The Ice cream Truck


When I was a kid, we lived on a quiet dead end street of about 10 homes. I was the only child under 16. Needless to say, not many ice cream trucks made their way past our house. We could hear them on the other streets. They just never came down ours. I can’t blame them.

One day, we were outside and we heard the ice cream truck. I don’t remember if I said anything. But the next thing I knew my Dad dropped what he was doing, jumped in his truck and drove suddenly away without a word.

A few minutes later, Mom and I could hear the ice cream truck getting louder. Then, over the hill came Dad in his truck followed by a slightly perturbed ice cream man in his van.

I had a Good Humor Strawberry Shortcake Bar. I think it was the best ice cream I’ve ever had in my life.

Now, every time I hear an ice cream truck I think of the man who put the sun, moon, and stars in the sky just for me. And I always will.

Goodbye Daddy.

John William Binkley
June 11, 1949 – December 13, 2010

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