Cazenovia in the fifties and sixties was a wonderland for kids. Its rich environment surely made it one of the best places in the country to spend your childhood.
To begin with the terrain was interesting. There are very few flat, boring areas in Caz. Nearly every street is situated on an incline. A cyclist or pedestrian always had a mini view to enjoy, a hill to climb or a place to just let your bicycle coast downhill.
There is the creek running through town that supplied power for the mills of early settlers. The creek banks were special places often lined with old men fishing. This landscape has changed little since the fifties.
There is much that has changed however. There was a train traveling through once or twice a day back then. It was a great tool for flattening pennies. The first time a kid showed me a pancaked piece of copper I thought he was pulling my leg. Nothing could do that to the currency of the United States of America! He gave me a demonstration and sure enough those many tons of train easily crushed that little piece of metal.
The train went through just as we Burton Street School kids were walking home from school. The trains were usually not that long, often just 10 to 20 cars. As the caboose rolled through it almost became a duty for many children to wave to the conductor. I recall the first time I did this. It was a thrill to have an adult wave back to me- almost as an equal. These conductors were important people to us. They appeared for a minute as the train went through and then were quickly gone waving away as they went down the tracks. We felt a special kinship to these mysterious men we would never know, never talk to.
Each downtown shop had its own character and characters.
Aikman’s Hardware was situated in the center of the northern block of conjoined buildings. It had a pale yellow ornate front with lots of windows. In the center at the back end of the store was a grand staircase to the second floor where they sold toys. At the base of this stairway was a little shop within the shop.
This was Munger’s Clock and Watch Repair. Mr. Munger was a tiny, stooped red faced man who walked with small, shuffling steps. As we kids walked by he was usually bent over a pocket watch with a magnifying eyepiece strapped to his head. He always walked to work and he worked into his eighties. It must have taken him an hour to walk the three hundred yards from his home to the shop with his peculiar gait.
The men working the hardware floor wore tan shirts with the word Aikman’s embroidered on them. Art Evans was senior among these knowledgeable men. Many of the arcane hand tools on display then will not be seen on today’s big box shelves and Art knew about them all. Art was a tall, thin man with upright posture and character. He had a booming, authoritative voice and was the local Boy Scout leader. A fine man.
Just after Thanksgiving each year Aikman’s would rope off the base of the stairway to the second story toy section for a few days.
When the rope finally came down word soon got around and we kids joyously ascended the grand staircase to see Cazenovia’s version of Macy’s. Aikman’s went all out to delight the local children with its Christmas display. There was tinsel and colorful lights everywhere. There was Christmas music and Santa showed up too. The centerpiece was a huge model train setup. It was a joy to behold for every boy in town. The craftsmanship was excellent. Everywhere you turned was a special new toy. There were the latest dolls for the girls and shiny pistols for the boys. It was one the year’s highlights.
Down the street a bit west of Aikman’s was the restaurant of Greek immigrant Johnny Christakos. Johnny and his wife spoke with thick accents. Short people. Hardworking people. They both had very round faces with squinty, almost oriental eyes. They also had hearts of gold.
Every Sunday throngs of people would go to Johnny’s coffee shop after church. Huge crowds also headed to Albert’s Bar across the street after every Saturday afternoon home football game. These were great meeting places, everybody knew everybody and there was much laughter.
One hot summer day my father parked downtown and we got out and headed to Johnny’s place. I had just turned four. On our way we encountered actor Basil Rathbone. He was staying at the Lincklaen House. He was in town because Fayetteville had summer theater and quite often movie stars went there to stay sharp. Basil was wearing Bermuda shorts with knee socks. My father said I pointed at him and innocently said something like ”That man has funny knees”. My father said Basil was not amused. So I pissed off Sherlock Holmes. It is surely one of the great achievements of my life.
At the east side of the north block was Mulligan’s Imported Woolens. Mulligan’s had a high stamped tin ceiling and shelf after shelf of fine sweaters and scarves. Ed Daley worked there for years. It is still going. The place has not changed much in over a hundred years.
The bookstore at the end of the street was run by two elderly church going women. Great Gals. Always helping out old Father Lynch up at St. James. As you entered they welcomed you immediately and asked if they could help. They meant well but you really didn’t feel that comfortable just browsing. There were a lot of religious books and items.
These ladies found out that I had chosen the name Martin as my confirmation name based on Blessed Martin de Porres. He was from South America. So anyway they went about finding a sacred item for me. A gift. One day I walked in and they gave me a cloth that had touched the coffin of Blessed Martin! It was framed in heavy blue paper. I kept it for many years. God knows where it is now.
