
Written By John R. Greenwood
[From the 2025 Summer Magazine]

When Saratoga's Victor Price sold me Price’s Dairy in 1979, I never imagined the volume of stories I would accumulate in the decade that followed. One of those stories involves a 1961 International step-van that had seen better days. It sat minding its own business in Vic's driveway at 308 Caroline St. the day he handed over the keys to this 24-year-old father who had no idea what he had gotten himself into. The business included two road-worthy milk trucks and the rusty old International, whose primary function was as a secondary milk cooler. The truck's refrigeration system consisted of two steel cold plates that would freeze up when plugged in. The cold plates acted like giant blocks of ice that would last all day and keep the milk cold during deliveries, provided you moved like a track star and didn't leave the back door open.
This particular truck had another vital function during those years. The Saratoga County 4-H used it every July at the Saratoga County Fair as its walk-in cooler. The 4-H Booth was and still is, a perennial favorite of hungry and thirsty fairgoers. Mr. Price would fill the truck with pint drinks from the Saratoga Dairy on Excelsior Ave. and restock the cooler daily throughout the week. The use of the truck/cooler was provided free of charge. The quantity of products sold throughout the week was more than an adequate profit for both parties. Pints of lemonade, fruit punch, orange drink, and half pints of chocolate milk sell like crazy on hot July days.
This brings me to the title of this piece and some questionable business decisions I made in the early 1980s. Be reminded that forty years ago, things were a little different. That old 1961 International had about as much chance of passing NYS Inspection as me staying up past 10pm in 2025. As a cooler, it was rock solid; as transportation, it was lucky to move at all. It did start and move under its own power, but the brakes and the brake lights had long since retired. It shifted with encouragement but with no brakes; why would you want to go faster? Do you see my dilemma? I had to find a way to get this twenty-year-old rust bucket from Caroline St. to the Saratoga County Fairground in Ballston Spa without paying for a tow truck, losing my license, or causing me or Joe-Public serious injury. You sometimes make irrational decisions when there are bills to pay. This wasn’t the only crazy thing I would do in my decade as a DBA.
So, with a planned route in my head and my friend/employee Dave following in a healthy truck with working brake lights, off we crept toward Ballston. Using side streets, back roads, a hint of an emergency brake, and a wing and a prayer, we slowly weaved our way across town and out Geyser Road toward Milton. The plan was to come in from the backside of the fairground and avoid the 45-degree climb up Fairground Hill (I’m not that stupid!). With white knuckles and a racing heart, I arrived at the main gate, no one the wiser as to the epic journey I'd just taken.
There is no greater thrill than to partake in these roll-the-dice decisions that you can carry with you for a lifetime. Nostalgia has fueled me for seventy years. My greatest joy has been keeping my roots planted in the nutrients of Saratoga County and the people who live here.
The ironic twist to this crazy but true story is that I would spend the majority of my career in transportation safety. You could say, teach what you know. In my case, I preached what I knew better.
Be safe out there.