THE EARLY FORTIES 

TALCOTT AVENUE

During my early school years, I lived at 90 Talcott Avenue and attended Maple Street School. My school years are highlighted in a separate blog (Maple Street Memories), but when I wasn't in school, activities were centered around where I lived. It was Grandpa's ( A. John Alley) house, a four-family home with a big front porch, a big back yard, a garage and even a chicken coop.

        

90 Talcott Ave. was torn down several years ago. A vacant lot remains.

Grandma and Grandpa lived upstairs. Across the hall were the Uhlmann family. We lived downstairs across the hall from the Giorgi family. Gramps worked as a weaver at Hockanum Mills. My Dad, Luke Alley worked at the United States Envelope Company in the office.

The Giorgi family were good friends. Bill was a Navy veteran of WW-1. His wife Hilda was a war bride from Germany and their daughter Louise was a teen-ager and my baby-sitter. I still have some of the books she gave me as I was growing up. Louise went on to devote her life to teaching and family.

Neighborhoods were close in those days and I remember that our neighbors were all friends. Kerwin and Cora Elliott lived next door with daughters Dorothy and Elsie. Other neighbors included the Pinney's and Percy Baker and Mrs. Sheets.

Talcott Ave. was and is a steep hill. It was a challenge pedaling up on a bicycle during the warm months and a blast going down during the winter. There were very few cars in those war years and none when it snowed so we could safely bring out sleds and skis when the road was covered and slide to the bottom. When we did it right, we could make the turn onto Orchard Street and coast almost to Union Street and when we were going too fast to make the turn we simply piled into a snowbank. I remember ice-skating to Maple Street School one morning after an ice storm and  also doing it on roller skates a few times in warm weather.

I was probably in fourth or fifth grade when we moved to 83 Orchard Street. I made new friends. Tommy Blake, Earl and Alfred Beebe lived down near and at the corner of Orchard and Union Street. We hit baseballs on Orchard Street, stayed cool under the garden hose in Tommy's back yard and ate fruit from a cherry tree and a grapevine in Ozzie Groutner's yard. Mr. Loveland had a small farm bordering the property at 83 Orchard which included a large pear tree right on the line between the two houses. I remember liking green pears, so the ones  on his tree never did get the chance to ripen. I remember Mr. Loveland's horse dying and stinking up the neighborhood.

World war II ended while we lived here. Tommy and I went to the center of town and joined the majority of residents in celebrating the end of the war. There was a huge parade, lots of drinking by just about every adult and for the first time in years, everybody was laughing and smiling. I came home late and my dad didn't even holler at me. He and Mom  had celebrated with neighbors.

During the war, Tommy and I towed our wagons around the neighborhood and collected scrap newspapers, eventually filling our garage. We called Mr. DeCarli and he loaded them on his truck and paid us $14.00, an enormous amount of money at the time for a couple of 11-year-olds.

Towards the end of my seventh grade year, we moved again, this time to 117 East Main Street. Somehow, Mom and Dad worked out a deal so I could remain at Maple Street School through my eighth grade graduation in 1949.

I already liked fishing, so the move to the house across the street from the Paper Mill Pond was as good as it gets. I also made more new friends. Bob Lukeman, Gary Rankin, Bob Hanson, Sam Strait, Rich (Slim) Miner, Milt Schlipack, Tommy(Doc) and Dick Trapp and Mel Malinowski became a major part of growing up. Things move fast in our early teens and we shared everything from football and baseball pickup games to fishing, swimming and ice skating on the pond. Milt Schlipack's lawn was our favorite spot to pick up night crawlers those spring nights. Mel Malinowski's Grandma lived right on the pond and let us fish and swim off her wall. 

Gary's aunt, Ann Marley was part of the famous dance team with her brother Jim. They won the Major Bowles Amateur Hour and toured the country before settling back in Rockville. Ann had a dance studio in the house and offered us kids dance lessons at very reasonable prices. We learned to dance and discovered girls which distracted us from our sports but we enjoyed every minute.

