"The Ice Cream Man"

David Lee Roth & Eddie Van Halen.

These two rock icons likely made a good payday off the simple, three chord, rock tune they called, "The Ice Cream Man." Of course, their play on the metaphor was extremely sexual. Not at all the image that comes to mind when a mid-fifties, southern male remembers his Georgia childhood and upbringing.

Riverside was just that - a community beside a river. River bottom land is almost always good for growing things. But, a major drawback to living in that environment is the heat and humidity from June through August. In the dead of summer, Riverside was a place where Al Gore's "Global Warming" nonsense would have seemed almost plausible.

Sadly, the Chattahoochee River was already being impacted by industrial pollution by the middle of the 1960's. So, going down to the river for a cool swim on a sweltering summer afternoon was not the ideal way anymore to get relief from the heat. Too, most folks during that time, at least in Riverside, did not yet have central air conditioning, or even a window A/C unit, in their homes. The older homes in the neighborhood had been built, as was the practice in earlier times, amongst large water oaks and sweet gum trees in order to benefit from the cool of the shade they provided. Box fans were used inside the house, and the classic, "funeral home fan," was used while sitting on the front porch. These were the easiest and most convenient ways to circulate air, and help folks endure the oppressive heat.

Another option involved a large block of ice purchased at the local ice house. The nearest ice house was located at the corner of Bankhead Highway and Hightower Road. (Bankhead has since been renamed, "Holowell Parkway," but it will forever be known as, "Bankhead Highway," to this Atlanta native). Our family would pick up a block almost every Sunday after church.

Mama would chip large chunks off the ice block, and place them in a wash pan. She would run the pan about half full of water and let it sit for five or ten minutes - until the water became bitingly cold. Then, the pan was positioned in front of the box fan. The forced air over that ice-filled pan really did help cool the room. Too, a "wash rag" placed in the water, wrung out, and wiped over one's face and neck provided instant cool!

The most memorable way, however, to beat the summer heat in Riverside during those remarkable years came lumbering down its streets every Monday through Friday between 2:00 - 3:30 PM.

The Schwan, "Ice Cream Man," made his daily trek through Riverside every afternoon, of every weekday, of every summer, of every year for as long as our family lived in that great old community. His truck could be heard from several blocks away. It was equipped with a loud speaker and an audio device of some kind. Every kid in that old neighborhood knew the sound of the "Ice Cream Man" and his musical truck.

It was the "jingle" that did it. There were no vocals or lyrics, just the sound of the "ding-ding-ding" of the melody blasting loudly through the neighborhood. The only sound rivalling this were the calliope bells that rang out from one of the neighborhood churches. This writer can still "hear" the hymns sounding out so clearly and peacefully on Sunday mornings.

When that ice cream jingle started playing, kids in every house and yard went into full begging mode.

"Please, please, please let me have an ice cream, Mama," was the cry. Wise mothers used the leverage of "ice cream money" as a reward for the timely completion of chores. Either way, one of greatest disappointments for any Riverside child was to see and hear that truck drive right on by, leaving a broken heart and an empty tummy in its wake.

The blessed children fortunate enough to have "ice cream money" came scurrying and swarming like locusts to a grain field.

The Schwan's truck was really nothing more than a large, square ice cream freezer on a heavy duty chassis and wheels. The freezer units on those trucks were monstrously powerful. Even the exterior was cold to the touch. Children lacking ice cream money came running just to stand and lean against the side of the cool Schwan truck.

The Ice Cream Man always dressed in an olive green outfit, complete with an official looking cap which had a badge on the front. He looked a lot like a policeman, but without the gun. Instead, he carried a change-making, shiny, silver, coin carrier on his belt. He could count out change faster than a Walmart self check-out register. And, he knew exactly which of the multiple freezer doors to open to find what each child was clamoring for.

The Ice Cream Man's menu was simple. Push-Ups, Nutty-Buddies, Fudgesicles, Ice Cream Sandwiches, Eskimo Pies, Cups, Rainbow Bars, Popsicles, and "Mr. Freeze(s)." The latter of these was nothing more than frozen Kool-Aid in a long, clear tube. But, on a ninety-plus degree day, it was like sweet manna from heaven.

The prices were also easy to remember. Everything was either .05 cents, or .10 cents.

There was nothing that brought the kind of cool on a hot day like a stop from the Ice Cream Man. There was no song as recognizable as his jingle. He would ride up and down the streets of Riverside several times, just to make certain that no child was, "left behind." (And, educators thought their slogan was original with them.)          

There were times when the Ice Cream Man ceased being a businessman and became more of a humanitarian.

Whenever one of the neighborhood's poor kids came around, the Ice Cream Man would sneak a popsicle or other item to them for free. He would whisper, "Now, don't tell the other kids," even though the other kids were standing close enough to hear every word. This act of kindness, done more than a few times, won the appreciation and respect of many mothers and fathers in Riverside.

Just as angels often appear in two's in God's Book, there was also a second, "Ice Cream Man," on our block.

His name was T.J. Speer.

Mr. T.J. Speer was an accountant by trade. He did more tax returns in his lifetime than six H&R Block locations. For a while, his office was located on Concord Road in Smyrna, Georgia. But as he got older, Mr. Speer closed his Smyrna office and moved his operation into the front bedroom of his large, craftsman-style home on Forrest Avenue in Riverside.

Mr. Speer was a large, imposing man, with snow white hair, a voice more gruff and deeper than John Wayne's immortal movie character, Rooster Cogburn. He smoked Pall Mall's for so many years that the index and middle fingers of his right hand were discolored to a deep, yellowish tone. The only time his neighbors saw him without a Pall Mall between his fingers was the night his body "lay a corpse" at Castellaw Funeral Home.

Mr. Speer's home was forever a flurry of activity, particularly during tax season - with a countless parade of cars coming and going at all hours. Part of the activity during the summer was the arrival of the Speer's three grandchildren - David, Debbie, and Russell. When they came to stay for the summer, Mr. Speer's wife, Mary, became a doting grandmother. She hauled those lucky kids all over Fulton, Cobb, and Douglas County. Swimming, summer ball, sightseeing, and playing in the area's parks were just a few of the things that "Nanny" Speer did for her beloved grandkids.

Rarely did "Papa T." ever go on these excursions. But, he made up for it in another highly memorable way.

Whenever David, Debbie and Russell came to visit, "Papa T." frequently treated them, as well as all the other neighborhood children, to Schwan's ice cream. This writer witnessed on many occasions Mr. Speer buying frozen treats for at least a dozen children who were crowded around the Schwan's ice cream truck. Though it only cost him $1.20 at most, this rugged, old, teddy-bear of a man might as well have been Donald Trump passing out $100 bills. The neighborhood kids loved him, and their parents were most willing and glad to let him buy their offspring yet another round of Schwan's.

More than this, with each Nutty Buddy and Push-Up, both Mr. T.J. Speer and the Schwan driver won the hearts of many young people. Their generous deeds impacted more lives than they ever possibly realized.

Hot, summer weather in Georgia was made a little cooler and a little more bearable because of these two great gentlemen.

Every time David Lee Roth & EVH sing and play that song, this Riverside boy remembers our community's version of the, "Ice Cream Men."


"Well I'll Be John Brown"


- David Decker
  March 7, 2011