The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 73,000 times in 2011. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 3 days for that many people to see it.
As 2011 draws to a close, I’ve slipped into a rather “reflective” mood as one would expect. I have been writing and posting “The Duquesne Hunky” for over a year now. My first post was on 11-29-2010 when I declared that “Hunky Was Not A Four Letter Word.” Now, 122 posts later and 1,340 comments later I feel that I am once again “home,” within a community of friends, with common pasts, with a common love for their hometown and a common friendship even though they may have never met.
We are all Duquesne “Soul mates,” possessing a deep rooted admiration for not just a town, but for a way of life. In most cases, we have all taken paths that led our lives into directions neither we nor our parents would ever have dreamed of. We have all come to learn that the childhood we all hold dear and the moral compass we have all been given by the community in which we were raised, extends far across the nation and the globe; from Vermont to Florida to California, Washington State and Hawaii; throughout the United States to New Zealand and to London, England, Duquesne is there.
Who would of thought that the mention of Islay’s Chipped Ham, a hot dog from Jim’s, or Kennywood would bring a smile to the faces of such a large group of people. Sharing recollections, mutual friendships and family ties has become such a wonderful part of this blog. Truly, I’ve discovered that neighbors will always be neighbors and will span the longest distances and the longest periods of time. Personally, I’ve reconnected with many friends and neighbors from my youth and have picked-up as if we had never parted. To me, that makes this whole effort special beyond words to me.
During my recent visit to Duquesne, I sat in my hotel one evening and wrote the following:
Remembering Duquesne
A December wind wafts across my face as I cross Duquesne’s bricked main street. My spirit longs for my yesterdays as I visit my hometown.
In my memory, old friends stop by, but not long enough for my satisfaction. As I mentally reconnect to yesterday’s friends and neighbors, I am overwhelmed with love for this town, and for the people who have lived here.
My foundation, my youth, and most of life’s hard lessons, I learned in this town of smiling faces and orange skies. It is my solace, and makes me feel whole.
It is said that you can never go home again. However, I believe that home is the only place on earth and in your mind, where you can go to understand real love and true friendship.
Let me return time and time again, to the place where my family was always there to love me, friends and neighbors were there to welcome me, and a wee bit of heaven opened its arms to bless me and say, “Welcome home my child!”
– Jim Volk
As we all wait for yet another year to come into being, I can’t help but think of the many New Year’s Eves I spent celebrating with my parents and relatives. The evening of December 31st was always spent at my Uncle Hank and Aunt Clare’s home on Lindberg Ave. in Munhall. All of my aunts and uncles would arrive with casserole and bottle in hand and all of the kids in tow, ready to “party,” hunky style.
My aunt and uncle had a finished basement that lent itself as the perfect place for a party. We would all begin the evening in the basement sharing all of the wonderful food Aunt Clare had prepared and that my aunts had brought. For the New Year celebration, the menu was modified to include the obligatory pork and sauerkraut. Mom always made sure that my brother and I were partaking in the pork and sauerkraut each year or God forbid, bad luck would have come our way!
We all would continue eating and visiting until late into the evening, after which, the
“celebrating” would begin with shots and beers for the guys, and whiskey sours for the ladies. At this point, all of the kids were rounded up and taken upstairs to the living room to watch the New Year’s celebration on TV, “Direct from the Roosevelt Hotel” and featuring “Guy Lombardo and his Orchestra.” All my cousins as well as my brother and I had arrived at the party wearing pajamas and by the time we were plopped in front of the TV, we were already half asleep and ready to nod off. Usually, the youngest among us never stayed awake long enough to see the New Year arrive. The veterans among us however, did remain awake long enough to see all of the partyers at the Roosevelt toast to the New Year, kiss each other(yuck), and continue to dance and enjoy the evening in their fancy dresses and tuxedos. In the meantime, our parents continued to party deep into the night, all the while knowing that the kids were safely tucked in for the evening in a massive heap in the living room. Ahh… good times!
So, 2012 is just a breath away, and I hope that you ALL will continue to share with me, all of the memories that you hold dear. I hope too, that you will continue to follow my blog, put up with my ramblings and recollections, and most importantly, help me keep the “Spirit of Duquesne” and of the hometown we remember, alive and well.
After spending over 35 years as a retail manager, I have formed some rather strong opinions about the celebration of Christmas in the United States. Granted, I realize that I was party to the commercialization and the ensuing chaos that occurred with the change in everyone’s focus from “for-Christ and Family” to a “for-profit” mentality.
