The Story Teller -- The Milkman on River Road
"It was a small dairy, and most people dropped by and picked up their milk, but a few deliveries were made to the front porch. They called it whole milk in those days. It was not pasteurized. The milk was strained, then put in quart and half-gallon glass containers, then cooled. Fresh milk with cream on the top was special. This was real cow's milk, not the store-bought milk.
Every morning, a quart of milk was placed on the porch of the house at Delaware and Truman Streets. There would be a clean, empty glass quart jar for exchange and sometimes, Harry came out of the house to chat and share a greeting.
I was just a boy who lived next door to the dairy. I delivered milk as a part-time job but even then I knew that the man who talked to me was our very own president. Gee, who would ever think anything great would come from Independence, Missouri. I mean, we are just folks.
One day, an idea popped into my head. I realized that I drank the same milk as our president. My family drinks the same milk as Mr. Citizen. The possibilities of this one thought made me dizzy. If one of our own home-grown folks could become a president, then just think what the rest of us could accomplish. This small seed of possibility has never left me. It was a model of real people and real milk that made me feel better about myself.
Then, one day I realized that everyone in our community was marked with greatness. I began to treat others and see others in a new way. I found a lot of good in people over the years. As a delivery boy of milk, I was touched with the idea that greatness is in every one of us. Harry Truman made me feel important even as a boy of twelve. I guess that's the main job of great people. Independence is a great city filled with great people. Just ask me. Independence is a great place to grow."