We smoked wherever we could find a place to hide and light up. We made the best slingshots in town, carved from a study branch and propelled by surgical-tube bands, courtesy of Bob Lukeman's Uncle Rich Schortman who worked at Rockville Hospital. We hunted squirrels with those slingshots along with frogs and turtles at the pond. We swam and fished from the riverbank behind Spot Neri's Garage and used his property to cross the bridge to the Island. 

Dave Faye's Tavern was right next to the garage. Dave's wife Alice made the best burgers in town. My dad and his golfing buddy, Fred Kemnitzer often made Dave's place the 19th hole after a day of golf.

Crystal Lake - A great spot to fish and swim

       East Main Street was one of the busier roads in Town and  the main route to Crystal lake.  Bob Hanson, Sam Strait, Bob Lukeman and I all worked tobacco after getting our work papers at age 14. Sometimes a thunder-shower would  halt work and we would get a day off, so the road in front of Gray's house was the best place to thumb a ride to the Lake. In those days, any kid could simply stick out their thumb and one of the towns-people would stop and give them a ride to the Lake On even the hottest days, the air was cooler at Crystal lake and the gin-clear water was a sure trip to cooling off.

All good things have to come to an end. For me, that happened in 1952 when Dad took a job in Westport, CT and we had to move.  It turned out that that part of my life was to be outstanding as well, but at the age of 16, I didn't know what was ahead.

It was a longtime ago, but growing up in Rockville, CT in the 40's was all fun.

Horse With A Buggy Behind

Ray Fitts lived  near the dam off Snipsic Street where the water company tanks are now located. I think we met while fishing, not at the snip, but probably at the "Pape" (Paper Mill Pond), downstream of the dam. I spent most of my waking hours exploring the perimeter of this spot in my early teens, always with a fishing rod.

Ray introduced me to his own prime fishing grounds which consisted of the Snip itself and Ray's secret spot, the Race just below the dam behind the Minterburn Mill. We became friends and it wasn't long until Ray talked me into going horseback riding. He liked horses even more than fishing so one day, we visited a horse livery where we rented horses for the afternoon.
It was located at the intersection of Rte. 83 and --. Today it's one of Vernon's busiest intersections with a Citgo station on one corner where the stable used to be, a gas station across the street, and a Walgreen's on the opposite side of Rte. 83. In those days, the property was miles of fields and bridle trails where we could spend an afternoon riding for a buck or two.

It wasn't long before Ray was back at the stable to pick up Major, a handsome black stallion, which he purchased for $50.00. A neat buggy soon followed and before I knew it we were trotting around the streets of Rockville, which in those days were happily quiet enough to do safely with a fair amount of caution.

Ray was a good friend. He shared his favorite fishing spot at Arushan Rock where we could fill a bucket with yellow perch during the spring spawning run.

Ray's parents owned an operated a General store at UCONN and also had the concession rights for the hot dog stand at the football field, so I was allowed to help out at the stand and watch UCONN football games in those early days. I also remember mucking out Major's stall on a couple of occasions, but all was worth it for the fun of going about town with Ray and his horse with the buggy behind.

I don't remember whether  Ray or I moved away first, but I lost track after I moved to Westport. Ray was a good friend and I tried to find him when I moved back to northern CT, but a recent google revealed that he passed away more than 20 years ago. Thanks for the memories of the days when we were "horsing around" Ray.``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Saturday Matinee's

GROWING UP IN ROCKVILLE

MOVIE TIME!

                I don’t remember my first movie.  I do however remember my first movie theater. It was the old Princess Theater, located on Village Street. The building still stands, only a short distance from Rockville Hospital. It wasn’t big except when it came to boyhood adventures.  

                Once I discovered movies, I became a regular. Saturday matinee at the Princess cost 10 cents. A nickel more would buy a Sugar Daddy, a delicious chunk of caramel on a stick that if opened right after the previews of next week, would last until the end of the feature film of the week.

                At the time I became a confirmed movie-goer, my weekly allowance was either a nickel or a dime. Sometimes Grandma or Gramps would slip me some coins. It was wartime and Mom would save bacon grease, which I took to a little butcher shop on the way to the theater and that would give me enough for the movie and candy.

