I don't consider myself to be "old." But in the relatively short time that I have been on Earth, I have seen a few things which have - sadly - passed on to the dustbin of eternity. Before my failing memory gets any foggier, I've decided to put into writing some of those little things which I recall, or which I recall others mentioning, about New York.
I remember ...
the stink which would waft from Van Iderstine's fat-rendering plant around the Newtown Creek on hot summer evenings. I'm not sure what the fat was rendered into, but until the operation closed down sometime in the late '60s or early '70s, residents in my area of Queens - a mile or so north of the Newtown Creek - could, in the dog days of summer, expect to be inundated by what I could best describe as the odor which one gets when following a garbage truck. In fact, I have encountered similar smells in my travels in an industrial area around the English Kills in northern Brooklyn where there are some refuse-transporting facilities. But the odors which emanate from those operations are localized and are far more tolerable than those which I recall from my youth. I have been told that at one time my maternal grandmother worked at Van Iderstine's - doing what, I'm not sure.
I remember ...
the "claw" for cleaning out sewage drains. (No, not all my memories are garbage-oriented.) It's been many years since I have seen the Sanitation Department perform one of their curb-side sewer-cleaning operations. The drill, as I observed it many times, went as follows: Sanitation men would arrive with two trucks, a dump truck, and another one carrying a crane-like contraption from the end of which dangled a metal jaw. With some crowbar implements they'd remove the heavy metal grating which covered the sewer. Then the operator on the "claw" truck would swing the crane over the basin, open the jaw, lower it by means of a cable, close the jaw to grab some muck, then dump that muck into the back of the other truck. This would be repeated until - presumably - the sewer was clear of clogging refuse. The mystery to me is: Why haven't I seen this done lately, even though I've seen many catch basins which are obviously brimming with trash - so much so that rainwater cannot drain into them?
I remember ...
the little kiddie amusement park on the north side of Queens Boulevard in Elmhurst, near (or was it at?) the present site of the Queens Center shopping mall. (A correspondent has indicated to me that the place was called Fairyland, and that it was located where Queens Center presently stands.) My memory about this place is very vague, save for its approximate location and the fact that it had a carousel. I do recall going there - presumably with my mom and my very young sister - sometime in the early '60s, and politely (no tantrums for me, thank you) refusing to taking a ride on that carousel. I think it was the loud calliope which freaked me out. (Still does.) There was also a similar operation with small kiddie rides somewhere in Howard Beach, on the west side of Cross Bay Boulevard from at least the '60s to the early '90s. I recently went to that area to verify its existence and found that it was no longer there. There is, however, an establishment called Carosello Arcade on Cross Bay Boulevard at 163rd Avenue - approximately where my admittedly imperfect memory indicated that the amusement park had been - which supposedly has a game room, in addition to a family-oriented restaurant.
I remember ...
the truck-borne kiddie rides which would visit my neighborhood each summer. Two of these stick in my mind: One had a swing with several tiers of seats on each side for a total of maybe twenty children. The other had cars (each single-occupancy?) which ran around a small oval track. Very thrilling! Not related, but I remember that there also used to be a truck with a grinding wheel which came around occasionally and offerred the service of sharpening one's knives, scissors, and other such implements. That one apparently outlasted the trucks which delivered blocks of ice, since I only heard about them and never witnessed them.
I remember ...
riding old subway cars on which a conductor would stand between two cars in order to operate the door controls. I encountered these on the 14th Street L line in my travels to and from high school in the early '70s. They were just about at the end of their lives, starting to be replaced around that time by up-to-date rolling stock. They, of course, weren't air-conditioned, having some form of ceiling-mounted fans and roof vents. (Check 'em out at the New York Transit Museum .) But the unusual thing about them, as I indicated, was that the conductor would open and close the doors by pulling electronic levers which were mounted high on the ends of each car. The conductor would ride the train at its midway point, as one would do today. Upon approaching a station, he would get between the cars and stand on two small platforms - one on each car - in order to reach the door controls. So he was straddling the gap between two cars - a precarious position, especially in foul weather. I don't want to know how many lives were lost because of a jolt of a train or a misstep.
I remember ...
being served by waitresses at the local White Castle. At least at the one in my neighborhood - which is still at the southeast corner of Queens Boulevard and 43rd Street - there was waitress service. There were several enameled-metal picnic tables - with umbrellas - around the periphery of the restaurant. A waitress would take your order and serve you, just as one would at any restaurant. Supposedly, I have been told, tipping wasn't allowed. (Let's see. Ten burgers at five cents each. What's 15% of that?) Anyway, this practice went on probably until the place was renovated in the late '60s, which enlarged it considerably and put all its seating inside. (At that time, the building was either leveled or was removed piece by piece. It took maybe the better part of a year for its replacement to be built and to finally open. Quite a hardship for me and other lovers of their tasty burgers to go without them or to have to go elsewhere for them.) Fortunately, it had enough property to make that conversion. A similar operation in Woodside at the northeast corner of Roosevelt Avenue and 69th Street apparently didn't have that luxury, and shut down - exactly when, I'm not sure. I do remember vividly that there was a sign in that outlet which indicated that its tiled floor could bear only x number of pounds per square foot, and there wasn't very much floor space to work with. The place was always pretty jammed when I visited it. Maybe its floor reached its breaking point.
I remember ...
the Good Humor Man. As of the time I am writing this - August 2002 - Mr. Softee continues to ply his frozen wares - either by cruising the city's streets, or by parking at a street corner. From the back of his large truck, a Mr. Softee vendor peddles ice cream treats of various design. But back when I was a mere tyke in the '60s, the Good Humor Man ruled. With a jingle of bells - not a recorded lyricless ditty - he would announce his arrival. Sometimes he would come in a small truck - a glorified freezer on wheels - other times on a pedaled contraption with a small icebox in front, offering such delights as Toasted Almond, Chocolate Eclair, and Strawberry Shortcake ice cream bars. Although those same goodies continue to appear in supermarket freezers, I miss the association with the guy in the white suit. (Maybe someday another nice man in a white suit will pay me a visit. But that's another story.)
