Schwan's Choice

The guys got the word this morning: it's Schwan's choice for dinner tonight. I'm going to a class reunion meeting at 5:30. So, when they get home, they can go to the freezer and pick out a pizza or some taquitos and throw 'em in the oven.

I don't know what we'd have done over the years if that first Schwan's truck hadn't rolled in the driveway. That must've been about 20 years ago; Schwan's has been doing well by the Love family ever since. And, our dogs have benefitted from the twice-monthly visits when the big yellow truck pulls in, Tom, the driver jumps out and throws them each a doggie biscuit.

When Bill was driving to Coeur d'Alene to work every day for 13 years, the kids were on their individual school schedules, and I was always overwhelmed with school work, Schwan's products were saviors for us.

Probably the most prominent of their offerings were the personal pizzas---pepperoni style. I don't know how many years I watched Annie zap her pizza, plop down at the counter and meticulously pick off each tiny piece of pepperoni, stacking it in a neat pile next to the pizza. Then, she'd eat the pizza and use the pepperoni for a chaser . . . sorta like our old days of eating toward the frosting on chocolate cakes.

Besides keeping us stocked with convenient microwave goods, Schwan's drivers have also taken a personal interest in our lives over the years. One, in particular, was Mike Bowman whose folks owned Sandpoint's Connie's Restaurant. Mike worked for his parents for quite a while, but finally decided to go the Schwan's route, which included the Love house.

One time our black lab, Ebbie, was still going through doggie adolescence, bringing home whatever she could sniff out during her romps through the surrounding fields. The fermented deer head that kept coming back was particularly irritating and STINKY. We tried burying it, but she'd still dig it up and proudly return it to the porch. We finally hauled it off to the dump.

Once she wandered over to the America's Promise Church next door and fetched a bag containing the minister's son's Sunday school manual and his Bible. We didn't know she'd brought it home until I went around the back of the house and found the bag ripped open and several Bible verses chewed up into tiny pieces. She did choose Easter Sunday for this retrieval, so we thought was rather reverent of her.

Well, we were embarrassed to take it back, so it sat on the kitchen counter until the next day when Mike came by to deliver his product. After telling him of our plight, he offered to drop it into their mailbox, which he did. We remained forever grateful to Mike, just as we were the time actress/model Margeaux Hemingway came to town.

She visited Sandpoint as grand marshal of the Winter Carnival. About an hour before the parade, Mike rumbled down the driveway with his truck. Just as he entered the door, the phone rang. It was one of my students whose mother was coordinating the parade. He wondered if I'd like to take his place on the float where Margeaux would be riding.

"I'd love to," I told him, "but can my kids come along with me? My husband hasn't come home yet, so I'll have to bring them with me." The student told me that only I could ride on the float. Disappointed, I told him I'd better stay home and watch my kids, who were fairly young at the time.

Upon hearing this, Mike turned into a true Schwan's trooper.

"I'll watch 'em," he said. "You go on. I'll wait until Bill comes." It was an offer this starstruck mother couldn't refuse. So, I left Mike with the kids. He fed 'em some ice cream and stayed until Bill's arrival. I got to stand right next Margeaux on a parade float, and Mike endeared himself to the Love family forever.

So, the next time you see one of those Schwan's trucks in the neighborhood, keep in mind there's a lot more to the company than ice cream and personal pepperoni pizzas.