Who laments the passing of the old milk machine?

It is as much a piece of history as the Penny Farthing bike or the old fashioned tram.  

I am trying to remember when I would have used one.  I suppose it would have been after the pub in those years when I was a student and living in a bed sit in Withington.

There used to be a milk machine by the Scala Cinema which in turn was beside the White Lion. And I guess it would have been that bit of forward thinking about milk for breakfast which would have got me using it.

But then without a fridge and with most shops having closed by nine in the evening buying your emergency milk from a machine made sense.

Of course getting the cartoon open was another matter.

All of which  got me thinking about the age of the vending machine which I assumed came along in the 19th century.

And there I was wrong, there is a reference to one in the first century when Hero of Alexandria came up with a machine to dispense holy water.*

The first modern one was introduced onto a London street in the early 1880s and sold post cards.  For me the first I really remember were the Five Boys Chocolate bars usually on railway stations and which could be guaranteed to deliver slightly dry flaking chocolate which had gone white at the edges. There were also the polo mint machines and the chewing gum ones.

Along with the cigarette machines they were just one of those bits of street furniture you took for granted.  I don’t really remember when they began to disappear to be replaced by the giant all glass fronted multipurpose dispenser.

As for the milk vending machine I rather think they began to vanish in the 1970s, possibly in the wake of the supermarket revolution along with cheap fridges.  For who would want to stand at what was often a shabby and knocked about machine, fumbling for the sixpence only to discover the coin had got stuck, the machine refused to accept it or worst still there were no cartoons left?

This one was on on Shude Hill and was photographed in the March of 1960 which may have been at the height of their popularity.

I suppose they fitted into that new high tech way of life that was the late 1950s and 60s, and I have to say that thinking back to the period it does look ultra modern and there was something novel about getting your milk this way instead of from a milkman.

Not of course that the milkman visits many houses anymore and I hear today that one more newspaper is about to turn itself over to an electronic version.

As someone who grew up in the 50s thinking that milk delivered to the door step along with a daily newspaper was the hall mark of civilized life this all seems a little sad.

And if  I don’t stop I am in danger of sounding like my uncle who still could not bring himself to accept the fall of Constantinople.

Pictures; vending machine on Shude Hill taken by L Kaye, March 1960, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, m59879, m59878, m5987, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

Of polo mints….. chewing gum ….. and Five Boy’s chocolate ….. the vending machine ...no. 1

Now at 74 those modern vending machines which are built like a house, offer infinite variety of things to eat do rather challenge me.

Polo mints in Chorlton, 1958

All of which is an alert to a grumpy story, which was brought on by the discovery of the DVD, “Classic Vending Machines of the 1960s. Film, Refreshing Look, Features Footage Of Classic & Vintage Vendo Antique Vending Machines For Cola, Soda, & Soft Drinks”.

It was rated as having 4 out of 5 stars, but alas was unavailable.  I doubt I would ever buy it, but it did rather fascinate me, and set me off thinking about those vending machines of my youth.

They were far less complicated than their great grandchildren and the earliest I used dispensed polo mints, chewing gum and Five Boy’s chocolate.  

They were sturdy, no nonsense machines, which made no demands on you other than put your money in the slot, turn the handle and watch as the item fell out.  

There were no flashing lights, no messages about how much money had been fed in, and no window to watch as the product made its way down from the holding position to the flap where it could be collected.

A slew of machines, on Princess Road, date unknown

Instead you put in the money, turned the handle, and waited, and if you were lucky you heard the mints or chocolate land with a thud where upon you could retrieve it. 

But sometimes you got nothing because the machine had not been refilled and like as not you didn’t get your money back either.

Added to which there was no guarantee the product was still within its sell by date.  

Too many times on deserted and grim railway stations the vending machine offered up bars of chocolate which were crumbly at the edges, covered in white dots and tasted stale.

I was too young to use cigarette machines, but by the end of the sixties there were those tall and robust machines which delivered cartoons of milk and orange juice., which were a life saver at the end of the day when all the shops had closed.

So, in memory of some of those machines, this is the first of a short series on those simpler style of machines.

Location; Manchester

Pictures, polo mints at 362 Barlow Moor Road, A H Downes, May 1958, m17608, and a slew of machines Princess Road, date unknown, Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass  and https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/albums/72157684413651581?fbclid=IwAR0t6qAJ0-XOmfUDDqk9DJlgkcNbMlxN38CZUlHeYY4Uc45EsSMmy9C1YCk

The Vending machine .......... nu 2...... lost and forgotten in Deal

Now here is another one of those bits of street furniture we all took for granted.

There was a time when the cigarette machine could be found almost everywhere.

But now I doubt that there are many left.

So much so that recently I was asked whether I could remember the machine that stood opposite the Seymour, and while the answer was yes I couldn’t offer up a date for its disappearance.

And I suppose that is the point about street furniture.

They are so part of our everyday lives and so taken for granted that we no longer see them let own clock when they vanish.

I don’t know when this one in Deal High Street was abandoned or why but given that neither of the properties on either side is now a shop I am guessing it will be a long time ago.

Today of course you can still come across and use vending machines but they are big, brash and usually dispense products which cost an arm and a leg.

Look closely and you can pick out that the charge for a packet of cigarettes was 30p compared to £9 today.

All of which may help date our machine as well as offering up a lesson on the price of things.

So as a way of celebrating their passing the challenge is to find and display a vending machine near you.

There are no prizes save the gratification of knowing you will have shared your vending machine with the world.

Location; Deal Kent







Picture; cigarette vending machine, 2016, from the collection of Elizabeth and Colin Fitzpatrick