Ralph, The Ice Cream Man

Children on Sherwood Drive were outside playing various childhood games when the far off sound of Farmer in the Dell caused a sudden stop of activity followed by a burst of energy as everyone went running home to find their 5 cents to hand over to Ralph, the ice cream man. He rode through the hills of Sherwood Forest on a bicycle with a huge freezer compartment attached to his front handlebars, quite a feat for an old man. He must have been at least 50. Those years looked rough on him, he didn’t look like any of our daddies who went off to boring jobs each day and returned for the evening meal by 5:00. No one knew where Ralph went after the ice cream route; no one cared as long as he came back the next day. The mothers in the neighborhood must have never bought ice cream themselves or they would have asked Ralph when was the last time he bathed. When I think back on Ralph I am glad those ice creams were wrapped in paper to separate us from the unwashed.

We had rules in our homes. Daily bathing was not an option. All boys scrubbed extra hard because they didn’t want their mommas coming in there to finish the job. The girls just didn’t want momma to give them a permanent wave, even if it had paper dolls in the box. I knew they just put those paper dolls in there so a child would have something to do while they stayed in exile until the curl fell out a little. I think my momma picked up hair styling from the Tiny Tears doll Santa brought me for Christmas. There was no combing those tight little curls glued right to Tiny’s head. So Tiny could not brush her hair those requested hundred strokes. I brushed mine to no avail; it was still white blonde, thin, and dried out from my last Toni. Momma thought she would improve it by putting Suave conditioner on it. Then it looked dirty blonde, thin, and just plain dirty. I was glad when I got control over my own hair.
Momma in 1954