The Creedmoor Civic Association
Memories of a Small Town
by Walter Audubon
Our family moved to Bellerose from Queens Village in 1938, during the Great Depression. Many people were unemployed and some resorted to selling apples on the streets. My father was a foreign tax accountant for the old American Express Company, and was fortunate enough to be retained during this terrible period. The homes on my block had been built in 1927‑28 but some people couldn’t afford to buy these mostly wood frame houses, so they were rented from banks or mortgage companies. Today most of the houses are owned. In the 1940s most homes were heated with coal and a furnace. The buildings had coal bins in the basements and coal chutes with an outside entry, for deliveries from Frank R. Smith coal yards a short distance down Rocky Hill Road (later paved and called Braddock Avenue). The coal dust filtered thru much of the basement, and we had to make regular visits there to shovel coal in the furnace. It was very dirty work and the heating changes later to oil and gases were welcome ones!
The houses had a compartment built into one side of them for milk receptacles. Early each morning the Renken man’s milk wagon and horse could be heard clop, clopping down the street to make deliveries. Unfortunately, the horse would often make his own unsanitary delivery in the street! Around noon every weekday the Krug bakery truck would come through to take care of its customers. As a boy I marveled at the little noise it made, and was told it was an electric‑powered vehicle. Regularly each day Romanelli’s junk wagon would pass my house, seeking items that had been discarded for sanitation pick‑up. Finally, there was the Italian fruit and vegetable truck offering fresh items daily, as well as a chance for neighbors to have friendly chats.
Neighborhood stores were conveniently located just a block away on Braddock Avenue. On the corner was Mittleman’s candy store, where a candy bar cost a nickel and a tiny box of two Top’s chiclets could be purchased for a penny. Next door was the German butcher who sold all kinds of fresh meats, butter, and eggs. Then came Galati’s shoe repair where one could get shoes fixed at reasonable prices. Most soles and heels were of leather as the artificial materials used today were unknown then. Following Galati’s was Seekamp’s delicatessen, serving all kinds of hot and cold foods. Just after that was the German bakery, selling various fresh baked goods. Near the corner was Casey’s Bohack, a large grocery store managed by Tom Casey. During the Christmas season the air was filled with the pleasant smell of spruce trees, stacked for sale at the entrance, along with peppermint candy canes and little green tree‑shaped, mint flavored candies. Immediately on and around the corner of the block was Phillips’ drugstore. Finally, on the side street adjoining the candy store was Nick’s barber shop, where one could obtain a haircut or a shave. Almost all of the necessary goods and services were in one place.
In spite of the Depression, our area was then in the early stages of development. Many corner lots on Braddock Avenue were for sale. On one corner of our street was a huge lot extending an entire block between 238th and 237th Street As young children we enjoyed climbing high on the big advertising billboard that stood alone on the property. A well‑worn path allowed us to take a shortcut to our stores. And occasionally my friends and I would play a game of touch football on the lot. Today that lot is the site of the Bellerose Post Office. The opposite corner was occupied by vacant stores, containing broken windows, and a great deal of dust and dirt, and an open invitation to curious children like me. The site has long since been rebuilt into a brick building containing apartments.
During the early forties, notwithstanding the effects of World War II, there were many sources of recreation and entertainment for youngsters. There were many weeded vacant lots along Braddock Avenue where we could play Cowboys and Indians, or explore an abandoned concrete foundation in one area. At the east end of Braddock stood the Bellerose Theatre, where regularly on Saturday matinees one could see a full‑length motion picture, a cartoon, and an exciting 15‑minute serial that always left us anticipating the next chapter‑‑‑ all for just 25 cents!
Occasionally, after church on Sundays, our grandpa would take us in his new Hudson automobile to watch the small propeller‑driven planes take off and land at Roosevelt Field, where years earlier aviator Charles Lindbergh had taken off for his famous transatlantic flight to Paris.
Television had not yet appeared and the main source of indoor entertainment was that electronic wonder, the radio. After school each weekday, in the late afternoon and evening, my ears would be glued to the speaker of our old RCA standing in the living room. I would listen to serials such as Terry and the Pirates, Jack Armstrong, and Sky King, announced by a young man named Mike Wallace, the very same one who later became a famous television journalist. The serials were broadcast with commercials by the large cereal and soap companies of the day. To keep the attention of their young listeners from time to time they would offer incentives related to the story lines, requesting box tops and a small sum for postage. Among these were the Captain Midnight decoding ring and Jack Armstrong Tru‑flight model airplanes, all of which are now collectors’ items worth much more than their original cost. Some of the comic strips of the day mirrored the characters of these radio serials.
With the exception of a brief aborted landing at Amagansett, Long Island had no direct contact with the war going on in Europe. However, we were subjected to government rationing, in the form of food and gasoline stamps. Additionally, people were asked to return bacon fat to our local butchers, for use in the war effort. But the single thing I remember most was the seemingly endless drone of military planes flying night after night over my home. Some nights, sleep was impossible. And as a young boy I always had the fear that one of them might fall from the sky and crash into my house.
