"Lou Strauss, Grocer"

As part of a family, it was almost a duty to help one another by one means or another. One of the ways I was able to contribute to the family was to help out at my Uncle Lou's grocery store. This was before the supermarkets made their debut. "Lou Strauss, Grocer" was the proud name that was emblazoned on the sign over the store's entrance. One might consider the store a neighborhood store, although it was located on a main street (away from downtown). There were other stores on the block: grocery stores, tailors, dry cleaners, pharmacies, a restaurant/bar, a hardware store....

Some of my duties included waiting on customers, cleaning the dust off the top of cans on the shelf, replenishing stock, helping deliver groceries, cleaning the toilet bowl, taking grocery orders over the phone for later delivery, and sweeping out the store and the sidewalk in front.

Waiting on customers was an art. My Uncle Lou did not like to wait on some customers -- that kind of taxed his patience. I would have the "honor" of waiting on those customers. I guess I was more tolerant. One of the customers was an elderly Jewish lady who spoke little or no English. My Uncle Lou said, "All you have to know is the phrase, 'Voss nacht vilter?' which was supposed to mean, "What comes next?" This little old lady (with her auburn wig) would look at me like I didn't know what I was talking about when I uttered that statement. Anyway, she would point towards different objects that she needed and we fumbled our way through the situation somewhat successfully.

Adding up the cost of the items that were purchased was not done on an adding machine or a cash register; it was done by pencil on a paper bag. The addition was done by the person waiting on the customer -- in this case, me. Each item was carefully put aside on the counter after the price was recorded on the paper bag. The sum was then calculated and recorded on the paper bag. Then the amount was punched into the round keys of the cash register. The handle on the side of the cash register was then turned until the cash drawer opened. There was no indication, on the register, how much change was to be given back -- all that was done in my head.

One of the things I liked to do was grind coffee in the coffee grinder and smell the aroma. Another aroma I found tantalizing was the smell of the dill pickles my uncle used to make. I could lift the cover of the container and smell the spices combined in the mix. My salivary glands reacted to this pleasure and I could hardly wait to bite into a succulent kosher dill.

Delivery of the groceries: when people phoned in their order I would write the items on an order pad. Then, the order would be assembled on the back counter. The items were then put into a cardboard box. (These boxes were from canned goods that had been emptied out and put on shelves.) The ordered items were carefully loaded into the box so that the softer items were always put on top. The boxes for all the orders were then loaded onto a panel truck and delivered to the customer. My Uncle Milton (Uncle Lou's brother, as well as my father's brother -- one more brother was Uncle Aaron) also worked in the store, until he went into the Navy in WWII. Uncle Milton drove the panel truck and I would hoist the box of groceries on my shoulder and deliver the box to the customer. Usually, I would get a tip. A 25-cent tip was considered generous. My salary, by the way, was $10/week. I once got a raise to $12/week.

One of the chores I really did not like to perform was bringing cases of soft drinks from the storage basement up the stairs to the main store. The cases were made of wood and were heavy. Today, most of the storage is at ground level -- and hand dollies can be used more efficiently.

Being a family-run store, my Aunt Lil (Milton's wife) and sometimes her sister Jeanette would help out in the store. When my Uncle Lou married my Aunt Sally and went on a honeymoon, I was put in charge of the store -- still a teenager. My Aunt Lil was also in the store with me. By this time we had hired another teenager to help out. His name was Howie. Howie could now go down to the basement and carry up the stairs those dreaded soda pop wooden containers.

My uncle always had a cat in the store to keep the mice away. One time, the cat had kittens and was very protective of the kittens. A lady came in the store with her snippy, snappy dachshund. The cat took one look at the dog and leapt on the dog's back, digging in her claws. The dog was yelping and yipping so I thought I'd better disengage the two. I grabbed the cat to pull it off the dog's back -- and what did I get for my effort -- a cat's fang through my thumbnail into the flesh of my thumb. Very painful -- but the dog survived -- and so did I. From then on we made sure the cat was behind closed doors whenever the dog came in sight.

