In the 19040s, we celebrated July 4^th by making ice cream. My mother saved extra milk, cream, and eggs to mix and heat with the junket, sugar, and vanilla.  She started soon after breakfast because the mix needed to set.

Meanwhile my father cleaned up the green-painted wood freezer keg, and my younger sister and I brought a panful of cattle salt from the barn. Then the three of us took the pickup to the ice house in town to buy a 50-pound block of ice.

My father used ice tongs to carry the ice to the pickup and, once home, to the cement slab at the bottom of the back porch steps. He split the block with an axe, placed half in a gunny sack, and broke it and then a smaller chunk into small pieces with the flat of the axe. The leftover went into the seldom used icebox.

By then the magic mix was ready in the tall can holding the paddle that churned the mix. My parents attached the end of the paddle protruding from the top of the can to the crank-driven turning mechanism resting across the keg’s top. He lifted the keg into a tin dishpan to catch the salty water that would ooze through the keg’s small, round holes.

I turned the crank, easy at that stage, while he poured alternating layers of ice and salt around the can. Then my father cranked, and my sister and I took turns standing on the keg to hold it down. The crank’s movement challenged our balance and sometimes made us jump off. We also occasionally stuck a finger into the drainage holes to clear them. When he had to add ice and salt, I cranked, using both hands as the mix hardened—and salivating in anticipation of the delicious treat. We knew the ice cream was ready when even he had trouble turning the crank.

He removed the cranking mechanism, took off the lid, and held down the can while my mother pulled out the paddle, placing its bottom in a bowl held by my mother. He replaced the lid and packed ice over the top while we went inside to clean off the paddle—our only tastes until after dinner with a few guests. Then my mother dipped generous portions of the ice cream from the can, and each person added chocolate syrup, fresh fruit, or chocolate cake to taste. We ate most of the ice cream then, and finished it before time to milk.

When darkness first fell, my sisters and I challenged the lightning bugs with our sparklers. Then we headed for the fairgrounds with sweaters to watch the fireworks.

—Carolyn Mulford