Jobs

Paper Routes

I had a paper route for three years delivering the Philadelphia Inquirer every day except Sunday. I think I was the only one in my senior class that had to deliver papers in the morning before school. The paper was always very heavy on Thursdays. That was the issue when all the ads were published for stores.

Normally I’d pick up my 52 papers at the paper office on Frack Street that was owned by Mr. Kalbach. But on Thursdays, we could only carry half because they were so thick with all of the ads. The other half on my route was dropped off next to the street corner of Oak and Fourth Streets. Papers were delivered as close to the door as possible. We did not just toss them on the ground outside the house. I got pretty good at throwing them so they made one complete revolution and slid, folded end first, up close to the front door. It was the same toss you make in playing horse shoes. It took about 45 to 50 minutes to complete my route and then it was time to get ready for school. The most famous person on my route were the parents of Ron Northey, a ball player for the Philadelphia Phillies.

I also delivered the Shenandoah Evening Herald in the evenings for a year. My route was across the railroad tracks North of Oak Street from Railroad Avenue to Spencer Street for a year. That was easier because it was a much smaller paper. The Inquirer had to be folded in a rectangle but you could fold the Herald in a triangle and throw it much farther.

Saturday was the best day of the week because after delivering the paper it was time to go back and collect money for the week’s deliveries. The paper was 5 cents and when I collected the thirty cents for the week I’d usually get a nickel or dime tip. That alone added up to a few dollars extra. I think we were only paid a penny a day to deliver each paper so tips were almost as much as my pay most weeks.

Anthony’s Grocery Store and "Store at Your Door"

Anthony’s store on Second Street was kitty-corner from our house. We did all of our shopping there. I think most people ran a tab because money was tight. My mother always said "tell them to put it on the book." When my parents had a few dollars I’d be asked to go and pay some of what was owed.

I worked in their little grocery store as a stock boy. You had to go outside and down the trap doors to get to the basement where all the stock was stored. I also worked on their "Store at Your Door" as a bagger and "totaler-upper." They used an old blue converted school bus. It was pretty neat. The back of it opened like today’s hatch backs, if I recall correctly, and that exposed the counter. We loaded the bus the night before because we got a very early start and didn’t get back until the late afternoon. Customers would line up and place their orders. George or Tommy Anthony sliced the meats and got the products from the shelves and gave them to me to bag. Each item’s price was recorded on the side of the bag in pencil. When the order was complete I was asked to total it up. Then Tommy or George rang it up on the old cash register and took the money.

The whole idea was to take the store to people in the surrounding patches that had nothing nearby. However, the first stop was always at the St. Joseph’s Catholic Church at Center and Frack Streets. We went right next door to the home where the nuns lived. They certainly could have come to town but they were always the first stop. Then the bus headed out of town and down the "Maizie." When we got to the bottom of the hill we headed for Shennandoah, Mahanoy City, and then back toward Girardville hitting every patch on the way.

Garden Theater
The Garden Theater was located on the corner of Oak Street (Rt. 61) and Lehigh Avenue, the main intersection in Frackville. The theater was one of the first businesses to have air conditioning. What a treat on a hot summer day. I remember going out the side exit doors after the movie. The afternoon sun was so bright it took a minute before you could see. The doors opened to the sidewalk along Oak Street just four blocks from my house. There were two small stores on either side of the ticket booth. The one on the left was Peanut’s Bender’s Cigar store. He sold tobacco, newspapers, and magazines. It was also the Greyhound stop and he sold tickets.

I was an usher at the Garden Theater for a few years. I wore a jacket and carried a flashlight. The light was used to show people to their seats after the movie started. It was also used to shine on noisy patrons.

The job involved much more than ushering. We rode around with the owner, Joe Snitzer, in his car every Saturday to deliver posters covering the next week’s movies to all the restaurants and bars within 10 miles of Frackville. Joe pinched pennies and saved every way he could. There was a back road out of Shenandoah that went to Mahanoy City. It must have been Rt. 54. It was downhill just about the whole way and Joe would get a head start, shut the engine off, and coast all the way to the bottom.

