(via Catching Up With The ‘Fudgsicle Kid’)
The Sun ran the picture on Aug. 3, 1995, then again as part of a “best-of” feature at the end of the year. Last month, as editors assembled a special magazine to mark The Sun’s 175th anniversary, they named it one of the best pictures in the paper’s history and ran it again.
“Every time I think that picture is out of my life, here it comes again,” Boias says.
He never asked for the spotlight.
Seventeen summers ago, the Mid-Atlantic happened to be in the midst of a string of days in the 90s — three weeks’ worth, in fact, a record. On Aug. 2, this triggered a long-standing ritual at the Boias household: waiting for trusty John Hudson, the 55-year-old ice-cream man everyone called “Mr. John,” then rushing to the curb to enjoy some ice cream and conversation.
The underpants? Those were nothing new.
“I always dressed John like that [in the summer],” says Beth, a garrulous woman with a hearty laugh. “We’d just take him inside afterward and stick him in the shower.”