Every winter, the Merrimack River froze solid – and Lawrence got to work.
Before refrigerators, before electric cooling of any kind, ice was one of the most valuable commodities in New England. Families depended on it year-round to keep food from spoiling, cool their drinks in summer, and preserve everything from meat to medicine. Historians have noted that in the 19th century, many families would sooner give up food than give up their ice. It was that essential.
The Merrimack Valley was perfectly suited to the trade. Cold winters produced thick, clear ice – the kind that could be harvested in massive blocks and shipped to customers across the country and as far away as the Caribbean. New England ice was considered among the finest in the world: dense, clean, and slow to melt.
The process was a serious operation. Once the ice reached the right thickness – ideally nine inches to a foot for local use, thicker if it was headed far away – crews would go to work. First, horses dragged scrapers across the surface to clear snow and remove the porous top layer. Then a horse-drawn plow scored the ice into a grid. From there, men with hand saws cut the blocks free, floating them through canals or hoisting them out of the water with iron hooks and tongs. The blocks were heavy – close to half a ton each – and keeping them moving was the key. Once a block stopped, it could take four men to get it going again.
From there, the ice went into the ice houses: massive wooden buildings, no windows, packed floor-to-ceiling with blocks insulated in sawdust. Stored this way, the ice could last well into summer – ready to be delivered by the ice man, whose horse-drawn wagon was a familiar sight on city streets.
Right here on the Merrimack, near what is now 637 Andover Street, this scene played out every winter for decades. The photograph on our homepage – showing preparations for ice cutting near our building, taken around 1890 – gives you a sense of the scale of it. Those dark structures in the background are the ice houses. That was the industry that gave rise to our business.
Over the years, our company went by different names: Everpure Ice Company, The Boston Ice Company, Bresnahan Ice Company. But we never left that corner of Andover Street, and we never stopped selling ice. When mechanical refrigeration arrived in the early 20th century, natural ice harvesting faded away. But the need for ice didn’t – and neither did we.
Today we’re still at 637 Andover Street, still selling ice (and dry ice, and propane), still welcoming walk-in customers just as ice businesses in Lawrence have for more than a century. The Merrimack doesn’t freeze the way it once did, and our ice doesn’t come from the river anymore. But we like to think the tradition lives on.
Stop by and see us!
