Part III Cortland Reminisces-East Side Life- ACArdis
These stories of blue-collar life in Cortland in 1950-1980 were posted in Past and Present Cortlandites Reminisce. Some Comments are included. A Melodyland Christmas was very popular. Allan C Ardis April 14, 2024
Contents
AT THE MOVIES: THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.. 4
SCHOOL TRIP TO COOPERSTOWN.. 7
THE IN-CROWD AT THE VARSITY.. 10
CORTLAND JR-SR HIGH SING ALONG.. 11
TEACHER APPRECIATION WEEK.. 11
THE COUNTY FARM FOR OLD FOLKS. 13
FATHER’ DAY AT THE BARBER SHOP. 15
SAVING TEN CENTS AT THE CORNER STORE.. 16
CORTLAND HAD GOOD NEIGHBORS. 20
NIGHT AT THE DRYDEN DRIVE-IN.. 22
HE NEEDED A LAWN CHAIR, NOT PERFUEM… 25
YWCA’S IMMIGRANT CHRISTMAS PARTY.. 27
THE BEST OF TIMES< THE WORST OF TIMES. 37
AT THE MOVIES
Mr. Anthony, the manager, hassled by brother Steve about some boyhood infraction, but it backfired. Behind my brother was my sister, and like everyone in the family, she was tall . Mr. Anthony accused her of being over 12 years and cheating to get the kiddie price ticket. Standing behind her was my father, a forge shop hammerman, incensed at this accusation. Pop stormed out, went back to River St., and brought back her birth certificate. By this time, Mr. Anthony was terrified and couldn’t apologize fast enough! Sadly, it was his wife, a teacher, who got their revenge. She failed my cousin from 12th grade English, crushing her ego with no graduation with her friends. The family circled the wagons for my cousin, and she got over it. We still resent the arrogance of the Anthonys. Why would an east-ender teenager destined to be a lifelong typewriter assembler need good English. Graduating with her friends would have been more important.
AT THE MOVIES: THE TEN COMMANDMENTS
Movies at the State Theater gave Corltnadites an understanding of life and religion. Among the most impactful was THE TEN COMMENDMENTS. It pulled in the Cortland audience in record numbers and ran for an unprecedented three weeks. For us seldom-church goers, it was the only Bible study we had until JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR came along and showed us the New Testament.
MOVIE: GONE WITH THE WIND was another extraordinary hit at the State Theater. It appeallted to all the southerners in Cortland. Uncle Kaiser, a true son-of-the-south, had only been to the movies once in his life, to see Gone With The Wind. He thought that Intermission was the end of the movie. Fortunately he stopped for a cigarette in the lobby. You could smoke in the theater in those days. Relatives turned him around and back in o that he could see the 2nd act..
CHRISTMAS BRIGHT STAR
On Christmas Eve in 1968 the Cortland Standard newspaper published a special Christmas edition with the banner headline reading WISE MEN FOLLOW BRIGHT STAR TO BIRTH IN MANGER. I read this headline out load and my wife’s eyes bulged with surprise as she asked with a startled look, “Did it happened again?!” Merry Christmas
MEDICINE
Cold, wet Cortland has a rate double the national average for Multiple Sclerosis. A leading factor causing MS is lack of Vitamin D from sunshine as an infant. Sixty-plus years ago, they didn’t know that. If they had, the solution at the time would have been simple-go out in the sun for 10 minutes a day or swallow some cod liver oil (yech). It manifests itself decades after infancy,. There are early signs that weren’t recognized back then, like wobbliness in the legs. Don’t ignore youthful clumsiness and just call it “growing pains”.
MS IN CORTLAND WINTERS
In the 1950’s-60’s we watched the Mickey Mouse Club every afternoon and did not know that Annette Funicello had multiple sclerosis. Neither did she. It is difficult to diagnose. MS should be a concern for anyone living under Cortland’s long and overcast winter skies. Central NY has a MS rate double the national average due to dark weather. Annette was from Utica. MS starts in infancy often as a result of a deficiency of Vitamin D from sunshine. MS manifests slowly over the years. When she started swaying she was concerned that Disney management would think she was drinking but continued working. Bravo to Annette. If you see Cortland youth having difficulties in running, skating, skiing, and dancing, don’t explain it as youthful clumsiness and call it “growing pains” did. Make sure the kids take their vitamin D pills. Adults need at least 10 minutes a day of sunshine and in these blizzardly dark days of winter, take your Vitamin D pills, too, folks.
