Richard McBride And Les’s

Stories and memories are what make place more memorable. An old saying is that every time a person passes, a library burns down.

Richard McBride, a noted scholar and Meriden historian, passed away this weekend.

McBride amassed an enormous collection of photographs and history on Meriden, Connecticut. He knew minute details that brought times past to life - and he shared all his knowledge with the community with narrated slide shows. He and the late Royal Schiffer were the focus of a feature story I once wrote for the Record Journal. (A story “McBride made Meriden history come alive” about McBride’s life appeared in the Sunday edition of the newspaper, Feb. 21, 2010.)

McBride also collected milk bottles and knew the stories behind each dairy’s location. Recent health concerns perhaps limited his mobility, but his absolute love of collecting stories and pairing them with images to carry the information forward to another generation has been passed on.

He will be missed.

Note: Thanks to his son, Jeff McBride, for reminding me of just how quickly time passes and the importance of writing stories down - and for letting me know about the sad news of his father’s passing.

So in tribute, here’s a tale of one small building on a corner of East Main Street in Meriden.

Les’ Dairy Bar is not open yet. The local draw for ice cream and cruise-ins is dormant for winter, waiting for March to re-open.

There was a time when the top of my head barely reached the serving counter outside and my mother would order my chocolate-dipped swirl soft serve ice cream cone from Les himself. I still remember the feel of her warm hand holding mine as we walked up to order. The sweet aroma of melted chocolate mingled with ice cream and wafted through the screened window that slid open. A soft whir of a fan from somewhere inside. As I stood on tiptoe to savor the experience and waited in anticipation for that little hatch to slide open and my cone to appear.

Attired in white with a paper hat atop his head, Les, a lean, no-nonsense man with military bearing, would deftly serve up ice cream magic at his stand. What a sweet treat. When bitten into, the top curly swirl hard candy shell and the soft sweet ice cream combination crunched then melted into a memorable confection.

That was more than 30 years ago. Since then, many cones have been ordered and savored - after a cool cruise in classic Chevy one hot summer day on the Berlin Turnpike; with a young son in a brand-new station wagon (who cares about the drips on the new interior); and as a special treat with my mother, who gave up driving but still loves ice cream (and hot dogs from Guida’s on Route 66.)

Les (the man) is gone. My own son now towers over me, a niece who once worked there during high school is all grown up and lives in Georgia. Yet the ice cream at Les’s Dairy Bar on East Main Street in Meriden will be served up and draw crowds, just as it always has when the season turns and spring inches towards New England.