No photo but I still have that melodious 4-note jingle ringing in my head and the taste of cinnamon and raisins when ever I see the shade of yellow that graces this page. That truck was a high point of my childhood and always delivered good things. A gray day in Daly City was transmuted by the drawers of delights the driver would pull open: A kids king's ransom.
Nothing to date has ever tasted quite the same as their apple squares for 15 cents, coupled with a glass of cold whole milk, shared with my buddy Ray Mathes over a game of Stratego after 7th grade let out. We truly ruled the world back then, armed with our independent naivety and a sugar load of pure delight.
And now that I have to count every carb, I hold those from Colonial in the highest regard.