On a related note, my favorite uncle, my mother's brother Calvin, lived in Mineola, in Nassau County. In his neck of the woods was a purveyor of frozen treats, called Bungalow Bar. (I believe that the back of the truck was made to look like a miniature log cabin, hence the name.) I recall my uncle teaching me this mock jingle: "Bungalow Bar / Tastes like tar / Take a bite and you spit it far." (And people wonder why I turned out the way I did.) A correspondent has indicated to me that he recalled a slightly different version of the Bungalow Bar song, but with the same nasty spirit: "Bungalow Bar / Tastes like tar / The more you eat it, the sicker you are." I wonder why Bungalow Bar inspired such negativity. Were their products really inferior? Were their vendors surly? Or was this a subtle plot by Good Humor to push this rival out of business? In any case, Bungalow Bar no longer exists, as far as I know.
I couldn't resist doing a Web search on "Bungalow Bar." Here are some pages of interest:
American Crafts Online: Limited-Edition Bungalow Bar Ice Cream Truck Ceramic Cookie Jar
Out In The Streets: The Story of The Shangri-Las
Henry Cavanagh: Limited-Edition Bungalow Bar Ice Cream Truck Ceramic Cookie Jar
Raskin Family History & Articles
WMOB - The Wiretap Network: The Frank & Fritzy Show: Limited-Edition Bungalow Bar Ice Cream Truck Ceramic Cookie Jar
Yahoo! Shopping: American Crafts Online: Ice Cream Truck Ceramic Cookie Jars
The Sopranos Fan Mega Site: Transcript of Episode #10 ("A Hit Is A Hit")
Parallel Press Poetry Chapbooks: "What the Body Knows" by Alison Townsend
Bronx View: Memories: Highbridge by Rob Auerbach
CeramiCar: 1950s-Style Ice Cream Truck Ceramic Cookie Jars
Priscilla Normandy Greenwood's Family Album: Growing up in Williamsburg, Brooklyn: My Friends and the Games We Played
EditPros News / July 2001: Feature: How genealogy can help you become a better writer
GW's Dale Earnhardt Diecast Page: Bungalow Bar Ice Cream Truck Diecast Replica
I remember ...
playgrounds which weren't exactly the safest places in the world for kids to play. Some - actually, most - of their equipment was conducive to causing injury of one sort or another.
April 2004: Carvel Ice Cream has launched a Memories and Memorabilia Search, in which it is requesting the submission of old photos, videos, and Carvel items, along with a description of why Carvel made the memory special. Carvel will pick a prizewinner to receive an ice cream cake delivered every month for a year. I hesitate to enter this contest, but I do have a vivid recollection of a "Carvel moment."
This must have occurred in the very late '60s or early '70s. Carvel had been running TV ads promoting a new product, ice cream served in a small plastic baseball helmet. Nowadays that's nothing special - I've seen the same thing sold at Shea Stadium - but back then it was something new. Well, my Dad got the urge to get us kids some of these treats. We lived on 48th Street, between 48th and 50th Avenues, and the nearest Carvel place was on Northern Boulevard, around 54th Street. I know that he and I hiked there on a warm summer evening. My sister might have joined us. (She confirms the event, not necessarily accompanying us.) Maybe also my Mom and brother. Anyway, it had to have taken us the better part of an hour to get to the place. Dad placed the order, only to be informed by the counterperson that they didn't have any helmets. No, they didn't run out because of high demand for this item. They just didn't carry this product. According to the fellow, the ice cream-in-a-baseball-helmet was available only at participating Carvel outlets. (This was certainly the first time I would become aware of what is known as a disclaimer - the fine print, so to speak.) Needless to say, my father was not very happy. I don't remember if he gave the guy a piece of his mind - probably not - or if we purchased anything in lieu of the expected treats. In any case, I presume that Dad felt than a little crushed in his failed attempt to do his good deed - not his fault, of course - and we tramped all the way back home.
I remember ...
assembly in elementary school (P.S. 199Q) in the mid-to-late 1960s, in which we were gathered en masse in the auditorium for some or another function. (Did they get the whole student body together at those times, or just specific grades? I'm not sure.)
Generally, in 4th, 5th, and 6th grades each class performed a play. As I recall, my 4th grade class acted in an effort called "Dr. Leviticus." If I'm correct, during my 5th grade year there was a teachers' strike, so we were off the hook with the play duties, so to speak. In 6th grade, my class took on the ambitious musical "Oliver!," songs and all.
On numerous occasions, assembly events were instructed sing-alongs. Towards the end of each calendar year, we were taught to sing "seasonal" songs. They were primarily winter- and Christmas-themed ones, but I do remember having sung the "Dreidel" song, as well. Similarly, in preparation for our graduation in 6th grade, we practiced songs for that event.
Also, at some point in my elementary school days, we sang various science-related songs. Two of them in particular ring a bell - "Zoom a Little Zoom" and "Friction." Presumably, during the ongoing space race between the Americans and the Soviets, these songs were meant to inspire scientific curiosity in us young ones. My Internet sleuthing turned up four pages which reference the former song:
On occasion, we also were treated to educational films. The one which sticks in my mind, having seen it several times in that venue, is "Hemo the Magnificent," in which the circulatory system was explained. (It got such vigorous play that I remember the sound track becoming inaudible after some time. Did the film even break eventually?) Checking out the Internet Movie DataBase, I learned that this film, which originally aired on TV in 1957, was directed (and written) by the legendary Frank Capra, of "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" fame. Well, I'll be darned! Supposedly, he also wrote and directed the 1956 educational TV movie "Our Mr. Sun." (See this page.) The title is vaguely familiar, but not as much as "Hemo."
Lastly - and this might have been shown in junior high school, not elementary school - was a film showing the workings of a slaughterhouse. Cows, pigs, and sheep being hung by their legs, being ferried along on mechanical conveyors, then having their throats slit. Lots of blood, what have you. Very vivid. Presumably, the teacher responsible for our viewing of this effort was a vegetarian. Its images have dimmed in my mind somewhat, but the general recollection of having seen the film remains firmly embedded. Nonetheless, even after all this time, I'm still an unrepentant omnivore.
