In the back of a classic Model T Ford pickup rumbling down the streets of Cleveland in 1923, crates of farm-fresh milk clinked and sweated, rattling beneath the hum of the city’s smokestacks. Each misty morning, 15-year-old John Miceli Sr. rode his early milk route, fog curling around his cap as he delivered to the porches of tight-knit Italian families on the east side. As the booming “Fifth City” stirred awake, milk arrived at your door with a familiar name and a warm smile.
He stopped to chat with neighbors and greet familiar faces, but by the end of each delivery day, a few bottles always sat untouched in the truck bed. Day after day, curdling cream swirled down the drain as the unsold milk was poured away. However, young Miceli Sr. saw a lot more potential than just soured milk flowi