A banker, a little girl and square ice cream

Over 50 years ago, a dad took his little girl to an ice cream shop inside a drug store in Natchitoches, Louisiana. The P&C Drug Store was a quaint place nestled on a prominent street corner in a historic district.

The little soda fountain area inside the old-style drug store served square ice cream cones. Not the cone, but the scoops! Dad, who worked on Front Street, would pick up the little girl after kindergarten at the Episcopal Church. Often they would stop off at P&C, and the little girl would sit with her dad at the cute little ice cream tables. Both would order the black walnut cones, apparently the most popular flavor. He would often caution her: “Don’t tell mom you had ice cream because you still have to eat your lunch.”

A regular ice cream trip became a memory when the dad was severely disabled in an accident when the little girl was nine, and life changed forever.

The store closed in 1985, and its fixtures were sold off and given away, forgotten relics of an age gone by. One of those little ice cream tables and chairs made its way to an attic in a home on Sibley Lake, where for over 30 years, they gathered dust with a promise of being restored one day to their original glory.

The long-time Natchitoches resident gathered trinkets, sentimental things, and old items. Many of them — like the ice cream table and six chairs — landed in the attic of her home. The lady had worked for a Natchitoches banker, so when the store closed, she somehow got the souvenirs from the store — along with the memories.

Fast forward to 2018. The little girl was in the home of the now-retired banker lady. During a conversation, Natchitoches memories became the conversation. Everyone from that area in north Louisiana had either been there themselves or told about the legendary square ice cream scoops or fountain drinks. P&C, you see, was a Natchitoches centerpiece, especially in the ’60s and ’70s.

As the little girl told the lady about her regular visits with her dad and the memories she held in her heart about those visits, tears came to the lady’s eyes. She could hardly form her words and finally said: “I’ve wondered why God had me keep that table all these years”. Following the lady’s instructions, the little girl climbed into the attic past the collection of other relics to get to the chairs and table. She moved one thing and another that had been piled on the top for 30-plus years and finally reached the little memory tucked away in her heart for over 50 years.

Tears came to the little girl’s eyes as she pulled the items from the attic. There it was: The white wrought iron table and six wrought iron chairs with yellow cushions. Rusty and dusty, but still intact. Indeed, she and her dad had sat at this table on one of those visits. The banker lady told her: “I want you to have it. I’ve kept it all these years for you. And didn’t know it until now.”

The retired banker and dad are gone now, but they still live through the memories of P&C and that little table and chairs. Now freshly refinished, the little table and chairs sit in my backyard near my swimming pool. You can see the before and after pictures.

The retired banker is my mom, Eloise Bailey, who worked for over 25 years as assistant to Ed Pierson, the president of City Bank. The little girl in the story? She is my wife, the former Elizabeth Salter, whose memories of those ice cream visits with her dad, Thelton, are indelibly recorded in her heart. And now mine. A few weeks ago, the little girl’s daughter (Emily) helped her restore the memories.

They say that table and chair set is worth quite a bit now, but we’ll never sell them. For us, the real value of these keepsakes is not in the monetary value. Instead, it’s the intersection of a journey that brought a banker, a little girl, and her daddy together in a dusty attic. We will think of our parents whenever we see that table and chairs in our backyard. Elizabeth sees moments she had with her dad at P&C, and I remember my mom, who kept those items in her attic for decades until the right time.

And that, friends, is the story of the banker, the little girl, and the square ice cream scoops.

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