From a correspondent, Bob:
"Yes indeed, Fairyland did exist in the early 1960's and did stand on the site of the Queens Center Mall. I spent many a summer's day there with my friends until we got word that the little park's days were numbered. That was sad. Sharing the site, before everything was ripped down for the big mall, was a 'Billy Blake's' supermarket. As legend has it, one aging resident was approached for the purpose of buying her smallish house -- the intent, again, was demolition preparatory to construction of the Queens Center Mall. [Webmaster: I believe that it was the developer of the circular building which Macy's occupied until the late 1990s - now called Queens Place - not that of the Queens Center Mall who wanted her property.] The owner refused all offers and the management of the mall shrugged their collective shoulders and built accordingly, in the remaining space. The house is still there; a Davidic structure which seemingly stares up in defiance of Goliath. Makes me want to stand up and applaud."As you mentioned, not far from Fairyland was the White Castle. That was another summertime tradition and we'd pull up in Dad's old Pontiac to buy our burgers and fries from the carhops who used little magnetic keys to activate the outdoor ordering microphones. In those days, no Kool-Aid, Fizzies-Time or Funny-Face Drinks tasted as good as water gurgling out of a garden hose in August (sans nozzle, of course). To a kid, nothing compared to the giddy feeling of the last day of school in June. The yawning expanse of paper across the summertime calendar seemed endless, until the middle of August -- and then we knew, by the appearance of 'back to school' sales, that the party was almost over. To this day, I can't stand the sight of such advertisements.
"The other park, on the way to Howard Beach, was 'Forest Park.' They had a lovely carousel. When I was grown up, in my twenties, we'd fly model airplanes there. Hm. Maybe I hadn't grown up, after all. Oh well, it didn't matter whether you were a kid or an adult when it came to visiting Pizza City. That grand old edifice was the capital of Howard Beach and surrounded by all manner of amusements, including a go-cart track. What a shame that Pizza City is no more.
"The Good Humor man put in an occasional appearance in our neighborhood, but our block was the territory of Pete, the Bungalow Bar ice cream man. Pete was aged and frail, but he became no more so, even through the decades that followed. He patiently waited on generations of kids in our neighborhood and seemed to enjoy every minute of it. Eventually, Mr. Softee shouldered into Pete's territory, but those were somewhat more genteel times and both rolling establishments seemed to coexist peacefully. I long for the days when neighbors would gather for dusk 'stoop parties,' with pitchers of cold drinks and church-sale baked goods. It's a shame today's kids will never know the joy of joining up with others to chase down lightning bugs with a big ol' jar. Blame video games, I guess.
"We didn't have air conditioning back when we were kids and I remember being awfully warm in bed, flipping the pillow with regular frequency as its bottom side cooled against the natural heat-sink of the mattress.
"Child seats in cars didn't exist in their present form, of course and those that did were not attempting any pretense of protection. Rather, such metal frameworks were clipped to the backrest of the front seat and the toddler inserted therein, so as to keep the kid more or less stationary. For purposes of maintaining such static positioning, a distraction, in the form of a cute plastic steering wheel was attached and the child actually believed such minuscule gadgetry would impart directional control to the family behemoth. There was a little horn in the middle and it was more fun than repeatedly shouting, 'Are we there yet?' Older children could lay down on the rear deck, pressing against the back window, or sit on Dad's lap, sharing the driving duties, four hands on the wheel.
"Ah, the cars! Those were the days when you could tell the make and model of an automobile at a glance. They came in two basic types -- the underpowered, albeit voluptuous juggernauts that looked as though they had fallen out of a jello mold -- and those that were shaped more or less like shoeboxes, sporting all manner of fins, slanty radio antennas and gas-guzzling V-8's. It could be said of the latter that the coachmaker's art had taken absolute control, designing with almost sexual abandon and completely ignoring the adage about form following function. Excess was everywhere and such vehicles carried literally hundreds of pounds of chrome. There were no shoulder belts, of course and just to make absolutely certain all occupants would be seriously injured in all but the most minor of fenderbenders, the dashboards were cast of solid steel and festooned with jutting handles, levers and other assorted weaponry. American cars were BUILT back then and even the headlight dimmer switch on the floor was a military surplus firing button from a submarine's torpedo tubes. Whatever happened to 'fresh air' windows?
"Some parts of the old neighborhood remain in existence. You can still get burgers at the same White Castle. Jad's candy store is still there and you can still buy a slice at Gino's pizzeria. Occasionally, you can hear the sound of English being spoken in the old neighborhood. And when it is, the speaker is usually musing about the old days."
"Funny you should mention memories of the Worlds Fair. [See below.] I recently did an article for a historical publication, here on Long Island. (Okay, so it's my publication. So what?) I'll upload it to this e-mail so you can download and read it, but before I do, let me give you a bit of personal intro here: I bring you back, now, to a much simpler time... Jug Flyer: I was about 5 or 6 years old and the year was, oh..... 1961 or 62. Now, of course, you're aware of Flushing Meadow Park, in Queens. Well, back in 1939, the New York Worlds fair was built on a great, big hunk of swampland in Queens. After the fair expired, most of the buildings and pavilions were demolished and what was left was this great big, grassy park. And it was HUGE. People still called it "The Fairgrounds," though, just as they do now. My grandmother lived around the block from the old 1939 Worlds Fair grounds and after we all had our Sunday dinner of Nanna's home-made ravioli, me and my Dad would 'walk it off' and we'd stroll through the old fairgrounds.
"It was just a park, then. But like I said, there were still a few remnants of the 39 Worlds Fair, one of which was this incredible weather vane, built by the Budd company. Now, picture a slim, vertical, metal cone, maybe one or two hundred feet tall. Maybe more -- And then, perched on top of that slim, vertical cone was a slim horizontal metal cone. And along the sides of this horizontal cone, was this series of round port-holes. Round cut-outs -- Kinda like airliner windows in the side (It was supposed to bring to mind an art-deco rocketship). Well, me and Dad would always stop at that incredible thing and just stand there and look up at it. And so, I always associated that park with space travel.