Around the corner was a very small shoe repair shop run by a kindly old Italian immigrant…Mr. Barilla. He barely spoke English. His shop and tools would have fit in perfectly with a 19th century Sicilian village. Another little place that made Caz colorful.
Across the street from Aikman’s was the Golden Pheasant Restaurant.. It was a very upscale place. As you walked in there was a large mural covering the wall on the left. Its subject was Route 20 and the Cherry Valley Turnpike. Drawings depicted historical events and some terrain. Cooperstown was emphasized. I recall the Loomis Gang was also highlighted. Cloth napkins and fine décor .
One day Steve McCall and I were wandering around town. We were seven or eight years old and we were hungry. We spotted the Golden Pheasant and headed on in. We sat down and spread our change on the table and counted. It was all we had. Then we looked at the menu. Holy Cow! The hamburgers were like $5! We finally asked for peanut and jelly sandwiches–not sure if they were on the menu. Looking back now I am sure the waitresses thought that we were the cutest things they saw all week. You know- a couple of little kids walking into this upscale place counting their pennies. They were real nice to us. As I recall we came up a little short and they said there was a special on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that day and we were OK.
The Golden Pheasant had a huge neon sign out front as did many of these businesses in the fifties. These were zoned out 10-15 years later as being too modern and too garish and ugly. Ironically many people now would consider them quaint.
The Rexall Drug Store was small by today’s standards but packed with a lot of stuff. There was a large magazine display inside the front door to the left. Magazines were a more important part of life before the internet. Occasionally a gruff old fellow would wander up front and remind us kids that this place wasn’t a library. Good thing because we often forgot where we were. They had a flat round chocolate bar there with large chunks of malt imbedded in it at the candy section. Malt chunks….pretty close to Heaven.
Going east was Talbot’s Five and Dime store. We boys would always head to the back left corner where the novelty toys were. You could buy baseball cards and 45 records there too.
Then down the way a bit there was McLaughlin’s Clothing Store. Mr. McLaughlin ran an attractive store. He was a slender, quiet, well dressed man with a slight stoop. With our weather he wore long overcoats with the collar up a lot. He also tended to walk in short, choppy steps. He was aptly nicknamed Count Macula by the great Riedl brothers.
Another Greek, Pete Togias ran a popular place next to McLaughlins for a few years. A very popular place. The diner's booths were places for lively conversation and hearty laughter. When Pete decided to retire to Arizona the town gave him a rousing going away party.
Across the street from Pete’s place was The Wagon Wheel a soda shop and the perfect teenage hangout. Wrought iron chairs and granite table tops...picture please...A perfect sunny autumn day. Sitting in front of the large front window. Leaves blowing around outside. A hot fudge sundae on the table in front of you. The Beatles or the Stones or Motown playing on the jukebox. Talking with your friends about the always excellent Caz football team. A beautiful girl sitting at the counter. We were rich. Life was fine.
To the east and down the hill near the railroad tracks sat Buyeas’s Quonset hut. It was a superstore before the word was invented. Irv, the genial owner, and the attentive Edna were always there… helping Caz folks find the right boot or coat or sump pump. There was even a rack with mildly steamy discounted paperbacks. The covers were torn off, of course.
Googin’s movie theater showed gritty black and white British films with lots of masonry as a background for the drama. Little brick walls on the screen everywhere.
The people who ran the stores (except maybe the Western Auto) in Cazenovia were genuinely warm folks who cared a lot about the village and its children. Each store and shop had its own distinct personality. Shopping Malls were just getting started around the country but Caz remained much the same as it had been.
Cazenovia also had two train trestles to cautiously cross, a library with a mummy and stuffed birds situated up another grand staircase and a park with a masonry pier extending into the four mile long lake. Not far from the lake is Carpenter's pond. It is just loaded with frogs. It is also a good place to skate.
Yeah we watched too much TV on our little black and white sets but we spent most of our time outdoors exploring, playing and enjoying our neighbors.
In many ways our childhoods were not much different than those from fifty or more years before. Take Depot Hill. It is on Williams Street. It was a fairly short hill in the middle of a neighborhood with the train tracks at its base. Not real long but it was pretty good for sliding down in winter. Many, many sleds went down that hill over the years. As far as I know only one fellow was struck by a car. His last name was Friend and he walked with a limp afterwards.
The neighborhood kids also managed to turn that hill into a baseball diamond and a football field on occasion.
Anyway, I am sure that kids were sliding down Depot hill at the turn of the century and into the twenties and thirties and that they did so in nearly the same way that we did. It was the same situation only back then there were people in Model Ts slowly driving by.
It was all a little bit like a Capra movie, like “It’s a Wonderful Life” and, for a while, it was.