One of the more distasteful tasks was delivering the trash to the landfill (the dump). All vegetable cut-offs were stored outside in crates -- probably the crates the oranges and grapefruits came in. Once a week I would load the crates into the pick up truck and off to the dump we would go. The dump was the smelliest, most fly-infested place you would ever not want to be near. However, we unloaded the garbage as quickly as possible and got out of there in a hurry.

There were a lot of lessons to be learned while I was working at the grocery store. Salesmanship was one of them. One day a salesman came in with a new product similar to Bab-o or Comet or one of the cleaners. He used the cleaner on the top of the coffee grinder and it shined it right up. We kept a display of the cleaner on the counter -- so when a customer came in we would do the same pitch and actually sold some of this new product.

Sign painting on the store's front window was an art form. My Uncle Lou would mix up some Bon Ami and water and with a paint brush use the mixture to paint on the window the latest specials of the day.

The most important lesson to be learned in the store environment was the fact that personal attention was given to every customer. The store really wasn't large enough to allow customers to roam the aisles, so each customer received personal attention: rare nowadays in a supermarket. How times have changed.

The Warm Season

My favorite method for recalling Christmas memories is using a technique I learned while acting called "sense memory." That is, applying a feeling or emotion one has experienced in the past to a situation in the present. Try, with me, to recapture some of those feelings of Christmases past, when we, as children, enjoyed the winter -- before, as adults, our backs reflected pains of shoveling snow, or our minds rebelled at the thought of putting chains on our tires, or even driving on the icy roads, or we complained about putting on our galoshes (with buckles or zippers), heavy coats, scarves, ear muffs (remember those?), gloves, and hats... before we moved down to Florida to escape.

It is said, "We can never go back," and it's true. Things are never the same, except in our memories.

Remember walking to school through snow drifts that were up to our waists? (The easy way, of course, would have been to walk on the sidewalks, reasonably cleared off by horse-drawn wooden plows.) And remember, after arriving home from school, coming in the house with our clothes all wet from tumbling in the snow? I can recall wringing my gloves out, they were so wet, then putting them on the radiator. (Remember those cast-iron radiators?) The next day, the gloves would be stiff as a board. And how our hands would ache from the cold -- we used to run cold water from the faucet over them to thaw out.

And those impractical woolen mittens that, after being used to make snowballs, would have clumps of snow clinging to them... can you see them? Snowmen, snow forts, ice-skating, the masses of youngsters waiting, the masses of youngsters waiting for the ponds to freeze over with a layer thick enough to support all the enjoyment... then going to the adjoining lodge to drink hot chocolate... and the sounds of ice skate blades on the wooden floor of the lodge -- I can hear them.

The senses recall the taste and feel of icicles snapped from a low hanging eave. Remember how carefully you had to crack them off so they would remain intact?

I can remember walking through the cold winter air, breathing its purity, and looking at the stars, on my way to my favorite hill for some sleigh riding, never minding the long walk up the hill because of the thought of the thrilling ride going down, the air turning our faces a healthy pink.

And Christmas -- Christmas had a meaning for me then similar to today. Not having a Christian background, Christmas for me was vacation from school, the fun of winter, and presents. I liked to walk down the sidewalk at night and look at the lights of the Christmas trees and their reflections in the snow. It was kind of a lonely feeling, yet warm. And today, with children -- my children -- the fun of giving them fun, Christmas is nice.

The Mite

Over my face did crawl a mite
He had mountains to climb
For the furrows and moles are at a height
That took him a lot of time
He eventually found a forest where
He may have gotten lost
Not that there's too much hair
But much is covered with frost
The mite pushed on until he was felt
Then my hand searched him out
And a severe body blow he was dealt
Even my head shook from the clout
But he was gone -- I think
Maybe I should see a shrink

Newspaper Comics

In the 1930's, on a daily basis, the latest adventures of newspaper comic heroes were required reading for every young person. Required by themselves. As I recall, the comic strips were in a different-colored section of the Albany, New York newspaper. Among some of the hero types were Secret Agent X-9, Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers, the Phantom (showed up around 1936), Dick Tracy, Jungle Jim, Smilin' Jack, Terry and the Pirates, Dan Dunn, and perhaps others that have lapsed into the darkness of treasures lost.

