The Milkman of the past. A fixture of an era gone by. At first glance, it may seem as though they were simply delivery men, tasked with providing us our milk and dairy products every morning. For many, the Milkman was even more abstract, as his early morning hours meant that many times he was never seen by the customers, and their order of cold milk or fresh cream was already waiting on their doorstep or in their refrigerator before they ever rose for the day. While some may believe that the extent of their actions stopped at their job description, I have had the pleasure of hearing firsthand accounts of several true stories of Milkmen that worked here in Souderton and Telford. The stories show that many times these men went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure our little community always had the essentials, even when the odds were against them.
The first story involves a Milkman, a broken storm door, and a slightly hurt ego. It was about 4 a.m., only one hour into the early morning shift of a local Milkman working for Hoffman’s Dairy (based in Telford). The sun was several hours from coming up and this Milkman was working his way down Highland St. in Telford, performing his deliveries as normal. He pulled his truck in front of just one of the many houses he would deliver to that day, and proceeded to gather the customer’s order and make the trek to the front door. As the Milkman neared the door, he felt a tug on his foot, and the next thing he knew he found himself lying flat up against a storm door with broken glass bottles of milk and creamer surrounding him. As a Milkman, vigilance was key, but in the dark early morning hours it was impossible for him to have seen the garden hose left draped across his path. The Milkman, hoping it was only his ego that was hurt, was quickly disappointed when he began to feel the pain in his hand and realized he was badly cut. He knew he needed medical attention. However, he also felt an extreme sense of duty and commitment to his customers, community, and completing his route. He realized what he had to do, and returned to his truck to wrap his hand. It was not a hospital that the Milkman went to next, but rather to the next house to deliver their quarts of milk and pints of creamer. Customers needed their orders, and he had a job to do. Although the Milkman made it to the local doctor an hour later to have the wounds cleaned and properly bandaged, it was only because his route took him right past the doctor’s home. After his hand was treated by the doctor, he
proceeded on with his route because, as he stated to me, “it was about service to the people in my community.” That day, no mother on his route was without milk for her children, and no father without the cream for his morning coffee. The sense of duty to the community and commitment to serve them, no matter the obstacles, was something this Milkman held true.
The second story, and my personal favorite, involves a Milkman who worked for West View Dairy located on Green Street in Souderton. The year was 1960 and a large snowstorm was set to arrive the following day. This Milkman, although just a young man of 21, was no stranger to our local weather, and dreaded the mountains of snow and the difficulties they would create on the roadways in the days to come. While some people were preparing to call out from work and settle in the next day, this Milkman knew there were people relying on him: One household especially. That night he parked his refrigerated truck near his home in Tylersport and filled the remaining space in the back with his sled from home. He was not going to be caught off-guard. The next morning the Milkman began his route at 3 a.m. The snow had started to fall, but it was just a light coating. He still had time to complete his deliveries before the roads got too bad if he hurried. He was able to complete his deliveries in Harleysville, Morwood, and Tylersport, before making his way toward Telford. At this point it was almost 10 a.m. and the roads had become covered, dangerous, and nearly impossible to drive on. As the Milkman made his way to the bottom of what was known as “Ingram’s Hill” on County Line Road, he saw that the road was blocked and no longer passable. This proved to be an issue, as it was the only road providing access to the home of one of his customers, a family with a mother who had two small twin boys. The mother relied heavily on the milk for her boys, and the Milkman knew this was a delivery that must be completed. As a man who would soon be expecting his first child, he would not allow this mother and her children to go without. The Milkman parked the truck at the bottom of the hill and removed the sled from the back, which he proceeded to load with several quarts of milk for the family. The only route to the home was through several farm fields. Although it was the most direct route, the terrain seemed formidable. Nonetheless, the Milkman set out on his trek across the fields, with snow in some places reaching waist-deep. After several minutes of trudging he was able to see the smoke rising from the chimney of his destination in the distance. When the Milkman got closer, he saw the family standing at their front door, as they had seen a man pulling a sled across the field and came to see who this could be. When they realized it was their loyal Milkman delivering their much-needed supplies, the mother exclaimed “The Milkman! It’s our Milkman!” and the family came out to meet the tired, yet accomplished, young man. The family claimed they never expected him to make it with the roads being blocked, and thanked him profusely for his delivery under such harsh conditions. The Milkman grabbed his sled and took his leave. Although he would have loved to stay and chat, there were more families who required servicing, and more orders to be delivered. He turned and trudged his way back across the snow-covered fields to load his sled back on the truck and continue his journey until every last family had their deliveries. This Milkman did not let a snowstorm or blocked road get in the way of keeping him from his obligation and duty to his community.
It’s clear that in his time, the Milkman was not simply just a delivery man, rather a pinnacle of honor, responsibility, and commitment to one’s community. These stories are but two examples of how such ideals were portrayed in action by the Milkmen who served our towns of Souderton and Telford.
I relate these stories through the experiences of one particular Milkman, who has not only been a pinnacle in our community, but also a pinnacle in my life. That man is Richard Brandis, whom I have the honor of calling my grandfather.
