One of my maternal great grandfathers, James Harvey Dewar, son of a Scottish immigrant, was a street car operator in Bakersfield, California at the start of the twentieth century. He married Lena Clancy, an adopted girl with Basque and Catalonian roots and together, they had four children.
In 1909, James Harvey started what would become Dewar’s Candy and Ice Cream, an iconic Bakersfield institution. He purchased a recipe for taffy chews from a traveling salesman and began making the candy at home, Lena would wrap each chew with waxed paper and James Harvey would sell them each day. Soon, his candy sales became more lucrative than running a street car and he opened a shop.
From that humble beginning, Dewars was born. Today, that little business has a worldwide following for their unique chews; rich, delicious ice creams, hand made toppings and hand dipped chocolates, Dewars, now in the good hands of its fourth generation, has expanded to four Bakersfield locations and sells its chews at high end retailers including Disney and online worldwide .
My first job was at Dewars. By the time I was six or seven, mom was keen to have one fewer carpet creeper at home and she’d send me up to Grandma Dewar’s in the summertime. My grand folks had a summer place at Bass Lake but usually, Grandpa liked to work through Thursday before heading to the lake on Friday morning. He’d take me along with him on work days so Grandma could accomplish something at home and sometimes he’d let me sweep the back porch, scoop ice cream or get water for customers at the fountain counter. If I made a mistake on topping or ice cream flavor, he’d plop my concoction into a paper cup and place it in the freezer. Then we’d make the right one for the customer. At the end of the day, my “cripples” would have hardened up and he’d bring them home for dessert. Each summer, he’d mention what he would pay me for work; but of course, he’d have to charge back the cripples at retail, and I honestly don’t remember ever getting paid. That’s okay, I was far from the most underpaid family member on staff. When my Uncle George and cousin Heather went over the books once they took over, she was horrified to notice that our great Aunt Rosie (grandpa Jim’s little sister) and the shop’s master chocolate dipper, was still being paid less than $5 an hour. Rosie had never said a word, and we always joked that Grandpa had deep pockets but short arms. Uncle George and Heather made things right with a delighted Rosie and she dipped chocolates into the 21st century. While my Dewars experience ended by the time I was 10 or 11, I’ll never forget the clean, warm spell of peppermint, the stainless steel tables for making candy, the clean white and green walls, the dark hallway leading to the dipping room or getting to stand briefly in the hardening room to cool off once Bakersfield’s outside temps went into sticky triple digits as was the norm each summer.
I couldn’t be more proud of the business or tradition that four generations of my family have built. Each has run things their way and continue to grow and thrive. I’m always amazed by the number of people even up where we live who know Dewars. Seems that if you ever spent time in Bakersfield, Dewars was on your radar. I always take bags of chews back to DC with me. Nothing gets you past a congressional staffer faster than a bag of chews. Many would comment that Kevin McCarthy’s office gives the chews as gifts; but, I have to let them know that my connection is a bit more personal. Cheers to the Dewars as they start their 125th year! You sure make a lot of people very happy and a at least some a little tubbier!!!
Kris Stewart is a rancher in Paradise Valley, Nevada.