"Anyway... at some point, the remnants of the '39 Worlds Fair, including that fabulous weathervane, were cleared away from the park to make room for the 1964 Worlds Fair, but the park remained open during this demolition because there were really very few things that needed to be cleared away. When they knocked over the weathervane, I was saddened, but at least I could finally walk right up to it. The back end of that thing was big enough to drive a train into. Well, I walked inside and enjoyed the echo-chamber effect and read the graffiti that somehow got in there from 1939 (probably from the original workers who put it up in the first place).
"Anyway, that closed that chapter of the park. Then the 1964 Worlds Fair was built and it was the greatest Worlds Fair ever put together. In fact, they spared absolutely no expense -- to the point where they went broke in less than two years. It was that incredible. Never been anything like it since.
"Now, I should mention, we were an aerospace family. My Dad was the machinist that turned out the landing gear that went on the manned Lunar Excursion Module that brought Neil Armstrong to the moon. Just before Niel Armstrong stepped out on the moon, my Daddy's footprints were there first! So, okay, the WF came along and part of it was this 2-acre area called 'U.S. Space Park.' There's a photo of it here . That photo covers about 1/8th of what was there, just in Space Park.
"Now, notice those two rockets. The natural, unpainted metal one had a subtle cone shape and for the sake of subtlety, I'll leave it at that.
"Now, we practically lived at the worlds fair because of its close proximity and Space Park was my favorite part of the fair. It was right next to the Hall of Science. Okay... in 1965, the WF closed down. :-( But the Worlds Fair corporation had made a deal with the parks department, such that after the fair was concluded, all the exhibitors would demolish their pavilions and create new landscaping for a new park and this way, the city of NY would get a brand new park out of it. It would be called Flushing Meadow Park, but as you know, everybody in Queens always called it 'The Fairgrounds.' Now, some exhibits and buildings were considered just too awesome to destroy and, like the remnants of the 1939 Worlds Fair and it's weathervane, some things were left in place, including SPACE PARK and the Hall of Science! Well, I missed the rest of the fair because it was truly awesome, but I so loved my Space Park and I kinda liked the Hall of Science, too.
"I was 9 years old at the 64 WF... still a growing boy, as was my little brother and after Sunday dinner, me, my brother and my Dad continued our tradition and we'd walk to Space Park and Dad would have me and Ronnie stand up next to the Atlas Rocket and take our picture with his Poloroid to document our rate of growth. And this became a ritual (The rocket was his vertical reference to our growth). Then, he'd take out his pencil and make a pencil mark on one side of the rocket at my height and another on the other side of the rocket for Ron's height.
"Those rockets stood there for 40 years.
"Now, rockets are just NOT designed to do that. Well, a couple of years ago, I drove my Dad back from a minor medical procedure at a hospital and it had gone so well that, as we were driving back, I said, 'Hey Dad, how bout we take a drive by 'the fair' and look at the rockets?'
"Well, when we got there, the rockets were gone. :-( They had been one of the indestructable constants of my life, like gravity and sunshine. But, y'know, it was kind of no surprise that they were gone as I'd seen Space Park decay into ruin over the years. It had been just a matter of time. But me and Dad drove home a little down-hearted and depressed. Those rockets were 'ours.'
"But then, something so incredibly wonderful happened! And you can read all about it in my newsletter. Download and open."
[Webmaster's note: Bob sent me a PDF file of the Spring 2004 issue of "Juggernaut News" (The Official Newsletter of the P-47 Alumni Association), but due to the size of this attachment (2.82 Mbytes) I have not uploaded it to my web server.]
From a correspondent, Mechele:
"I stumbled on your 'I remember' page while googling 'Fairyland' +queens (needless to say, that made for very strange search results) and what a delight to read your notes! In the current issue of the New Yorker is an article about roller coasters. One thing led to another and I started to think about Fairyland. I grew up just blocks from it and went there countless times. It had a modest roller coaster, a tilt-o-wheel, carousel, and ferris wheel and some kiddie versions of the same. In the game house I played skee-ball, got fortunes from the mechanical gypsy lady, and went into a booth to make a plastic record of me singing 'Sunny.' The games would earn you tickets you could redeem for toys and novelties. I collected piles of these tickets, but can't remember getting anything but mexican jumping beans... In the restaurant they would serve crinkly french fries you ate out of a red checkered paper basket with a wooden fork..."I have a memory so surreal I wonder if I dreamed it. No, I'm pretty sure it happened. My family moved out of the Queen in the early 70's. I was back visiting my junior high school friends - maybe it was 1972 or 1973 - and we walked back to the site where they had just demolished Fairyland to start building Macy's. We walked around in the rubble and suddenly I noticed beneath my feet a surviving section of the terrazzo floor of the restaurant. It was under dust and rubble but I notice this piece of floor and the corner of the image imbedded in that floor - a big happy clown. I would love to know if anyone else remembers that!
"By the way, the response you posted on your page from someone who also remembers Fairyland contained memories I share. Pete and Bungalow Bar! I remember a white truck with doors and heavy latches, with a brown roof, faked to look like thatch. When Pete - always smiling and very, very old - would come by, I'd yell up to my mother for money and she would drop it out the window tied in a handkerchief. I'd ask him for the 'usual' - an ice cream bar called a 'rocket' where you'd push the stick from the bottom and a vanilla and chocolate fudge thing would emerge.
"On our street would be parked those big, extravagant cars. I would scramble up on the hood with my friend Johnny and we would pretend to drive - or he could pretend to drive and I would be the passenger. Once, after he told me I couldn't drive because I was a girl, I punched him.
"Well, thanks so much for the memories!"