We helped in the audience when they played a game one night a week, I think on Wednesday, that was similar to Bingo, but it was called LUCKY. The rules were the same as Bingo, just using different letters.

We changed the marquee and posters three times a week. Each night for the last showing of a movie, we had to take the posters out of the windows in front of the theater and roll them up to be sent along with the two reels of film to the next theater showing them. Then we would put in the next show’s posters and change the marquee to the new show. There was a very tall ladder down by the stage. It took two people to handle it so we walked down an aisle to the stage during the movie and took the ladder out the side door. The letters were kept in the basement and we took only those needed for the next show that were not included in the name of the previous movie. They were heavy and had an angled slot to hang on the wire frame. More than once I wish I had kept one or two of the posters. They’d be worth a fortune today.

One of the benefits of working there was I got in free and I could bring my girl friends for nothing. The balcony about six rows of seats and some were double seats where you could cuddle close with your girl friend. I was attending a recent high school reunion that is held every three years for every class that graduated from Frackville. Each class sat at their own table. I was at the class of 1958 when someone tapped me on the shoulder from the class of 1959 table behind me. It was Ann Lapinski and after talking for a few minutes she asked if I remembered that I was her first date. It's embarrassing to say I didn’t. She went on to say I took her to the theater in 1953 and saw House of Wax staring Vincent Price. Wow, what a memorable evening it must have been for a first date! In my defense there was only one show playing each night in the one-screen theater.

Another side benefit of working there was getting to explore the building. The area where we kept a few things like the letters for the marquee was in the basement. There was a little door in the side of the men’s room that led to an area with a dirt floor. You couldn’t stand up so we more or less hunched over to get around. There was one part that had a trench where you could stand up. It led under the theater to a series of rooms underneath and behind the stage. I believe it was used as rooms for vaudeville entertainers at one time. We went behind the screen while a movie was playing. We goofed around a little dancing and acting as if we were in the movie. Everything was reversed and quite loud.

I think it was the Knights of Columbus lodge that was located above the theater. Once we managed to get upstairs and roam around looking at everything. There were knight’s armor, spears and shields. Cool!

I believe the theater was owned by Paul and Thomas Kerrigan. They also built the HiWay Drive in a few miles west of town in Fountain Springs. The drive in was completed in the spring of 1950. All three theaters are gone with the Garden being torn down in 1968 and a Hess gas station was opened on the corner. Now, the gas station is gone too.

Sheppo’s Furnace
I shoveled coal at the blond brick house owned by the Sheppo’s, out in the Altamont area of town. They had a stoker furnace and I had to keep the hopper full of coal. Man that was a dirty job. The coal dust in the coal bin was horrible. It took me about 15 minutes to fill the hopper but I was blowing black snot (excuse me) for hours. I did let the hopper get empty and the furnace went out once and caught hell for it. In the winter it meant three trips out there by foot. It was uphill both ways, oh wait, that’s the part I tell my kids!

I never talked to Mrs. Sheppo until Saturday, payday. I rang the bell and she buzzed me in. There was a long staircase and she stood at the top and tossed a fifty cent coin down to me, my week’s pay.

Simple Things

Telephone

Our phone number was 122. That was it. This was before dial phones and you had to tell the operator what number you wanted. We were the lucky ones to have a single family line. I think the Shadel’s and Davis’ had a "J" or an "R" after it indicating it was a party line. I’ve been there when some friends were listening in on the other party’s conversation. Can you imagine something like that today?

Flag Flyers
I never had Blue Swede shoes but I had my white buck "Flag Flyers" with the tongue that flipped up to open so you could put your foot in and the flip it down to close. Simplicity at it’s best! I remember going to a shoe store on Leigh Avenue down by the Victoria Theater. They had an x-ray machine that you put your foot into so you and your parents could see if the shoe fit properly. Penny loafers were big back then. I think just about everyone had a pair at one time or another.

Frackville train station shortly before being
torn down.