TIME FOR SCHOOL
SEPTEMBER BACK TO SCHOOL
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September was back-to-school month. Cool in the morning, warm in the afternoon, we walked to school, trekking past factories and over railroad tracks. We stopped at neighborhood stores for school supplies. As we reached the school, the popular school janitor hung out the door saying hi to the kids. A sense of confidence in the future was in the air. Grammar school gave us three R’s- reading,’riting, and ‘rithemantic- and that was enough to get a job building boats, trucks, or typewriters. The Weekly Readers filled us in on world events, like the new queen of England, and telling us that Hawaii was now a state. Our academic achievement was measured in the yearly Iowa-tests. Maybe our parents heard the results, but we didn’t. It seemed to have no consequences. When new kids came in from a foreign land, we helped them learn to be American, Cortland-style. In gym class, we did calisthenics and climbed ropes. Some kids went up and across to the other rope like monkeys. A few, including myself, never got off the ground, and that was okay. There was encouragement but no pressure. Cortland was dairy land, so milk came in each morning. The cost was 2 cents/bottle. Not every family could afford it, but every kid somehow got a bottle of milk. Lunch was always good, and on that end of town, it was always tuna casserole or a cheese sandwich on Friday, never meat. Recess was time back outdoors on the monkey bars and swings whether warm or snow. Rainy days maybe we got a cartoon movie. On Wednesday afternoons, all the Catholic kids marched over to the church for catechisms. That left about 5 of us making paper airplanes. On special days, we had a puppet show in the auditorium. In the Spring we were given a pitch to go to Summer Camp, which few us could afford. The school year seemed to never end, until finally if was summer vacation again. We watched the calendar peel down the days to September!
SCHOOL TRIP TO COOPERSTOWN
The school trip to Cooperstown was the highlight of six years at Pomeroy School. The Baseball Hall of Fame, the Farmers Museum, and the James Fenimore House were all sites on the excursion. Cost of the trip was $1. Sadly, not every kid could come up with a dollar, but the teachers covered it. Many thanks
DODGE BALL-a Lesson in Life
The two sixth-grade class rooms at Pomeroy School in 1960 played dodge-ball against each other. Their game had life lessons. The balls were clustered in the middle of the gym floor to start. The kids in Mr. Scales class always ran out to the balls first, fastest, and en masse. Only a few kids from the other class sped out to the center. The rest hung back against the gym wall. They got clobbered. Mr. Scales’s class always grabbed the balls first, started throwing, and won. Lessons: the bravest get knocked out first, but we admire their courage. Be aggressive; don’t hang back and expect to survive. Go for it!
PTA EASTER PARADE
An Easter Parade skit was put on for the Pomeroy School PTA each year in the 1950s. Four little couples danced on stage for the pleasure and pride of the audience. Bing Crosby sang while we danced to this song: “In your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it, “You’ll be the grandest lady in the Easter parade.”
VALENTINES DAY
1Sent to Allan Ardisio
The Valentine’s Day cards exchange between all the kids in each grade was a fun tradition at Pomeroy School on the east side in the 1950’s. At least half of my 4th grade class in1958 were of Italian descent, and I still appreciate their fondness for me by Italianizing my last name when writing out their cards to me as Allan Ardisio. All I can say now is grazie! for the memory, and Happy Valentines Day, Cortland.
PUBLIC HEALTH AT SCHOOL
Cortland made major advances in Public health back in the 1950s & 60s with programs administered through the schools. In 1963, every student in every school was given polio vaccine. We lined up, marched through the cafeteria, and received a small cup of the oral vaccine. The success rate of the vaccine was high and there were no side effects. We will never know who amongst us was prevented from getting polio, but we can all be grateful for the prevention. Likewise on dental, Pomeroy School had a dental chair, and a dental technician visited periodically. The technician cleaned teeth, encouraged the basics of good dental hygiene and training, and made early identification of problems. If not for this program, few students in Pomeroy would have ever seen a dental chair.
Milk Break
MILK BREAK
Dairy was a major industry in Cortland. School kids got a bottle of milk every morning. Cost was 2 cents. Some could not afford even that. Teachers covered it.
THE IN-CROWD AT THE VARSITY
Back in the 1960’s Cortland Jr-Sr High School was only a short walk from the Varsity on Main Street. The “cool kids” all darted out at lunch time and ran up the street to the Varsity Restaurant where they lived the happy day life for an hour before running back as the bell rang. New kids to the school who werenot-so-cool ate just a lonely hot dog at the lunch counter at Kresse Dept Store. However, they soon discovered they could buy a lunch ticket for 25 cents and eat in the school cafeteria in the basement at noon without walking out in the snow. School lunches were great so was the companionship of stay-in schoolmates. The Varsity can keep their greasy hamburgers, I’ll stand in a high school lunch line for the school’s Hungarian Goulash any day.