As I accumulated years of service in the retail industry, I began to become more and more cynical about Christmas. My chosen career path placed me in the heart of the action during the holiday season. It thrust me into a routine that was the complete opposite of what I grew up with. I think it would be considered a rare occurrence to actually experience a major cultural shift in values in a person’s lifetime. However, I believe that is what has actually occurred.
Whenever Mom prepared the Christmas menu, she would always prepare enough to feed an army. The large amount of food was necessary since every relative made their “rounds” during the days that followed Christmas day. When I was young, the spirit and celebration of Christmas extended well beyond December 25th. Families visited one another throughout the weeks that followed. Tradition steered the visits. The day after Christmas meant a visit to Aunt Rose and Uncle Sam, 2 days after meant Aunt Babs and Uncle Clell….and so on, up until the Epiphany on January 6th. During those evening soirees, every home set-up a beautiful holiday buffet for their guests to enjoy. Since the menu was virtually the same at every home, it came down to the either the buffet decorations or the subtle nuances of seasonings and ingredients that identified who had prepared the food. Aunt Mary’s stuffed cabbages were always larger than most and very hearty, Aunt Helen’s were perfectly formed little chunks of delight, while Aunt Jane would serve porcupine balls (the meat filling without a cabbage leaf wrapping) and kielbasa with the cabbage rolls.
This year, my wife and spent Christmas in the Philadelphia area with our two daughters, my son-in-law and my very first grandchild, Jackson! Seeing Jackson, at 5 months of age, delight with just crinkling up wrapping paper and exploring the many toys Santa brought him was worth the trip. It was a very special treat to be able to share his first Christmas with him.
Unfortunately, our trip only lasted a few days, and we made our return trip on the day after Christmas. I began thinking about one of the largest changes in the way we celebrate Christmas today versus our youth, specifically the length of the celebration. As I indicated above, when I was a boy our families continued to visit and celebrate for 12 days after Christmas. Trees kept their Christmas vigil in living rooms throughout Duquesne for the same time period. Outdoor decorations remained brightly lit as well. The spirit of giving also continued, and often the kids received presents at each and every relative they visited during the holidays. What an incredibly joyous time of year!
As we drove home yesterday after our two day visit to our daughters, it seemed that the plug was pulled on Christmas immediately. Radio stations that featured Christmas carols WAY too early reverted back to non-seasonal songs at the crack of dawn on the 26th. Christmas displays and the Holiday environment that had been created in every store, vanished
overnight. Christmas merchandise was clumped together haphazardly with a 50% off sign slapped on it and bargain hungry shoppers ravaged the shelves. Store employees were dealing with people trying to return items and were demanding their money back. Arguments teemed and store managers tried their best to contain the anger and hysteria. To me, Christmas felt like one of those huge inflatable Christmas lawn ornaments that had the plug pulled. The sum total of most people’s Christmas spirit lay heaped in an unidentifiable pile of nylon in the middle of someone’s front yard.
Prior to the holidays, I did a great deal of research in the Duquesne Times. The emphasis on gift giving during the holidays was evident in issues surrounding Christmas, but for the most part it began with the issue published during the second week of December. The Duquesne City Bank’s ad announcing their Christmas Club Savings Plan for the upcoming year was usually the first evidence of the approaching holidays. From the turn of the century until the 1950’s, the Bank’s ad was always a presence in the paper.
When I think about how much has changed from my early days in retailing, I shake my head in disbelief. During the late 60’s, I worked at Gimbels in Eastland Mall. Although I worked in several departments initially, I eventually landed in the Camera Department. I recall that the Christmas shopping season and the Holiday advertising season was contained within the month of December. However, somewhere between then and now, the Christmas 
season was turned upside down. Stores began opening earlier and earlier each year. Opening an hour before regular store hours in December was about the extent of the “extra hours” at Eastland back in the 60’s, and that only happened one or two weeks prior to the 25th.
After the appearance of “Big Box” stores such as Walmart as part of the retail landscape, 
things dramatically changed…. probably forever. The length of time that stores were open got longer and longer. Advertising that dealt with Christmas began appearing weeks before Halloween. Stores were trimmed for Christmas as early as November 1st. As a General Manager or District Manager in retailing, I often had to deal with the complaints of people that dealt with the early set-ups of holiday. In my heart of hearts, I had to agree with them. As if the longer store hours wasn’t bad enough, now we are invited to begin our shopping at Midnight after Thanksgiving and continue all night. Is it me, or has this become completely maddening????