Let's talk about Dick Tracy. One of the worst criminals involved in the strip was Boris Arson. I can recall that he had been captured and jailed, but, using the cleverness of his criminal mind, he carved a replica of an automatic gun out of a potato, which he colored with shoe polish. With this device, he escaped from jail, fooling the guard with his fake gun. He was later captured again, but his career was a nasty one which the comic strip fully exploited. Dick was surrounded by his gaggle of supporters like Tess Trueheart, Chief Pat Patton, and Junior, the young boy for whom Dick was mentor.

Thinking about Terry and the Pirates brings back memories of him and his buddy Pat Ryan and, of course, their nemesis, the Dragon Lady. Later, a television series was made which, unfortunately, featured a youngish starlet playing the part of Dragon Lady. I always thought Anna Mae Wong or Gale Sondergaard would have been much better. The memories of the pictures of Chinese junks remains with me.

Flash Gordon with Dale Arden, Dr. Zankoff, and Ming the Merciless were among my favorites with Buck Rogers and his companion Wilma Deering and their enemy Killer Kane, who was as cruel as they come.

All of the adventure-type comic strips kept us waiting eagerly for the next episode.

Li'l Abner came along in the 1930's with a whole entourage of memorable characters like Mammy and Pappy Yokum, Daisy Mae, Marryin' Sam, Moonbeam McSwine, Senator Phagbound, et al. The creator Al Capp introduced us to Sadie Hawkins Day and so many other new characters.

Some of these personalities made it to the "Little Big Book" publications. The cost, as I recollect, was ten cents. The size of the book was about four inches square and one and one-half inches thick. The format was: on the left-hand page was the written story; on the right-hand side was a one-panel cartoon or illustration. This format was carried through the entire book for a complete adventure.

Krazy Kat and Felix the Cat were feline characters -- with Ignatz Mouse always showing his love for Krazy Kat by hitting him with a brick. When he did that, several hearts would appear in the balloon above Krazy's head.

Hairbreadth Harry was always saving his love, Belinda Blinks, from the villainous Relentless Rudolph.

Major Hoople, Maggie and Jiggs, The Nutt Brothers (Ches and Wal), Moon Mullings, the Toonerville Trolley, Mutt and Jeff... where did they go? I suppose progress, mores, and fads changed the type of comics that today people approve. We can't forget Ella Cinders, who, like Cinderella, went from years to rags to riches. Where are they? Freckles and his Friends, Skippy by Percy Crosby, early Tarzan strips by Edgar Rice Burroughs... to what have we really progressed? Television and movies that beg for an appreciative audience? With "24" coming the closest to a comic strip venue with its continuing cliffhangers. I'm sure those who remember the comic strips mentioned above -- provided they still have the memories -- kind of miss them. At least they could take the place of what we get today.

FAMILY PHOTO

Uncle Milton, Grandmother, Mother, Uncle Lou,
Cousin Linda, and Cousin Helene

SCHOOL

At four and a half years old, I was able to write my name. So my parents felt I was smart enough to go to school. Ordinarily, the school, which happened to be across the street from where I lived in Albany, New York, wanted to start the children at five years of age. However, somehow, my parents talked them into allowing me to start earlier. Throughout all my school years, I was usually the youngest person in class.

The first day I was to attend kindergarten, my mother took me. I was not too happy about going, so she introduced me to the teacher, a Miss Powers, I believe. Then my mother said she would stay outside the door to the classroom which had a diamond-shaped window for her to look through, but more importantly, for me to see that she was still there. So she left me in the classroom and I kept looking at the door to make sure she was still there. I guess I glanced away from the door, because the next time I looked, she was gone! I believe panic set in and there is no doubt that I started to cry. As I recall, there were other kindergartners who were crying along with me. Fortunately, I did not have this problem with my kids. (I wasn't the one who took them to school.) I'm sure I stopped crying eventually.