CORTLAND JR-SR HIGH SING ALONG
Cortland Jr-Sr HS had a PTA Variety Show was held annually in the auditorium of the Jr-Sr HS on Central Ave. The auditorium held about 500 and as packed. Teachers performed in skits, musical solos, and a Barber Shop Quartet. The grand finale, Mr. Goodale led a rousing sing-along of “On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed.” The room roared with laughter and pleasure. Those were the good old days! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2swVxwUZcfw
TEACHER APPRECIATION WEEK
One outstanding teacher can change the entire trajectory of a person’s life. Pomeroy school teacher Roger Scales did that for me in 1960. Cortland had six public elementary schools. Pomeroy Elementary sent the fewest, if any, into the Accelerated Class program going in to CHS. Mr. Scales fought hard and put me into that program. I was the only one in the advanced class from Cortland’s industrial east end. Doing well there gave me the self-confidence to be a success. Throughout my career I “paid the favor forward” and gave promotions and a boost to the young people who needed it the most. In this chain of life events, Roger Scales helped many people live a better life. I did well there, and fulfilled his promise. I don’t know if he ever knew that. We moved to SC in 1963. I later became an engineer, executive, and European Operations Manager for the largest processor of platinum, gold, and silver in the USA, and a Vice President & Gen. Manager. I wanted to thank Mr. Scales, but I learned here on FB that he passed away. Now, I can pass that thanks on to you, his son. Thank you.
TEACHER’S NEW YEAR’S EVE
Mr. Goodale in 8th grade math at Cortland Jr-Sr HS told us that a goal of his was to celebrate New Year’s Eve in New York City’s Times Square. The year he made it, the throng was so thick that when jumped, he was squashed so tightly his feet could not touch down. No fun in that. When I entered factory life a few years later, New Year’s Eve was touted as a drink-and-be-merry night. In actuality, sitting in rod-and-gun club drinking beer was anything but merry. Reverting back to boyhood, the best place to be was out on the farm in Virgil, sitting in a snug farmhouse with the aroma drifting up from the basement of the maple wood burning furnace. The merriment was playing cards, drinking cocoa and sampling Grandma’s homemade fudge while watching the ball drop in Times Square. Decades later, the fudge and ball on New Year’s Eve are a tradition. Happy New Year.
LIFE IN CORTLAND
THE COUNTY FARM FOR OLD FOLKS
Cortland had a county farm for the poor. It was sad. I visited that County Farm and walked across that bridge seen here more than once. My uncle Bob ended his days there as a resident in the facility in the 1950s. The County Farm was not a happy place for anyone. The river flowed slowly past and had a miasma that lingered over the water. This fog floated around and kept the county farm buildings damp. The food, care, and treatment were tolerable. Let us today be thankful that Cortland now has social programs that keep us from having to end final years on the farm. My father, Clarence, and his uncle Kaiser had the decency to visit uncle Bob and bring a few minutes of sunshine and hope to a bleak setting.
ICE SKATING ON THE POND
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Old fashioned country life is not always the treat it looks to be. Years ago my uncle and I ice skated on a farm pond in Virgil after trudging up to it through deep snow and clearing the snow off an area large enough to allow gliding. We checked whether it was thick enough to support us. We stayed away from the side where a hillside spring drizzled in water. The boyhood fun worked out safely, but we certainly would not let our grandkids do the same today.
My fall through the ice happened in the parking lot at the forging plant on River Street. A pool about a foot deep formed and froze over. We hiked down there on a frigid winter night with sleds to glide across it. I fell through andgot quickly soak. I trudged home with wet clothes freezing to my legs. Hypothermia was not far off, but no one knew but me. That was the lesson about staying off the ice. The lesson was well learned when we hiked down to the river when it was frozen over and did not ry our luck.