By the week after Christmas, stores will be complete stripped of any reference to Christmas. Any remaining items will be segregated to some obscure corner of the store and priced at 75% to 90% off. Valentine’s Day will hit us at every turn and the stores will be screaming “Summer’s Coming!” Of course, the fact that we are still facing the entire winter season doesn’t register anywhere. Oh, for those good ol’ Duquesne days!
With all of that said, I am committed to enjoying the holidays until January 6th , even if it is just Judy and I. I intend to continue to consume mass quantities of Christmas cookies, cheese balls and kielbasa. My Christmas tree will remain standing, my outside decorations will remain lit and I vow to continue to wish people “Happy Holidays” until the 6th of January. To me it isn’t a chore to do so….. it’s a pleasure!! So, to all my friends who are reading this…. HAPPY HOLIDAYS! And in true hunky spirit… play it forward!
I thought it would be fun to imagine for a moment, that I’m back in Duquesne for Christmas. It’s Monday, December 23, 1957. The temperature is an unseasonal 60° and that crisp cold air is missing. Fortunately, by Christmas Day on Wednesday, the temperature will dip to 31° and it will feel more like Christmas.
The tree is up and Dad did a really great job once again on. It’s huge and covered with a thick coating of aerosol spray snow. The ornaments are almost obscured since they too are wearing a thick coat of the spray snow. It was as if they doned camouflage in order to blend in and not be seen. Interestingly, at the end of the Christmas season when my parents were packing away the decorations, they never took the time to remove the covering of snow that had accumulated on the ornaments. I remember seeing years of “snow drifts” gathered on these decorations, causing them to look more like they were covered in white moss.
At night, when the lights in the house are off and only the tree lights are burning, the tree looks its most beautiful. Dad and Mom always had ONLY blue bulbs burning on the tree. Of course, in 1957, miniature lights like we use today were not invented, so it was only the C7, finger burning, set your tree on fire type that were used. They too were not exempt from carrying a coating of snow either. Fortunately, the snow usually burned off from the heat of the bulbs each year, so the snow was mostly on the wires and on the bulb holder. When I think back, I think one of the smells I associate with Christmas is the smell of the artificial snow itself, AND of it burning on the bulbs. Who needs Fabreeze!?!?
One of my favorite parts of our decorations was the Lionel train set that Dad set-up 
underneath the tree. He purchased the set in 1950 and set it up every year. He always maintained the integrity of the original oval track layout design. (OK, truth be told, he never had the extra money to buy any extra accessories, so he stuck with what came with the set.) Nonetheless, my brother Steve and I loved the train. I still have it, and I am looking forward to setting it up for my grandson Jackson. Of course, at 5 months of age, he really couldn’t relate to it yet, but give him a year and I’m sure he’ll love it. The moment I complete the set-up and run the train, all of the distinctive sounds I associate with Christmas come flooding back. The sound of the engine, the sound of the whistle and even the smell produced by the small smoke pellets that were dropped into the top of the engine scream out “It’s Christmas time in Duquesne.”
Each year, the Duquesne Times would have a banner headline on their Christmas Edition that wished all of the citizens of Duquesne a Merry Christmas. The 1957 edition was no different as you’ll see from the front page below. The 1957 paper in fact, was crammed full of holiday greetings not only from the Times, but from dozens of area merchants as well. Seeing these mini ads brings a smile to my face as I imagine each one associated with the building and sometimes the person behind it. In 1957, my dad had an ad as well. I think that was the only time he ever advertised during the year. I remember him telling my mom that his customers always told him that they saw his Christmas ad. I think that’s why he repeated it every year.
As I looked through the letters to Santa in that same edition, I recognized that two of my friends had sent letters to Santa that year. The first name I recognized was Bernadette Lucas. Bernadette was a classmate of mine at Holy Name for eight years. We went our separate ways after Holy Name since she attended Duquesne High School and I was sent off to Serra Catholic High School. Bernadette now lives in Dillsburg, PA, about 20 miles north of Gettysburg on Route 15. Bernadette’s requests to Santa at 6 ½ years of age were somewhat benign compared to the other familiar name, Nancy Staisey.
