History unthawed

Shaved, crushed or cubed, ice is something we take for granted. For most of us, it’s always been there and it’s not something we think about. The same goes for the big blue structure, known to many as the Ice Building, located at 11 S. Fourth St.

But deep within that cavernous cube lie decades of Columbia history. The Ice Building was built in 1906 by brothers J.P. and W.J. Hetzler, who owned a slaughterhouse and meat market. At 5 p.m. Thursday, the Chamber of Commerce will host a ribbon-cutting celebrating the building’s 100th birthday. Two thousand square feet of the building will be dedicated to memorabilia, and there will be a sitting area for people to share their memories of the ice company.

The Ice Building is historically relevant down to its very foundation. Mark Stevenson, the building’s owner, said it was built with the timber of torn-down structures from the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis. The concrete blocks, made of limestone from the area around what is now Rock Quarry Road, were manufactured on the site.

Before the plant was built, ice had to be transported by train from other cities. According to a 1906 article published in the Columbia Missouri Statesman, “ice barons” were able to produce ice for $1.30 per ton. The price rose to between $3 and $4 for the middlemen, and by the time it reached consumers it sold for $10 per ton. Although authorities prosecuted many for involvement in ice conspiracies, having a local ice plant ensured that Columbia residents would have enough ice.

Ice was crucial in keeping foods fresh, before the invention of modern refrigeration.

“Milk could keep; eggs wouldn’t go bad,” Stevenson said. “When they got down to freezing, they could save meat indefinitely.”

In 1914, J.P. Hetzler told the Missourian that his new store, which would display cuts of meat under cooled glass counters, would “be the finest meat market in Missouri.” According to the article, the only time meat was to be removed from the counter would be when customers made purchases.

Bill Sappington remembers life before modern refrigeration. During those days, food was kept in an ice box, a wooden container with a space in the top for blocks of ice.

Ice was delivered door to door. Sappington, 80, of Columbia said that the ice company furnished a window card with numbers on it that was used to indicate how many pounds each household needed.

“(The delivery man) would cut you off a piece about 10 pounds. He’d throw it up on his shoulder — he wore a leather pad on his shoulder to keep from getting wet — and he’d carry it in and throw it in your ice box,” Sappington said.

Frank Ranz, 97, of Columbia helped make the ice deliveries in the mid-1920s, when he was about 15 or 16. “I was a country boy, lived outside of Columbia,” he said. To pay tuition, Ranz and other boys worked odd jobs, which they signed up for through the YMCA.

During this time, ice was delivered on a horse-drawn wagon.

“The ice man drove his own horse and wagon, and he was in charge of it,” Ranz said.

Ranz’s job was to carry the ice, which the wagon driver would break from 100-pound blocks, into the house. He often had to make two trips: one to clear the contents out of the ice box and one to bring in the ice.

For those who didn’t have ice boxes to store food in, the ice plant rented storage space. According to an article in the Missourian, published in 1919, MU stored 174 bushels of apples there. In 1935, the plant began renting out 3,000 individual storage lockers.

Although James Baskett, 78, of Hallsville, did have a refrigerator when he and his wife, Marjorie, lived on Clinkscales Road, the ice building allowed him to store large amounts of meat — two lockers worth — until it was ready to be used. Baskett remembers buying hogs and small steers from a wholesaler. The animals were slaughtered and packaged, and Baskett could retrieve the meat during business hours by opening the locker with a key.

The ice plant’s services were important to businesses as well. Sappington remembers picking up ice for Central Dairy, which his father, Roy Sappington, co-owned. They would stop at the loading dock, where 300-pound blocks of ice were slid into the back of the pickup. They would later crush the ice and use it to keep milk cold when they made deliveries.

Although no ice has been manufactured in the building since 1979, its history is still of interest to some. Stevenson said although he was only marginally aware of its history when he bought it, he became more interested as he discovered tools and relics left behind, and he enjoyed imagining “pre-modern life.”

“I’ve grown greatly in my awareness and appreciation,” he said. “The more time I spent down there trying to clean out stuff, the more fascinating it got.”