THE HAIRCUT
FATHER’ DAY AT THE BARBER SHOP
There is more to this story. The barber shop on Central Ave. and next to the Corner Store. was operated by an Italian father and son team. The father catered to traditional haircuts, and the son, Louie, did most of the teenager ones. I had the flat-top hair style popular in those days. It’s a little tricky to cut evenly, so my parents told me to ask for the son to cut my flat-top. Unfortunately, the father’s barber chair opened up first, and he said, “Next!”. With dread I repeated my parents’ instructions to wait for the son. Louis, the senior barber, was insulted, indignant, and angry. Next I heard, “What’s matter you no want me to cut your hair?” He glared. I tried to explain but the embarrassment only got worse. I let him cut my hair. He did okay, and I would tell my folks at home that the son cut it. Let them wonder. After that gaffe, I went from there around to the Corner Store for my next fiasco. It was a dog-day afternoon.
See The Corner Store post next.
PS: The father nicked my cousin Tom’s ear painfully. That angered the whole clan back on River Street. Tom changed barbers to Nick & Guy’s Shop shop where they played opera on Saturday mornings. Italian barbers are senstivie, but you have to love them!
SAVING TEN CENTS AT THE CORNER STORE
Trying to beat the telephone company out of ten cents was a common routine back then. After the haircut next door I popped in to the telephone booth inside THE CORNER STORE on Church Street to call home for a ride. The plan was that I would use a code by letting the phone ring 10 ten times to signal come pick me up. I let it ring. However, upon the tenth ring, my uncle there could not stand the suspense and picked up the phone as I was hanging up. Not knowing that he did that, I told Mr. Rumsey, the proprietor, that my dime did not come back. The telephone repair man happened to be sitting at the soda counter, so he came over, connected my call, and stood there listening. This time, my uncle and I had a stale conversation as to why I was calling since he said the whole clan was already in the car and on their way to get me. Embarrassed, I walked 10 blocks down Central Ave. all the way to home on River St., while the family spent 20 minutes driving up and down Elm St. fruitlessly looking for me. Frustration was shared by all around. The lesson in how not to save a dime Cortland on haircut day.
Comment: Many commenters said that they went through a similar ritual to save money on a call in those days.
FAMILY LIFE
HALLOWEEN
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It’s Halloween time again. Ready to go Trick-or Treating are: front row- Allan, Mike, Billy , middle row- Barry, back row- Steve, Cheryl Ardis, Uncle Jim Congdon, good friend Walter Protas. All on front porch of 75 River Street, 1960. . This photo took on a “Twilight Zone” effect over the decades since, as each one of us developed into the character we portrayed that night from wounded veteran to carefree bum.
-I was in Cortland Halloween Parade. I remember Clarence, my father, following alongside the parade to keep an eye on me. The parade was more an entertainment for parents, who thought their kids were having fun than for the kids themselves. We trudged down Main St. to get a donut at Randall Field at the end of march. My mother, Jeanette, was always a joiner for this type of thing. It was not a tradition that Clarence would have known about back in Pinewood in those days.
-Trick-or-treating for us was a 5-star production for us in Cortland and a fun chance to load up on candy. Some years we went out 2 or 3 nights in a row.
-early one night, a neighbor put grapes in my bag. The grapes squashed in to juice, created a hole, and trickled out the candy. Was he just thoughtless, or was he a jerk, we will never know.
-blue collar neighborhoods were the most generous places to trick or treat. However, they were a little rougher. My trick-or-treat bag was stolen one year and we were shot at with a BB gun. We ducked in to Firpo’s Diner next to the railroad tracks on Elm Street. A husky young man at the counter was incensed when he heard about the stolen bag and ran out to confront the punks. He couldn’t find them, but his care and concern for us kids to have a fun Halloween was a memory that lasted a lifetime. Thank you, brave young man.
-when we moved to Sumter in 1963, Halloween in SC was a minor event for a variety of economic and cultural reasons. Among other things, we were very low on money, so there was no candy to hand out anyway. I put hickory nuts and half-dead batteries in the bags of the kids that came by. We lived at the end of dirt lane that led in to a swamp, so there weren’t many kids coming by.
– Later, when SC became more prosperous, they got into the Halloween spirt. Haunted House parties were set up sometimes. One year the “haunted tunnel” exhibit made up of cardboard boxes linked together and lined with “blood” and “spiders” and scary stuff was so scary that it terrified the kids in it. One little girl was parallelized inside with fear and could not move. All the screaming kids behind her were stuck. My father, Clarence, was in the box accompanying his grandkids. Resourcefully he pulled out his cigarette lighter and created enough glow to get them through. However, this could easily have turned in to a tragedy. Creating trauma in kids should not be condoned.