Nancy and I met while we were in high school. I can’t recall the circumstances of our meeting however. Her father, Leonard Staisey, was a major political figure in the city of Duquesne and was a member of the State Senate from 1961 to 1966. He also ran on the Democratic ticket for Lieutenant Governor along with Milton Shapp but was unsuccessful in his bid. Due to his political ties, he was a friend with my uncle, Sam Carr, who was a member of the school board in Duquesne at one time. It may have been through their friendship that I met Nancy.
As I read Nancy’s letter to Santa when she was about 6 years of age, I decided that Nancy was proof that “the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Her letter is the perfect example of a politically correct note to Santa. It covers her own needs, addresses the needs of the world, asks the probing questions of a Senate sub-committee AND deals with the subject of financial responsibility! You go Nancy!! By the way, Nancy has gone on to make quite a name for herself. Currently she is the Managing Director at IBM and resides in London, England along with her husband and children. Nancy, if you’re reading this…. The best and brightest wishes for a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!!
Now, just sit back, get yourself a cup of hot cocoa and open that front page of the Duquesne Times…after all, its 1957 and a stress free Christmas is just around the corner!
************************************************************************************
Aunt Peggy
My visit to Duquesne this year lasted 4 nights and 5 days, however they seemed to rush by in a matter of hours. My mind produced destinations I wanted to visit faster that I could keep up with. In between the time I was visiting my Aunt Peg and other relatives, I managed to carve out time to explore some old haunts, connect with old friends and even meet and speak to a Duquesne legend who is an area guru when it comes to “all things Duquesne.”
It was so heartening to know that some hunky traditions are still observed in the area. On Tuesday, I visited my cousin Jeff Volk and his wife Helen (nee’ Hruska) on Eliza Street in West Mifflin. A “Bobalki-fest,” for lack of a better description, was occurring at the time of my visit and this event definitely constitutes a tradition.
Bobalki (also spelled bobalky, babalki, babalky) are Slovak baked balls of dough. They can be served sweet with ground poppy seeds and honey, or savory with sauerkraut and onion. They are a favorite for Slovak Christmas Eve – Velija and every year, I looked forward to this Christmas Eve treat!
As I entered their home, I immediate was transported back to “Christmas Past,” just like Ebenezer Scrooge. I was hit with the unmistakable fragrance of yeast working its magic on the dough they were using to make the bobalki. I remember going into my Aunt Mary’s house on Martin Street and being hit with the same smell. She would be in the middle of baking her poppyseed rolls and nut rolls for the Holidays. The dough would be in a huge bowl on the kitchen counter, and a dish towel would be draped over the top of the bowl to keep in the warmth in order to help it rise.
When I entered Helen’s kitchen last week, she and two of her friends we completely focused on preparing and baking the bobalki balls. They had been baking since 9 a.m. that morning and had already prepared over 12 pounds of the tiny loaves. They had a goal of a total of 35 pounds of flour before they would call it quits for the day. Not only were they preparing the bobalki balls for their own family’s Christmas celebration, but they would distribute all of the bags throughout their extended family as well.
With assembly line precision that Henry Ford himself would be proud of, each person 
methodically completed their assigned task. Necessity was the mother of invention when it came to cutting the proper amount of dough to be baked into the bobalki loaves. One of the ladies discovered that an empty prescription medication bottle formed the perfectly sized dough ball for the recipe. One person was preparing and kneading the dough, one lady was rolling the dough and the last person cut and arranged the raw dough on the baking sheets. Each person’s job would shift at this point, and they would begin the baking process with same precision as the dough prep process. Cookie sheets were flying in and out of the oven, timers were being set and reset to assure proper baking times and one person was packing and sealing the final product once the baking was completed. Then, the process would begin all over again as another batch was started.
As much as the precision of the team impressed me, the entire visual impact of the scene impressed me even more. It was the epitome of “Home for the Holidays!” A toasty warm kitchen, family and friends gathered together baking for the holidays, Christmas carols playing on the radio, the heavenly smell of baking bread, even their little dog running around the kitchen quickly gobbling up the occasional little roll that would drop to the floor. Yet again, a picture perfect scene for Norman Rockwell to have painted for the Post. Thank you Helen and Jeff for that wonderful memory.