                The movies were fabulous. Roy Rogers and Hopalong Cassidy, the Cisco Kid, Gene Autry, Red Ryder and Little Beaver, the Lone Ranger and Tonto. They wore the white hats and would triumph over the bad guys every week, never killing anyone, but shooting the bad guys guns from their hands and escorting them off to jail. There was also a weekly serial film to go with the feature and bring us back week after week to see what would happen to the Black Commando, Superman, Batman or the Green Hornet. While western films were the big game for me and my friends, every so often one of the scary movies would come to the Princess. Frankenstein, the Wolf man, the Mummy’s tomb and the Dracula films were tests of courage, especially when the walk home was after dark during the winter months.

                We cheered the guys in the white hats, booed the villains and the occasional previews that told of upcoming feature films about singing and dancing or heaven forbid “love stories”. The Princess Theater was an escape where good always triumphed over evil.

                There were two theaters in town.  The Palace Theater was located on School Street, adjacent to East School and behind the former Rockville High School. It was bigger, had nicer seats and a Saturday matinee at the Palace cost two cents more. I didn’t go there much, but did once work there for a couple of days sweeping floors in exchange for a free movie ticket. It was the favorite theater in town for the adults. I remember it drawing big crowds every night when good movies were playing.  Most of the adults in town attended the Palace.

                Television was the beginning of the end for Rockville’s movie theaters. Gramps was one of Rockville’s first TV owners. I don’t know why. He certainly wasn’t a big money guy, but he sure did fall in love with TV. The set was a 10-inch screen in a big console that also had a record player and an AM/FM radio. We picked up one clear channel from Hartford and when atmospheric conditions were right, we could also view a snowy channel from new Haven. I always got the job of running to the attic, opening the window and rotating the antenna while a relay crew from the rest of the family yelled directions until we achieved the best reception.

                When special programs happened, Gramps living room at 90 Talcott Ave. was a crowded spot.  Some of the early Joe Louis and Willie Pep championship boxing events even brought the Reverend Forrest Musser and family to the house.

                Entertainment was easy growing up in Rockville. We were good at making our own fun, whether it was shooting hoops or playing sand lot baseball and football. Then too there was the Paper Mill Pond, “the Pape” and fishing and that had a major impact on my young life. Another story for another time.

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THE RAINBOW STORE

                                GROWING UP IN ROCKVILLE!

                Hanging out at the Rainbow Store:

                Old time School Street in Rockville was a busy spot in the late 40’s and early 1950’s.  There was the firehouse and offices of the Rockville Journal.  Johnny Gessay owned the Sports Center and a package store, all in the building at the corner of School Street and Union Street. Ed Dymon owned the market and grocery store. The Backofen family had a meat market and in the same building which currently holds a vacant pizza joint, John  Idziak ran the rainbow store.  He sold cigarettes and tobacco, had a neat soda fountain counter and a soda cooler.

                Orange Ball soda sold for a nickel. A generous bag of State Line potato chips was priced the same. At the rear of the store, John had a nickel pinball machine.  John also mixed up a great Cherry Coke at the soda fountain. During the summer when we worked the tobacco fields, we all had money and found out that John could put together a great chocolate malted sundae as well.

                I don’t really know why or how, but somewhere along the line, John picked up the nickname, “Cheap John”.  I think it was maybe because he wouldn’t let us hang out inside the store unless we were eating or drinking or playing the pinball machine.

                Those of us in our early teens, adopted the place as a spot to meet, talk, sneak cigarettes  and figure out what life was all about. Bob Hanson and I were regulars. Tommy Trapp, Milton Schlipack, Eddie Oller, Bob Lukeman, Bob Rankin and Tommy Pleasa, would show up, at the store for a soda, chips, candy or ice cream. Those of us who smoked would light up. Sometimes we’d pool our money for a pack of Lucky Strikes, Camels or Old Gold’s.

                Cheap John was always friendly. When there was a big crew, we would all gather at the back of the store by the pinball machine where someone would raise the front legs of the machine onto their toes, put in a nickel and proceed to rack up a bunch of free games in a hurry. Then we would set the machine back down and take turns playing until the games were gone.