I remember ...
the 1964-65 World's Fair at Flushing Meadows. Being only a short distance from the Fair by subway - only ten stops from the 46th Street station to Willets Point - my family made a number of trips there in the two years that the Fair was open. Although I was only around six or seven years old at the time, the Fair made a big impression on me. In no particular order, here are some of my recollections:
From a correspondent, Gary Dieckman:
"Hi, I'm Gary Dieckman and I was born in 1948 and grew up on 84 street and 57 ave in Elmhurst, literally in the shadow of the Queens Gas Tanks. My cousin, Pete, lives now in the house on 83 street that our grandfather bought in 1914 (when 83 street was Carter Street). Gramps was born in 1892 on the Dieckmann family farm which was on what is now 57 Ave and 82 street
"I remember Fairyland which was indeed on the site of the Queens Mall back when the hospital across Hoffman drive from the Elmwood movie was known as "Horace Harding Hospital." [Note: It's now St. John's Hospital.]
"To correspondent Mechelle - YES there was a large clown face in the floor of the amusement area-just before you got to the Skeeball alleys and right in front of the counter were you traded in your hard earned coupons for those mexican jumping beans. Thanks for reminding me about the wooden forks with the french fries.
"When I was really little, my favorite ride was the little metal boats you could sit in and they went around and around in a trough of real water!! You could spin the phoney little steering wheels and pretend you were piloting one of those storm-tossed destroyers you had just seen a few nights before on "Victory at Sea." Jeez - maybe thats why I went into the Navy in '68!!
"White Castle is still there though now rebuilt a number of times - My brother and I were the last ones to get 10 cent hamburgers - they changed the sign as we paid and the next guy had to pay twelve cents - he was pretty pissed.
"The store near Fairyland was originally known as Shoppers Field and I think they opened around '59 or so. They had a decent hobby and toy dept. My grandmother bought us some HO scale trains there some of which I still have. Talk about my grandmother - in the fifties she was the candy lady at the elmwood theater and my friends and I would get in for free - but we still had to sit in the children's section. One of the movies I saw there was the one with Charlton Heston and the army ants (is it Naked Jungle?) I had nightmares for days about ants swarming over my bed!!I remember going behind the movie screen to help load the popcorn machine. There was still alot of sets and other stage equipment from when the Elmwood was a real theater.
"Remember when Macy's was built around '63 or so? Yes, the lady on the corner did not sell her property and the round building, to this day, has a notch cut out of it where the shape would have overhung the property. I think there's a bank on the sight now. Funny thing, Macy's had the same problem in 1905 when they built on 34 st in Manhattan. That hold-out building is till there - with a giant MACYS sign on its roof.
"Who remembers the junk yards and old cemetery from the Presbyterian church that existed on the Macys site? How about the old court house on Broadway just up from the Dutch reformed church. The courthouse came down c1960.
"My father used to work Saturday nights at the mobil station right across from the Elmwood Movie. The station is still there and, as of two years ago, the guy my father worked for, Rocky, still owned the place. Anyhow, Dad would come home on Saturday night around eleven with fresh Danish from a bakery on Broadway and the family would watch old Universal Studio horror films on Channel 9 hosted by (who else?) ZACHERLY.
"Finally, I still have my ticket stub to the first game ever played at Shea Stadium (April 17, 1964 Pirates 4, Mets 3).
"I graduated sixth grade from p.s. 102 in 1959 and ninth grade from jhs 73 in Maspeth in 1962.
"Anyone remember the building of the LIE through the neighborhood in the fifties? Man, those steam shovels were neat!!
"Anyone interested feel free to email me at Gary@exprint.com "
A follow-up from Mr. Dieckman:
"Here's another - the tracks you mention running down Grand Ave in Maspeth [see: Vestiges of Old Railroad Tracks In NYC] are trolley tracks. My grandfather, Al Dieckman, was, for a short time, a conductor on those trolleys. They were no longer in use in the early fifties - but I remember riding a trolley across the Queensborough bridge as a little kid - maybe 1952-53.
"Trolley Barn- There was a trolley barn in Maspeth across the street from where my Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Barney lived. Uncle Barney was a veteran of the Rainbow Division (I think that's the 42nd) in WWI and Aunt Lizzie was my Grandfather Dieckman's sister. Anyhow - my cousin Pete probably remembers the exact street location. I'll send him an email."
Additionally from Mr. Dieckman:
"The trolley barn I mentioned last week was on Brown Place, in Maspeth, right on, or one block from, Grand Avenue. [See map below] My cousin, who was born in 1947 remembers riding the Grand Avenue Trolley as a tot so they must have been in operation until about 1950.
"A bit of family lore you might find amusing - My cousin tells me that, were it not for our Gramps working as conductor on that line, we wouldn't exist. It seems Gramps took a liking to one of his riders, Mary Wester of Brooklyn. They married in 1912 and, as a result, here I am typing you this note!
"Incidentally, as a young child my grandmother, Mary Wester (1893-1964), attended school in Brooklyn with a girl having a similar name; teachers often confused the two. The other child, Mary West, left school early and went on to fame and fortune as Mae West."
Note: This agrees with the historical information of the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation about Horse Cars Rest Stop, a park which occupies the small triangular wedge bounded by 69th Street, the Queens Midtown Expressway, and 58th Avenue. See this page .
From a correspondent, Suzanne Hughes-Daigle:
"ahh the found memories of the rides. I was a candy-striper at St. John's Hospital the year that Fairyland was torn down. Watching the demolition from the hospital window, I knew that things were changing, and an innocents would be lost. As for Bungalow Bar vs Mr. Softee, I cannot recall the name of the man from Bungalow Bar, but rumor has it that he was so impressed with the friendliness of the people on 60th Lane Glendale, that he moved there How many can reach far back into their memories and recall the old HORSE drawn wagons of vegetables,etc... My father's aunt owned a house on Harmon Street, in the side yard was the barn where these horses were stabled. People are still amazed when I tell them how I would ride horses in my aunts yard in NYC. This past spring (2004) I brought my teenage sons from our Massachusetts home to visit what I still consider home, Ridgewood/Glendale. When we went to visit my aunt's home the scent of horses was still in the air.... so of course we had to go to Forest Park and ride the carousel..."
