Thursday, November 26, 2009
The Delivery Men
We have a tendency today to pride ourselves on the advances made with household conveniences. There is a gadget or tool to do almost everything. We can chop, peel, clean and disinfect like never before. Our grocery stores are filled with not only fresh, organic foods but also with ready made or instant everything. Along the way to our modern world though, we have also given up some conveniences - the delivery of some food and products right to our front door. Ice was delivered for the 'ice box,' the predecessor of the refrigerator, coal was delivered through a chute to basement coal bins for furnaces, bread and assorted pastries were left at the front door, and milk and dairy products dropped off on porches or in really 'modern' homes, placed in a milk chute. The process was simple for residents of the home - you left the empty, glass milk bottles on the porch along with a note detailing your order for the milkman to 'fill.' Payment was by personal cheque, not credit card, left, again, with the milk bottle empties.
My grandfather, John Gaull Hadden, and his brother, Alexander Gaull Hadden, were two such delivery men in the first half of the twentieth century. Alexander, or Uncle Alec as he was known to me, my father and his siblings, was a Brown's Bread delivery man in Toronto. Uncle Alec is pictured above standing beside his horse-drawn delivery wagon. Many years ago, when Uncle Alec identified himself in the photo for me, he also informed me of the location of the photo, taken in 1928. Although there are only fields behind him and no buildings within sight, today that location is considered to be an older, very urban part of Toronto's east end.
My grandfather, John, delivered milk for Silverwood's Dairy with whom he was employed for over 35 years, beginning his dairy career on December 17, 1935. In 1947, he became a milk route inspector and, in 1953, a milk route foreman. As a child, my grandfather employed me as his 'assistant' - my job was to accompany him to the dairy on Sunday afternoons to balance his books, using a large. pull lever, adding machine. The pay was perfect from my perspective - a small carton of chocolate milk, fresh off the assembly line. Those were the days!
As the result of a car accident in August 1970, John was unable to return to his milk route and so he retired in February 1971.
I was fortunate enough to receive a summary of my grandfather's employment record with Silverwood's Dairy through a simple request to them many years ago for the information. With the more recent concerns and issues about privacy, I am not as certain I would be as successful with the same request today. But it costs nothing to ask and the rewards of obtaining this information are well worth the effort.
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Thanks for this post. I was just reminiscing about Silverwood's Milk Delivery in the 1970s over on my FB with a couple of friends, googled, and found your post. Milk delivery is an integral part of my early childhood memories. Do you remember whether Silverwood's also delivered bread and laundry soap? My mother told me that they did (& she bought it, too).
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My interest is in the Silverwood's Daily on Woodbine North of Danforth. We have no pics of that at all. We would also be curious if your father or grandfather delivered milk (or milk products) to any of the people of the Church of the Resurrection, the church I serve, which is now celebrating its first 100 years.
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Hi, we were just talking about Silverwood's dairy and found your article through google. I worked there in 1947 for the summer, then in 48 & 49 I worked there full-time. My dad and 3 of my siblings also worked there as well in 48 & 49. I worked in the butter room and then in the stock room. My sister received the milk from the farmers. My dad drove between the two plants in Toronto. -- Merv
ReplyDeleteHi my dad worked for browns bread in tor during in early 50s a route builder in those days . The route he held back then was around parlament st and queen . One of the last horse and wagon delivery men, have a picture of him and his horse Cristine A old R.c.m.p horse that would lift its legs in a in a high fashion on its way back to the barn at the end of the day , Till the end of my dads days he often spoke of those days with great pride and joy.
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