CHRISTIE-ALLEN-CONTE-BETANCOURT HOMEPAGE

MY BROTHER PETE AND THE ICE HOUSE

Submitted by Rosalie Conte Christie

We lived a block from the big ice house. This was before electric refrigerators, when people put blocks of ice in the bottom of the refrigerator to keep food cold. The man would deliver the ice to your house. The big ice house was on North Boulevard in Tampa. My brother Pete loved to sit with the old men and talk to them. The iceman’s name was Jose. Whenever he wanted to visit Jose, Mama would walk him across the street, because my brother was only seven years old. When they got through talking, Jose would help him across the street to come home. One day Mama noticed Pete was staying a long time. Soon it was getting dark, and still no little boy. Finally, she took off down the street, and saw that the ice house was closed and locked up. Now she was really upset. Then she thought maybe Jose took him home for a visit. She knew where Jose lived, as it was only three blocks away, down by the river. She knocked and Jose came to the door. ”Sarah, Is anything wrong?” “Yes,” my mother, said excitedly. “Is my Peter with you?” She could tell before he answered that he wasn’t. “No Sarah, I got busy with a lot of customers and when I didn’t see him I thought you came after him. Mama could tell that Jose was quite upset for he thought the world of little Peter. Jose told Sarah not to worry that they would find him. Let’s go check the ice house. Maybe he’s playing out back. Mama knew he was just trying to placate her. They got to the ice house and he opened the office and checked it, then opened the small room where he kept all the ropes that he tied the ice with. Lo and behold there was my little brother asleep upon the stack of ropes. Mama was soon laughing and crying as she held him in her arms. She saw that Jose was holding the flashlight, and was quite upset. It’s alright Jose; it’s not your fault. Pete woke up real early this morning and played all day. I guess he got sleepy. Jose looked at her and said you don’t understand when I lock up at night I always sling my ice pick on to the ropes. Mama looked and there was the huge ice pick an inch from where Pete slept. Needless to say Mama didn’t let him go to the ice house anymore. He could have died with an ice pick in his heart and not be found until the next day. I love my brother very much, and I’m grateful his guardian angel was watching out for him that day.

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