Anecdote |
- "When my mother and I moved from a small rural town in Putnam County to New York City in 1944, I was thrust from the 19th into the 20th century.
Both my parents were born in 1886 in Europe; my father came from Italy at 18, and my mother from Balstad in the Lofoten Islands, Norway, when she was 21. She spoke no English but quickly found jobs with well-known American families. They met and were married when they were 27, and within four years they had three sons.
They lived on East 72nd St., in a fourth-floor apartment. My mother was concerned about a growing family and the hazards of the city. The boys were eager to climb on wrought iron fences, with spikes on top and to rush into the street where there were horses and pushcarts.
Mr. Gaydos, who delivered eggs and vegetables told my parents about Patterson, in Putnam County, and how green and safe it was. So my father decided, after one brief visit, that he would be willing to leave the city until the children were grown. My mother agreed..
I am the youngest of three more children, born in the hamlet of Patterson. There most families had ancestors going back to colonial days. When I learned how to walk the few blocks to the post office, it was my job to pick up the mail when the train came in. Our box was number 347, way down near the end, but my friend's box was number 1 and it had always been in her family.
At first, my father, a designer and custom tailor had barely more than three customers; Dr. Genovese, Mr. Hillary, the minister, and Towner Kent, a lawyer who wore three-piece suits. But he made every suit, coat, pair of knickers and leggings worn in our family and mother knit all the sweaters, mittens and scarves. Soon Mrs. Genovese, Hilda Moline, the school teacher and others began to join the well-dressed.
Our lifestyle was incredibly simple. If you were to look today on Orchard Street, you could still find Ballard's pump that supplied from early to mid-century, many families with drinking water that was carried by pail to their kitchens. Milk came from Rutledge's farm and eggs from the neighbors. Wood was sawed and chopped, and my mother and the younger ones often did the kindling. My father rose early every morning to make sure the house was warm and the stove hot when the rest of us got up.
Like all country boys, my brothers liked to explore, and one day they came home with a packet of old letters they had found in a long-empty house. The envelopes and stamps were faded; the letters had been signed by the Secretary of State. They wanted to know what buried treasure they found. My mother, who had before marriage worked for Sara Delano Roosevelt, decided to return to Hyde Park and offer Mrs. Roosevelt the letters. She had been on cordial terms with Mrs. Roosevelt when she left and had received a package each year with things for the children. So, when I was one year old, Mom and I went to Hyde Park for a visit. Unfortunately, Mrs. Roosevelt was busy elsewhere that day and I didn't get to meet her, but she welcomed the letters and said we should stay for tea and a visit
Many of Patterson's fun activities centered around the church, as the Reverend and Mrs Hillary did not have children and they were always thinking of parties and socials, speakers and concerts, as well as pageants and church activities. Nearly everyone went to the church. I was allowed out one evening a week to attend choir practice and afterwards Mr. Hillary would take us for a ride in his car out along Route 22 and give each of us a candy treat. That was a lot of fun!
The Town Hall offered theatricals, dances and variety shows with local talent. I especially remember a minstrel show. At home we gathered around the radio for Jack Benny, the Metropolitan Opera broadcasts and Jessica Dragonette. We liked to pump the player piano and sing" Constantinople" and many other songs, as loud as we could. You might say that the radio was our concession to the 20th century. We never had a phone until we returned to the city.
My bothers Charlie, Bill, and Johnny (often referred to collectively), left home early for jobs, college, the war and their own families. My sister went to college and began to work in the city. My father took a job during World War II at a huge uniform depot in the garment district and came home on weekends.
My mother decided when I completed 10th Grade, that I was a adult and so on my 14th birthday we moved back to the city and left the town that had physically changed so little since the 1800's."
|