The Most Wonderful Time

Spencerport and the Town of Ogden provided me with a fantastic natural education.  I learned how to repair bicycles from Flut Thousand on the front steps of the Upton Hotel before is was torn down.  I examined marine biology (the natural spongia officinalis - bath sponge) in the front window of the Turk's.  And of course the most famous Spencerport Turkish residents, the brothers Jim and Chris Matheos.  They went from a small storefront (below 1926) to a large factory serving most of Western New York.  Their Velvet ice cream was every bit as good as Ben & Jerry’s or Häagen-Dazs.

  





I spent some especially tasty times both here and up at their new place at 377 South Union.  I'll never forget their maple-walnut ice cream or the crock pot full of hot fudge sauce.

But after a few years I’d about seen it all in our village;  the canal traffic, the steam locomotives and depot on Martha Street.  The agents at Railway Express showed me how the telegraph key worked and let me help them tie up the mail bag for the eastbound train.  I was shocked to watch the citizenry steal coal and Sunsweet prune juice from the box cars that toppled over one night in '50 or '51.  I’d “helped” the men at Rowley Chevrolet, Wise and Phillips Chrysler, Purshing’s, Van Nest Gulf, and spent way too much time with Al Bauer at his Mobil station.  Time to expand my horizons.

Before I began hitch hiking, riding the Greyhound or getting my driver’s license, I was introduced to Rochester by my parents.  Dad had “privileges” at Rochester General Hospital and drove there often depending on his patient load.  It was around a 30 minute ride up Lyell to Howard, Howard over to Buffalo Road, past the canal, under the railroad and past the roundhouse and left on West Avenue.  Once past Bulls Head (there was actually a cement bull’s head on an apartment at Main Street and Brown) we’d turn onto Reynolds and park in the doctors’ parking lot at the corner of Troup Street. The General was an old (1864) U-shaped hospital facing Main with a quiet, shady front yard, giant maples, and hundreds of squirrels.  We’d enter from the west side.  At the first intersection of the hallway was the laboratory to the left. Then, on the right side was (IMHO) the most important room; the snack bar (candy, tobacco, ice cream, sodas, magazines, gifts, etc.  Here is where I spent most of my time while Dad made his rounds.  The proprietor was a middle-age man named Marvin.  Marvin always wore a tan work jacket.  He was blind.  I watched and learned from him for hours and hours.  I don’t know how he did it but he seemed to know a Washington from a Lincoln.  And regardless of the request, he know exactly where everything was without any hesitation, a Coke from an Orange Crush, Beechnut peppermint gum from Juicy Fruit.  He definitely was NOT disabled!  Down the hall a bit further was the main intersection.  To the left was the front door to the lovely yard and Main Street.  To the right was the back hall to Troup Street.  On the SW corner was the doctors’ library (lots of tables, chairs, and pictures of naked ladies with nasty sores).  On the SE corner was a marvel of technology for the '40s.  The main room was the Records Room.  But at the front of the Records Room was a small alcove with a time clock and lots of cards for doctors and other staff to punch in and out.  The really amazing detail for me (3-6 years old) was the overhead light.  It was controlled by a switch under the floor mat.  Whenever you stepped on the rubber mat, the light went on.  After you clocked in and went on your way, the light went out.  I must have stepped on and off that mat a thousand times!

 

Come December, my chauffer was Mom.  And our destination was the 4^th floor of Sibley, Lindsey and Curr (Sibley’s) Department Store at Main and Clinton.  The windows along Main and along Clinton were decorated with scenes and some animation for Christmas.  The Salvation Army was in full swing at the doorways.  The main floor was a marvel of huge red ribbons and holiday decorations.  It seemed like everybody in the whole world was there.  Then up we went.  They had a bank of 4-6 elevators but kids prefer escalators.  So up and up we went.  We went through Glassware and Furnishings.  Then we arrived at Christmas Wonderland.  And a wonderland it was!  We entered a dark tunnel.  On both sides were little lit rooms of miniature elves and animals all pounding away and jumping up and down, preparing toys and other Christmassy things.  Window after window.  Magical.  Nothing like this at Salitan’s Dry Goods in Spencerport!  And then,  after exiting the tunnel and turning to the left, The North Pole with the man himself, Santa Claus!                                   

Sibley's Santa

IMO the guys at McCurdy’s Department Store or Edwards' were dressed up as Santa.  But the guy on the throne on Sibley’s 4^th Floor?  He was Santa!

As the years went by, I may have had a change of heart regarding Santa’s creds.  But Rochester had years and years of lessons to be absorbed.  I could go on and on (and just might) about places like Front Street and Beansy’s …. Sam and Sadie's deli on Chestnut Street behind The National … the trolley below the Broad Street bridge (I rode it on it’s final year from Lyell and Broad to Pittsford!).  The  RKO Palace.  The Capital.  Scrantom’s. Leves Music Store,  The Eastman, The Manhattan. Rundel Memorial.  The Towpath Bar.  The Maplewood Y.  The wings above the Times Square Building.  A major railroad terminal with all the trimmings and a minor Greyhound terminal with no trimmings!  Tahou’s.  The Pythodd.  

Later on, the suburbs.  The P.I.,  Varsity Inn,  GPI, etc etc etc.  And eventually, the castle-like Federal Building on Fitzhugh Street. That’s where I picked up a bus ticket to Buffalo and a train ticket to Chicago to “visit” the Great Lakes Naval Training Center on Tuesday, July 14, 1959. Thursday evening I laid in a barracks bunk, and while listening to a scratchy record of "Taps", I wondered  ----- "What in God's name have I done now?"  [See: Four Years Before the Mast]