From a correspondent, Greg Wood:
"Peter, I feel like I can call you by your first name since we are 'homeboys', I blundered onto your site and enjoyed it a lot. I grew up on Northern Boulevard and 34th st. in LIC, where my father, and grandfather before had "Maloney's Bar" for 60 or 80 years. My grandmother lived at 40-02 47th ave. in Sunnyside til her passing in the early 70's. I have such an ol' lang syne thing for the area that I pass thru the area whenever I'm in NY. Your mention of the Van Iderstine stink brought back some real memories and laughs. Every time we could smell it we ran to the phone and called the EPA hotline to complain. Over the t'ksgiving weekend [2004] while driving in from LI to NYC I went down to 27th st to do a short drive down the Dutch Kills and out Newtown creek , There is actually a 'titty bar' opened right on the kills shore right next to the Borden Ave. Bridge! I guess that qualifies as gentrification. (I still miss the classic old diner that used to be across the street) The old greek guy who owned it used to think I was crazy because I used to like to stop in and dine alongside scenic Dutch Kills. I guess I am crazy because a lifetime dream is to sleep on a houseboat beyond the Grand Ave Bridge in the "east branch" before they fix it shut forever. A walk over the little railroad bridge down at the very end of the English Kills is High Adventure. I did that last year. Again, thanks for the memories!"My fathers bar & grill, Maloney's closed in 1985 when he sold the building to a Korean gentleman was CPA to many fruit and vegitable markets around the city. The original 1890's interior was torn out and for a number of years it was a Columbian nightclub. One night in the early 90's there was a rather serious altercation there between some of the patrons, two of whom were shot dead. The staff removed the deceased and placed them outside alongside the curb behind the parked cars. An alarmed passerby called the police, who upon driving by, missed the cadavers completely and returned to the station house. Needless to say, with the dawn came turmoil and changes among management at the top of that facility. The bar when my father owned it, was the primary watering hole for the employees of the ajacent Pennsylvania rail yards. As it was before the advent of the National Transportation safety Board, quite often one of my brothers or myself would have to assist one or another engineer back down to the yard so they could take their GG1 to points south. The bar is now a computer store and virtually everything south of it on the block was demolished for a subway improvement project the nature of which I have never discovered. [Webmaster's note: Presumably that subway improvement project is the one linking the IND line to the 63rd Street tunnel - formerly 'The Tunnel to Nowhere.'] Across Northern Boulevard was the 'Roto-Broil' factory in the 50's and 60's owned by Leon Klinghoffer who was shot by terrorists aboard the 'Achille Lauro'. It was the scene of some first_class labor unrest back then, with real life mini-riots breaking out during strikes. There was a six story pink neon sign that ran up the front of the building that said 'Roto-Broil 400' with a neon chicken turning at the bottom. This was probably when Ron Popiel was a mere chicken himself, because it was just like a larger version of what he sells on tv now. Leon used to scream and spit at his employees, perhaps one cause of the labor unrest. He apparently did likewise to the terrorists, a brave but foolhardy gesture from a man in a wheelchair. Back in the 30,s Mrs. Hellman and her husband made Mayonnaise in the building, and the water tower on the roof was painted like one of their jars. Diagonally across from Maloney's to the north on 34th st and 38th Ave was the Pierce-Arrow Building. One can still see the P-A logo with the target and arrow along the top of the building, When I was growing up they made Olympic Televisions there. I remember going up to the Honeywell bridge with my dad one day in '59 to watch the last steam train leave the Sunnyside Yard on the Pennsylvania Railroad. I rode with our neighbor Max Dahl who owned City Liquors near the corner of 34th st. and Northern Boulevard to run next to the last trolley across the 59th St. bridge in 1957. Max sold City Liquors to Serafino Santini, son of August Santini, one of the original Seven Santini Brothers of Moving Company Fame. Max died in 1964 his wife Hilda in 1990. The store, the star diner next to it, a decrepit ancient O'Mahoney original, and another small building to the north which once housed the barbershop of the Passerella family (Frederick's Funeral Homes) were all removed to make way for the subway.
"WWII airplanes, the 'Brewster Buffalo,' were made down in Queens Plaza at the Brewster Automobile plant on the right side facing manhattan. For many years it had a large metal plaque on the corner saying 'Brewster & Co., Rolls Royce' They were one of the famous coachbuilders of the time and assembled the american version of the Rolls along with their own car, a fabulously expensive and rare beast. Parts of the airplanes were made at several of the factories along Northern Boulevard from the Honeywell bridge going East, as well as the Pierce Arrow plant. The biggest of these is the one just at the foot of the bridge on the east side which was the Squibb Drug Company."
From a correspondent, Laura H. McBride:
"Hi!Great site. I'm trying to find stuff about Grandview Dairy, for which my late grandfather was the accountant 1940s-1970 or so, and happened upon your site. I LOVED that kiddie ride place. My grandparents lived in Liberty Park and my best friend and I would take my younger brother out there and all of us rode until we dropped. And then we had pizza at Pizza Prince nearby, before getting the bus back. My brother and his wife and my (at the time) husband went out there in about 1988 or 1989, and it was still there. We crammed outselves onto the roller coaster--which must have reached the dizzying heights of 20 feet!--while the parents with kids looked at us like we were escapees from Meadowbrook. My brother and I thought it was great, and our spouses--one from Atlanta and one from Baltimore--were happy to participate. The best story I have about it from the youth days was that my friend was eating a cotton candy when we were on the teacups and it flew out of her hand and smacked some woman in the face. At 12, we thought it was hysterical, but we also sort of lost ourselves in the shuffle getting off the ride.
Thanks for the site. I'm going to read the rest of it now. And if you know anything at all about Grandview Dairy in Ridgewood (right on the Brooklyn line), I'd love to hear it."
From the "webmaster": If you have any information regarding the Grandview Dairy in Ridgewood, please e-mail me at pizzabagel@prodigy.net and I will forward it to Ms. McBride.
