I am Frank Barone, one of five children born during the Great Depression to Bruno and Jennie Barone. My birth date is February 28, 1928. Times were tough. Once a month the Catholic sisters, who ran Marydell Camp in Upper Nyack, sent to our house a potato sack filled with breads and cakes that were a couple days old. They were “goodies” to us. We looked forward to it. I remember Mr. Ridland was the name of the man who drove the truck.
My mother’s two brothers, Uncle Charlie and Uncle Tally Pugliese, were always fun to be around. We use to play pool and a lot of other games. In the winter, Uncle Charlie would pull my brothers and I around Rockland Lake on a big, long, sled he had attached with a chain to his car. His car was called a “Terra Plane”. I don’t know what make of car it was but the front of it reminded me of an airplane. At that time, like all cars, you had to use a stick shift. Uncle Charlie loved to kid around. He was able to put the car in a certain gear, pull the shift stick out, and place it on the seat. We’d ask him what he was doing, and he’d answer, “Oh nothing!” When he needed to change gears, he put the stick shift back where it belonged. He was always doing funny stuff like that. While I was growing up, family was always together.
Another winter memory is of my brother, Rocky and I. Once, when the ice looked really thick, we went walking out on the Hudson River. We must have walked out too far. I heard the ice cracking and I yelled to Rocky. He grabbed my hand and off we went. It felt like we were flying. I didn’t feel anything under my feet until we hit the shore
When we lived at 38 Prospect Street, one street up from Franklin Street where the train tracks were, I’d hear them revving up around 5:00 a.m. From #38 we moved to 47 Prospect Street where the trains were even louder.
Mom always had our lunch pails ready when we went to Liberty Street School. We had many friends there, among them Maxie Sidoli, Mickey and Frank Conace, George Chalsen, Micky and Jimmy Scheno, to name a few. In those days we played street games near our homes. We had fun with “kick-the-can”, “hide-and seek” and “stick ball”. Roller-skating was one of our favorites. We loved skating on the slate sidewalks that went down a hill. Often we went down to Memorial Park in town and played baseball.
On the weekends, or when school was closed, I sometimes would go to work with Pop. I probably was about 12 or 13 years old. One of my jobs was to help him mix the cement. One job was at Sneden’s Landing, south on Rt. 9W, by the Hudson River. Today, many celebrities, like Al Pacino, live in that area. Pop was putting up a wall for Katherine Cornell’s home. She was a famous actress. I would mix the sand, gravel, water and dry cement with a hoe. I also helped carry cement blocks to where Pop needed them. It was hard work. Pop was all business when he was on the job. He didn’t waste time. The only time we relaxed was when we stopped for lunch to eat the sandwiches Mom made for us. They were carried in a metal lunchbox.
I remember sometimes helping Pop patrol the neighborhood as part of civil defense during World War II. All the dark shades needed to be down. The lights needed to be turned low. There was a curfew for kids. When the fire whistle blew at 8:45 pm, we had to be home. If you weren’t, people patrolling would bring you home.
Mr. Lapenta’s grocery store was on the corner of Franklin Street and Depew Avenue. Mom had an open account there. Shortly after we got our first telephone, if she wanted something from the store, she would tell me she was going to call it in and I should go pick it up. I remember I got to the store while Mr. Lapenta was still talking to mom on the phone. I use to try and get there before she had finished giving her order.
I didn’t like school and left when I was 16. My brother, Rocky, worked at Robert Gair, in Piermont. I went there and got a job in the Glue Room but I didn’t like it. From there, I got a job at Lederle Laboratories in Pearl River. I really didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Soon after, I decided I wanted to go into the military service. I was 17.
My friend, Eppie Margotta, lived in Piermont. He wanted to try to get in the Merchant Marines. I decided to go with him. We had to sign up in New York City and have physicals. He was accepted but I wasn’t heavy enough. I only weighed 122. You needed to weigh 125.
Not long after, I decided to try to get into the Navy. I thought I’d like to be on the water, instead of the ground forces, running through dirt. I also heard that the Navy had better food. I went back to New York City again to try and pass the weight requirement. I bought bananas at a fruit stand and began eating them right up until the last minute. The scale said 125! I had made it. After that, I had to go into the bathroom to throw up.
