Somethings Are Better; All Cost More!

Several gents who showed up regularly at the home of my youth no longer stop by to do their business. Why back in the day, our family doctor, Doc Kaleen would come by the house any time mother telephoned the black-satchel carrying medicine man. Actually, the last time I remember a medical doctor making a house-call was in Mason City, Illinois exactly 47 years ago today; it was the birth date of our daughter Dawn. It was a beautiful fall Saturday and Doc Means had plans to attend the University of Illinois football game in Champaign; never got there. Gerry had contractions the early morning and I gave Doc a telephone call. He stopped by the house to check out the pregnant mother and said to us, "I'll meet you guys at Lincoln Hospital (Lincoln, Il.), we are going to have a baby today."

Another chap who made a house visit once a month was our Prudential Insurance agent. I suppose my parents had some type of 'life' insurance back then because I recall mother always gave Mr. Hudson some 'coins' to bring the policy up to snuff. Imagine insurance of any kind for pennies a month! My insurance supplement is rather costly today and no doctor would consider stopping by the house, however they do have those convenient store-like 'doc-box' buildings on most every corner these days.

The milk man brought fresh milk to the house at least twice a week in 1950; we had one of those insulated boxes that sat on the front stoop where we put the empty bottles next to for the pick-up/drop-off routine. My modern refrigerator keeps all items cold and it has a side-by-side freezer compartment.

Of course, in my early youth, I vividly recall two other delivery guys; the coal man who placed a shoot at a basement window and released the coal from his truck into a bin. The coal then had to be shoveled into the furnace fire to keep the heat up. The other guy pulled his ice truck up to the house and got the 'sign-signal' from a window card. That card had a weight number at each of the four sides. We usually got twenty-five pounds of ice; I suppose our ice box could not handle larger amounts.

The only ice peddler I see these days is the fella selling those flavored laced snow cones; the cost of one of those ice treats would cover mom's 1948 life insurance policy for three months.