Block Parties
I loved going to the block party at the train station across the street from the Good Will Fire Hose Company on Oak street. Ah, bean soup and bleenies! I may have one of the last series of pictures taken before the train station was torn down and moved. There were plenty of other great block parties at churches and fire houses. And that was just those in our town. They are just as popular today as when I was growing up.

 

American Legion Pool

This was not a pool hall or a swimming pool but rather a daily lottery. People would pay 10 cents to get a circular chip about the size of a half-dollar. They had numbers on each one that corresponded to a numbered line on the sheet where your name and address was written. Then, you put the chip in a big barrel that was spun round and round at 9:00 PM every night. A lucky person got to draw one number and whoever’s name was on the sheet next to that number won a percentage of the pot for the night up to the maximum of $150. The person drawing the number got a buck or two from the winners. Kids used to hang around a after the drawing and race to the house that won to tell them they "won the pool." They would be rewarded with a tip for being the bearer of the news. The next day the winner would go up to collect.

One night, Joe’s Pool Hall was closing a bit early. It was just a few minutes before 9 PM and I was walking home past the American Legion Pool. I had just one dime in my pocket so I decided to "play the pool." I was the last number in that the barrel so I waited for the wining number to be drawn. I couldn’t believe my ears when they called my number. No one else could believe that the last number would win either.

Normally I would have gone back the next day to collect but I couldn’t wait. I took all of the winnings, the full $150 that night, mostly coins, in a brown paper bag and ran home. We had to be home by the time the fire house horn stopped blowing at 9 PM. There were nine blasts, once for each hour. I ran so fast I because I knew I was late. I was so excited, I stumbled and fell in the parlor and the money spilled all over.

I can tell you the exact date I won because I deposited the money the very next day. I still have the savings account book. It was November 4, 1957. I used the money to go to the Bohard’s Store on the corner of Frack Street and Lehigh Avenue to buy a suit for graduation. It was black with a pink flecks pattern and a pink knit tie. That’s what I’m wearing in my graduation picture.

Savings Account?

Just thought I’d mention my savings account story. I opened a savings account at the First National Bank of Frackville and deposited $5 on January 4, 1956. I quickly followed that with a $1 deposit on the 19th. Successive deposits of $6, $5.50, and $5.50 gave me a grand total of $23 by February 28, 1956.

Something must have happened because on March 9, I withdrew $22 leaving me with $1! Then, no more activity for 3 months until I deposited $4. Six months later, I added $4 more and quickly followed with $5 for a total of $14. Guess what, something happened again, and I took out $10, followed quickly by taking out $3, leaving me with, you guessed it, $1 on February 18, 1957.

A pattern was developing which continued for a long time. That $1 sat in the bank until I hit the local lottery six months later in November. I deposited $120 for a grand total of $121! On February 28, 1958 I drew out $120 to buy my graduation suit leaving $1.

There were a few more deposits and withdrawals and when I left for the Navy I took out all that was remaining except for, can you guess, yep, $1. That dollar has been there now for almost 54 years!

Sheeny Man

Do you remember the "sheeny man?" I do and it was kind of interesting to see him. I seem to recall he had a horse-drawn wagon when he went up and down the alley between streets yelling "rags and old iron" over and over again. We would save up a pile and when we heard his bell we would run out to the alley behind our house with our booty. There wasn’t much of a reward but I still found it interesting.

My sister has a different memory. She thinks the term sheeny was derogatory in some way – maybe associated with a particular ethnic group or something. Her recollections are: "Mom told me a young child that if I didn’t listen, she was going to sell me to the sheeny man. That scared the dickens out of me, so it usually worked." She recalls "I remember that the sheeny man had an old truck that came into the alleys and he had all kinds of 'junk.' I remember that he bought things too, like old material (rags) and metal. I remember that his appearance was frightening and I remember 'hiding' whenever he came around our yard. I really was afraid that he would take me away. Does anybody else remember being disciplined with threats of being sold to the 'sheeny man'?"

