Remembering Snelgrove's Ice Cream

Snelgrove's 21st South flagship eatery underwent numerous transformations before it finally closed it's doors on June 7, 2002 (shown here). Noticeably absent were the counters and stools along the store's west edge where you could order a triple thick malt and receive the metal container with whatever portion of the ice cream confection that wouldn't fit into your glass. Also changed from year's past: on the back wall there used to be dozens of round, painted wooden disks of various colors with ice cream flavors designated. It seems like the colors scheme ran more to pale green and salmon colors then. 



One thing never changed: the wait. Service at the ice cream store was always slow, especially when you finally made it to your booth. The waitresses wore stodgy dresses with aprons and usually seemed to be from decades long past. I remember Paul Sommer once ordered a vanilla shake. When the order finally came out he was given a banana shake. He asked the waitress what was up with banana and she told him, "I couldn't believe anyone would come here and just order vanilla!"






























Some may remember the night in early 1970 when Brighton successfully won the Region 3 Wrestling tournament and Coach Neff, his wife, Coach Jesperson and most of the team filled a back room to celebrate the victory. Brighton was brand new and had difficulty winning at any sport. Coach Neff elevated wrestling to something that made the student body proud. As usual, the wait for the ordered ice cream was a long one. Kelly 'Bubba' Brown made some unfortunate public observations on the nature of marshmallow topping. We never took him out for ice cream again. Here's another photo of three guys who spent way too much time with ice cream.


























Goodbye Alan. May God be with you...



1966-1969: I remember Alan from when we met at Butler Junior High in Cottonwood Heights in the late 1960's. His hair was long, but not quite as long as these pictures. We took geometry together from Mrs. Moss, and reading from Mrs. Sparks, and algebra from Mr. Sjoblem and Mr. Reeves. We both loved Mr. Walker's science classes. I remember Alan's confidant drawing capabilities on his book cover in science class, 1968: cartoon caricatures of various teachers, all easily recognizable. He had a gift; I envied his easy skill with a pencil or pen. And he was smart, a straight A student. Mr. Walker encouraged him to draw more. We both drew sketches for the old Butler Banner student newspaper in Mrs. Boggess's Journalism class. He was always listed in the Ideals section of the Banner: ideal hair, ideal eyes, etc. He introduced me to psychedelic patterns from posters and record albums. I tried to draw them like he could, but I was just copying him. On Saturday sometimes, in the fall of 1968 he and I would visit Loftus' Novelty Shop along with a few other close friends, hang out in Auerbach's parking garage and explore the streets in the lower Avenues. We had a fascination with fake vomit, fake dog poop, trick gum that turned your teeth black, and with disappearing ink. I remember him climbing the rope with no hands in Mr. Naylor's gym classes. I learned to do it too. He seemed skilled at everything. He loved playing dodge ball and volleyball. He and I and Brian Teran authored and illustrated one partial issue of "Garbage"magazine, where Alan clearly had all the talent for the three of us. Our invented character, Dandelion Man, had all the powers of a dandelion. He was such a good cartoonist, even in Junior High! Mr. Roberts was amazed. We visited Mr. Kochevar's office together once when John Shurtleff set a mouse trap in Mrs. Moss's desk drawer. We ate lunch together every day at school. We waited for the bell to ring to allow us to go to class after lunch. We often stood at the edge of the gym and debated whether we should ask a girl to dance on our own or be forced to by the gym coaches. I remember he danced with Patti Roylance but I couldn't read whether he had a crush on her or not. I think he did. We worked together on the 9th grade assembly, a juvenile set up of Rowan and Martin's "Laugh In". We weren't allowed to say, "You bet your bippy!" but I think Dave Graehl said it anyway. Alan had a rapid fire laugh, squinting his eyes. We took the lights out of the auditorium ceiling and dropped paper airplanes on the student body. We watched drug awareness movies together in the auditorium too, from the balcony. They were marginally helpful. We watched the year end movie "Stagecoach" when everyone's class had assigned seating. We spent our money together on Lagoon Day. He laughed while I threw baseballs at lead bottles. Then we both rode "The Hammer" and we didn't feel like throwing up at all. Alan was easy to talk with and easy to like. I met his father, Shigeru, once. When we got into high school we stayed friends, but grew distant. He was a wrestler. He was the student body president. Then he was gone.

I saw him sporadically over the years. I will always think of him in his tan jeans, Alta Adlers and black converse tennis shoes. I was so glad to see him at our reunion last year. I meant to spend more time talking with him. I thought we'd have plenty of time to catch up. We didn't. I will miss him.