RIVER STREET HILLBILLIES
The Beverly Hillbillies was a fresh new television program in 1962, and these photos make it appear that they had arrived in Cortland in a this Model A Ford along with Civil War preparations. In fact, the automobile was being restored at the Ardis Top Shop, a part-time upholstery business operated by Clarence and Kaiser Ardis in a barn behind their homes on River St. In the driver’s seat is good neighbor Harold Thompson, owner-operator of a waste-hauling business, and in the back are his wife Betty and Jim Congdon. The guns and hats were part of the Civil War commemoration in 1961-’62 . All the kids were wearing the soldier caps. The Ardis’ wore Confederate gray. My schoolmate Joe Discenza , whose family owned the Green Arch around the corner from Pomeroy School, wore the Union blue. Oh, like Granny Clampett, Clarence and Kaiser fired up their still from time to time. Uncle Herman got so smashed on a quick sample that he could hardly stagger home across River St.
CORTLAND HAD GOOD NEIGHBORS
Roger, Kaiser, Barry, Bill, Mike, Jeanette Ardis
We were typical of all the families across town. From our house at River & Elm, we knew almost every family within 2 blocks in every direction. When we had a backyard barbeque, neighbors poured in and shared an all night vigil cooking and drinking, and the next day shared good food and good times. Neighbors knew each other because our kids went to the same local school (Pomeroy was one of the local focal points back then), kids played at the same park (Dexter), and all parents participated in the PTA. Many went to the same neighborhood churches (St Anthony’s or the Congregational). We even knew each other’s phone conversations, because phones were on a “party line”. Importantly, neighbors were there for the celebrations, like weddings and births; for daily routines, like watching each other’s kids, or having a beer after work, or just having small talk across the fence. Neighbors were relied upon to aid us in our emergencies, like cuts and broken arms and injuries needing immediate attention; and finally, for the tragedies, like funerals. Neighbors brought in soup and pasta to the aggrieved and showed sympathy. Neighborhoods in the countryside shared the same spirit, where everyone knew each other 5 miles up and down the Page Green Road and Virgil were the center of life. . In high school, we read the story “Our Town”. Well, Cortland was our town!
Dad dealt with bullies fathers. Circa 1962
DEALING WITH BULLIES
When I was a boy and walking up Elm Street, two bullies stepped from an alley and told me that I had to pay them a nickel every day to walk to school safely, and if I told on them, I had to pay a dime each day. Getting home, my parents quickly saw my distress and had me tell them what was wrong. The main bully lived directly across the block and his father and mine both worked at the same factory. My father called up his father and told him that if I paid even one penny to walk to school safely, he was going to come over and knock all his teeth out. The bully’s father quickly backed down. The next thing we heard was a yell to the bully “get you’re ass down here”, then wap-wap-wap from a belt and cries of anguish. I never heard from that bully again. Thanks, Dad.
NIGHT AT THE DRYDEN DRIVE-IN
Events that were unpleasant at the time can seem hilarious in hindsight. Back in the early 1960’s, Cortland families loaded in the car on Saturday night and took off for the drive-in theater. One such weekend night, Clarence, my pop, loaded us up and we rode over to the Dryden Drive-In Theater, ten miles away on Rte. 13 on the other side of Dryden. The kids played on the swings as the sun went down and the drive-in parking spaces filled up. Many cars no doubt had lovers out on a date night. As the movie got under way, the kids settled down and went to sleep. Sometime after dark, Clarence discovered that he had a flat tire. He roused the kids so they could unload from the car while he jacked up it up and changed the tire. He had a spare tire and a jack, but no jack handle. In those days, all cars had the same style jack and jack handle. Jeanette told Clarence to just go knock on windows and borrow one. With some chagrin, he started going car-to-car, looking in and then knocking on windows, sometimes interrupting couples in romantic moments. Signaling to roll down the window, he asked, “Sorry to interrupt, but do you have a jack handle I can borrow?”. After several wide-eyed young men angrily told him to go to hell, or worse, he gave up on asking for a jack handle. He packed the kids up again and drove home on a flat tire. After a mile, the tire was smoking and filling the car with black smoke. After another mile, the rim was bent. Riding a badly deformed rim, they clunked and smoked their way through Dryden and Cortland to home that night. It was a night at the drive-in to remember.
FREE AIR
“Need air in your tires, sir?” That phrase went out of style by the 1950s, but at least the air was free for a few decades. Dozens of gas stations around Cortland had this air pump hanging outside and ready to use. Car tires still had inner tubes in those days. Many shade-tree mecahnics spent a Saturday pulling out the inner tube, fixing it with a glue-on patch, and then blowing it back up with a hand pump. It needed enough pressure to get to a gas station. Blowing up a tire by hand is a lot of work that could be shortened if they could get to the gas station. And air was always ree.
