When I was a little boy growing up on a farm in Northwest Oklahoma, I remember the frequent visits of the "Watkins Man".  It was always very exciting to see a cloud of dust appear as a car or truck came barreling down our road.  Was it the mailman coming to Route 1, Box 73, (our address)?   Perhaps my Grandpa bringing his mower to mow our grass?  No, neither one.  Today it was the Watkins man in his 1953 Plymouth, dark green.  Thin and carrying a heavy, black rectangular case, he leaned to one side to balance the weight of the fine Watkins products he was about to show my Mother.  Brass clasps clattered open and the case parted, the top sections falling back. Then he opened it further to reveal the sparkling little glass bottles of Watkins vanilla and extracts.  Some gum for me and I retreated a little bit, but within hearing distance to find out what he would show Mom, and, more importantly what she would buy!  I remember opening the kitchen cabinet later, more often than Mom would have liked, taking out the bottle of Watkins vanilla, and carefully removing the lid to smell that intoxicating aroma.  In September of 2007, at the State Fair of Oklahoma, I bought a bottle of that vanilla.  The next night I went back and signed up with my wonderful sponsors Laurine and Ken Huston to be a Watkins associate myself.

Now I am the Watkins Man!

Roland R. Lohmann