Villa Park, Illinois; the Town that Ovaltine Built

In the '40s, we would watch the radio, listening raptly to Fibber McGee's closet falling apart, the creaking door in "Suspense" or the clatter of departing hooves and "HiYo, Silver!". Someone might warm up a pot of Ovaltine, a soothing beverage which guaranteed a night's sleep and tasted like home to us, as it should have for it was manufactured right there in our town of Villa Park, Illinois -- Vanilla Park, as we little kids called it. When the Ovaltine whistle blew in the evening, everyone knew it was nearly supper time in Vanilla Park.

Villa Park began as a parcel of country acreage out on the CA&E line, an electric railroad that made short work of commuting to the Loop and played a vital part in the town's development. "Work in the city, live in the country" was a promise which lured new Villa Parkers into the fold. As a promotion, some buyers were offered a choice of 20 apple trees or 200 baby chicks. Peace, prairie, and a place where truck gardens thrived were just the ticket for a lot of people. Commuting convenience, pastoral atmosphere and groceries harvested in the backyard were what Villa Park was made of as the '20s approached ... that, and the Ovaltine factory.

Ovaltine had surfaced in the U. S. during 1905, exported here by the Wander Company of Berne, Switzerland. Dr. Wander's famous beverage was unsweetened chocolate flavored malt granular powder designed to be mixed with milk and sugar to produce a taste resembling an intense, slightly sweet malted milkshake. Served cold, it was delightful but keeping the powder suspended in chilled milk was problematic. With the enjoyment underway, a drinker distracted for a moment of sparkling conversation or radio watching might return to this libation only to find brown powder resettling to the bottom of the glass. To heat the milk eliminated this problem, and made the glorious malt flavor open up and sing in a delicious way which somehow conveyed a sense of reassurance, that everything was OKAY.

When Wander opened its first American plant on Villa Avenue in 1917, Villa Park became a company town which thrived even during the Great Depression as the building evolved into a huge four-story structure secured with grand gate and archway. Wander had a vested interest in Villa Park, and it showed. Largely because of them, streets were graded and paved, a train depot was built on the Great Western freight line near Villa Avenue, and the village's postal rating and mail service advanced because they used our post office for extensive mailing operations. (The consequent construction of the neat brick post office in1935 not only enhanced the neighborhood but generated jobs for local men.)

Ordinary workers at the plant were not getting rich but those paychecks were a shot in the arm for the town's economy. Wander employees earned money which had to be spent and this flow of cash and demand supported local businesses including an all-night drug store, a news depot, a jewelry store, grocery stores, a Woolworth's Five and Dime, a shoe repair shop, both women's and infant's apparel stores, a beauty salon, a couple of taverns, an ice cream parlor, a movie theatre, and a bowling alley. These places were also frequented by Villa Parkers who didn't work for the Wander Company but their success in great part was driven along by Ovaltine paychecks.

Ovaltine even bolstered real estate development -- a number of houses along Kenilworth Avenue were built by Wander for its employees. Sears mail-order houses and "Chicago-style" bungalows also propelled local real estate industry, financed with mortgages from Villa Park Trust & Savings Bank which survived the Great Depression thanks to the infusion of cash from Wander and its employees. (The company also established a relief fund for people hit hardest by the economic crisis and donated its powdered beverage to local school children at no charge.)

The demand for Ovaltine caused production to more than double during those lean years, generating a payroll that rose from 203 employees in 1929 to 456 in1934. In 1935 the Wander Company began construction of a quarter-million dollar addition to the plant, a brick building with abundant window space, lined with interior walls of white enameled brick. Some of the building used for manufacturing was air conditioned, an advanced feature for the time.

The Power of Advertising

Ovaltine's success depended on its effective marketing campaign which pioneered the hallowed send-away-for-a-promotion idea requiriing customers to purchase products and mail inner seals to obtain premiums unavailable in stores. Especially popular were patented "shake-up mugs" which addressed the problem of keeping Ovaltine dissolved evenly in cold milk and were decorated with 15 different versions of cartoon characters including Uncle Wiggily, Captain Midnight, Little Orphan Annie, et al.

Ovaltine sponsored popular broadcasts like Little Orphan Annie and Captain Midnight for radio-watchers - shows which provided fodder for the promotional mill as devoted Ovaltine drinkers redeemed inner lid seals for decoder rings, maps, manuals, badges and The Secret Squadron Code-o-Graph. As far as market share was concerned, Ovaltine was kicking butt.

During World War II, many women worked on assembly lines including our neighbor, Betty McDaniel, who donned tee shirt, slacks, and kerchief and biked over to the Ovaltine plant every day. There was no such thing as tardy arrivals -- a Wander employee had to be at the gate when the shifts changed.

The secret formula for Ovaltine involved processing of grain blended with other elusive things, resulting in thick chocolatey syrup which was poured into big pans and placed in ovens 8-1/2 feet high, there to puff up and bake into hard cakes which were cooled, run through cutters, chopped into powder, and used to fill cans or jars in the "Toddy" line . This phase of the operation blessed the entire village with a wonderful aroma, but on Wednesdays they roasted the malt -- a process which announced itself by a strange odor permeating homes and closets. Like most people who live in company towns, we hardly noticed it after a while. One thing was never in doubt -- every day people made money at the plant.

Villa Park was the sort of place where even families who didn't have much could pinch pennies and buy a nice house and way of life for their kids. We never thought of anybody as being "poor" -- unless there was a bill to pay or a loaf of bread to bring back from the store, money didn't matter much. During the '50s and '60s, Villa Park and Ovaltine prospered despite the heavy hit sustained when the beloved CA&E line went out of business. The population swelled due to a great exodus of Chicagoans hungry to continue the tradition of working in the city and living somewhere else, even if it meant commuting on the Chicago Northwestern or in cars or aging buses.

My best friend and I grew up and moved away but a highlight of my annual Christmas visits with my aunt was our annual after-dark drive by the Ovaltine factory, always decorated in the same way for the holidays -- simple but breathtaking strings of colored bulbs outlining the inside of the arched factory entrance, guaranteed to make us feel nostalgic. This Yuletide splendor ended in 1986, when Wander packed up its malt and hiked to Minnesota, an event which caused great sadness in Villa Park. Just before they left, an enterprising nostalgia buff made off with the beloved factory whistle. His friends loyally closed ranks about him, for it gladdened our hearts to know that somewhere the Ovaltine whistle occasionally would still be calling its neighbors to attention.

Former Wander employees found other jobs, time passed, and Ovaltine seemed to disappear, sinking like a stone in a sea of gourmet coffee, tea, fancy juices, soft drinks, and bottled water. During the takeover frenzy of the 80's, Wander was acquired by the Swiss company, Novartis Nutrition. Drums beating along the Internet delivered an unthinkable message - that someone had tinkered with the Ovaltine formula. I was determined to see for myself if this was true, and it was -- the version of Ovaltine marked in America today is more like instant cocoa, an insipid sweetened powder compared to the old zing of the real thing.

It took a while to find the European version which is more like the authentic article, mixes beautifully with 2% milk and heats in a few minutes in the microwave. My first tentative sip was instantly rewarded - although a bit milder, Ovaltine still tastes like home, and works its old magic on my reassurance button but when I tried to read the label, I was surprised to see that the information was printed in Chinese. Thanks to the magic of Dr. Wander's libation, I still felt reassured but I have to admit that it also made me feel a little strange to think that, after all these years, Ovaltine is being manufactured in a different country, helping someone else to build their town.