Our Facebook friend, Judith, shares a story with us:
Nearly 50 years ago, when I was four years old my mom brought back groceries and put Bosco syrup on the kitchen table. Being a very good Catholic girl from Pulaski Street in Newark NJ, I considered the bottle. I knew there was a St. Bosco and it made perfect sense to me that St. Bosco was made a saint for inventing Bosco Syrup and God must like people to have fun, too.
Our Facebook friend Missess Bee shares this story with us:
I loved Bosco! As a small child, I had to have my tonsils taken out. I was so scared and upset at the hospital, they could not calm me. I had my Bosco bear with me. They asked, “If Bosco goes through the xray and doesn’t cry, then would you?” Well, it worked, and for many years, my mother had Bosco’s xray. Then on vacation, I had forgotten him at the pool. When I realized he was gone, it was late at night, and in a thunderstorm. I became so upset, my mother made my older sister, go and get it anyway. This was around 1963. Bosco got me through a lot. Loved him, love the memory. Who ever it was that created the company, bear, etc., thank you!!
We hope the hospital let you have ice cream when you were recovering! Maybe with some Bosco syrup on it?
Our Twitter friend, @nascarnac, alerted us that we’ve never posted on this page about Seinfeld’s George Costanza, who is probably Bosco’s most famous fan. (Feel free to disagree in the comments, though.) Here’s some clips to jog your memory.
Since Amy shared her Bosco Bear with us a few months ago (see the original post), we’ve heard from some others who recognized Amy’s bear as the same one they had as children. Our Facebook friend, Janet, shares this story — and poem!
Hi Bosco folks! OMG!! That IS my bear! WOW!!! I’m ashamed to admit it but I changed his name to Tim to go along with a little poem I learned as a child. It’s kind of a sad little poem, but it goes like this…
I had a little teddy bear And his name was Tim; I put him in the bathtub To teach him how to swim. He drank up all the water, And ate up all the soap; And when I called the doctor, The doctor said, “No hope.” The next day he died with a bubble in his throat.
Thank you so much for sharing this picture. Somewhere I actually have a picture of him because I happened to be holding him when my dad took a photo of me.
Janet – thanks for sharing your story and great poem with us!
Our Bosco friend, Tony, from Queens, NY (originally) and Fort Myers, FL (now) writes us with a great story:
I was born & raised in Queens, New York in 1967. My family are Italian immigrants and had bled, sweat & cried to build an American dream for themselves. They started an Italian pork store/salumeria. It soon became the provider of generations to come. I remember as a 6 year old boy sweeping floors and spreading sawdust so no one was to slip, washing dishes & bagging groceries, that I would soon be rewarded with the taste of Latte con Bosco. You created what [some others are] TRYING to be to the world of Chocolate Milk Drinkers. It will never happen. You’re the leader, the pioneer, and the makers of many memories.
Thanks for your note, Tony, and for being a great life-long fan!