I entered the Navy on October 24, 1945. I took the train to Newburgh and remember walking up a steep hill to the Recruiting Station in the Post Office. I was sworn in. I was sent to Camp Perry, in Williamsburg, Virginia for 12 weeks of basic training. I was assigned to Shoemaker, California. We left Virginia by troop train, California bound, where we would get our orders. It took five days and six nights. A terrible accident happened on our way there that I will never forget. As we were going through Oakland, California, the train suddenly stopped and we saw sparks. We were held up for almost two hours. Later, we were told that the train had hit a car and two people were killed.
It was January and I only spent a few weeks in California. I was so surprised how cold it got during the night. Beautiful in the daytime and the first time I ever saw a palm tree.
Although it was the end of World War II, there was still fighting going on in Europe. It was mentioned that I would be assigned to a landing craft. I was in the Reserve Navy. We were told that the Reserves would be discharged in six months.
In California, Navy officials told me that if I signed over for another two years into the regular Navy, I would get $300 plus a 30-day leave and I would be assigned to Brooklyn. It sounded good to me. I accepted the offer and reported to the Brooklyn Receiving Station. It was an enormous facility where people were being discharged and assigned to other duties. They asked me if I knew anything about printing. I didn’t, but I said I did. I LEARNED FAST! I had to run the machines. I met many nice Navy men. One, who was in charge, was only about five feet tall. He wore elevator shoes. I don’t know how he got into the Navy. They were so strict about other things. He told me he was going to be discharged. They asked me to take his place. I couldn’t believe it. I was only a Seaman, Second Class but I took over. One day a Chief Petty Officer was assigned to the Print Shop while waiting for his discharge. I asked him to sit and wait a while for instructions. He had 30 years in the service and was just passing time until his discharge date. It seemed strange, me telling him what to do.
While stationed in Brooklyn, I often went home on the weekends by subway and bus. I’d usually fall asleep on the subway but usually woke up in time to get off. Once I didn’t. It was dark. I looked out of the car and there was another subway car parked next to me. I was locked in. I started banging on the window. Finally a man appeared with a lantern and asked me what I was doing there. He let me out. That was a scary situation.
From there I worked in the U.S. Naval Facilities on Hart’s Island in the Bronx where Potter’s Field cemetery was located. Unclaimed bodies from the city were brought to the island by tugboat. At least 500 pine boxes were brought to the island each Wednesday. Prisoners from the city would unload them. The Navy had a prison on the island for AWOL military men. I ran the switchboard in the Navy facility where there were living quarters with a kitchen and food. It was a creepy place at night.
I received my Honorable Discharge from the Navy on January 5, 1948 at the USN Receiving Station, Brooklyn.
When I got back home, my brother, Charlie, was in the Army and Rocky had been discharged from the Army. My uncles owned Nyack Plumbing and Heating Company. I worked with them for a while. At that time houses were being moved so that the Tappan Zee Bridge could be built. We removed plumbing fixtures from basements. It wasn’t easy work. Uncle Charlie bought one of the houses that were being moved and placed it on his Piermont Avenue lot.
One night in January 1948, I went to a basketball game at the old Nyack High School on Fifth and Midland Avenues. That’s where I met my future wife, Lorraine Perreault. She and I were sitting in the bleachers and we started a conversation. I was 19 and she was 14. My 20th birthday would be in February and her 15th in March.
We started seeing each other casually in Nyack. Lorraine worked at Whalen’s Drug Store at the Soda Fountain, after school. Many of us would hang out at Schmitt’s Ice Cream Parlor where there was a jukebox. Lorraine would sometimes stop after work before catching a bus to Central Nyack where she lived. A couple of months later, we wanted to start dating but I would have to meet her parents. I was afraid they would throw me out because I was 5 years older. They didn’t.
Our first date was for the St. Patrick’s Annual Dance held in St. Ann’s School Auditorium on March 20, 1948, her 15th birthday. The only reason we were allowed to go was because her parents’ upstairs tenants were also going. Lorraine often babysat for their two children.
In Lorraine’s home, you didn’t spend much time at the table eating. One weekend she said she would make me spaghetti. She served me Chef Boyardee out of a box!! I tried not to hurt her feelings and forced myself to eat some of it but told her I would take her to my house for pasta. When she came to eat, it was a culture shock for her—a good one. She couldn’t get over the fact that we would eat and talk for hours over a meal. She enjoyed it and never was able to eat Chef Boyardee again.
