Lexington, KY - This time of year, about the last thing one wants to contemplate is ice. Other than that which covers the new rink in Triangle Park, ice is something to either be scrapped off the windshield in the morning or avoided in mixed drinks that will favor hot toddies until the spring thaw.
But at one time in history, ice was a hot commodity --
something to be raised and harvested in the winter, and stored as long as possible through the summer. As late as the 1960s, ice was sold door to door and kept in an ice box in the kitchen. Ice picks were a handy kitchen gadget used to chip off chunks for chilling drinks.
Today, of course, one need not buy a block of ice, having the modern carnation of the ice box --
the refrigerator -- and a handy ice maker (even ice trays are becoming a thing of the past). About the only time we actually buy ice is by the bag for a party, picnic or tailgating.
But vestiges of our ice-buying past are still with us. In addition to granny still calling her "fridge" the ice box, one needs only pay a call to Henry Clay's Ashland estate or drive down West Loudon Avenue to witness our own past "ice age."
Household use of ice appears to be largely an American phenomenon. Order a drink in any bar in North America or stay the night at the cheapest roadside motel and ice is very much a part of the scene. Not so in Europe, where hotels rarely, if ever, have an ice machine and ice in mixed drinks is one, two cubes at best. Ice cold beer? Forget about it.
Those Yankees of New England who brought us the slave trade also developed ice as a commodity. Turning the long harsh winters to an advantage, "ice farms" turned thick pond ice into a product to be stored and sold, not only locally during the summer, but shipped south to chill the juleps on plantations employing that other Northern commodity.
That's not to say that ice could not be produced in other more moderate climes such as central Kentucky. All it took was a source of still fresh water and a sustained period of sub-zero temperatures to produce ice. Enterprising landowners such as Henry Clay saw the value in a product that was handy and essentially free. The enslaved labor was already paid for and, having little to do on the property during the winter months, could be put to good use sawing pond ice into blocks.
Ice houses, such as the ones that still stand behind the main house at Ashland, were essentially holes dug in the ground and covered with a roof to protect the ice during warmer months. (In some cases, caves were also used.) Dug deep enough, the natural coolness of the earth helped retard melting. Insulation, straw or sawdust (generally surplus of other agricultural activities) lined the ice house and was placed between the layers of ice blocks. Sufficiently stored, the ice would last well into the summer months, even early fall.
All very practical.
As our fair town grew up and around Ashland, it began to take on the trappings of far larger cities. We had our own Union Station, unheard of in most cities of similar size. By August 1882, mule-drawn trolleys were running in the streets, north and south on Limestone and Broadway, east and west on Main, connecting the Kentucky Association racetrack at Race and East Fifth with the Red Mile, and the West End with Woodland Park. All transfers took place at the station in front of the courthouse at Cheapside. Exactly eight years later, wires had been strung along the routes and the first electric trolley ran on Aug. 7, 1890.
What do trolleys have to do with ice? Again, practicality. Running electric trolleys obviously required a source of electricity. For Lexington, that meant building an electric generation station -- the one that still stands on West Loudon at North Limestone -- across the street from the car barn (also still standing, but threatened by demolition if LexTran can't get more creative in adaptive reuse).
Because the trolleys ran only during the day, while electricity could be generated around the clock, what to do with the excess capacity generated overnight? How about making ice? Which is exactly what the Kentucky Traction and Terminal Company did in that large windowless block of a building still standing just west of the Kentucky Utilities substation on Loudon (that was the original main generating station).
Of course, the trolleys gave way to the city bus system (put in place by General Motors to serve as a model to convince such cities as Los Angeles to do away with their own highly efficient light rail systems), and electricity went into such widespread use that the ice plant and related "food lockers" (go ask granny) ceased operation; Kentucky Utilities still thrived. The bus system survives, not only as LexTran, but as the major founding component of Greyhound Bus Lines. (Southeastern Greyhound, based in Lexington out of the car barns on Loudon and what is now Central Christian Church's Watkins Building, was the city's first company traded on the New York Stock Exchange.)
And to think, it all started with ice...