John Creighton

I miss the Tastee Treet.

My family and I went out for summer time burgers tonight.  They were good greasy burgers from Five Guys Burgers.  But our meal didn’t even compare to my memories of the Tastee Treet.

My mom, Alec and I often ate lunch at the Tastee Treet on summer Thursdays when we were out of school and Dad went to Rotary.  I always ordered a cheeseburger with ketchup and onions, fries and a chocolate shake.  I dipped my fries in the shake.  Mom was an enthusiastic fan of Audrey’s famous Hickory Burger.  Sometimes we’d eat on the picnic bench.  Other times we’d take the food home.

Saturday nights the whole family would go for ice cream cones.  Standing on the red step built so kids could reach the window, I ordered a chocolate-vanilla twist with crunchy sprinkles or sometimes dipped in chocolate.  My dad would chat up one of the other patrons while we waited for our cones.  I’d watch the spectacle of bugs zooming toward their final zap in the electric charged light that hung just a few feet from the window.

The Tastee Treet was kitty corner from the swimming pool sitting to the south and east.  It was in a perfect location for a rest period snack – the ten minutes each hour when the life guards took a break.  The trick was making it across the hot asphalt street.  We’d run yelping as fast as we could, trying to stay on the balls or our feet, but the tar still scalded our skin.  Nothing felt quite as sweet as making it to the Audrey’s grass or back to the lawn in Kelley Park.  It would have been too easy to just wear our shoes.

My favorite swim day treat was an ice cream sandwich carefully wrapped in a white paper bag.  I’d lick the edges in a circle until I’d carved out a groove, eat the cookie to the edge of the ice cream and repeat the process again.  A wet swimsuit was far better than a napkin to wash off sticky hands.

Audrey hung in there for all the years I was a regular at the swimming pool closing down the Tastee Treet some time later.  My kids take swimming lessons in Atwood most summers.  They look across the street at the ice cream sign that lit up when I was a kid and ask what it used to be like.

I miss that we’re not able to walk across the street for a cone.

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Thanks to Doug Nichols for the photos.  Found them on Flickr.

Originally published on June 15, 2009 on www.johncr8on.wordpress.com