The Milkman Cometh

The Milkman Cometh

There was a time when the Milk Man paid regular visits to our houses. With each visit he left those magnificent white bottles stacked inside of our milk box. I was in awe of his truck, and the box of ice he kept inside next to the driver's seat.

Each time he came, he would let us kids scoop our hands into the metal cooler of crushed ice and take our fill. How exciting and refreshing it was, so cold and fresh, with a beautiful scent icy water being chilled in a refrigerated compartment. On those scorching summer days, the Ice Man / Milk Man was a most welcome friend. He'd also let us ride on the running board of his truck as he cruised at probably 10 mph from house to house.

For a six year-old , that was pretty hot stuff; there wasn't anything better than riding on his running board. Our neighborhood garbage man rode on a little metal step on the truck. I always thought he was the luckiest guy in the world being able to ride along like that.

I really miss those days of having milk delivered to the house. I miss the concept of refreshments in glass, such as bottled milk and pop in pop bottles. The milk man also delivered orange juice. Those big glass milk bottles, and the memories that they now contain, still are the best.