Back in the late 1940's, I grew up in the city of Winnipeg. We had an ice box that kept our food and milk cold. The upper portion had a door that opened and the block of ice was placed in side.
A tray caught the water and it had to be emptied regularly. My job was to take my rubber tired "road king" wagon and head to the "Arctic Ice Co" for a block of ice. We lived in the middle of the block so I had to go north to the end of the street. then three or four blocks over, towards downtown. The tougher section seemed to lie in that direction. With my quarter clutched in my hand I would make the journey with my trusty wagon trailing on behind. The last section of my journey was down an old dark and dirty back lane. When I reached the loading dock I would trade my money for my eighteen to twenty square inch block of ice and then make a bee-line for home. Depending on the temperature, the ice melted rather fast, dripped from the wagon and left a wet trail behind me a half blind indian scout could follow. This was one time haste did not make waste. The round trip did not take an hour unless I wandered, on the outbound section. The trip home was rapid as I was afraid one day I would get home with only water. What I hated about going for ice was the fact that I was regularly prayed upon by ruffians that stole my quarter and I was forced to go home with no money and no ice to face a dressing down by my parents. I still remember some of my fathers advise. Particularly "stand up like a man and defend yourself. Yea, right. For gosh sakes I was only eight years old and felt like five. There were times when I took a round about ways to reach my goal to avoid being robbed. At some point the dressing down I received when I got home grew worse in my mind than fighting back. Also, unaware to me, I took on a spurt of growth at a time I deceided I had had enough. The next time I was attacked I stood my ground, fought back, caused one bloody nose and some ripped clothes, including my own, and completed my mission. In the months that followed I was jeered at and had stones pitched at me but never again robbed. I never forgot the lesson. The damage to my clothes was more than the value of the quarter but my parents never said a word