The bygone era of home deliveries
I grew up in Maryborough, Victoria only a stone’s throw from the main street and my early memories of the daily home deliveries in the 1960s are somewhat vague.
We had milk and bread home delivered most days.
The postman frequently delivered mail and we had newspapers delivered daily.
By the time I was about 12, I was introduced to the world of work by doing my own home deliveries of newspapers and do not miss those bitter cold mornings causing frozen fingers and toes but relished the little gifts (especially monetary ones) at Christmas from my appreciative customers.
Most of my earnings were spent on comics which I bought every week from my newsagency boss.
— Geoff Allemand
So many home-delivered items
These days Shepparton’s central business district is filled with traffic zooming by, shoppers looking to park their cars and people rushing from one store to another with their shopping lists, but if you took yourself back in time to the mid-1950s those were the days of home deliveries of milk, bread, ice, fruit and vegetables and more.
The gentle horse clip-clopping along your street in the early hours before breakfast announced the arrival of fresh milk or cream.
The horse, familiar with the route, knew just where and when to stop without direction.
The “milky” would exchange your empty bottles for full ones and continue from house to house.
The bread man also came later in the morning by horse and cart.
Fresh unsliced loaves with a choice of white or brown, the brown much darker than our wholemeal loaves today.
The grocer came less often, usually once a week.
The shopping list was dropped off at the store by someone in the family; no phone orders then; in fact most homes didn’t even have a landline.
Some days the grocer would take time for a cup of tea and a chat after he deposited the box of groceries on the kitchen table.
The greengrocer came by once a week in his little truck full of fresh greens and fruit.
Before the refrigerator made its appearance perishables were kept in an ice cabinet and the ice man must have had a chilly job, especially in winter, when depositing the large block of ice into the top compartment of the ice chest.
The ice melted over the next few days into the drip tray underneath and the water was emptied out accordingly before it formed a pool of water onto the floor.
Postmen rode bicycles in those days and deliveries were made twice a day and Saturday mornings.
The postie blew a whistle after each mail delivery.
It was always a thrill to hear the postie’s whistle as one hoped for a letter from far-off friends or family or maybe a mystery parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
The garbage man came round once a week as they still do but no automatic lifters on the truck then.
A couple of fit men stood on a narrow ledge on the back of the truck and jumped off and on to gather bins and empty into the truck.
Bins were smaller then as there weren’t as many choices of products in grocery stores and most homes had an incinerator in the back yard where appropriate rubbish was burnt.
Garbos these days never leave their truck so they miss out on the bottle of beer left for them by householders every Christmas.
In some areas if a beer was not forthcoming a small deposit of rubbish would be left outside that house in protest.
A less sought-after job was the night cart man.
We won’t elaborate on his job except to say he was the service man for those homes who had not yet had sewerage installed.
The Rawleigh’s man was a less frequent delivery man.
He went door to door with a variety of items in his suitcase, from packet food items to pharmaceutical products.
A very popular item was the tin of Rawleigh’s Salve for man or beast which was a must-have in almost every medicine cabinet.
Times change but memories of the delivery man takes us back to a more simplified world; a world with less choices but more familiarity, jolliness and a chat with the suppliers of our daily goods.
— Margaret Marlow (Lost Shepparton co-editor)
Comments from our Lost Shepparton Facebook fans about their memories of the home deliveries.
Andrea Sweeney: I had a photo of the horse drawn milko outside our house in Old Dookie Rd circa 1959. I think the milkman was Mr McCarthy. Memory might be a little skewed.
Sue Cam: I remember Mr Porter from another dairy. He had a big skewbald maybe gelding, and Mr Ducat had big Prince, an ex-trotter called Roanie, and another big bay maybe an ex-trotter. Those were the days lying in bed waiting to hear the clip clop.
Lyn Thomson: Mr Ellis was our milkie. The horse knew the drill and never missed a beat.
Vicki de Quilettes: I can still hear the sound of the horse clopping along our street and the clinking of the glass milk bottles as they rocked around in the back of the milk cart.
Lesley Fowler: I remember when the milkman used to fill our billy up with milk, then we went all modern and got it in bottles.
Les Darilyn Goldsmith: Mum caught the milkman washing his can in the channel in front of our place in Numurkah Rd.
Maggie Peterson: I remember that milk delivery horse and cart. There was also a baker’s cart and horse, Higgins I think. My mother used to embarrass her children by taking a shovel to any horse manure left on the street and put it in the garden.
Mick Shiels: I drove a horse-drawn bread cart for Higgins Bakery in about 1965.
Daryl Clark: When we were little kids in the school holidays my brother & I would jump on the cart & ride next to the baker for about 100 yards and then run back home so excited. It really is a memorable highlight of our childhood.
Lyn Hardiman: My uncle Tom McCarthy used to drive one of the bread horse and carts.
Mara Sortino: The clip clop of the horses hooves was a delightful sound. Mum would buy some sticky fruit buns as well. Every now and then the milkman would drop a bottle on the road making a loud crashing sound. Good memories.
Dianne Morgan: We shopped at Grist’s. A lovely man and he would deliver your order for free.
Ann Murray Jackson: We shopped at Levetts and Grists. Each were delightful gentlemen. Mr Grist would always give a friendly nod as he kept working in his starched white coat.
Margaret Ryan: Yes, Mr.Grist also delivered to us and he brought the green grocer’s order as well. Sometimes the green grocer brought our groceries.
Maree Chin: Wow. I remember my mum shopping there. We got our fruit from the green grocer who travelled around in a VW van and pulled up at your house. Thanks for the memory.
John Brady: I have vivid memories of Denis the Englishman who used to drive the van for a number of years He was not known for his speed as he would often stop and have a cuppa with the older customers.
• Geoff Allemand is an amateur photographer and admin of the Lost Shepparton Facebook page. Please share your pics of the past at pastpics@mmg.com.au