Longing for Warm Weather

(Originally written in 2003 to the UDF Customer Relations Dept.)

During the Fifties and Sixties, on the southeast side of Cleveland, Ohio, stood an old brick building, which housed Meyer Dairy. They processed milk, then delivered it throughout the neighborhood, to the Mom & Pop stores and to the forerunners of super markets. In front of the processing plant, on the corner of Lederer Avenue and East 65th Street, was "Dairyland." Inside was a fountain with stools, square tables with sturdy aluminum chairs and a jukebox upon which a song was a nickel and you could hear 3 for a dime.

Most any time you visited, at the table nearest the jukebox, sat "Charlie", the bookie. We never saw any deals take place, but the reputation was enough to invoke awe in the minds of any pre-teenagers. Most of us didn't know what a bookie did, but Charlie did at least look like one! Although he was nice enough to us, we gave him plenty of room. It's not that we were afraid, it's just that we didn't know what a bookie might do to us if we did anything to upset him. This was prior to sexual abuse and kidnapping, so we weren't thinking about those things.

Those were the days of unlocked doors. I don't remember having a house key back then. Neighbors kept a watch on things that would cause envy in the best FBI agent. They had the best hearing...if you walked the streets after dark, you could see a window curtain move ever so slightly...movement caused by the night guard. I'm not sure if any of the old-timers ever slept!

The most violent scene witnessed was an occasional brawl between 2 guys over the claim on one of the "chicks" at the Friday night sock hop. If you're too young, the junior high school played 45 RPM records in the gymnasium to keep us occupied and you had to remove your shoes to prevent damage to the floor. Thus the term, sock hop. A hard-earned quarter got you admission to the Olympia Theater with enough left over to buy a 10 cent box of popcorn. Wow...14 cents to see a newsreel, several cartoons, coming attractions and two full-length movies!

Back to Meyer Dairy. A small fountain Coke was a nickel and so was a small bag of Dan-Dee potato chips, made right down the street. The very best part was the ice cream. It was the model of consistency and very difficult to choose which flavor you'd have that day. With money being very tight immediately following the Korean War, and, wanting to get the most for our money, we'd wait until Mrs. Nemec was behind the counter. Small in stature, she'd swoop that one piece ice cream scoop like Paul Bunyan swinging his axe to form the Grand Canyon, causing your eyes to nearly pop out when you saw the size of that scoop on top of the cone. We'd savor and lick for what seemed like hours, as this was the height of our week! If the weather were humid, we'd have to eat it quickly or else the ice cream would melt its way through the cone. Being inventive, we'd make it last longer by biting off the bottom of the cone and sucking down the ice cream with closed eyes and nothing else mattered. By the way, a one scoop cone cost 9 cents. If you had saved enough for two scoops, it was a challenge to keep them balanced while you worked hard to keep it from melting down onto your hand. I can't remember how much a pint or larger container cost. The cones are what I most fondly recall and the picture of Mrs. Nemec performing to the delight and anticipation of a young child.

I came home from a stint with Uncle Sam to find that Meyer Dairy had closed and Dairyland was no more. Gone were Mrs. Nemec and Charlie, the jukebox, the tables, the nickel Cokes and the ice cream cones. Today, it's all flat ground where Dairyland once served the neighbors and elicited countless faces to break into smiles as wide as the side view of a canoe. There have been times since when I've not had ice cream, but I've gotten back on track in the past 3 years. Nothing can replace Dairyland and I suppose good memories overshadow the taste of today's flavors. My ultimate back then was chocolate-marshmallow because it was the way the marshmallow was swirled into the chocolate.

My travels have taken me in search of that old-time flavor and have all ended in disappointment...UNTIL...a very good friend treated me to some that's made by United Dairy Farmers. I consumed a goodly amount of it that evening! It's the first time in thirty-some years that I've been able to associate the taste with the memory. Thank you, UDF! Funny how a small act of kindness and a some good ice cream can conjur up so many memories.