When it snows and it’s all quiet, it takes me back to my favorite memory with my dad. He plowed snow in the winter at the local Jamesway discount store and A & P grocery store in Somerset, PA in the 1970’s.
He would get up very early in the morning so it would be all plowed before employees started arriving. The stores were supposed to put up all shopping carts the night before.
This started with a WWII truck. The battery was on the passenger floorboard. When I would ride, I would rest my feet on the battery with instructions to avoid the battery terminals.
The next truck was a former municipal truck that was much bigger. It was an International. It was a great step up.
The last truck that he used he built. It was a 5-ton dump that we bought from surplus. He engineered to put a 250 Cummins and 5-speed in it and custom painted it. He put boards on the bed for advertising. It was an exceptional piece of equipment.
I didn’t get to ride with my dad all the time. Some days I would have school. In those days we didn’t get out of school for bad weather! On days that I didn’t have school or the weekend I loved to ride along. It was so quiet and peaceful.
He would make a circle around the parking lot and keep going around and around. I see people today go in straight lines back and forth and just don’t get it. It’s so efficient to go around and keep going around smaller and smaller circles around the parking lot.
We would plow the up to the light poles. Occasionally there would be a random shopping cart that didn’t get put inside the store. We would joke about it and plow it up in a huge pile of snow around the light pole. They would find it in the spring!
We started plowing across the street at the bank and Kentucky Fried Chicken. We also plowed our long driveway in the woods.
Often on days off from school there was a tiny little gas station up the road that was run by a friend of my dad’s. It wasn’t as big as a convenience store today. There was a little device similar to a toaster oven but super fast for packaged sandwiches. They only had a few sandwiches. My favorite was the chuckwagon. I have no idea what it was about that sandwich, but to this day I love a good chuckwagon sandwhich. It must have something to do with the memory of good times with my dad.
This is one photo of the last truck. I know I have other photos of the other truck too somewhere in my collection.
On Beth's Mind 