                Cheap John must have known, but the one or two times he caught us doing it, he simply kicked us out of the store for a time and a few nights later we would be back doing it again. He did get upset when we hung around outside the store.

                I only remember John calling the police on one occasion. We were standing around outside the store talking and one of the older kids from a different neighborhood showed up in a car with his girlfriend.  I remember he was a bad apple and none of us liked him much and John didn’t like him on sight. We hadn’t been talking long when John came outside and told us all that there would be no hanging around in front of the door. The kid with the car gave him some backtalk and John went back inside. A short time later a police car showed up and the cop told us to clear out. That was the end of the incident.

                That’s the only time I remember John being disagreeable. He had to be a really nice guy just to put up with us. 

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PICTURE FROM THE PAST!

1. 

L-R: Mel Malinowski - Christine - Marcia - Dick - taken 1948 at Mel's Grandma's house on the Paper Mill Pond in Rockville.

The internet can be bad or good. I hit the good side when I was viewing an email one day and spotted Mel Malinowski's name among the address list of recipients. Memories came flooding back of summer days when we dove from his Grandma's wall in the heat of day and fished from it evenings. I copied the address and quickly sent a note to Mel asking if he was the same Mel that spent summers visiting his Grandma in Rockville.

I received a return mail with this photo of four of us neighborhood kids enjoying a swim back in 1948.

Mel lives in Florida and though we haven't seen each other since the summer this photo was shot, we still exchange emails frequently. While there is a great amount of controversy regarding the bad side of the internet, I doubt that Mel and I would have ever had another conversation if not for the computer.

Dick - Marcia - Bob

A few months ago another old high school buddy, Bob Lukeman from the East Main Street crew, traveled from his Texas home and we got together at Marcia's Restaurant (Chick's) on Rte. 83 in Rockville.
DWA

MAPLE STREET MEMORIES

MAPLE STREET MEMORIES

By Dick Alley

The year was 1946. Our sixth grade class at Maple Street School, lined up for the annual class photo with our teacher Miss Katherine Grady.  World War II had ended, baseball season was about to begin and the world was full of hope and promise for our futures.

CLASS OF 46

SIXTH GRADE – MAPLE STREET SCHOOL

TOP ROW – L-R: Fremont Wilson, Dick Alley, Carl ?, Johnny Erismann, Ronald M., George S., Ray Zira, Stanley Pliska, Ronald Wendus, Wesley Lanz, Walter Darcey.

MIDDLE ROW L-R: Johnny Marszalek, Cary Cook, Nancy ?, Beverly Jacobs, Kathryn Grady, Marie Schneider, Roxy Markham, George Apel, Dwight Lyman.

FRONT ROW L-R: Lorraine Leutjen, Carole Weber, Diane Dubek, Carol Abrahamson, Shirley Hemman, Myrtle Maynard, Helen Seiber, Shirley W., Joan Taft, Dotty Chapman, Bertha Farr.

When my bride found this photo in a box in the basement. It had been there since we moved to Manchester in 2000. I recognized most of the faces at first glance even after 65 years. The memories that accompanied the photo were even more remarkable, considering that those classmates still with us are now in their mid-70’s.

                My   memories of Maple Street School go back to first grade where this class started in 1941. Miss Hendricks was our teacher . We learned how to read, about colors primary and secondary. We read basic words and suddenly a year had passed and we were ready for Miss Flynn and second grade. That’s when I discovered that I liked to read. I wasn’t alone. One day, Miss Flynn escorted Carole Weber and me  down the hall to Miss Hattie R. M. Burr’s,  fourth grade class where we were asked to read some pages from a fourth grade  book. After that, reading and spelling became my favorite subjects.

In third grade, the war was brought home when Adeline Leocher,  our teacher failed to report for class one day. Our principal. Raymond Ramsdell, filled in, explaining that Miss Leocher’s fiancee was missing in action when his plane was shot down---and she wouldn’t be in for a few days. I remember learning to knit scarves and mittens for the soldiers. Every spring during the war years, we brought home boxes of seeds and planted our Victory gardens. During the war years everything was rationed, so treats like butter, sugar and coffee were a rarity. Gas was rationed too. My Dad didn’t get his first car until 1950. Everybody helped the war effort. We had books of stamps that when filled would convert to a war bond. Total cost was $18.75 and when the bonds matured they were worth $25.00.