The following day, I had the pleasure of meeting an old friend, Denise Hudak-Ventura, for coffee and conversation, as well as being introduced to a new friend, the Duquesne guru I had mentioned earlier. On my way to meet Denise, I drove past the Duquesne Post Office on North First Street. There were several people making their way either up or down the 
front steps of the building. It reminded me of another Christmas event of my youth. Do you remember when our parents mailed out large amounts of Christmas cards? My mom and dad would mail them to every aunt and uncle (even though we would visit them during the holidays), to every cousin, neighbor, friend, distant relative, every doctor we went to, the nuns, and the priests at Holy Name. Each year, my job was to stamp and sort the cards for mailing after my mom had addressed them. I would separate the cards into piles by the city and state to which they were being mailed. Zip codes hadn’t been introduced yet, so the sorting assisted the post office in doing their job. I would secure the separate stacks by tying them with string so they stayed together. I remember that the post office supplied special labels that would be slipped under the string to identify the stacks as “Duquesne Only,” or “Out of Town,” or “Out of State.” Once my job was completed, my dad and I would make a trip to the Duquesne Post Office to mail the cards. We’d hand the cards over at one of the windows and soon, they were on their way.
To continue, I was on my way to meet my old friend Denise for coffee. We had gotten
together last year during my visit and we resumed our conversation this year as if it had only been days since we last saw each other. We filled-in each other about what has been happening in our lives since we last met, and then understandably, moved on to “the good old days.” We each had stories to relate that we had long forgotten. It was such a refreshing conversation and time flew by quickly.
I was very excited for my next adventure that day. Denise had arranged for me to meet another lifetime resident of Duquesne, and a real expert on the city, the people and the history of Duquesne. We were soon on our way to Penn Taft Pharmacy on Pennsylvania Avenue. There, I had the absolute pleasure of meeting Bill Gallagher of Gallagher Drug Store fame!
As we entered Penn Taft, my mind immediately went back about 3 decades to the time 
when my dad was living and always would by his lottery tickets there. Whenever I visited him, he would send me to Penn Taft to buy them for him. His idea was that by someone else buying them for him, he’d be fooling the “Lottery gods” somehow and he’d win. Not a sound strategy if you ask me, especially since it never worked!
We approached the pharmacy counter and asked the young lady if Bill was available. After she quickly called his name, out popped Bill Gallagher from behind the counter. People seldom to appear as you expect them to be. For some reason, I expected Bill to be very tall and rather reserved. Instead, the gentleman that appeared exuded warmth and a booming personality immediately. He was about the same stature as my dad, standing about 5’ 8” and possessing a full head of white hair. With an outstretched welcoming hand, Bill immediately made me feel at home and as if we had been friends for a long time.
Bill invited me to have a seat in the row of chairs that stood in the aisle and served as a waiting area for their customers. Without much fanfare, we immediately began talking about “All things Duquesne,” his store, the people, the gossip from years ago and his history at Gallagher’s Drug Store. In the course of about 30 minutes or so, he provided me with so many interesting tidbits of information that my head was swimming.
We spoke a lot about people we knew in common. The conversation then turned to people who had commented on some of my posts that he knew. He spoke about Tom Lane and his “movie star looks” as Bill described them as well as other commenters that he knew. The conversation shifted to my childhood friend, Lou Andriko, and to no surprise, Bill acknowledged that he knew Lou as well. In fact, I had a surprise thrust upon me at the mention of Lou’s name. Bill indicated that Lou’s mom, Betty, worked at Penn Taft! In fact, she was working at that very moment. Bill stood up and called her name and out she came from behind the Pharmacy counter! I hadn’t seen her for at least 40 years! She looked at me with a puzzled look after Bill asked if she knew me. I quickly re-introduced myself to her, and the look of surprise, astonishment, love and warmth was immediate! The 40+ years that had separated our last see each other became non-existent. We gave each other the warmest of hugs and began to bridge the years with as much information about one another as we could absorb. The years have been very kind to Mrs. Andriko. She looks fantastic! After about 90 minutes or so, I said my goodbyes, and Denise and I departed. I have a good deal more to relate from that visit, but I will hang onto some tidbits for a later date.
I found an article from the Post-Gazette that addressed the closing of Gallagher’s. It will be two years since it closed in December of 2009. The article’s author does a great job of capturing the bitter sweet emotions of that event. I can only imagine how Bill must have felt at the moment he locked the doors of his store for the last time.
Here’s an idea, let’s all send our Christmas wishes, our memories and our thanks to Bill this Christmas. Send your greetings to Bill by writing a greeting in the comment section of this post. Bill checks and reads The Duquesne Hunky every day, and I’m sure he would love hearing from all of his friends.
I have included two pieces from the Post-Gazette for you to check out. The following is a very unique 360° photo of Bill’s ol’ work area at Gallagher’s. It is part of a series on the Post-Gazette’s website entitled “Pittsburgh Revolution.” It gives you a unique perspective into Bill’s world!