From a correspondent, Maury:
"Hi.I was born in 61, so my memories of the Worlds Fair are - well, foggy. As we lived in flushing, we went to the WF quite a few times. I was being pushed around in a stroller... so while I have lots of memories on the WF, one of the more vivid ones is of the cool street lights. ( I was frequently lying down in the stroller, looking up) Their design was a bunch of cubes attached in a seemingly random array, with each side made of a square of plastic, in a primary color.
I also remember the Abe Lincoln animatronic exhibit, which somewhat scared me... I really didn't understand what he was saying, but his tone was so serious that it made me nervous. And yes, there is a similar exhibit at Disneyland, in California. I've been there several times, and each time, I was the only one present at the "attraction". I heard a rumour that it would be replaced, soon.
And the hall of science! My favorite. My dad is a scientist, so we went there quite often... and with the space program in full bloom, the rocket park was about the coolest thing imaginable. Talk about "imprinting"... As an adult, I even went to "Space Camp" in Huntsville, Alabama to try to recreate that experience.
I am surprised that noone has mentioned the ice skating rink, and especially the especially unique "Diarama of New York" next door to it. This diarama of the city took up a whole building, and there was a little train that you rode to view it. It took about 5 minutes to go around the scale model of the city. Though it wasn't as "high intensity" as some of the other things at the WF, it was quite unique. I vividly remember walking into the building from the bright afternoon light, into the dimly lit enrtyway, and having to time your steps to make it into your traincar, as the doors opened and closed automatically, each car in sequence. Then as your eyes started to adjust to the darkness, through the window of the little car, all of NYC appeared in front of you, as if you were in an airplane, circling the city at night.
I remember that this exhibit, put up by the city - not a corporate sponsor - was never too crowded. And, it lasted several years after the world's fair was over. I remember going there, in it's waning days, with my mother. I remember feeling sad, knowing that it was the last time I'd be taking this ride.
Other memories of being a kid in flushing? I could write a book, like others who have posted here.
In the summer, being put out of the house in the morning to play with my friends on the block, sandwich for lunch, and told to come back in when the streetlights went on...
Stoop Ball, and Box Ball, the former being played on the steps of the front stoop - a feature of the row houses we lived in, the latter being played on the "boxes" outlined by the sidewalk seams...
"Pensie Pinkies" - the pink rubber balls that we played stoop ball with. they had the Pennsylvania "keystone" insignia on them...
"Wacky Packages" - and the Iron-ons that came with them for a short time. I had one that said "US Necking Team" - I had no idea what that meant... but I never wore that again, once I found out. Gross!
The guy down the block who practiced his golf swing by hitting "wiffle" golf balls into his garage door, always to an appreciative audience of us kids. He was an overweight, balding guy who usually had on an undershirt ("wifebeater" variety) with a pair of nice slacks, and leather shoes - smoking a cigar. Occasionally, he'd practice his swing in his yellow bathrobe. We kids would always vie for the privilege of setting up the balls on the 2 foot square of fake grass he used. He would let one of us do this, but other than that, he never even acknowledged that we were present... other than scolding the "chosen one" if they set up the ball incorrectly, or too slowly...
The free toys the man at the shoe store (Dr. Posner's, in flushing meadows) would give out, like those silly rings that had an image that changed depending on your viewing angle - you know, a boxer throwing a punch, or a clown juggling. But the really cool toy was a tube with a paratrooper in it... you'd blow on the tube to launch the paratrooper, and his plastic 'chute would make him slowly fall to earth. ( not really, he'd fall at about the same rate with or without the parachute) You could never have a toy like that today. The risk would be way too high. (The same reason CrackerJack prizes are now all flat)
The older kids used "tanning mirrors" - a fold out piece of cardboard that had a foil side, and a rounded shape cut out of the bottom, that fit your neck... you'd sit on your stoop, in your webbed chair, holding this to your neck to tan your face quickly...
Sneaking around the back alleys, listening in on the older kids, practicing with their bands in their basements...
The odd audio effect caused by riding your bike down the block, while every radio on every stoop and open window all had the Beatles playing on WABC...
Hearing the grown-ups talking secretively about the neighbor's son who had come back from Viet-Nam hooked on heroin...
Seeing pairs of worn out sneakers dangling from the telephone lines...
Saturday morning cartoons... starting with "Colonel Bleep" which aired right after the station signed on with the "star-spangled banner" at 5:30 am
I could go on...."
From a correspondent:
"I remember the weather vane, it was erected by the Budd Company for the transportation exhibit of the 1939 NYWF. We used to see it until 1962, when the 1964 NYWF was under construction. A worker, who helped construct the 1964 fiar, said it was dubbed "The Needle", and I believe an information booth remained nearby as well."
[Webmaster's note: The 1939 World's Fair weather vane is mentioned by another correspondent, Bob, above.]
From a correspondent, Anthony:
"i've been looking for those trucks the one was called the whip and the other was like the viking ships rides at the caravils.. i think the name was gorila rides or godzilla rides. if anyone knows more about them and or where to find them plz contact me at amore2653@aol.com "
From a correspondent, Sonja:
"Oh my gosh......... I'm sitting here CRYING as I read the pages on your website. I found you by accident but have spent a wonderful afternoon reading about my childhood neighborhoods as if these other folks were all my old friends!I too grew up in Middle Village, Ridgewood, Maspeth...... I attended PS 128 on Juniper Valley Road. The VanIderstine stench is indeed one that is never forgotten. The same holds true for the old Silvercup factory at Queens Plaza - oh the smell of the bread baking in the morning!
I was born in the old Horace Harding Hospital & have always joked with my Mom that I'm as goofy as I am because she spent 2 days looking out the window at Fairyland before she had me!
The Elmwood theater....... White Castle....... the lady who wouldn't sell to the developers.......... Wow! You really took me back today & I'm very grateful.... It was a wonderful trip.
I live in south central Pennsylvania today - only 4 hours from the tunnels to NYC. However, life & business don't always allow for the important trips like this........ I too took my teenage son back 'home' last summer. We did the whole 'tourist' thing & he & I both fell in love with the city all over again..... so much so that I've been thinking of moving back once he moves out on his own. Your website today has done nothing but reinforce all those old feelings..... thank you!"
