Turkey in the Straw and Creamsicles

Differences in family finances showed clearly when the ice cream truck song was heard.
When the Good Humor truck’s “Turkey in the Straw” wafted around the neighborhood, excitement rose. “Mom, Mom!” We begged for cash.

Stopping the ice cream truck was a rare pleasure, but we cherished every moment, every painful choice (mainly, based on available funds), and every bite.

There were six of us eventually, so money for ice cream trucks was always a luxury. Sometimes we stood in our yard and watched luckier kids pore over the delicious choices. One only-child girl on our street always got the most expensive bar on the list, every time an ice cream truck came through. Mom used to remind us that she might be lonely for brothers and sisters, but there were times when each of us would have traded the rest as annoyances.

I agree with Mom now, miss the ones no longer with us, or far away in miles. Miss Mom, too, and Dad.

When I was young, the ice cream truck was as thrilling as Christmas morning. Well, almost. Good Humor claimed over 85 ice cream products. I’m certain our neighborhood truck didn’t carry that many. I remember creamsicles, chocolate éclairs, strawberry shortcake, toasted almond, popsicles, and chocolate-covered vanilla bars.

In our family, the last was reserved for Dairy Queen’s Dilly bars, another summer favorite from visits to our great-aunts, great-uncle, and great-grandma in Milwaukee.

Good Humor started in Ohio in the 1920’s. Harry Burt, with his children, put together chocolate-coated ice cream on sticks. He set up a dozen vending trucks with freezers and bells (from his son’s bobsled) to hawk his product.

To finally get a patent, Mr. Burt went to Washington D.C. with a five-gallon pail of Good Humor bars to sample, and his patent was granted.

Good Humor trucks were used until 1970, but by that time, other companies drove through our neighborhoods with a variety of tunes.

The unique sound of chimes from an ice-cream truck is produced, at least in part, by Nichols Electronics with their electronic music boxes. Chimes carry well, well enough to stir and torture eager young ice-cream lovers.

It's the sound of school summer vacation.

Of course, we inhaled popsicles from the grocery stores, too, and even the Tupperware version, made with Kool-Aid or juice in those plastic molds with the short plastic handles. Those went quickly, the first pulls being tart and rich with flavor, leaving shaved ice to crunch.

Kool-Aid was a summer drink in our house. Mom encouraged us to use one cup of sugar, but I doubt that the concept of too much sugar was a reality in young minds. Consider how much we tried to put on Saturday morning cereal for cartoon-watching.

My friend Kay introduced me to iced tea one summer, spooned from Nestea jars. My first glass was well-sugared, but I switched to unsweet afterward. I’m more of a tea snob now, use very hot tap water, peppermint bags, and Celestial Seasonings fruit sampler blends for a non-sweet, crisp, refreshing Sangria-like iced tea.

Of course, peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches were a summer lunch, but Kay liked cheese-and-mustard sandwiches, which I thought wonderful at the time.

I still like creamsicles.

When I lived in the same house, grown and with children, the sound of the ice cream truck chimes sent my offspring bolting into the house, begging for cash. I doubt that I had much more available than Mom did, but we managed the occasional treat, and I’d wait with them, past the sidewalk and near the edge of the street, to make sure that the truck stopped. Had the sizes shrunk or was my memory colored by delight in the moment?

Even more exciting than Good Humor bars was the hand-dipped cones of Superman ice cream, a Michigan specialty of Blue Moon, Red Pop or black cherry, and lemon or vanilla, for the red, white, and blue colors. I could see the black-and-white image of Superman against the American flag, proudly upholding honor against crime as I savored a cone.

It's not easy to recapture vivid childhood memories. Superman ice cream can do it. Lawn mowing on a summer afternoon can do it. Looking back on fireworks in the School Hills can do it, as well as the fall festival at Auburn Heights Elementary.

The chimes of an ice cream truck can do it.

And no, Good Humor bars don’t taste the same out of a grocery store box.