Funny how an appliance can trigger a memory. A juicer I saw at Sam’s Club did just that.
Back in the 1960s, the place to go after school let out was Perry’s Drug Store on Main Street. There were only four or five booths, and they were always filled by an after-school crowd. There was lots of “courting,” gossip, laughs, tall tales, and student-about-teachers complaints that took place in those crowded booths.
Perry’s wasn’t a large place. It had a middle shelf with items for sale on both sides; and, of course, items lined the walls. There was a section for LPs and 45s and a magazine rack that also offered comic books. Towards the back of the store was the pharmacy and the counter where prescriptions were exchanged for medicine. But, the main attraction for kids was the soda fountain.
During the time I frequented Perry’s Drug Store, there were several ladies who worked there, but the two I remember most are Isabel Vanhook and Dixie Barker. Those two would sell cokes, scoop ice cream, make sundaes, concoct delicious milkshakes; and, best of all, make orangeades and lemonades.
Along the wall behind the counter were various sized cups, napkins, and other tools of the trade including the milkshake machine and the juicer. I was intrigued by the makings of milkshakes, even though they weren’t my favorite and cost a lot of money. I loved the whir of the mixer and watching Isabel or Dixie jostle the cup to make sure the mixture was smooth.
If I actually had enough money to order an orangeade, I stepped right up and watched every step of the operation. First the orange was sliced in half and each half in turn was squeezed dry by the juicer. Then a squirt of sugar syrup was added to the juice along with water and crushed ice to make a big cup of the taste of summer. You can’t imagine how delicious an orangeade from Perry’s was!
I don’t know if an after-school crowd even congregates any more. Now there are drive-through windows with unnamed people stirring up and dispensing drinks. The camaraderie of a small-town soda fountain may be lost. I hope something good is in its place.