CLICK HERE TO VIEW BILL’S WORLD AT GALLAGHER’S!
I have also included the article that I referred to earlier, first published on 12-17-2009. Once you read it, I’m sure you’ll want to send your wishes to Bill. Let’s all let Bill know that he is appreciated and that truly, “It’s A Wonderful Life!”
Landmark Gallagher Pharmacy, a fixture for nearly nine decades in Duquesne, will close, soda fountain and all, Dec. 31
Thursday, December 17, 2009
By Kate McCaffrey, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
It’s Christmas Past that haunts Bill Gallagher.
Step into his Gallagher Pharmacy in Duquesne and you step back in time. The sounds of Frank Sinatra bounce off the tin ceiling. Black swivel stools line a wooden counter, which holds an old soda fountain. On the nearby pharmacy counter is a large laminated photo of Duquesne High School graduating class of 1932. It’s from a newspaper, and on the back are ads: 10 cents for three loaves of bread; dentures for $12.50; 45 percent off a round-trip ticket on the Pennsylvania Railroad.
Above the counter, a large illuminated sign reads “Prescriptions” in bold, black letters.
It’s behind this lit banner that Mr. Gallagher, a pharmacist, has spent most of his life — 61 years to be exact.
This is his store. They have aged together, he said.
Mr. Gallagher, 79, is retiring at the end of the month and closing this iconic part of Duquesne history. The pharmacy has been an integral part of the community for the past 87 years. It’s a landmark where townsfolk went for credit, coffee and company.
Cherry phosphates and ice cream sodas aren’t served anymore. Now the patrons who used to come here as high school kids looking for a date return for coffee and conversation.
Mr. Gallagher said if he had a quarter for every time a woman came in and told him she’d met her husband here, he’d be rich.
“Lots of very successful marriages have happened because of this store. With the exception of one, they were all fabulous marriages. They would meet at the table and introduce themselves and then would dance [on the dance floor] downstairs.”
Now Gallagher Pharmacy closes at 2 p.m. An “out of order” sign hangs from the soda fountain. The few shelves in the store hold only a couple of items — aspirin, Dr. Scholl’s foot pads, laundry detergent and paper towels. Mr. Gallagher recalls that his grandfather came from County Mayo, Ireland, and he’s quick to catch your name if it’s an Irish one. He admits he has the so-called Irish gift of gab: Everything in the store has a story, and he points each out, jumping from one history to another.
May 1, 1948. That was his first day of work at Gallagher Pharmacy. He was 18 and a “soda jerk” every night that summer from 5 to 10 p.m.
“It was a hot summer night. We had no air-conditioning back then, so everyone just wore a white T-shirt.”
He was paid 30 cents an hour — $1.50 a shift — to clean up spilled Cokes, round up the straws all over the floor and mop up the stickiness. Even though he already had a job working at a grocery store, he needed the additional money to pay for tuition at Duquesne University. He wanted to become a pharmacist, like his uncle, Matthew Gallagher, who founded the store.
It was his uncle who bought the 5,000-pound safe that sits behind the pharmacy counter. Its weight has cracked the tile floor and has forced Mr. Gallagher to reinforce it from below. He’s not entirely sure how he’s going to get it out when it’s time to close.
Matthew Gallagher bought the safe during Prohibition, a time when pharmacies would get shipments of Canadian whiskey, which doctors would prescribe as pain medicine. But every time Gallagher’s received a shipment, the pharmacy would be robbed. Cash and drugs were never stolen — just the whiskey.
Mr. Gallagher still uses the safe. Even so, he has been robbed at gunpoint three times, he said.
Across the room from the safe are three sturdy files, about 100 years old and filled with old credit bills.
Mr. Gallagher still uses those files. He said “an honest” fellow can still get store credit here. If a bill isn’t paid in 30 days and if Mr. Gallagher never sees that person again, well, that’s just the nature of business, he said. He doesn’t send bills by mail.
“These are all simply good people. When the doors close, I’m sure they’ll take care of me. It might take three or four months, but they’ll pay me. This is not an affluent community. A lot of these people live on $700 or $800 a month. They’re good people, but it’s a struggle for them,” he said.
He also makes house calls, delivering medication to “sweet old ladies” who can’t drive.
In the basement is a wall lined with boxes holding prescription forms written by doctors dating back decades. Each box holds 1,200, and Mr. Gallagher estimates he has about 70,000. He’d like to move them out and put them in his garage.
