It was 1903 when a 15 year old immigrant, unable to speak English came to the US with a dream. 15 years later Joseph Dager’s American dream came true when he sold his first batch of Velvet Ice Cream from the basement of a Utica, OH confectionary store. In 1960 the company restored an old mill south of town and has operated there ever since.

ICE CREAM AND A DREAM--

The old mill at the Velvet Ice Cream Company in Utica, OH is the kind of place that wraps you in the warm and fuzzy memories of childhood.

A water wheel splashes merrily as it trundles around at the comfortable speed of that time gone by. Just over there a squadron of ducks enjoys duck stuff on the mill pond.

The grist mill was built in 1817 and today hosts a period ice cream parlour (above) where the company dispenses its delicious treats with more than 500 flavors to nearly 150,000 visitors annually.

Sue Brooks, my new square dance partner, and I recently eased around the site and absorbed the charm of its antiquity. We soon learned the Bunkhouse Reelers, a square dance group from Buckeye Lake, were the afternoon’s scheduled entertainment.

Sue, being a veteran square dancer, knew some of those delightful folks and shortly we were invited guests in four dances as part of their afternoon show on the mill patio (pictured below). We smiled our hearty acceptance to later join them at their home dance venue then relaxed by slurping our icy treats while sitting on the mill pond wall.

Then, a squadron of bicyclists rolled into the parking area in a single-file choreography, ablaze in their bright, day-glo colored cycling shirts. I didn’t recognize their club shirts but was astonished at the apparent familiarity of the last rider.

Turns out he was my cycling friend Gary Courtright from Bellville and I knew most of the other riders from my old Mansfield area cycling club including Lynn Rush with whom I will be spending some time soon hiking segments of the Appalachian Trail in Virginia with other mutual friends from Florida.

I would learn later they did 50 miles that day in a hilly round-trip from Mt. Vernon. That made me quite happy my exercise that afternoon was confined to the dance floor.

In the course of a few hours of a gentle summer afternoon the mill visit morphed from fuzzy, childhood memories to the enchantment of new experiences and gave promise to memories yet to be.

Can’t ask for much more than that.

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http://www.velveticecream.com/index.asp