                Mr. Ramsdell was old school. He believed in corporal punishment in those days and flagrant acts of misbehavior would mean a trip to his office.  Minor offenses were handled by individual teachers. Miss Hattie R.M. Burr, our fourth grade teacher  rarely administered a spanking or two, but most of the teachers  passed along disciplinary problems to Mr. Ramsdell. I only made the trip to his office a time or two and most of the kids never experienced a couple of whacks on the backside with a yardstick for minor offenses, or more painful slaps on the hand with a ruler for worse offenses. That said, Mr Ramsdell was much gentler than our own parents when they found out we had been in trouble. As for Mr. Ramsdell, he went on to become Superintendent of Schools and enjoyed an excellent career in education.  Everybody liked Mr. Ramsdell. Those of us who were disciplined derserved it. Besides being principal, He also coached our basketball and baseball teams for our cross-town rivalries with the kids at East School. His son Gary was  a friend.  Discipline was simply a way of life at the time, something that today’s society might not understand let alone accept.

                Moving up to fourth grade was a real adventure. Hattie R.M. Burr was a legend. She had also taught my Dad and often reminded me of that fact when my attention wavered. I remember that she would not allow left-handed students in her class. If you wrote with your left hand at the beginning of the school year, you learned to do it with your right hand by year’s end. The only thing that saved me was my spelling and reading abilities. Miss Burr always appeared stern and unsmiling until the following summer when a couple of friends and I took a bike ride to Ellington. Miss Burr and her sister owned a big old house there and when we rode by, they were sitting on the porch. We waved and  she beckoned us to come sit a while. My friends and I were treated to cookies and lemonade and a nice visit with this kindly old lady who we had previously only known as a teacher who ruled us with an iron hand.

                In fifth grade, Caroline Foster was our teacher.  She ran the school play and was an outstanding artist. The highlight for every one of her classes at Christmas time was a colored chalk sketch of Santa Claus that she drew on the blackboard in her room every Christmas season.

                Kathryn Grady taught sixth grade through part of the year, but she must have left, because that was the year Arthur Mattson arrived and took over sixth grade. He went on to take over as principal when Mr. Ramsdell was promoted. He was the first male teacher I ever had. He also pitched in with the coaching chores making him really popular among the boys.

                Our seventh grade tacher was Mrs. McQuone and I best remember her always being happy and smiling. She even disciplined us with a smile. One day she caught me chewing gum and made me wear it on the end of my nose for a while. It worked. I never chewed gum in class again.

In eighth grade, Mrs. Foster was either promoted or punished but she was once again our teacher. I don’t remember anyone complaining. One of the highlights of that class was Gilbert & Sullivan’s “The Mikado”. Lots of the kids were involved. I earned the part of  Pooh-Bah – Lord High Everything Else. It was a fun time. Miss Lewis was the music teacher and the play was staged at Rockville High School.

                   Maple Street School recess meant  a wide range of playground games in the  second grade when we sang songs and played London Bridges. Wesley Lanz, Stanley Pliska and  I all made the basketball team in fifth grade. Mr. Ramsdell was the coach. Sports were big. Mr. Mattson helped coach baseball.  During recess, we had occasional fist fights, told jokes, played mumbledy-peg with our jack-knives and had snowball fights in the winter.  Teachers always had playground duty, breaking up arguments and skirmishes, referreeing games and teaching us social responsibilities along with what we learned in the classroom.

                Things were much different then. I remember when my Uncle Jake returned from the war in the Pacific with a souvenier Japanese rifle.  I proudly took it to school one day to show the class and tell the story behind it. Imagine bringing a gun to school today.

