Blizzard anniversary brings back memories

I recently learned that Dairy Queen is celebrating the 25th anniversary of the Blizzard®.

For me, this is significant. The DQ Blizzard is a symbol of my teenage years. This anniversary has me reflecting on past memories of my time working at Dairy Queen.

My grandparents owned and operated the DQ at Sheridan and Loucks in Peoria. I began working there in the summer when I was 14. Of course, I could only work during certain times due to my age.

A couple of years later, the Blizzard came out and we were bombarded with customers who wanted the ice cream treat. Commercials showed someone holding a Blizzard upside down, boasting the fact that they were so thick, the contents would not fall out of the cup. I always feared someone would ask me to do this, and I knew it would be a disaster because not all Blizzards were that thick.

In the beginning, there were probably only about 10 flavors, such as Oreo, Heath, Snickers, M&M’s and Butterfinger.

Ever since hearing about the anniversary, I’ve craved a Blizzard. Last week, my boyfriend and I went to the Washington DQ. The sign there boasted 25 Blizzard flavors for 25 years. Obviously, the Blizzard is a success.

I ordered a cookie dough Blizzard, even though the girl there said the most popular was the Turtle Pecan Cluster. When Blizzards started, the Turtle Pecan Cluster didn’t exist. Now the treats are broken down into candy, cookie, chocolate and fruit categories.

My how things change over time. Speaking of time, I can’t believe it’s been 25 years. It’s the same thing I said when my 20-year high school reunion arrived.

I know it sounds silly, but I mark the Blizzard anniversary like a couple who marks their 25th. I feel proud to have been part of this small thing in history. Of course, during the time that I was making all of those
Blizzards, I didn’t appreciate it. In fact, I dreaded when someone ordered one, especially Peanut M&M’s.

The hard candy would poke through the side of the glass when it was being mixed and hurt my hands.
That’s when I started double cupping that one.

The process of making a Blizzard was also messy. The DQ still has the same machine today that was used 25 years ago, except the ones I used had a plastic guard on them. That didn’t matter. The guard didn’t help at all. As I mixed the Blizzard, a fine line of ice cream would somehow find its way onto my red and beige DQ shirt. By the end of the night I would go home with a thick line across my chest of dried ice cream. Have you ever smelled dried ice cream? It doesn’t smell good.

I even had nightmares about making Blizzards. In one dream, I was chained to the Blizzard machine as the endless line of people went as far down the sidewalk as I could see — and they all wanted Blizzards!

When I was a junior in high school, my parents began operating the Dairy Queen at Westlake shopping plaza, so I went to work there.

At that time, Westlake was a hopping place for teens. There was a movie theater and an arcade called Bally’s. A lot of my high school friends came in to have me make Blizzards for them, which was somewhat embarrassing since I had to wear a dorky uniform at work, which, at one time, included a hat.

There were upsides to working at DQ though. I got to sample all the free ice cream I wanted in courtesy cups. I sampled all of the Blizzards and sundae toppings. Our fridge at home was always stocked with Dilly or Buster bars.

And looking back, I think about my time at DQ with fondness. It’s where I learned to count money back to customers because there were no cash registers then. It’s where I got to spend quality time with my Grandpa Ron, sharing jokes and eating Maid Rite sandwiches together. And it’s where I got to eat as much ice cream as I wanted.

Jeanette Kendall is the executive editor of TimesNewspapers.