Posted by Comicus Pete on Oct 13, 2026 in From the Road
Some vehicles don’t ask for attention. They simply wait for someone to notice them.
That was the case with a weathered Divco milk truck resting in a field near the former Wilcox Ice Cream Stand in Manchester, Vermont. Rust had replaced polished paint, weeds surrounded its tires, and decades of New England weather had quietly transformed a hardworking delivery truck into an unexpected landmark.
When I watched footage of the old Divco provided by Clint Moore (@batbuick on YouTube), something unexpected happened. That forgotten milk truck in a Vermont field took me somewhere entirely different.
Not to another town.
Not even to another state.
It took me home.
It was 1976, and I was just a kid growing up on Meadow Road in Lynnwood, Washington. On a regular schedule, the Vitamilk truck would turn into our driveway. Before I ever saw it, I heard it. There was the unmistakable clatter of its diesel engine, followed by the crunch of gravel beneath the tires, the squeak of the brakes, and finally the sound I remember best—the sliding side door opening as the milkman stepped out carrying glass bottles destined for the milk box beside our utility room door.
Those sounds became part of childhood. At the time, they seemed ordinary. Looking back, they were anything but.
For generations, milk trucks like these were part of daily life across America. Long before supermarkets became the primary source for milk, neighborhood dairies delivered fresh bottles directly to front porches. Drivers knew their customers by name, exchanged empty bottles for full ones, and quietly became part of the rhythm of their communities.
The Divco became one of the most recognizable milk delivery vehicles in the United States. Built by the Detroit Industrial Vehicle Company, these trucks were designed for constant stops, allowing drivers to step in and out quickly hundreds of times a day. They weren’t glamorous, but they were dependable, and for decades they helped feed America one neighborhood at a time.
The Wilcox family’s dairy roots stretch back more than a century, and the family eventually became widely known for Wilcox Ice Cream. The old Divco, meanwhile, sits quietly in that Vermont field, no longer delivering milk but still capable of delivering something else.
Memories.
Watching that footage, I realized the truck had outlived the job it was built to do. Technology changed. Home milk delivery faded away. Families adapted. But somehow, that old Divco still had the power to transport me back half a century, to a gravel driveway on Meadow Road and the familiar sound of a milkman making his rounds.
Maybe that’s why abandoned vehicles fascinate me.
They’re not just forgotten machines.
They’re reminders that even after the engine falls silent, the stories keep moving.
Imbedded video: Raw footage provided by Clint Moore — @batbuick on YouTube.
Photo: “Vitamilk Dairy Delivery Truck” by Alden Jewell, via Flickr. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 (CC BY 2.0).
Original photograph: https://www.flickr.com/photos/autohistorian/51791665924/
License: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
Image used without modification.