The bottle is empty, the cup and the glass.

Mud with Irish cream was not meant to last.

Dublin Mudslide, 2006 to 2007.

Dear listeners, we are gathered here today to remember our most comforting companion.

It was there through our heartbreaks, there for our celebrations, there when we needed a distraction from demanding children crying out.

Our milky mainstay.

Our late night snack.

I'm Dillon Thurris.

And today we're going to Waterbury, Vermont.

To a graveyard.

Behind Ben and Jerry's ice cream factory,

a flavor graveyard.

It may sound like a gimmick to you, but they have been serving up sweet relief for decades,

and that ice cream cemetery, the only one in the world as far as we know,

has become a way for true fans to mourn that empty spot in their freezer and the little missing piece of their soul.

More after this. Ben and Jerry's has built a reputation as a kind of fun company.

I mean, they make ice cream.

It's, that's a, that's a fun thing to make.

But like any large organization, they also take in their fair share of

complaints, especially when they get rid of products that people really like. Back in the 1990s,

just around Halloween, some Ben and Jerry's employees thought that it could be really fun to add an online graveyard for all the bygone flavors, the flavors that had gone to ice cream heaven and put it online.

People really loved it.

...