{Denver}

No, not the city.  Our Milk Man.
Well, not recently.
He was our milk man when I was growing up.
He had flame red hair and always had a smile.
Tonight, I saw an advertisement that showed a milkman
{are there really any still around?} and the memories flooded back.
Early every Saturday morning, he left a carrier of 6 glass bottles filled
with the most incredible milk.  It was like magic.
We'd leave a carrier with empty bottles on the front stoop Friday night
and whaaalaaaa!  Fresh milk for Saturday cereal!
Denver was just as comfortable chatting with my mom as he was
bantering with us. We would skip behind him as he walked back
down our driveway to his truck. He would hop into the cab, tip
his hat and put the truck into gear, waving good bye as he left.
Onto his next delivery, bringing magic to some other home.
I don't know when he stopped delivering to our house, but it
was probably about the same time the Jewel-T man stopped and the vegetable
truck stopped coming.
As a 5th grader, I didn't even notice, but as an adult I remember with
a smile and a nod and I wonder.