The tan building in the photo is a restaurant where the Carvel once stood in my home town of Croton-on-Hduson. It closed shortly after I graduated from high school (CHHS) in 1981. Photo Courtesy of Bill Tuttle
Croton is one of those small American towns that never became overrun by fast food restaurants. On summer nights the Carvel Ice Cream stand served as 8th through about 10th grade place to be; those years when you were cool but car less. I lived a 15 minute bike ride away from the Harmon based Carvel stand on the opposite side of town. As I rode closer and closer to the stand on my bike, a glowing light grew brighter and revealed droves of young people eating ice cream cones, flying saucers (ice cream sandwiches), and enjoying root beer floats. In reflection, the Carvel provided a space for Croton youth just entering purity to flirt. The right side of the drive way when you faced the serving counter to the stand remains linked in my mine with teenage asking out and going out rituals at their awkward best. The ice cream looked and tasted great and the conversations with girls I tried to impress unsuccessful. Night after summer night I'd peddle across town in pursuit of a carvel ice cream and a girl’s attention.