Other Columns by Thomas D. Segel
Thomas D. Segel Bio

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For the past several days our 24 hour news channels and daily newspapers have been filled with stories related to the 10 year old murder case of a small girl, JonBenet

Ramsey. It is possible that her killer has finally been arrested. Here in South Texas our television news has repeatedly run stories about a 14 year old girl, who was kidnapped, raped and stabbed 17 times, then left for dead. The little girl survived and the two boys who committed those vile acts are now in custody. Today we are bombarded with so many of these unimaginable things. The War on Terror, corporate corruption, Internet pornography, escalating child abuses, are constantly in our faces. This is far from the world of our childhood.

Several years ago I wrote about a time long ago, contrasting life then and now. I think that now, when life is filled with so many images of horror, it might be fitting to visit again about those "good old days".

Whenever I start gritting my teeth over the degradation of mankind, I try to think back to those distant hot summer days and long departed ice trucks. If your visit to planet Earth started after World War II you most likely have no such memories. However, in the 30s and 40s the arrival of an ice truck was a most anticipated event.

With no air conditioning in homes, summers were spent with windows wide open, thus allowing the house to catch any hint of a breeze. Much of the family activity took place in front of the house, with grownups fanning themselves while rocking in the porch swing and the kids tussling in the grass or going through the motions of playing croquet. Those things were taking place up and down the block...until the ice truck came into view.

If it were not already in the window, people would get their ice signs and place them in easy view. The sign told our iceman we were in need of his services. It also indicated just how large a block of ice we wanted for the cooler. Coolers or "ice boxes" came in

different sizes. You might want a ten-pound, twenty-five pound...or even a fifty-pound block of ice for your house. It was the only method you had to keep milk fresh and food from spoiling.

While the iceman was making his deliveries....kids lurked in the shadows. The minute his back was turned, we would race to the truck. A couple of us would climb inside and start searching for broken chunks of ice...while the look-out kept a sharp eye for the ice

man's return.

Many were the times when the driver would leave his ice pick in the back of the truck. It was then we would hack away at the big blocks, trying to free larger chunks for our special enjoyment. Once our chilly larceny was completed, we would grab up our treasures and race away to some secret hiding place where we could bask in the coolness

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