old ice-cooled trucks and got the new refrigerated kind. Oh well, no more huge chunks of ice for us kids.

Having a milkman pull up in the driveway was something we saw all the time. Who knew that it's day was coming? The milkman was part of our landscape as kids but something that is no more - at least in these parts. I have read that there are still home milk delivery services in places like Southern California - milk delivery from small dairies, often subscribed to for the novelty or nostalgic reasons. I am sure that it's more expensive to have it delivered - golly gee though- wasn't it nice when we did get home milk delivery? It's been decades since TroFe Dairy issued forth their fleet of delivery trucks from Walnut Street. Now we've got gallon plastic bottles which just aren't the same, but carry more and don't shatter into a thousand jagged milky pieces when dropped. It was for practical and more economic reasons that we said goodbye to this service gone-by.


Remember the sound of those glass milk bottles jingling as they were being carried to the door? We had an aluminum milk receptacle at the stoop of our back door for years. Some houses even had a little nook/door built into their modern home to receive the milk delivery without having to open their door. Yes, I can still see him in my mind's eye driving up, the kids gathering at the door of his truck, the sights and sounds. These memories will probably be nestled in my mind for the rest of my life.

7 comments:

Greene Street Letters said...

I remember the milk man.
We lived in Curtiston and had milk delivered. When I read in your blog about the milk man handing out ice, that truly opened up a memory I had misplaced. That was one of the best things about him coming to your house....the ice. Of course I was always trying to talk my mother into buying chocolate milk. Didn't work.
thanks for that memory...

I pity kids today.
mb

Anonymous said...

Mr. Dawson was our milkmen. Ralph Dawson... he was a nice man.
He later had a guy that helped him... his name was (I believe) Mike. Mr. Dawson on Saturdays use to drive me to Monna's for the Daugette's house was his next stop. Just wanted you to know our Milkman's name.

David Finlayson said...

That's Florrie that just posted as anonymous. She has a memory like you wouldn't believe.

The milk man post idea came up at the Hale family reunion yesterday. I started talking about getting ice from the milk man and a lady across from me said, "You're not that old!" Apparently I am. Gina was sitting next to me. Someone asked her if she remembered the milk man. She first said no - and then said she did remember. Why'd you lie Gina? She said that she didn't want to show her age. She said her mom always ordered chocolate milk from the milk man.

Anonymous said...

Do you remember the Merita man? He always gave us (you and Cindy) a Micky Cake and me a Banana flip. His name was Gordon Plunkett.
Yes, those were the good ole' days. Were people just nicer back then or is it that no one has time for anything anymore.

David Finlayson said...

I think there are plenty of nice folk in our area. I was just talking to a fellow that had migrated to the South a few years ago. I asked him if he liked it here and he said the people in Northeast Alabama are friendly than other parts of the country.

Maybe you hit the nail on the head. Maybe people don't have the time. When we were kids, we knew all the neighbors and they knew us. I've lived on my block for 12 years and haven't even met half of of my neighbors.

Anonymous said...

Well, the Finlayson... were really half the neighbowhood!
Florrie

Jackie MacPhee said...

I remember that we didn't lock our door if we were going to be gone when the milkman came. We'd just leave him a note, and he would go inside the back door which led to the kitchen and leave our milk in the fridge. Isn't that amazing? And did you have a set of insulated coffee cups and mugs that came from, was it, Tro-Fe Dairy? They came filled with cottage cheese or something?