This is my ninth year of blogging the A to Z Challenge. Everyday I will share something about my family’s life during 1950. This was a year that the USA federal census was taken and the first one that I appear in. At the end of each post I will share a book from my childhood collection.
Looking out of my bedroom window early in the morning, I would watch the milk man with his horse and wagon go down the street I must have been two because when my sister was born we moved, and my bedroom was in the back of the house, with no window on the street. He left our milk in a gray tin box on the back porch. That was in Springfield. Later, when we moved to Detroit, we had a milk chute on the side of the house. It had a little door on the inside and a little door on the outside so the milkman, who now drove a truck, could put the milk in and we could get it out on the other side. On cold winter mornings, the frozen milk rose up over the top of the brown bottle. For years I saved milk caps in a kitchen drawer. Just saved them, never did anything with them. After the heroin epidemic came, everybody sealed up those milk chutes so no skinny thieves could climb in the house that way.