From a correspondent, Sonia Ortega:
"Thanks for bringing back such wonderful memories of growing up in NY. I was born in the Bronx in '57 and I always tell my kids stories of going to the World's Fair (yes, I remember going), weekend trips to Coney Island, the Good Humor man that pedaled through the neighborhood, and the kiddie rides that came around in the back of a truck.I remember taking turns stealing our mothers' broomsticks so that we could play stickball with those wonderful pink rubber balls in the middle of the street.
But most of all I remember on those hot balmy nights opening the fire hydrants and using cans that had been opened on both ends to make this wonderful humongous spout that even the adults could not resist.
Thanks for the site and the memories."
From a correspondent, Maralyn:
"I remember Fairyland as a really fun place. The old woman who was so stubborn about selling her house was offered $90,000 to move, which, in those day, was a huge amount of money (especially for the type of house she had). SHe held on to it and when she died they bought the land from her relatives. Today, there is a bank on the land.I also remember my father and mother taking me there. We convinced my mother to go on one of the rides, which she hated to do. She screamed and carried on so much they had to stop the ride so she could get off. Talk about embarrassing!
And, don't forget good old Howard Johnsons in Rego Park. That was also, at the time, a great place to eat. I believe that's where the telephone company not sits or the block of the Sizzler.
We also had the Boulevard Night Club. That was a pretty well-known place, as where others in the nighborhood such as Pep McGuires, and Stratton's.
Oh, for the good old days. Times have changed and I, for one, don't believe for for the better."
She adds:
"Does anyone remember getting off the 59th Street bridge and smelling the aromas from the bakery. I think it was the Silver Cup Bakery. It was always so delicious. And, as you traveled up Queens Blvd. in Sunnyside, in the late 70's, you found the first Burger King. Into Elmhurst, you had the wrestling matches/ Elks Club, which had been there probably from the 1940's and , I believe, is now a Korean Church, as is the old Elmhurst Movie Theater.Moving on, you had, at 63rd Drive, every womens' mecca: Alexander's Department Store. I still miss it (even tho it's not gone that long - maybe 10-15 years or so) and the Trylon Movie Theater. Still can't figure out why they closed that one. It was always busy. Many, many years ago, on the north side of the boulevard, at the corner of 67th Avenue, was the old Ham and Eggery. (You have to be really old to remember that one). When you walked in, there were wooden slats on the floor. Now it's a regular coffee shop, which has changed hands many times over. And don't forget Hollywood Bowling Alley. Much fun was had there bowling or just "hanging out".
On Continental Avenue, kids hung out at Addie Vallens, Jahns Ice Cream Parlor, and everyone ate lunch at the Hamburger Train where they had a train going all around the counter. They would put your plate on it and it would stop by your stool when it was ready. But, Austin Street was not like it is today because of the Blue Laws. It was deserted on Sundays.
Right before Continental Avenue is McDonalds Park. I never found out who McDonald is, but we hung out there. One time we even dressed him up. We played Johnny-On-The-Pony, smoked cigarettes when we shouldn't have because we were underage, made out with our boyfriends etc. But, it was all innocent fun."
[Webmaster's note: The historical sign for MacDonald Park is available at the website of the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation. Check it out.]
From a correspondent, J. Gruber, formerly of Maspeth, Queens:
"In regards to the article on Fairyland.... Yes, it was called Fairyland located on Queens Blvd in Elmhurst Queens. There used to be a Howard Johnson's resturant right across the blvd were we used to go for all you can eat Spaghetti dinners for kids then off to Fairyland for some fun kiddie rides! It was a great place. My brothers and I were heart broken when they closed it down to build the Mall.Just my two cents! Thanks for the memories!"
From a correspondent, Barbra A. Halburd:
"Hi myname is Barbra I remember fairyland my father worked there in the summer on the carousel . I remember going to white castle with my parents . My grandmother lived on 59th street in maspeth next to the old canada dry company and hebrew national company .I miss those days of spending the summer at my granmothers house .I went to holy cross school in maspeth and lived on 61st. in the early sixties would love to hear from old school mates I miss those days and think of them often Does any one remember Eddies candy store in maspeth ??"
She adds:
"hi again please add my name to your new york memories site please add if anyone remembers the sprinkler pool that was at the park in maspeth and the bizarre at holy cross school and going to the old maspeth movie. you can use my name for the credits Barbra A Halburd I would love to hear from some one from the old neighborhood I miss those days so much and love your website it really brings back good old memories !!!!!!thanks again Barbra"[Webmaster: Barbra can be contacted at mairead15@aol.com.]
From a correspondent, Harriet Wetherell:
"Does anyone remember the Italian bakery in Corona on 104th st and the phone exchange there was Independence #3. On the corner of Zarcone's Bakery was the Lemon Ice King. Rose Zarcone ran the bakery during the day and Joseph drove the bakery truck through the streets calling out "fresh bread" in Italian. Those helpers on the truck would be my uncles. Rose had a backyard where the youngest of her children would play, the older ones in school in Flushing Meadows. She was one of the first women who worked, raised 18 children and was the neighborhood softie who gave everyone who needed a meal , a piece of the square pizza that all the kids from PS 11 came for. My grandparents moved out to LI to retire but my grandfather had one more business in him and opened another bakery, but only lasted a short time. Grandma died 1974 and grandpa 1979. I lived around the corner in a rented house with my mother Frances and two doors away from the ice/coal man . We left Corona to live on LI in our very first home. I was 12, so unhappy to loose the library, movies and local stores that I called my new home MUDPORT, instead of Bellport, LI. Post Master told my Mom what I wrote on my mail and she took care of it.haha We had rural p.o. when we moved there 1956, and Mom petitioned the neighborhood to get us door to door delivery. She could keep an eye on my mail then. So many Zarcones I wonder if anyone knew the family, the bakery or the area. I have relocated to Plano, Tx but my heart is in NY. E-mail me at Talknharri3@att.net I read and enjoy this site very much."
Please e-mail me at pizzabagel@prodigy.net