Gampsy

Grandpa "Gampsy" Smarowsky

Albert "Gampsy" Smarowsky was my maternal grandfather. He lived with us during a couple of periods during my years in Frackville. He was a coal miner. He had pieces of coal embedded in his hands from working in the mines. These were not strip mines but rather they were tunnels dug deep in the ground. He told me of people being killed in a collapse. He smoked Lucky Strike cigarettes and I remember him coughing a lot. The combination of black lung disease and smoking finally killed him. UPDATE: Recently I found his death certificate online which stated the cause of death as bladder cancer.

Gampsy on the back porch. I'm sitting

on the ground on the left.

After living somewhere else for a while, Gampsy came back to live with us and that’s when I have the fondest memories of him. One day Gampsy gathered my sister Shirley, a neighbor Bea Davis, and me in the back yard and made an offer we couldn’t refuse. There were always plenty of weeds in our yard since mother nature had complete control over what grew there. One of the most plentiful weeds was plantain, better known as pigtails to us. "I’ll give you each five cents for every pigtail you dig up and put in this basket," Gampsy said, holding a bushel basket out in front of him. I don’t remember how many we picked but the basket was quite full and Gampsy kept his promise. The picture shows him sitting on the back porch around this time.

For a short time I remember sharing the same room with Gampsy. My brother Jimmy was a toddler and was still sleeping in my parent’s bedroom. Gampsy and I were in the back bedroom. That didn’t last long and I believe he moved up to the attic when my brother Jimmy and I started sharing the same bedroom. The bedroom was very small and did not have a closet. The few clothes we had were kept in a wardrobe in one corner. I remember the suit I wore to church hung on the back of the attic door. It was the only suit so I wore it every Sunday to church. I hated that suit because it was heavy wool and since then I can’t stand wool clothes touching my skin.

Pool table set up in the dining room. I'm racking
the balls while my brother watches.

Gampsy spent a lot of his youth in pool halls. He gave my brother Jimmy and me a pool table for Christmas. From the picture it looks like it was around 1951. I spent many hours at the local pool halls during my high school years.

Gampsy had a knack of being able to make everything better. It didn’t matter if it was a broken toy or a broken spirit, he could fix it.

I last saw him working at Paul’s Bar on South Lehigh avenue. My brother said he was working just for room and board. I visited him in 1962 shortly before he died. I went down to the bar and was talking to him when his boss yelled to him to go to the basement and tap another keg. He was 73 but still stocky and could handle a keg of beer pretty well.

Both of my grandparents are buried in the cemetery at Fountain Springs. Their gravestone is easy to find. It is right alongside highway 61 next to the first telephone pole on the right after making the turn at the bottom of the hill going toward Ashland, very near the Ashland Hospital.

Friends

Harry Shadel

Harry was one of my best friends. He had a 1949 red Ford convertible that wasn’t in the best of shape and Harry had no money to fix it up. The car was missing a few hub caps and I remember my mother saying "Don’t ride in Harry’s car, the wheels are going to fall off his car." This was because she could see the lug nuts! The convertible top, originally equipped with a motor to open and close it, had long since stopped working. We had to manually operate it but I never gave it a second thought. I also remember the battery wouldn’t hold a charge. Harry always parked it so it would be facing in the direction of a downhill. We would push it to get it started moving down the hill, jump in and Harry would pop the clutch and we were off and running! Harry didn’t have much money for gas either. I remember going out to a gas station in the Altamont and buying 50 cents worth. Now back then gas was probably 25 to 30 cents a gallon. I didn’t take a lot of trips in his car but I did go to the Bloomsburg Fair with him once, sans apple cider!

Once Harry was asked to drive Mrs. Shadel’s car, a little two-door coupe, down to the store so she could get home. I went along for the ride. Harry couldn’t stand the way his mother drove – very slow and overly cautious – maybe not in her mind, but in Harry’s, it was painful to ride with her. Mrs. Shadle wanted to drive her own car back because she couldn’t stand the way Harry drove – too fast and without caution! Anyhow, once we passed the old Hi-Way Drive-In Theater, the hill to Frackville was dead ahead. Mrs. Shadel kept going about 25 mph as she always did, and Harry was having a conniption. "Mom, you have to drive faster to get a running start to get up the hill" he said. She would have nothing to do with that and we proceeded up the hill at a slow speed. Of course we quickly lost any semblance of "speed" and after down shifting, we went so slow you could almost walk faster. Maybe not, but it seemed like it then.