Downstairs has a history entirely its own. The basement has held a barber shop, dances, meetings, wedding celebrations, a spot for a band of 12 and dance studios. Now it holds an inventory of wheelchairs, crutches and a ladder.
After college and after working as a bacteriologist in the military, Mr. Gallagher returned to the pharmacy, which he bought from his uncle. He met his wife, Agnes, at the store. After they wed on Thanksgiving Day in 1961, she helped him at the pharmacy.
“My life is built around this store,” he said.
And that makes retiring a hard decision, he admitted.
“They say that what I should be doing is thinking that I’m opening up a whole new life. Well, you can’t shut out everything in the past. I like to hang onto nice memories, when I have a nice one, hang on to it …. They sustain you.”
Kate McCaffrey can be reached at kmccaffrey@post-gazette.com or 412-851-1867.
First published on December 17, 2009 at 10:10 am
I decided to include the recipe for Bobalki as well, just in case you feel especially industrious this week. Enjoy!
Sweet Bobalki Recipe – Slovak Bread Balls with Poppyseeds and Honey
Makes about 36 Slovak Sweet Bobalki
Prep Time: 15 minutes – Cook Time: 20 minutes – Total Time: 35 minutes
Ingredients:
•2 cups water
•3 tablespoons plus 1 tablespoon sugar
•2 teaspoons salt
•5 tablespoons canola oil or butter (if not fasting)
•2 packages active dry yeast
•6 cups all-purpose flour
•1/2 cup poppyseeds
•1/2 cup honey
Preparation:
1. In a medium saucepan, bring to boil 2 cups water, 3 tablespoons sugar, salt and oil. Cool to lukewarm. Meanwhile, dissolve yeast in 1 tablespoon sugar and 1/2 cup warm water.
2. Place flour in the bowl of a stand mixer or a large bowl. Add lukewarm water-sugar mixture and yeast mixture. Combine thoroughly and knead until smooth, about 7 minutes in the mixer and at least 10 minutes by hand. Cover and let rise until doubled.
3. Punch down dough and turn out onto a lightly floured surface. Roll dough to 1/2- to 1-inch thick and cut into pieces that will result in 1-inch balls when rolled between the palms of the hand.
4. Place on a parchment-lined or well-floured cookie sheet with dough ball sides touching. Heat oven to 375 degrees. Let rise, covered with oiled plastic wrap until nearly doubled. Bake 15-20 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool completely.
5. Meanwhile, grind poppyseeds in a mortar and pestle with a little water or milk and set aside. When bobalki are cool, break the balls apart and place in a colander. Pour just enough boiling water over bobalki to soften but not turn them into mush. Drain well. Pour warm honey and ground poppyseeds over all. Stir lightly and serve immediately.
6. Savory Bobalki: Instead of using poppyseeds and honey, rinse a 1-pound can sauerkraut and squeeze out all moisture. Sauté with chopped onion in butter (or oil if following a strict fast). Mix with bobalki and season with salt and pepper to taste. Source: Charlotte Pribish Conjelko, Indiana
Don’t forget to sent your comments and Holiday Wishes to Bill Gallagher by commenting below! Happy Hunky Holiday!!
I had the most wonderful trip to Duquesne this week and last. It was all I expected and more. I was able to visit with family, reconnect with old friends, meet new friends and visit places that I haven’t been to in some time. If I had to describe how I felt all week visiting Duquesne, it would best be described as being similar to coming indoors on an icy cold winter night and being wrapped in a blanket that had just been taken out of the dryer. Every part of me felt the warmth of our hometown.
I arrived in Duquesne late in the day on Saturday, the 3rd of December, so my adventures didn’t begin until Sunday morning. I began my visit by picking up my 85 year old Aunt Peggy from her apartment in Munhall. It had been about a year since I last visited her, so needless to say, we were happy to see one another.
It was 8 a.m. and we headed to Duquesne to the 8:30 Mass at St. Hedwig’s on South 5th Street. It had been drizzling that morning, so the air was filled with the familiar smells of damp fallen leaves on the sidewalks and streets. I parked across from the church on 5th Street underneath one of the majestic sycamores that line the bricked streets. Churchgoers were filing into the church and it reminded me of an idyllic Norman Rockwell illustration from the cover of the Saturday Evening Post.
