Page 82 - Armstrong Bloodline - ebook_Neat

While here, my father worked for a time as a milkman. He took over
his route from a man by the name of Rocky Heim whom he had
never met. Interestingly, this same man married his half-sister's
daughter, Phyllis Heim. He subsequently met him after his return to
Minnesota and described him as being a hell of a nice guy. Perhaps a
note for later generations might be appropriate here as to what a
“milkman” was... For many years, it was common practice in the
USA to have milk products delivered to your door in the morning.
Several milk companies had owned a fleet of trucks and employed drivers who were assigned routes which
they traversed every day delivering the milk products their clients had ordered. Like newspaper deliverers,
they were responsible for keeping track of the products delivered, collecting money, balancing their accounts,
and looking for new customers within the route area assigned to them.

One story that has endured through the years is a trick that my parents played on a cousin, Kenneth
Anderson). Kenneth was the stereotypical Wisconsin farm boy who, in his youth, blushed easily and was more
than a little naive. My parents attended his wedding and afterward, he and his bride Vickie drove to
Minneapolis where they were to begin their honeymoon. Somehow my parents found out where they were
staying and waited until they were comfortably settled in the Bridal Suite. My father, pretending to be the
hotel manager, called their room, cited the importance of maintaining the hotel's spotless reputation, and
demanded to see a copy of the newlywed's marriage certificate. Shortly thereafter (to the glee of my parents),
Kenneth rushed down the stairs (with his clothes in a state of some disrepair), requested to talk to the
manager and, when the manager arrived, presented his marriage certificate for inspection. Needless to say,
the manager had no idea what poor Kenneth was talking about!

Post-World War II America was attempting to reestablish itself after the lunacy of
the second great war, and the influx of hundreds of thousands of veterans back into
the economy resulted in a period of considerable upheaval. According to my father,
he and mom had a great life in California, but he wanted to go to school, and the
only way that the government would pay for a veteran's schooling was if he were to
return to the state of his prewar residence. As a result, they returned to Minnesota
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prior to my birth. At the time of my birth on Nov. 1, 1946, my father was working
as a clerk
at the Lake Street Shade and Awning company and living with his parents on
the Hillcroft Farm in Wayzata, MN. After working there approximately one
year, he switched to a night watchman job at a Sears and Roebuck warehouse.
During this period, my father and mother also purchased their first home – an
extremely modest cracker box home on Old Excelsior Road near Excelsior, MN
where I celebrated my first birthday in 1947. In 1994, I visited this area with
my Aunt Delores, and we found the little house still standing where it had
been when I lived in it nearly 50 years earlier. Also during this period, my
parents attended the Excelsior Covenant Church in Excelsior, Minnesota. It
was while this church was being built that I was baptized in the basement of a
building belonging to the Masons in Excelsior, where the congregation met in With Aunt Dorothy at Excelsior Park
the interim.

My parents also spent a lot of time with my Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Roy who used to visit them often. A
favorite place they often visited was Excelsior Park near Lake Minnetonka.

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