One day on the way home from school, a man with a pony and a camera stopped me and asked me where I lived. Not having been warned about this, I told him, "Right over there." Then he said, "How would you like your picture taken on the pony?" I said, "O.K." So he lifted me up, set me on the pony, and took my picture. I then went home, not saying anything to my parents about the picture. A few days later, the man appeared at our house door with the pictures of me on the pony. My mother was surprised, and asked me, "Did you tell this man that it was all right for him to take your picture on the pony?" I said, "Yes." My mother bought the picture, but after the man left, then I got the lesson, "Never talk to strangers!" Today, that lesson is drummed into children as soon as they are able to understand words.

STORE

During the 1930's, in Albany, New York, imaginations provided for fun things to do. Rather than having toys for every possible situation, when we were kids (pre-school and kindergarten age), we used materials that were readily available* -- such as weeds and what the trees had to offer.

We would play a game called "store." Two kids would be the storekeepers. They would obtain some sort of a box, probably an orange crate**, upon which their wares could be sold. The empty lot in the middle of the neighborhood was never mowed, so it provided a lot of different weeds. The "storekeepers" would gather these weeds to act as groceries to be displayed on the orange crate. There were dandelion greens, ragweed, goldenrod, as well as plants bearing burr pods that, when opened, had white-tufted seeds. Also, there were leaves from trees, as well as the wing-like seed carriers from maple trees that looked like helicopters when they feel from the trees.*** Acorns were also available. All this vegetation would take the place of asparagus, beans, beats, celery, and a host of other vegetables.

We kids that weren't the proprietors of the "store" would request a pound of this or a bunch of that, and the proprietors would take the appropriate greens from their display, wrap them in newspaper, and give them to us in exchange for pretend money.

One day while I was playing store, some of the kids said to me, "How would you like to see our hut," which was in another empty lot that was like a forest. The only thing wrong was that the forest was several blocks away. I said "okay" and away we went. My Aunt Celia, one of the most kindhearted relatives I had, was looking after me because my parents were both working in my father's pharmacy. I did not let Aunt Celia know that I was leaving the area of our neighborhood. So I went with my friends to this glorious forest and saw the "hut" they had assembled out of branches, old pieces of wood, and tar paper. After staying there a bit, my conscience slowly began to affect my judgment and I thought I had better go back home. As I neared my house, Richard R., one of my boyhood buddies, came up to me and said, "Boy, your Aunt Celia's really upset -- she said she would pay me a nickel if I found you and here you are!"

"You didn't find me. I was on my way here anyway." I resented the fact that Richard was getting a nickel for finding me. Nickels were hard to come by in those days. However, Aunt Celia was now out of the house and coming towards me, I presume to give Richard the nickel, which she did and then deal with me emotionally. No spanking, but a loving hug and admonition not to ever, ever do anything like that again.

"Are you going to tell my mother and father what I did?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Oh great, now I've got to sweat this ordeal out. I recognize now that the old Jewish guilt trip was being laid on me. But when my parents got home, Aunt Celia never mentioned a word. As I look back on this episode now, it was probably because I was able to disappear without her knowledge and she was supposed to be watching me closely.

* One of the items we used to make was a rubber band gun. The rubber bands were not the normal everyday rubber bands we know today, but were cut from tire tubes, which are no longer used today. These were about 1" wide. Together with a clothespin and a short board about 18" long, plus a number of rubber bands, a gun would be improvised. The one-piece wooden clothespin, with one of its legs broken off, was used as the trigger. One person was ingenious enough to make a rubber-band machine-gun.

** Orange crates turned out to be some of the most utilitarian items for kids to use in various ways. For instance, they could be used for storage shelves in some of the clubhouses (huts) we built in those days. Also, by attaching a board on the bottom of the crate and by nailing the separated two ends of an old-time skate to that board, and with two smaller boards nailed to the top o f the crate for handlebars -- one had himself a scooter.

*** Once the maple tree seed pods landed, we used to pick them up, separate one "blade" from another, each containing a seed, and split apart the seed-carrying blade. It had a sticky inside surface, which we proceeded to put on our noses. It looked like a small green fin stuck to our noses. The leaves, at autumn time, would provide piles of soft landings for us to run and jump into. And then there were maple leaf fights, where we would take clumps of leaves and throw them at each other, nobody getting hurt. So, with little money and lots of improvisation, we were able to have lots of fun.