Hershey

We came home from New York last Saturday via a different route than we’d gone up. My brother in law suggested we avoid the traffic through D.C, Baltimore, and Philadelphia by heading west through Pennsylvania and then south through West Virginia and Virginia, etc. That seemed like a great plan. As we crossed into PA we stopped at the visitor’s center and I grabbed a map. Pulling out of there I was riding shotgun and took a look at the map to see where we’d be going. I saw to my surprise that we’d be going right past Hershey. It happens that one of my favorite former students is living there with his new bride so I immediately decided we had lunch plans and got out my cell phone.

After a delightful lunch at the Hershey Pantry, a favorite of the locals and a spin on Keith’s like new, ten year old 750 Nighthawk which I hadn’t seen before, we took a few pictures of the brick, industrial revolution landmark where Hershey bars still come from. I had used my short test ride on the Honda to do some recon for good angles on the factory. With the scent of chocolate in the air we bagged a few shots before heading out of town. There is a small stream that runs past the factory. I assume that it is used, or was at one time, as cooling for some part of the process of making all those kisses. When one views the factory while driving along Chocolate Avenue, at least at the time of day we were there, the stream looks like a river of chocolate coming from the factory. I found myself wishing I had a golden ticket to allow me to get inside.

I had been to the town of Hershey Kiss streetlamps once before for the wedding of our lunch hosts. I learned then that one can no longer tour the inside of the plant as was possible for many years. Bummer. They have a fake factory set up for the purpose of demonstrating how the product is made, but it could never be as cool as seeing the inside of a real chocolate factory. On the bike I had discovered Milton Hershey’s former residence on a little hill across the golf course from the brick complex. It has a brown roof assumedly of some tin/chocolate alloy. One could not help but think of Willy Wonka. A few short minutes later we were back on the freeway with another great memory receding in the rear view mirror.

Friday I was in the car at an odd time running an errand and caught a bit of NPR’s “On Point” radio show. Michael D’Antonio was being interviewed about his new book about Milton Hershey and his enterprises. It was just a little spooky having just been to the place he was talking about. Willy Wonka-like mystery was swirling around my head as I listened and I found myself fascinated by something I never thought I would care a thing about. I just love the draw of curiosity. Now I have yet another book I’m looking forward to reading.