Lorraine and I dated for five years. Her parents were great people. They both worked at Rockland State Hospital. Her mother was an Occupational Therapist. Her dad worked in the Accounting office. Each summer, they rented a small cottage at the Jersey shore for their yearly two-week vacation. They always took me with them. We spent many happy days there.
She graduated from high school at 17 and soon after we became engaged. Lorraine wanted to learn how to cook Italian food so she came to Mom’s kitchen on several occasions, watched and learned. She came with me to Italian weddings. In those days they were held either in the firehouses, the Venice Restaurant, or Johnny’s Wonder Bar. She became more and more impressed and absorbed in our Italian customs. They had been totally unfamiliar to her.
We were married on April 20, 1952 in St. Ann’s Church.
She invited Mom and Pop for dinner early in the marriage and made lasagna, meatballs and zeppole. Pop complimented her on her cooking which made her very proud. She turned out to be a great Italian cook because of Mom’s training.
We have three children, Steven (born 9/3/56), Linda (born 2/14/58 and Shelley (born 9/6/60). Steve is married to Tracey Carpino; Linda to Bill (Buff) Blosser and Shelley married Patrick Cochrane. Cancer took Patrick from us on October 13, 2004. It has been an indescribable loss. He was 48.
Steven and Linda were born at the Nyack Hospital while we were living in the first home we owned in Garnerville. Around 1953, we picked out our corner lot on the empty mountainside of Rt. 202 and watched it being built by Jerry Mastromarino. He built what would be called “low cost housing” today. The homes had no basements. We had two bedrooms, a kitchen and living room and cost $7,700. I believe we needed a $ 500 deposit. It was difficult for us to come up with the money and harder to get a mortgage. We met wonderful couples in that small development. In fact, our brother-in-law, Ken’s sister, Virginia Rowell Levan, lived two doors from us. She and Lorraine worked as waitresses at many Italian weddings held at Johnny’s Wonder Bar on Rt. 9W in Rockland Lake. Steven, our son, and Patty Ann, her daughter, were just babies.
Here on Midland Avenue in Nyack, where we have lived since 1958, we had many family gatherings in our small backyard when all the children (cousins) were young. We even managed to put up a small above ground pool surrounded by a deck. Pop took a small maple tree from my sister and brother-in-law’s (Angie and Jack Babcock) back yard and planted it in front of our house. We love that tree! He built us an outdoor fireplace for barbecuing. Lorraine’s family and mine ate, played bocce, socialized and thoroughly enjoyed our time together. We took many 8 mm movies. Steve and I have put them on videos. They have become a nostalgic record of those wonderful years that passed much too quickly.
I was a Pump Station Mechanic in the Town of Orangetown Sewer Department for 27 years, retiring in July 1995. My job involved checking all underground pump stations and above ground buildings. I had to keep the "flow" flowing. Someone has to do it. Lorraine would jokingly call me the "Art Carney of Orangetown". This will make sense to those of you old enough to have watched the weekly TV comedy called, "The Honeymooners", starring Jackie Gleason. Jackie was a bus driver and Art a worker in the sewer deparment.
Lorraine retired from the new Nyack High School on Rt. 9W in Upper Nyack in October 1995 after 32 years. Out of necessity, she began working in July 1963 at the old Nyack High School, one block from our home on Midland Avenue, across from the Nyack Hospital. She was the principal's secretary which required her to work full-time, 12 months a year, with a two week vacation. Steven was 7, Linda 5, and Shelley 2. Obtaining child-care was always a problem, Her first boss was Mr. Rittershausen. He had been her principal when she graduated in June 1950. She doesn't know exactly how many principals followed his retirement but there had to be several."
We have five grandchildren. The Blosser children: Willie (18) and Lori (14). The Cochrane children: Chrissy (22), Lauren (16) and Ryan (14). We were blessed with a great granddaughter, Alana Cochrane Halliday, on January 18, 2005. Christine is married to Andy and they live in Lancaster, Pa.
I am thankful for my many blessings and memories and look forward to the July 2006 Pugliese/Barone Family Reunion.
