CALEDONIA, Mich. – A popcorn wagon that sells at various Michigan agricultural and other events is celebrating its 100th anniversary this summer. It is still in mostly original condition even if the popcorn costs a lot more than a nickel.

“Everyone loves popcorn,” Caledonia farmer and wagon owner Bill Hirsch said, “but to get it from such an attractive and old steam wagon, well that’s as good as it gets.”

Hirsch’s wagon is a 1926 Model C made by the originator of popcorn wagons and commercial corn popping, the Chicago-based Charles Cretors Co. Before Cretors invented his commercial popper in 1891, homemade popcorn was eaten as confections such as balls, crisps and cakes or strung on Christmas trees. Most people considered popcorn a candy or puffed breakfast food, not a snack.

After introducing an early wagon version at the 1893 Chicago World’s Columbian Exposition, Cretors patented his commercial-scale popping machine in 1894 and opened a wagon factory that ended up at 600 W. Cermack in Chicago. It took a team of craftsmen months to hand build each pushcart or wagon.

Hirsch’s model was built on a Ford automobile chassis with wooden-spoke wheels and was meant to be horse pulled, still somewhat common in the mid-1920s Chicago streets. Creators wholesaled the wagons on time payment and promised as much as 80 percent profits on the peanuts and popcorn they sold to help pay for them.

His rare model C had steam and electricity that continuously roasted peanuts as it popped corn. Hirsch said that the peanut roaster was removed, the popper electrified, and the wooden wheels replaced with Model A tired wheels and fenders in the 1940s, but parts of the old steam apparatus are still visible through the large side glass windows.

Hirsch’s grandfather and father updated it, electrifying the popper, removing the peanut roaster, replacing the wooden wheels, and covering the two front horse-rein holes with bits of shiny brass.

“The first time they took it out, they made $30,” Hirsch said. “The rest is history.”

Hirsch’s mother Kathleen took more of a liking to the contraption and it eventually went to her through a divorce in 1985. Kathleen was the oldest of five girls born to a Kent County dairy farm family who taught her the value of hard work.

According to Bill, she was a natural salesperson who rented real estate and also touted cold drinks, bakery, pies, jewelry and other goods at various outdoor events from trucks and her popcorn wagon. Her success earned her the nickname of the “Popcorn Lady,” a moniker she carried proudly throughout the rest of her life.

“I owe a lot to both of my parents, especially my mom,” Hirsch said. “She loved that popcorn wagon more than any of her other businesses. She was a people person and enjoyed meeting people at the window of her popcorn wagon.”

Hirsch helped his mother run the wagon in his early years as well as learning dairy farming from her and his grandfather, even after his grandfather sold his herd when Hirsch was 13. Attending Michigan State and working on nearby farms, Hirsch followed in his grandfather’s footsteps by operating his own Kent County dairy farm for 30 years, milking as many as 150 cows.

The popcorn wagon was always a pleasant respite for him and his family. Kathleen preferred weekend events rather than week or longer fairs. She took the wagon to various outdoor Michigan shows and events including the Burley Park Flea Market, the Grand Haven Coast Guard Festival, and the former Centreville, Mich., Antique Market. She was at the first Allegan Antique Market in 1978 and sold popcorn at every subsequent market.

In 1983, the Michigan Farm Bureau contacted Kathleen about distributing rather than selling popcorn at their annual state conventions and other events. Attendees munched as they walked between activities with the wagon sitting indoors near the registration table. The wagon “still makes great popcorn” the farm bureau noted in a 2023 press release.

“The state annual meeting was a more formal affair,” Hirsch said, “and we provided popcorn as a snack food between meetings to keep the members going.”

One of Kathleen and her son’s longest commutes with the wagon was to the annual Sandwich Fair in Sandwich, Ill., 60 miles west of Chicago. The fair had a strong agricultural tradition with livestock shows, antique farm machinery, 4-H and FFA competitions, and tractor and truck pulls.

“She’d pack us up to get to the fairgrounds before it started,” Hirsch recalled. The Sandwich High School FFA teacher would recruit students to help at Kathleen’s various stands. Hirsch remembered that one high schooler named Samantha returned for several summers, even passing popcorn through the wagon’s windows while she attended college.

The annual fairs ran the Wednesday through Sunday after Labor Day. “We would be exhausted by the last afternoon,” Hirsch said, “and then we had to pack up and the haul the 1,800-pound wagon back to Michigan Sunday nights through all the late summer Chicago traffic.”

Kathleen died in 2023.

“She was an amazing yet credible lady who worked hard but displayed kindness and caring every day of her life,” Hirsch said. “I miss her so much.”

Hirsch has taken over the wagon’s scheduling and maintenance in recent years. He plans to bring it to the Moline (Mich.) Milling Co-op’s 100th anniversary celebration this summer, a nice connection with the wagon’s past, and a few other regional events. But his main focus remains the farm bureau meetings and the five annual Allegan Sunday antique markets.

Between shows he cares for wagon’s wood, paint, brass and popper while it is stored in a protected barn. He has the assistance of a son Timothy and special friend Kimberly Ann along with a cadre of friends. Some have very special talents to help him maintain a unique wagon of that variety and age.

Hirsch has more time now because he sold his dairy herd a couple of years ago. He now has around 45 head of an Angus-Holstein cross breed, along with hay and corn. “Framing’s not an easy life,” Hirsch admitted, “but it’s a good one.”

At 62, he also knows the wagon will eventually need another caretaker. He hopes that role will fall to his 27-year-old son Tim, who could keep the wagon popping for another generation. Hirsch said his family and the wagon’s original owners certainly never thought it would survive 100 years, but then who buys anything that large, bright, shiny and new thinking about the antique it might become someday?