©2015 by John P. Kennedy
To begin with the terrain was interesting. There are very few flat, boring areas in Caz. Nearly every street is situated on an incline. A cyclist or pedestrian always had a mini view to enjoy, a hill to climb or a place to just let your bicycle coast downhill.
There is the creek running through town that supplied power for the mills of early settlers. The creek banks were special places often lined with old men fishing. This landscape has changed little since the fifties.
There is much that has changed however. There was a train traveling through once or twice a day back then. It was a great tool for flattening pennies. The first time a kid showed me a pancaked piece of copper I thought he was pulling my leg. Nothing could do that to the currency of the United States of America! He gave me a demonstration and sure enough those many tons of train easily crushed that little piece of metal.
The train went through just as we Burton Street School kids were walking home from school. The trains were usually not that long, often just 10 to 20 cars. As the caboose rolled through it almost became a duty for many children to wave to the conductor. I recall the first time I did this. It was a thrill to have an adult wave back to me- almost as an equal. These conductors were important people to us. They appeared for a minute as the train went through and then were quickly gone waving away as they went down the tracks. We felt a special kinship to these mysterious men we would never know, never talk to.
Each downtown shop had its own character and characters.
Aikman’s Hardware was situated in the center of the northern block of conjoined buildings. It had a pale yellow ornate front with lots of windows. In the center at the back end of the store was a grand staircase to the second floor where they sold toys. At the base of this stairway was a little shop within the shop.
This was Munger’s Clock and Watch Repair. Mr. Munger was a tiny, stooped red faced man who walked with small, shuffling steps. As we kids walked by he was usually bent over a pocket watch with a magnifying eyepiece strapped to his head. He always walked to work and he worked into his eighties. It must have taken him an hour to walk the three hundred yards from his home to the shop with his peculiar gait.
The men working the hardware floor wore tan shirts with the word Aikman’s embroidered on them. Art Evans was senior among these knowledgeable men. Many of the arcane hand tools on display then will not be seen on today’s big box shelves and Art knew about them all. Art was a tall, thin man with upright posture and character. He had a booming, authoritative voice and was the local Boy Scout leader. A fine man.
Just after Thanksgiving each year Aikman’s would rope off the base of the stairway to the second story toy section for a few days.
When the rope finally came down word soon got around and we kids joyously ascended the grand staircase to see Cazenovia’s version of Macy’s. Aikman’s went all out to delight the local children with its Christmas display. There was tinsel and colorful lights everywhere. There was Christmas music and Santa showed up too. The centerpiece was a huge model train setup. It was a joy to behold for every boy in town. The craftsmanship was excellent. Everywhere you turned was a special new toy. There were the latest dolls for the girls and shiny pistols for the boys. It was one the year’s highlights.
Down the street a bit west of Aikman’s was the restaurant of Greek immigrant Johnny Christakos. Johnny and his wife spoke with thick accents. Short people. Hardworking people. They both had very round faces with squinty, almost oriental eyes. They also had hearts of gold.
Every Sunday throngs of people would go to Johnny’s coffee shop after church. Huge crowds also headed to Albert’s Bar across the street after every Saturday afternoon home football game. These were great meeting places, everybody knew everybody and there was much laughter.
One hot summer day my father parked downtown and we got out and headed to Johnny’s place. I had just turned four. On our way we encountered actor Basil Rathbone. He was staying at the Lincklaen House. He was in town because Fayetteville had summer theater and quite often movie stars went there to stay sharp. Basil was wearing Bermuda shorts with knee socks. My father said I pointed at him and innocently said something like ”That man has funny knees”. My father said Basil was not amused. So I pissed off Sherlock Holmes. It is surely one of the great achievements of my life.
At the east side of the north block was Mulligan’s Imported Woolens. Mulligan’s had a high stamped tin ceiling and shelf after shelf of fine sweaters and scarves. Ed Daley worked there for years. It is still going. The place has not changed much in over a hundred years.
The bookstore at the end of the street was run by two elderly church going women. Great Gals. Always helping out old Father Lynch up at St. James. As you entered they welcomed you immediately and asked if they could help. They meant well but you really didn’t feel that comfortable just browsing. There were a lot of religious books and items.
These ladies found out that I had chosen the name Martin as my confirmation name based on Blessed Martin de Porres. He was from South America. So anyway they went about finding a sacred item for me. A gift. One day I walked in and they gave me a cloth that had touched the coffin of Blessed Martin! It was framed in heavy blue paper. I kept it for many years. God knows where it is now.