TOO MUCH GAS!
The story started with Bar-B-Q potato chips as a snack on a road trip family made from Cortland to Indiana in 1962 . All of us were packed in the Ford Fairlane station wagon. A bag of Bar-B-Q potato chips sat in the hot sun all day and got steamily aromatic. Eight-year-old Billy was in the back munching on the barbecue chips and tooting out his rear repeatedly. There is nothing worse than a Bar-B-Q potato chip fart in a confined space like a car. Every time one of Billy’s aromatic clouds drifted forward in the car, the car became like a gas chamber on wheels. Pop would give a short sharp whistle as a signal. Everyone scrambled to roll down windows, then they all yelled, ” take those chips away from him!”. The best that be said of that smelly ride was that the car had plenty of gas!
HE NEEDED A LAWN CHAIR, NOT PERFUEM
“When it rains, it pours. What is that an advertising jingle for what productt? “
That was the opening question in a telephone scam that WKRT-radio ran in the early 1970’s. When you answered their question correctly as “Morton Salt”, the radio station said excitedly “You Won! You Won!” SO, my uncle thought that he had won a gift pack worth $300, and all he had to do was pay was the printing cost of $20. He did. He That was a lot for a blue-collar man making $3/hour at the steel mill. WKRT’s “gift pack” was a worthless set of coupons. For example, one was for free admission to the Dryden Drive-In theater for drivers alone on a Monday night in October. Being honest and decent, and assuming that WKRT was, too, he tried to make the best of this deal. He took one of the coupons good for $25-off on a bottle of Louie D’Or Perfume to the department store and tried to trade it for a lawn chair he wanted. You can guess how they told him to sit on it.
CHRISTMAS TIME
CHRISTMAS BUS RIDE
In 1963 Cortland was booming and Christmas meant snowy hills, holiday cheer, and lots of presents. Then we moved to South Carolina, where Christmas traditions were more somber. That the South was just then beginning to prosper showed under the tree. For merriment, kids celebrated Christmas lighting firecrackers over smoldering fires in backyards that over looked wooded swamps under gray winter skies.
Spirits brightened in 1965 when I got a bus ticket back to Cortland for the holiday. Travelling alone by bus at age 15 was an adventure. The Greyhound loaded up with soldiers and students heading north. Everyone was in good cheer and as one student put it, “I’m putting back on my New York accent”. Cortland would be a winter wonderland.
On the first leg of the trip the bus stopped at every small town. Then it merged with an express up the coast. I settled in next to a black soldier for a long stretch to Washington, DC. Trouble was, his destination was the military hub in NC, not DC. He’d slept through his stop. Perhaps I was partially the blame for not nudging him awake 300 miles back. No doubt he made it back to camp and from there to Vietnam. I sometimes wonder if he made it back from there.
All passengers changed buses at Washington, DC. I stayed awake watching out for the denizens of the night who hang around bus stations. At dawn I got a morning view of the White House and boarded the express to Syracuse. The Interstates did not yet exist. It became a “local” bus after Binghamton and going up the hairpins curves on old Rte. 11 through Marathon. In Cortland bus depot was housed in the old train station on Central Ave. The crunch of snow, the twinkle of snowflakes, and the bright lights of Main Street were all welcoming as we pulled in.
Christmas week in Cortland was full of magic. Old friends came over and brought back the good times. Christmas day was full of gift giving, holiday dinner, family. The last evening, as a small group of friends we placed hands on an old Ouija board. We asked it to tell us our futures. A spell was cast.
The visit to Cortland ended back at the train station at night. Alone in that old and hallowed waiting area with its vaulted ceiling and worn oaken benches, I used a dime to play “Good Vibrations” on the music box. It still echoes in mind every Christmas.
YWCA’S IMMIGRANT CHRISTMAS PARTY
A MELODYLAND CHRISTMAS
Melodyland on South Main was owned by Mike and Anita Dilorio in the ‘50’s’ and 60’s. My grandfather Clint Congdon and Mike were friends who had worked together during WWII. Industry was booming in Cortland in those days. The Melodyland bar window looked out on the sprawling Wickwire Bros. factory complex across the street. Hard-drinking workers from Wickwire’s drank beer next door at Ivan’s, a gritty workman’s bar . Melodyland was more tasteful and pleasant. It was a family place where folks came in the back door, were greeted by Mike’s wife Anita, bought their pizza and drove it home.