There have been many changes in Bellerose during the past seventy years. The radio has been largely displaced by television. The old telephones are being replaced by cell phones. The garages are used almost exclusively for storage rather than automobiles, making street parking a nightmare. Neighbors use machines to dry clothing rather than the old clotheslines in the rear yards. Propeller‑driven commercial planes have been replaced by jets that fly faster and carry many more passengers. Large shopping malls nearby have provided overwhelming competition for small local shops. Finally, the ethnic make‑up of the area has changed drastically. Early emigrants from western Europe have passed away or moved on, and have been replaced by newer residents from Latin America and Asia.
The houses had a compartment built into one side of them for milk receptacles. Early each morning the Renken man’s milk wagon and horse could be heard clop, clopping down the street to make deliveries. Unfortunately, the horse would often make his own unsanitary delivery in the street! Around noon every weekday the Krug bakery truck would come through to take care of its customers. As a boy I marveled at the little noise it made, and was told it was an electric‑powered vehicle. Regularly each day Romanelli’s junk wagon would pass my house, seeking items that had been discarded for sanitation pick‑up. Finally, there was the Italian fruit and vegetable truck offering fresh items daily, as well as a chance for neighbors to have friendly chats.
Neighborhood stores were conveniently located just a block away on Braddock Avenue. On the corner was Mittleman’s candy store, where a candy bar cost a nickel and a tiny box of two Top’s chiclets could be purchased for a penny. Next door was the German butcher who sold all kinds of fresh meats, butter, and eggs. Then came Galati’s shoe repair where one could get shoes fixed at reasonable prices. Most soles and heels were of leather as the artificial materials used today were unknown then. Following Galati’s was Seekamp’s delicatessen, serving all kinds of hot and cold foods. Just after that was the German bakery, selling various fresh baked goods. Near the corner was Casey’s Bohack, a large grocery store managed by Tom Casey. During the Christmas season the air was filled with the pleasant smell of spruce trees, stacked for sale at the entrance, along with peppermint candy canes and little green tree‑shaped, mint flavored candies. Immediately on and around the corner of the block was Phillips’ drugstore. Finally, on the side street adjoining the candy store was Nick’s barber shop, where one could obtain a haircut or a shave. Almost all of the necessary goods and services were in one place.
In spite of the Depression, our area was then in the early stages of development. Many corner lots on Braddock Avenue were for sale. On one corner of our street was a huge lot extending an entire block between 238th and 237th Street As young children we enjoyed climbing high on the big advertising billboard that stood alone on the property. A well‑worn path allowed us to take a shortcut to our stores. And occasionally my friends and I would play a game of touch football on the lot. Today that lot is the site of the Bellerose Post Office. The opposite corner was occupied by vacant stores, containing broken windows, and a great deal of dust and dirt, and an open invitation to curious children like me. The site has long since been rebuilt into a brick building containing apartments.
During the early forties, notwithstanding the effects of World War II, there were many sources of recreation and entertainment for youngsters. There were many weeded vacant lots along Braddock Avenue where we could play Cowboys and Indians, or explore an abandoned concrete foundation in one area. At the east end of Braddock stood the Bellerose Theatre, where regularly on Saturday matinees one could see a full‑length motion picture, a cartoon, and an exciting 15‑minute serial that always left us anticipating the next chapter‑‑‑ all for just 25 cents!
Occasionally, after church on Sundays, our grandpa would take us in his new Hudson automobile to watch the small propeller‑driven planes take off and land at Roosevelt Field, where years earlier aviator Charles Lindbergh had taken off for his famous transatlantic flight to Paris.
Television had not yet appeared and the main source of indoor entertainment was that electronic wonder, the radio. After school each weekday, in the late afternoon and evening, my ears would be glued to the speaker of our old RCA standing in the living room. I would listen to serials such as Terry and the Pirates, Jack Armstrong, and Sky King, announced by a young man named Mike Wallace, the very same one who later became a famous television journalist. The serials were broadcast with commercials by the large cereal and soap companies of the day. To keep the attention of their young listeners from time to time they would offer incentives related to the story lines, requesting box tops and a small sum for postage. Among these were the Captain Midnight decoding ring and Jack Armstrong Tru‑flight model airplanes, all of which are now collectors’ items worth much more than their original cost. Some of the comic strips of the day mirrored the characters of these radio serials.
With the exception of a brief aborted landing at Amagansett, Long Island had no direct contact with the war going on in Europe. However, we were subjected to government rationing, in the form of food and gasoline stamps. Additionally, people were asked to return bacon fat to our local butchers, for use in the war effort. But the single thing I remember most was the seemingly endless drone of military planes flying night after night over my home. Some nights, sleep was impossible. And as a young boy I always had the fear that one of them might fall from the sky and crash into my house.
There have been many changes in Bellerose during the past seventy years. The radio has been largely displaced by television. The old telephones are being replaced by cell phones. The garages are used almost exclusively for storage rather than automobiles, making street parking a nightmare. Neighbors use machines to dry clothing rather than the old clotheslines in the rear yards. Propeller‑driven commercial planes have been replaced by jets that fly faster and carry many more passengers. Large shopping malls nearby have provided overwhelming competition for small local shops. Finally, the ethnic make‑up of the area has changed drastically. Early emigrants from western Europe have passed away or moved on, and have been replaced by newer residents from Latin America and Asia.