Around the corner was a very small shoe repair shop run by a kindly old Italian immigrant…Mr. Barilla. He barely spoke English. His shop and tools would have fit in perfectly with a 19th century Sicilian village. Another little place that made Caz colorful.
Across the street from Aikman’s was the Golden Pheasant Restaurant.. It was a very upscale place. As you walked in there was a large mural covering the wall on the left. Its subject was Route 20 and the Cherry Valley Turnpike. Drawings depicted historical events and some terrain. Cooperstown was emphasized. I recall the Loomis Gang was also highlighted. Cloth napkins and fine décor .
One day Steve McCall and I were wandering around town. We were seven or eight years old and we were hungry. We spotted the Golden Pheasant and headed on in. We sat down and spread our change on the table and counted. It was all we had. Then we looked at the menu. Holy Cow! The hamburgers were like $5! We finally asked for peanut and jelly sandwiches–not sure if they were on the menu. Looking back now I am sure the waitresses thought that we were the cutest things they saw all week. You know- a couple of little kids walking into this upscale place counting their pennies. They were real nice to us. As I recall we came up a little short and they said there was a special on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that day and we were OK.
The Golden Pheasant had a huge neon sign out front as did many of these businesses in the fifties. These were zoned out 10-15 years later as being too modern and too garish and ugly. Ironically many people now would consider them quaint.
The Rexall Drug Store was small by today’s standards but packed with a lot of stuff. There was a large magazine display inside the front door to the left. Magazines were a more important part of life before the internet. Occasionally a gruff old fellow would wander up front and remind us kids that this place wasn’t a library. Good thing because we often forgot where we were. They had a flat round chocolate bar there with large chunks of malt imbedded in it at the candy section. Malt chunks….pretty close to Heaven.
Going east was Talbot’s Five and Dime store. We boys would always head to the back left corner where the novelty toys were. You could buy baseball cards and 45 records there too.
Then down the way a bit there was McLaughlin’s Clothing Store. Mr. McLaughlin ran an attractive store. He was a slender, quiet, well dressed man with a slight stoop. With our weather he wore long overcoats with the collar up a lot. He also tended to walk in short, choppy steps. He was aptly nicknamed Count Macula by the great Riedl brothers.
Another Greek, Pete Togias ran a popular place next to McLaughlins for a few years. A very popular place. The diner's booths were places for lively conversation and hearty laughter. When Pete decided to retire to Arizona the town gave him a rousing going away party.
Across the street from Pete’s place was The Wagon Wheel a soda shop and the perfect teenage hangout. Wrought iron chairs and granite table tops...picture please...A perfect sunny autumn day. Sitting in front of the large front window. Leaves blowing around outside. A hot fudge sundae on the table in front of you. The Beatles or the Stones or Motown playing on the jukebox. Talking with your friends about the always excellent Caz football team. A beautiful girl sitting at the counter. We were rich. Life was fine.
To the east and down the hill near the railroad tracks sat Buyeas’s Quonset hut. It was a superstore before the word was invented. Irv, the genial owner, and the attentive Edna were always there… helping Caz folks find the right boot or coat or sump pump. There was even a rack with mildly steamy discounted paperbacks. The covers were torn off, of course.
Googin’s movie theater showed gritty black and white British films with lots of masonry as a background for the drama. Little brick walls on the screen everywhere.
The people who ran the stores (except maybe the Western Auto) in Cazenovia were genuinely warm folks who cared a lot about the village and its children. Each store and shop had its own distinct personality. Shopping Malls were just getting started around the country but Caz remained much the same as it had been.
Cazenovia also had two train trestles to cautiously cross, a library with a mummy and stuffed birds situated up another grand staircase and a park with a masonry pier extending into the four mile long lake. Not far from the lake is Carpenter's pond. It is just loaded with frogs. It is also a good place to skate.
Yeah we watched too much TV on our little black and white sets but we spent most of our time outdoors exploring, playing and enjoying our neighbors.
In many ways our childhoods were not much different than those from fifty or more years before. Take Depot Hill. It is on Williams Street. It was a fairly short hill in the middle of a neighborhood with the train tracks at its base. Not real long but it was pretty good for sliding down in winter. Many, many sleds went down that hill over the years. As far as I know only one fellow was struck by a car. His last name was Friend and he walked with a limp afterwards.
The neighborhood kids also managed to turn that hill into a baseball diamond and a football field on occasion.
Anyway, I am sure that kids were sliding down Depot hill at the turn of the century and into the twenties and thirties and that they did so in nearly the same way that we did. It was the same situation only back then there were people in Model Ts slowly driving by.
It was all a little bit like a Capra movie, like “It’s a Wonderful Life” and, for a while, it was.
©2015 by John P. Kennedy