The house next to ours was where Johnny Daurio grew up. The day we moved in his mother asked if we had seen her child, who was 3 years old and had escaped from the large wooden packing box obtained from the mill that served as his outdoor playpen. Johnny had escaped, but soon showed up in his yard. He was the only child, born rather late in life to his mother, Gertie, and his father Pete. His childhood was challenging, and there were no available social services as today, but he was a smart child and overcame a lot of difficulties. After his parents were gone, George K. bought the house and completely renovated it, as he did many other houses in the village. He rented it at first to a man named Rivenburgh; he was quite particular and I remember his being involved in a driveway use dispute with Sara McMahon, who used to park her car there. Later a young family, Ethel and Ben Mazur and their baby daughter lived in the house for a time. She was from the South and was a lovely person; my mother really liked her and her baby. I even babysat little Lisa on occasion. Eventually, the house was bought by the family who still lives there. We know them.
Our old house: I could conjure up a million memories, some of which I have already recorded, so I'll forbear. In addition to its history, all 3 of us lived most of our childhoods there, leaving only when we got married and moved out. Most of the dreams I have even to this day take place in that house.
When we moved to the village, the commercial building next to us was vacant, or so I recall. We knew it had once been a gas station because the concrete base for the pumps was still there. In those days, any place where there were no adults present was considered free property for kids. And so it was there. There was an open field for playing cowboys, even a large hollow area which was considered a canyon, and a hill for sledding. Of course no one ever objected. A few years later, it became the Fisk and Boom Company; they made and sold cinder blocks, which were displayed right out to the sidewalk area in front, and after dark, who knew what dangers lurked in those dark stacks of blocks. After that business closed, a man opened a gas station there again, for a brief time. I don't remember his name.
Located near the corner was the impressive Valley Inn, owned by the Hector Vincelette family. They had a son, Frankie, and a beautiful daughter Rosemary, who at one time studied in Paris. My parents would go there on New Year's Eve with Uncle Frank and Aunt Mary, who was friends with Mrs. V.
And of course the Post Office Building, where Mary Farnan and Carolyn Edwards and Dot Carroll all were employed at some time. Billy O'Neill delivered the mail from there but we had a Post Office Box, so we picked up our own mail, from Box 18. There was a downstairs apartment where Nora and Tom McMahon lived. He was brother to Sara's husband Jack, and Tom was a fastidious groundskeeper, with areas of gardens in the small back yard. There was an upstairs apartment where a few years later, the Vaszi family lived, Helen and Steve and their children Stephen and Eileen. My mother watched those kids when Helen got a job at the mill. (Later on Sandy and John Dyer and little Sean lived in one apartment in the building and Sharon and Bob lived in the apartment next door. Good times.
Not exactly on the street, but actually true in a way. The back yard of Angelo and Carmen Rospo's house abutted the field area behind the garage building. Their yard had a high open mesh iron fence around it. Playing in the field as we did, we heard a child's voice calling to us from behind the fence, a small girl. She told us her name was Lucille, but we heard Little Seal, and that's who we thought she was. We would chat through the fence, and sometimes we would enter her yard through a narrow passage at the top of the property, though she was not allowed to go out of the yard. When her parents were at work in the Tavern, Jackie Vickery babysat her and her younger brother Leo. Dorothy and Lucille became good friends later on, and she would come to our house and yard like the rest of the kids.
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