Eureka's cholesterol connection; or, why real Eurekans didn't drink skim milk

By VJ Smith

I have a high cholesterol level. The last time I had it checked my doctor informed me that it registered at 252 on the butterfat scale. The doctor went on to say that anything above 220 was a source of concern and that I either needed to make changes in my diet or they would put me on medication.

To be honest, I haven't made any changes in my eating patterns and haven't asked for a prescription for fat eating enzymes. Maybe I'm stubborn. Maybe I'm stupid. Probably both.

Health professionals write that high cholesterol doesn't happen overnight. You have to work at it for awhile. That got me to thinking. Where did I go wrong? At what point in my life did I refuse a glass of water and settle for a milkshake? Or, how come instead of a rice cake I opted for an ice cream cone?

I've come up with an answer ... Eureka. When I was very young Dr. McIntosh informed my mother that we needed to drink condensed Carnation milk. The stuff came in cans and you would mix it with four cups of water. It was cheap and Doc Mac said it was filled with all the stuff kids needed to grow big and strong.

For years we drank it by the glass and poured it on our cereal. It was no big deal until the morning my sister Barbara introduced me to real dairy products. She reached into the refrigerator and grabbed hold of the "forbidden container." The container was actually a carton of Terrace Park milk. Our mother told us not to touch it. It was referred to as "mom's and dad's milk." Barb poured me a small glass of the contraband white liquid and told me to taste it. I took a small sip and couldn't believe how good it tasted.

At that moment I knew two things. First, I was going to continue sneaking from that carton of milk. Second, I would never drink that Carnation stuff again. It tasted like crap but we didn't know any better. The milk revolution was on and my mother was forced to buy real milk from that point on.

Back then you drank whole milk. Skim milk wasn't even an option. Scientists were still trying to invent 1% and 2% milk.

Of course when we attended school a new thing was introduced to our taste buds __ chocolate milk! The creative folks in class always asked for a "half and half." That was half a glass filled with regular white milk and the other half topped off with chocolate. We were genuine milk connoisseurs back then.

Milk wasn't the only dairy product which has lead to my downfall. It seemed like every summer night we pleaded to go to the Drive Inn and get an ice cream cone. That gave way to a special treat called a "Big Wheel." Behind Santa Claus my two favorite people seemed to be Mr. and Mrs Meidinger, the owners of the Drive Inn. It was a great day when we realized that on our way home from baseball practice, out at the old track field, that the Drive Inn was open in the morning.

We always envied the kid who had a quarter in his pocket. That was enough for ice cream. The rest of us who only had a dime or nickel would have to settle for frozen colored water that came in a tube of plastic. Those things were good for cooling off but were short on taste.

Another place for great ice cream was the Luncheonette. The chocolate ice cream cones were fabulous. Plus, the ice cream came out of a machine that had "Soft Serve" written on it. It seemed to be better than we got out of our freezer and we didn't break a sweat or bend a spoon trying to get hard ice cream out of gallon container.

The next thing we discovered came with a warning __ brownie ala modes from the Borscht Kettle. My mother warned all of us that too many brownie ala modes might give us big butts. She was right but we didn't notice any significant growth at the time.

What we wanted was good tasting stuff, damned the future consequences. I can still taste those things. It was a real treat to ask the waitress to warm the brownie before putting on the ice cream. Those were the days.

So, here I am now middle aged with high cholesterol and a big butt. And, a bunch of great memories of growing up in Eureka.

Written by VJ Smith (EHS Class of 73)