The Iceman

A big chunk of slippery heaven would go into each pair of dirty hands, lined up in a row, virtually kneeling at the altar of the ice god waiting for the “priest” to place the ice host in their palms. As he went down the row, and finally came to me and I felt the ice sear my palms with its painful, delicious chill, I did indeed think of heaven…a split second before the painfully cold and slippery ice was in my mouth, baby teeth gnawing away on the hard water, trying to make a snow cone long before the treat had even been invented.

Soon, rivulets of icy water were running down our brown bellies, staining our chicken feed bag boxer shorts and carving grooves down our dusty legs, stinging half healed scratches from climbing the Camphor tree, to finally to make temporary puddle-lets in the sandy grooves of the unpaved street.

Even as we were (almost) totally absorbed in noshing on the ice chunks, we held the precious, rapidly vanishing polar treat in one hand and waved good-bye to the iceman as he chucked his mule and headed down the street.

Like the “old lamp lighter” of even longer bye-gone days, the ice man vanished soon after, replaced by new GE and Kelvinator refrigerators. The ice man had had been replaced by a coiffed and poised Betty Furness–until one evening on live television “from New York,” she couldn’t get the refrigerator door to open.  What was the producer to do then?  Cut to a commercial?  Sorry, that is/was the commercial.

Getting an ice cube was now as easy as opening the door, taking out an ice tray and yanking up on the lever that pried the ice cubes out of their compartments…if your brother hadn’t beaten you to the ice tray and not refilled it.

We didn’t know that an era was passing as we played in the sun, took showers from the water hose, climbed the Camphor tree, and picked sand spurs out of tough feet. Somewhere, in the backs of our sun scorched minds, we realized that the ice man had stopped coming. Only later would we understand we had helped close out an era, had witnessed the replacement of one technology by another, had been there, standing in that hot, dusty street as a way of life had come to an end.

The streets were soon paved, the ice man was replaced by a kilowatt hour, and air conditioners took us off the streets and out of the trees.

© Tracy D. Connors 2015 All Rights Reserved

About Tracy Connors

Tracy D. Connors graduated from Jacksonville University (AA), University of Florida (BA), the University of Rhode Island (MA), and Capella University (Ph.D. with Distinction, human services management, 2013). Ph.D. (Honorary), Leadership Excellence, Jacksonville University, December, 2013. Designated a "Distinguished Dolphin" by Jacksonville University, Feb. 2, 2010.

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