At Christmas time in 1968, as my life was getting started and money was dear, but $3 for a pizza on Friday night could be squeezed out of the weekly paycheck. One snowy Christmastime Friday night, Anita was smiling more than usual when I stepped in to pick-up the pizza. Her son, John, came through the doorway with a beam on his face and a special gift of a bottle of wine to go with the pizza that night. Mike smiled in at us. In those days, that gift meant a lot. My eyes mist up over the memory.
Mike stood behind the bar, always quiet and subdued, and asking, “How’s your grandpa?”. I always answered, “Doing well, Mike’. The dining area at Melodyland was elegant in working class simplicity; and as spotlessly clean as any Italian mother’s kitchen; and romantically lit with soft Neapolitan orange, green and yellow lights. Despite the warmth, aromas, and the old-world charm, in those days they never had a crowd. Melodyland was too far off the beaten path of downtown Cortland. Until the new school was built, unless you were heading for Greek Peak or lived on Page Green Road, you might never find Melodyland. I’m glad granddad did. The 3rd and 4th generation owners, Maria and Lisa, commented on this story with additional details and photos from 50 years ago. Merry Christmas to the memories of Mike, Anita, and John.
COMMENT: Melodyland Chritmas was posted at Christmas-time several years in row. The post recieved over 1,500 likes and hundreds of comments. Here are some of them.
Lisa Reitano I am the 4th generation owner, with my mom, Maria (DiIorio) Reitano. I believe you are speaking of my grandparents, Mike and Anita, and of my father, John. That would be the time frame you are recalling. Thank you for the great post.
Reply from Allan C. Ardis You’re welcom. I accompanied my granddad Congdon when he went in to have a beer from Mike DiIorio. I knew your grandmother Anita Dilorio. She was always in the kitchen, near the backdoor that we came through. I remember John. The Congdons on Page Green Road still stop bu Melodyland once a week for pizza and greetings..
Lauren DiLucci Best place in town ❤ Lisa Reitano Maria Reitano I was just reminiscing about my Macarena days with the old juke 😂pre-ipod entertainment
Mike’s wife was Anita….
Look at the date on the wine bottle
I loved to stop in after football games for a pizza. Best in town!
Charlotte Sunderland
Ronnie Dino’s wife family owned it for a whiile his first wife used to tend bar
My Aunt Ella Mae Aldrich used to own Ivan’s Next door
Allan C. Ardis — A copy of the photo from 1951 is being sent to me. It is a missing piece in my quilt of life. Thank you for the original post.
Allan C. Ardis — I have a picture about “Mrs. Durkee’s Tasty Bakes”– no idea of the date. I’d like to have it posted here but am technologically challenged. Could you help?
Allan, I have been under the weather for the past few days. Will get back to follow your postings. Many of them hit home with me.
Allan C. ArdisAuthor
See my post last week on Durkee’s Bakery. It drew 240 hits and 80 comments.
Best place in town Lisa Reitano Maria Reitano I was just reminiscing about my Macarena days with the old juke pre-ipod entertainment
What a sweet memory!! you don’t find much of that any more
Love all the pictures, we have been going there for over 50 years. Love it!
Kevin KabanukTop Contributor
Wonderful people and a wonderful restaurant
William R O’GormanTop Contributor
You are welcome
Thanks William 4 the great pics
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Lisa Reitano -Owner, Melodyloand
Glad you have fond memories. I am the 4th generation owner, with my mom, Maria (DiIorio) Reitano. I believe you are speaking of my grandparents, Mike and Anita, and of my father, John. That would be the time frame you are recalling. Thank you for the great post.
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I recognize the place but never had the pizza… my loss.
I love the pizza…..best you can get!
Tim Contento Top Contributor
I believe that’s where my parents met
still my fav
Love Melodyland!
Melodyland had the best pizza!!
What a lovely story.
Edward Perelka Top Contributor
I haven’t been lately but I’ve heard Melodyland still IS Good!
So many places in Cortland that had such good Italian food…
Love it I miss the homemade pasta
Very nice sentiment.
Edward Perelka Top Contributor
That would mean Even More Today!!!
More Comments
Terri Been: My mother lived upstairs for years. Love their pizza!
Laura Boyce Dayton: Whites was down further on Owego Street. It was below Park Street
Carol Seyfried Taylor: Oh this brings back so many great memories with Larry and friends. Our favorite hangout! Sure do miss their pizzas and all our great friends. Mike, Mama , John and Maria were so sweet ! Great friends!❤️
Robert Lieber: Drank a lot Pabst blue ribbon there 3 bottles one dollar wow world’s gone eacky
Alfred Evenden: MELODY
Kim DeGraw: I remember this building even though I grew up on the other side of town.