                School was a great place, in class and on the playground.  One of my best friends was Fremont   Wilson. He’s standing next to me in the class photo. Fremont joined us in fifth or sixth grade. He was a little guy, pale with deep circles under his eyes. One arm was partially handicapped. He was also very smart, shy and friendly.  He and I hit it off right away.  Some kids were mean in those days  and I did jump in a couple of times when kids tried to pick on him. I never thought much about it until my Mom came home from Parents night and told me how he had made a little speech and thanked me in front of all the parents for being his friend. 

                Wesley Lanz was my friend for  as long as I can remember.  We played games after school, exploring the woods  between Talcott Avenue where I lived and Davis Avenue where he lived. His Dad worked for the railroad. I remember that his birthday was always close to Memorial day and his party would usually be held at Crystal lake where we would get in the first swim of the year. I moved from Rockville in 1952 and was shocked a few years later when I learned that Wes had been killed in a crash while piloting his fighter plane for the National Guard. I wrote to his family at the time, recalling the hours we spent as kids talking about flying, counting squadrons of fighter planes flying overhead and talking about the war.

                Walter Dorcey was another good friend. He lived at the corner of Union and Orchard Streets. I remember my Dad telling me that Walt’s father Tom Dorcey was a really good boxer when he was young. Walter had a brother who was a State Trooper. 

Raymond Zira and Stanley Pliska were the best athletes of their time at Maple Street School. Ray played baseball for the MSS team and was the best  home run hitter I can remember. He put the ball over the fence at the old Rec Field in the center of town on several occasions . Stanley was a basketball player. He was good at MSS but really took off at Rockville High School. I recall him scoring 31 points one night. Ray, Stan and I also shared a love for fishing.  They gave me my first fly-tying lesson in seventh grade

Ronnie Wendus loved baseball too. I remember one year when his Dad took him to the World Series. Johnny Marszalek was also a friend, even though he dinged me with a rock on the school grounds one day after school was over. He was the first kid in class to have a ball-point pen and I recall that the teacher wouldn’t let him use it to write his papers. He was all upset because he could write much faster with the ball point than a fountain pen. Problem was, nobody could read his writing. Johnny lived on Union Street only a few doors from the school.

George Apel lived near me at the corner of Woodland and Prospect Streets. I remember that his grandfather was a fisherman and one day he called me down to the house where his Grandpa had a tub full of flatfish. They must have been fluke because they were really big. Dwight Lyman was a farmer and loved farming. He was also a really nice kid. I can’t forget Cary Cook. Cary’s parents were carnival folks, so he spent much of every winter in Florida and came north in the spring.

All of the girls in the class were pretty. I was just beginning to notice that fact  in the sixth grade. My first crush was Lorraine Leutjen. I don’t remember what grade it was, but we met at the Princess Theater for the Saturday matinee. I sat down next to her. The lights dimmed. I held her hand and felt a tap on my shoulder. Her father was sitting behind us. 

Roxanna Markham lived a couple of blocks from the school. She had a pet racoon. She and Beverly Jacobs were tall, but Marie Schneider was taller. Marie was the tallest girl in class and excelled in sports. Marie’s father owned a dairy farm on Ellington Avenue. The Hockanum River flowed through his property and he would let the kids go through the property on hot summer days to a spot in the fields where the river widened and the water deepened and a section of the bank was perfect so we could run and dive. The deal was that we wouldn’t disturb the cows and we never did.

Carole Weber and Carol Abrahamson were very popular. Diane Dubek and I both moved to the other end of town in eighth grade and so rode the bus lines to and from school every day.  Our parents persuaded the authorities to let us finish elementary school at Maple Street. Shirley Hemmann and I were second or third cousins. She lived on Woodland Street and I seem to remember that she narrowly escaped either the Hartford Circus fire or the time that an air-liner crashed the Empire State Building in thick fog. Joan Taft, Dorothy Chapman and Bertha Farr were also friends.

In 1949 we moved to the east end of Town. Then in 1952, my Dad changed jobs and we moved to Westport, CT.  Though we made many family visits to Rockville and Manchester over the ensuing years,  my adult life until retirement was spent in Westport.

I still have good memories of the high school years both at Rockville High and at Staples High School in Westport, but  Maple Street memories top the list.

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