My first automobile....

was not a car.  It was a 1948 chevy pickup truck with an icebox on the back out of which I sold ice cream in Newark NJ.

It was the third summer I was working for Good Humor (approx 1965) and I really enjoyed the work.   I made lots of money for a college kid, made kids happy.   I'll never forget the look of the little kid running up to my truck, holding his clenched hand up to me, slowly opening his fingers and saying, "Mister, do I have enough?"   I gave away a lot of ice cream and still felt pretty rich.

Well my dad had a buddy who had a repair shop on rt 22 in Union.   His name was Charlie.   I believe my dad frequnetly stopped off at Charlie's on the way home from work for a little shot of friendly whiskey.   Charlie and his shop were pretty funky.   You definitely could not eat off his repair shop floor. 

Somehow Charlie had this old ice cream truck sitting on his lot.   I believe I bought it for $200 made off Good Humor.  So now I went down each morning to the Eskimo Pie ice cream distributorship and bought my own ice cream and sold it wherever I wanted.   There was a neighborhood called Ironbound (or Down Neck) full of ethnic portuguese who loved their ice cream.   And they knew me as their ice cream man.   So I went back to my old route in competition with Good Humor.   They were not thrilled.....and probably could have gotten me stopped for not having a sales license.   But they didn't.

The truck was ok.   The best parts were the hand throttle that allowed me to truck along at less than 5 mph, and the real brass bells with a string coming through the cab roof that announced my imminent arrival.   Less fun was the fact that the gas tank had a leak about 2/3 way up, so I could never get a fillup or I'd be sloshing out gasoline.   Also those trucks had a finicky linkage for shifting the gears.   They would tend to hang up in second, and not budge until you stopped the truck, opened the hood, and pulled them apart by hand.   (I once had another old chevy truck do the same trick to me in stop and go traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge.   The New Yorkers were not thrilled as I stopped in traffic and got out of the truck to pull the maneuver..)

The hairiest part was a daily routine I had for getting onto rte 22 in the eastbound direction.   I had to enter the fast lane from an island.   The entry was at such an angle that the mirrors didn't give me any clue to oncoming traffic and the icebox blocked the view looking backwards.   So I stopped the truck, put on the emergency brake, slid over to the passenger side, leaned out the passenger windown, waiting for a huge break in traffic, hurled myself back to the driver's side, slipped the emergency brake, threw the poor thing in 1st, and roared onto the highway.....totally blind to what was coming.   If I'ver ever prayed for something specific, it was probably then.    Never did get hit, but heard a few horns.

One day the truck broke down completely.   I was facing total ice cream meltage.   So I called all the kids in the neighborhood and gave away all the ice cream.   That was really fun.

Selling ice cream was one of my best jobs.   I was really good at it.   Maybe I'll do it again.   Good Humor watch out!