A mural now decorates the former site of the Farmers Creamery at the corner of Wolfe and Jackson streets.
by Emmett Snead
My very first memory of a Fredericksburg Farmers Market was of the one located on a vacant lot across from what was A.W. Mitchell, at the corner of Wolfe and Prince Edward streets. A.W. Mitchell also stored tractors and trucks that were for sale on the same lot. This was in the mid-1950s. Back then it was the place to go on Saturdays.
Not only did all the townspeople come there to get produce, but A.W. Mitchell was also the hangout place for farmers on Saturdays, along with the Farmers Creamery, which was only a block away.
My dad delivered his golden Guernsey milk to Farmers Creamery. For those of you who were not living here–or living–in the 1950s, all the counties surrounding Fredericksburg were only populated by farmers. There were zero subdivisions.
Saturdays were always a good time. After breakfast, my dad (who had been up since 4 a.m. to milk the cows) would take me with him to start up his dump truck. It was a green International from the early 1940s. He named it the “Green Hornet.” After backing up to the milk room, he would fill it with 10-gallon milk cans, sometimes showing off by lifting two cans at once into the back of the truck.
He had been a wrestler at the College of William & Mary.
The milk cans had been stored in a water cooler. It was a giant version of a Coca-Cola cooler from back in the day. On hot summer days, I would immerse my arms into the water cooler up to my elbows to cool off. My dad would back the dump truck up to the Farmers Creamery loading dock on Wolfe Street and after placing the cans on the loading dock, he’d then place them on rollers that would carry the cans into the dairy to be processed.
It was quite an involved process that was fun to watch. My dad was quite familiar with it all, including the jobs in the laboratory. He had worked there in the evenings as a teenager while attending James Monroe High School. Back then, James Monroe High School was located where Maury Commons is now.
After unloading the truck, my dad would look for a place to park it nearby. Farmers Creamery had a retail store where you could buy the dairy products that they produced. We would go to the dairy store first where he would buy us each an Eskimo Pie or a Nutty Buddy. If you were a dairy farmer or a member of his/her family (there was a female dairy farmer, Agnes McGee, in Spotsylvania County), you could buy most ice cream products at a discount at Farmers Creamery for 5 cents each. I always thought that was a pretty good deal.
Next, we would go to the Fredericksburg Farmers Market. Our favorite fruits were peaches, cantaloupes and sweet cherries. One of my earliest memories is seeing a truck loaded with peaches and some sweet cherries. It would fill your senses.
The cherries were perfectly ripened. They were in quart boxes with metal rims, designed to hold the boxes together longer and prevent the fruit from scarring.
That day my dad bought a case (16 quarts) of cherries. I don’t see quart boxes like that anymore.
I think that fruit truck belonged to Georgie Miller and Roy Fist, from somewhere in the mountains.
I ate cherries and spit seeds that whole day.
Years later when I saw the movie, “The Witches of Eastwick” with Jack Nicholson and Cher, it reminded me of the day I ate all of those cherries. My dad’s goal each Saturday seemed to be to fill up the floorboard space and the middle of the seat with fresh fruit to take home.
Next, before going home for dinner (what we now call lunch), we would go into A.W. Mitchell. Mitchell (as everyone called the business) was the dealership for International tractors and trucks. They were a full-service dealership with mechanics on duty.
One of the mechanics who worked there, Mr. Thomas Luck, became a lifelong friend of my dad. At that time my dad and grandfather had four International tractors, one International dump truck and an International pickup. Not only did Mitchell keep a large inventory of International parts on hand, but also a large inventory of hardware and tools. It was a thriving business owned by A.W., who was the eldest of 11 siblings and uncle of Tommy, Berkley and John Mitchell. He also owned the Colonial Transit Bus Service.
Later on, I would take that bus part of the way home from school. I’d get off at Lee Drive, which was the only way to get to Braehead Farm at the time, and walk the rest of the way home. There were half a dozen or so other classmates who rode the bus farther to Hillcrest, the small community near Belman’s Grocery, where Paul’s Bakery is now.
The way kids grow up today is so completely different from how it was in my generation. How can staring at some type of screen all weekend compare to being outdoors on adventures with family and friends? I guess the best we could hope for is some sort of a hybrid of yesterday and today.