By Arlene Correll. 

I was born in Brooklyn, N.Y. and lived there until I was about 9 or 10 years old. Then we moved up to Queens until I was 12 yrs old and after that out onto Long Island until I got married.

When I was about 6 years old, my wonderful grandmother became bedridden. I became her "legs" so to speak. She would write a list of things she needed and give it to me in a little change purse with the money. I would leave the railroad tenement flat we lived in on Kosciusko St. and go up to Broadway and down to Woolworth’s 5 & 10 cents store to get her what she needed. I went all over the place and I can not remember anyone bothering me or accosting me for any reason whatsoever.

World War II had just started and the men were starting to join up and going overseas. Things were still fairly simple. Nothing had come into our neighborhood that seemed dangerous to kids. The little flags with the stars were beginning to appear in all the tenement windows.

I would also go to the butcher shop for her. I remember they had saw dust on the wooden floor and when I would go in, there would be 3 or 4 butchers cutting and weighing meat for the customers. I learned to read quite early because of these lists and I learned to make change very well and very quickly. The butchers would always give kids a free slice of bologna when they came in with their mother or father. They were kind enough to give me a slice also.

There was no refrigeration in those days. The iceman came with his horse and cart and carried up great chunks of ice in ice tongs slung over his shoulder. He wore a leather apron and a burlap sack on his back to catch the drips. We loved it when he came in the summer, because we would be able to catch the flying chips when he chipped away with his ice pick. We then would sit on the curb and suck on these chips to cool off.

I remember it was important to empty the drip pan under the icebox or it would fill up and overflow onto the floor. I can remember, depending on the size of your icebox, you paid either for a 25 cent piece or a 50 cent piece.

Because refrigeration was none existent in our lives at that time, going to the store for food was usually a daily thing. On week days, I did it after school and on weekends, I did it on Saturday. My many cousins were not happy about this "job" as my grandmother usually paid me a nickel to run these errands. Plus she never asked them to go. My grandmother was my mother’s mother and my mother had 2 brothers and 2 sisters, so there were lots of cousins. We live either close by or with my grandmother in those days since my mother and father were always quarreling or my father was away at work either overseas or out of town.

One of my favorite stores was the green grocer. Most every day, except for real cold days, the fruits and vegetables were put outside each morning in lovely displays and usually all the stores had awnings that were rolled down. The owner would come out and help you make your choice. He went and got those fresh vegetables and fruits, very early, most mornings. He gave you a sample. Ask about a melon and he would usually cut it open. Most times he added a small bouquet of parsley for free.

By the time I was 9 years old she would send me farther away for errands and occasionally these had to be made by trolley car or elevator trains which ran overhead on Broadway. I can remember I got so addicted to elevator trains and subways once I discovered I could go all over the place for 5 cents because the transfers were usually free.

In Woolworth’s 5 & 10 cent store there were big cartons that sat inside of square metal frames with glass tops. I think Nabisco and Uneeda Biscuit companies supplied them. One just reached in and filled up a paper sack with fig bars and saltines or whatever she needed. I would buy needles, pins, thread, buttons, sometimes fabric, and whatever else was on her list.

When I was "flush" I could treat myself to a 5 cent ice cream sandwich. There was an ice cream bar in the "five & dime". They would make fresh hot waffles there. They would open a quart block of ice cream and slice off a large chunk about 1 inch thick and put it between two hot waffles. What a treat!

On really special days, I could treat myself to a chicken chow mien special at the same store. They would take a hamburger bun and put a big scoop of chicken chow mien (similar to what Chung King sells in the can today) put on a big handful of chow mien noodles and just hand it to you in a napkin to eat right there. I think that was also 5 cents or the most 10 cents. Once in a while when I really feel a case of nostalgia coming on, I get a can of Chung King and a couple of hamburger rolls and whip us up some good memories.

On the corner of Kosciusko and Broadway was a newspaper and candy store. All kinds of penny candy could be bought there. My grandfather was a "bookie" and he would send me up there for the Daily News and Daily Mirror, plus the race sheet, so he could keep track of what was going on in his world. He usually paid only a penny or two. But that was enough to get a good amount of candy in those days.