Karren Pierce: Diane Vecchio’s article in the Journal of American Ethnic History said that Maria Di Iorio emigrated from Santi Cosma e Damiano to join her husband Gaspare in Cortland.. She started a neighborhood restaurant on the first floor of her home. The fami lived on the second floor. The Melodyland Restaurant original was established when Gaspare turned his butcher shop into a restaurant & bar. Gaspare couldn’t get a food and liquor license because he had been convicted of bootlegging during Prohibition. Maria got the licenses in her name. With that, the Melodyland opened in 1932 and the rest is history . We’re still enjoying the
Melodyland many years later.
| Melodyand Christas Carol |
THE BEST OF TIMES< THE WORST OF TIMES
a
In the prosperous years when all the factories hummed, the Cortland Christmas morning was about having time off from work, watching the kids open presents, having a white Christmas snowfall outside, and a big family dinner. All that was great, but the sharpest memories are the disagreeable and painful ones. One Christmas morning at 2 a.m. a neighbor on Elm Street called over for help because her husband came home drunk and abusive. A family down the street was depressed because their father lost his teeth down the toilet at the company Christmas party. Our father was stabbed on our front porch. We were cozy at home on River St. Pop was playing a guitar as the kids sat around him. A neighbor asked him out on the porch for what he thought was a Christmas drink. The neighbor pulled a knife and stabbed him in the back. Pop threw him in the street. The guy crawled away to another neighbor’s house. Pop came in bloody. Aunt Arlene who lived next door came over and bandaged him up. Neighbors helped neighbors, especially on Christmas. The police were not called. They would have brushed it off as just another domestic dispute on the east end. (This story was not posted to avoid saddening someone else’s Christmas.)
ARDIS HISTORY
Mike Allan Jeanette Clarence Steve Bill. Cheryl took the photo.
I also wrote an ARDIS HISTORY that starts in Cortland and moves to our life in South Carolina. It is available on request. Allan C Ardis
RIVER STREET
75 River Street , Then as now.
Our house at 75 River Street in Cortland. NY, was built in 1955. We moved in new. Next door to the right is Uncle Kaiser Ardis’s house. We had seven in our family and they had five so it was a busy and fun time. The forge shop hammer room where the men worked was a block away. Durkee’s bakery where mom worked was a few blocks up Elm St. The school was two blocks. Life was good.
WINTER SPORTS
SUMMER VACATION TRIP
Rummage sales were a Saturday morning eventt for parents trying to clothe baby-boomers in large families. Memories of the 1930’s Depression were still there. By 1955, good times were back, they wanted their kids to look in-style at school. The best way to stretch clothing dollars was rummage sales. Mothers checked the newspaper for the weekend sales. The best were at the St Mary’s and St. Anthony’s Catholic churches. The Italians dressed well and Catholics were generous. The problem was getting clothes that fit. Often they were just close. For boys, the Continental-style pants fit tight without a belt. That was okay until the boy grew taller and thinner and the trousers started falling down. If pants were a little short at the ankle, they were called “high-water pants” or Capris. Decades later, I was still wearing such pants on a Saturday morning in the office. A young man asked me if Capri was back in style. Well, thanks, that tells me it is time to buy new slacks.
RETIRING TO FLORIDA
These Cortland Reminisces posts are poignant for those of us who retired to Florida. But, boy, February in Cortland sure makes Florida look enticing!
For the pleasure of getting out of the snow to someplace warm, be prepared to make these changes::
Trade beautiful white hills for green swamps. Some say it looks like Heaven.
Trade hot sausage sandwiches for Cuban sandwiches. Cubans are made with sour chicken and salami. Some like them, some don’t.
Good Italian food is hard to find. Trade spaghetti with meatballs for Pollo Chicken with yellow rice
Tarde a house for a trailer. Florida has many thousands of them; some nice, some so-sot.
Swap out blizzards for hurricanes. Good trade if your house is not in the path of the storm.
Trade five months of snow for constant rain. Heavy rain and light sprinkles come and go all day. Never can get the intermittent windshield wipers set just right.
Trade house flies for lovebugs. Why are they called lovebugs? They come in attached pairs. Think about it.
Old pals and haunts are gone. New acquaintances are made, but they keep dying.
I like it here. What do you think?