Although Harry was one year older than me we remained friends until the end. He joined the Navy, and like me, he couldn’t wait to get discharged. One of my favorite pictures is of both of us standing in front of our house all dressed in our uniforms. The funny thing is, Harry is in his Summer whites and I was in my Winter blues!

Every time I returned to town I’d be sure to look him up. Harry drove truck like my father and they shared a few experiences so Dad kept me informed on what was going on in his life. Harry died a few years ago. I miss him.

Bea Davis
 
When we first moved from Ashland to Frackville I was about two years old. The first house we lived in was the house at 140 South Second Street, right next door to the Davis home. My sister and Bea became good friends and are still in touch to this day. 

Bea and I were also friends and I tell everyone that this picture is one of me and my first girl friend.

I did not recall this next story happening but Bea told me about it at a recent reunion and my sister confirmed it. We were playing in the back yard and there was an electric wire that was pretty low between the Davis and McNalis, house. The grass was wet and apparently I grabbed it and couldn’t let go. My brother Jim grabbed my shoulder and he stuck to me. It isn’t clear how many more grabbed on before we were able to break the circuit and we all fell on the ground. My sister doesn’t  remember who all was hurt but my brother had his hands burned. We were all pretty lucky.

George Hoffman
 
One of my earliest friends was George Hoffman. He live about a block and a half down Second street. We played together a lot. I remember going down to his back porch early in the morning and  instead of knocking I’d yell “George, can you come out to play?”  He was a little on the mischievous side and I went right along with him. I can’t remember why we wanted some matches once but we had no money and decided to lift them from a grocery store. I’m pretty certain they wouldn’t have sold them to us anyhow. I still have a guilt trip about this but never told anyone, ever. 

Part of the Anthony family split off from the small store on our block. They opened in a store that I think was an IGA. It was on Oak Street between Third Street and Fourth Street. We walked in and started walking the aisles looking for matches. We found them  and I put a small box in my pocket. We proceeded to walk out of the store but must have looked guilty as sin because I had my hands in my pockets. We got outside the door and George Anthony came up to the window, he knocked on it and asked us to come back inside. Our goose was cooked for sure. I discovered I had a hole in my pants pocket and was able to push the matches our and down my pants leg so they landed on the sidewalk outside the store. We went back inside and George said “What do you have in your pockets?” I was really lucky that day because in my other pocket I have a rubber ball we were playing catch with earlier. I took the ball out and showed it to him. He seemed satisfied but I think he knew we were up to no good. We went back outside, picked up the matches and ran as fast as we could. These are the little things you do growing up and feel sorry for later in life. Sorry George!

We remained good friends up to third grade. George’s father took a new job and the family moved to Levittown. I never saw him again. 
 
Louis
 
St. John’s Polish National Church was at the corner of Second and Oak Streets. The priest’s son was named Louis. I can’t remember their last name. After George Hoffman and his family moved I became good friends with Louis. We played for hours in their back yard next to the alley. We made up games and had a really good time. Once again, my best friend and his family moved when his father was transferred to another church.

John Sabol
 
John lived down the street next to Frank Prenetta’s house. His nick name was “Sib” and he lived with his father and older brother. They had a grapevine in the back yard next to the garage. I remember crawling up and sitting on the roof of the garage gorging on grapes.
John had a BB gun which was absolutely forbidden in our house. I couldn’t even tell my parents I was playing with one. We would go in the basement and set up bottles and cans for target practice.
 
Brother

When I was born my older sister Shirley always said “That’s my brother” when asked who I was. The nickname Brother stuck with me among close friends and family for many years. I was well into my 30s before my parents called me Glenn and frankly, it sounded kind of odd. Bea Davis said she didn’t realize that my name wasn’t brother until we started school!

To be continued:  Other friends and stories to be added later.