Around the corner was a local neighborhood tavern with swinging doors that were open most of the year unless it was very cold. It had wood floors and large glass windows on each side of the swinging doors and a great long, shiny bar with lots of brass on it. These windows had red checkered café curtains on them and often my grandmother would send me up to bring my grandfather home for dinner. This was the same bar that Jackie Gleason fashioned his "Joe" the bartender skit after. Jackie went to school with my mother and her sisters. I do believe my Aunt Helen went out with him once or twice.

In those days one could get a tin can of beer for 10 cents and take it home. It held a quart and had a tin cover with handles on it. There were also bigger tin containers that could be filled up for 25 cents. I can remember when one was sent for the beer, it was called, "Rushing the Growler". I can even remember being sent for it once or twice. Laws were very relaxed in those days.

One of the nice things I liked about going after my grandfather was that there was always a big long table in the tavern and it was loaded with all kinds of cold cuts and breads, condiments, good Jewish Pickles in a barrel and usually good New York potato salads. It was the original, "Free Lunch" and as long as you bought your 5 cent glass of beer you could have all the "free lunch" you could eat.

If my grandfather was in a generous mood, he would treat me to a root beer, and he would have his last glass of beer for the evening. Then I could help myself to the "free lunch" table. It did not seem to matter that is was just before supper or dinner as it never seemed to stifle my appetite for the evening meal.

In good weather, after the evening meal, us kids would go and play in the street. Stick ball, stoop ball, kick the can, pitch pennies, blind man’s bluff, hide and seek, and all sorts of games. Our relatives sat on the stoop and watched us or hung out the parlor windows. Once it got dark you could here all the kids’ mother’s calling them to come in.

In the winter time, we spent time in 10 and 12 cent movies, or the library as it was usually to cold to play outside. There was no television, telephones, or game boys. We learned to play cards real early in life or play checkers. We traded comics like there were no tomorrow. We read them and reread them until they fell apart. We read lots of library books. I can remember my mother yelling at me to get my nose out of a book and do something for her.

When times were lean, my brother and cousins and I would go out and collect newspapers and refundable bottles. We would take the newspapers to the local junk man; return the bottles back to the stores for the 2 and 5 cent deposits. We would do this early Saturday morning and by 11 a.m. we had enough money to usually go to the movies and even treat 3 or 4 cousins.

We stayed in those movies until our mother or my Aunt Helen or Aunt Alberta came looking for us. Saturday matinees consisted of a Pathe’ newsreel, 5 or 6 cartoons, a short, a chapter of whatever local serial was playing, plus a double feature. These ran continuously, unlike today’s movies. So you could just be there forever if you wanted to be. It was warm in there and it was not only a fantasy place, but a learning center. I can remember my cousin Ruth who we all referred to as "Muggsy" looking in the newspaper one time for a movie and told us we should go see one called, "Held Over". That gave my mother and her sisters a big laugh.

I can remember, the same ice man now becoming the coal man. He and his horse would come up the street and he would stop at each tenement and carry up the bags of coal as each apartment had a big coal cook stove in the kitchen. One either put the things that needed to be cold out on the fire escape or in a metal box that was on a shelf outside the kitchen window. Every thing stayed pretty cold out there all winter.

In the good weather, our street was teeming with activity. Men pushed carts and called out to come and have your kitchen knifes and scissors sharpened. Apron clad women would pour out of those tenements. Horse drawn wagons would arrive loaded with fresh fruits and vegetables, stopping every 100 feet or so, so the same apron clad women could take their pick of what they needed. I can even remember the "Hokey Pokey" man with his push cart on hot summer days and evenings. He had blocks of ice that he shaved with a planer and loaded up a big paper cone. Then he would cover the top with your favorite flavor syrup, raspberry, cherry, blueberry, orange or lemon or lime.

These neighborhoods were usually a couple of blocks one way and a couple of block another way. All the Irish in one neighborhood would meet up against the adjacent German neighborhood, which butted up against the Jewish, which butted up against the Italians and so on until the last one butted up against the first one.

It was great when these neighborhoods had block parties. The whole block would set up tables and chairs outside and everyone would bring food and drink and a whole day’s celebration would go on into the evening. In the evening colored lights usually materialized from some place and it street took on a whole air of festivity. There was always music and our parents would dance together on the sidewalks and in the streets as there was very little vehicular traffic in those days.

Then one day my grandmother did not wake up and a whole phase of my life ended and another one began as we moved up to Queens. I miss her still, 61 years later. She had a great impact on my life.

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