St. Hedwig’s is the smaller of the Catholic churches in Duquesne. It offers an intimate setting for all attendees but doesn’t compromise on pure beauty. Even though I grew up in Holy Name Church, I have become very comfortable at St. Hedwig. My dad liked attending mass there and since his death, I have continued to do so as well.
To tell you the truth, it wouldn’t really matter which of the church I went to that Sunday.
Since all they all had Fr. Dennis as the celebrant, they all would have been equally inspiring. For those of you who have never had the opportunity to experience attending a mass being conducted by Fr. Dennis Colamarino, you definitely need to do so.
As I sat next to my Aunt Peggy during mass on that 2nd Sunday in Advent, a thought crossed my mind. I realized that the extraordinary sense of belonging, of faith and of reverence that I was feeling was EXACTLY the same as I felt as a child when I first understood what being a Christian and a Catholic was all about. I remember how my parents were so passionate about attending mass and always seemed to be so “connected” to what was occurring. THAT’S what I felt that Sunday morning with Fr. Dennis.
To say that Fr. Dennis is captivating as a celebrant is an understatement. His personality, positive demeanor, style and speaking ability is “over the top” in a very positive way. When you couple his talents with the extraordinary musical talents of the Music Ministry members, Debbie Walters, Ray Judy and Greg Lesko, you have an experience just this side of heaven.
Fr. Dennis’ sermon contained a story about a woman who was nearing the end of her life due to a health issue. She was having a discussion with her priest about her wishes for her eventual funeral. She told her priest that she wanted to be buried in the dress she wore when she was married. The priest indicated that it should not be a problem. She then 
indicated that she wanted to have the song, On Eagle’s Winds, sung at her funeral. Again, no problem. Her final request took the priest aback however. She told him that she wanted to be buried with a fork in her hand. The woman explained. “My mother once told me a story that I never forgot and I have tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. Here’s her story:
“In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew something better was coming . . . like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful and with substance!’
So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, “What’s with the fork? Then I want you to tell them, “Keep your fork . . . the best is yet to come.”
What a wonderful way to begin my visit to Duquesne. Thanks Fr. Dennis.
The remainder of that first day in Duquesne was spent with my Aunt Peggy. After mass, we
decided to treat ourselves to breakfast. The final destination was “Eat n’ Park” on Lysle Blvd in McKeesport. I remember going to that same location as a child with my parents. We usually went on a Friday, and the customary order was one of their fish sandwiches. I was always fascinated by the larger than life-sized statue of “Big Boy” that greeted you on the outside of the building. Sadly, Big Boy is gone now, but the food was just as good. I recognized many people in the restaurant from St. Hedwig’s mass that morning, so this must have been the Hunky “go to” place on Sunday!
After a delightful breakfast, Aunt Peggy and I returned to her apartment where she quickly changed clothes to prepare for the “main event” that day. As in past years, my December trip to Duquesne included setting up and decorating 
her Christmas tree. Due to apartment regulations, Aunt Peg was forced to give up having a live tree each year and had to settle for a “faux” tree in its place. It actually works out better for her since she sometimes forgot to keep the live tree well watered and by New Year’s Day, it usually had morphed into a king size version of Charlie Brown’s tree.
The apartment building that Aunt Peg lives in is located directly behind, and affiliated with, St. Theresa’s Church on Main Street in Munhall. The residents are retirees, primarily female, and have mostly limited their Christmas decorating to a small tabletop tree at this point. However, Aunt Peg would have none of that, and insisted on a full sized tree in spite of the fact that she had limited space. Now, each year she invites her “lady friends,” as she refers to them, to enjoy some coffee, cookies and her tree. Apparently, it is quite an event for them.
The tree is packed full of ornaments that she has collected over the years. The oldest, dates back to 1913 and was used on my grandparents tree when they were first married. Aunt Peg had a story for each and every ornament and remembered in vivid detail, the circumstances of its acquisition. She reveled in their history, and every year, I patiently listen to the stories all over again. It’s like hearing a familiar Christmas story year after year and I look forward to not only the tale, but her thrill in retelling it once again. I recognized so many of the ornaments on the tree from the time I was little and seeing them on the tree in her living room.
Among Aunt Peggy’s ornaments, there were a few that I recall seeing on MY parent’s tree. When my kids were small, I went on a mission to try to locate vintage ornaments that matched those when I was a child. I must have searched on the web for over six months to locate them. Finally, I was able to locate the exact ornaments that were on the trees that stood i our living room each year. There were wax ornaments of Santa, a snowman, an angel and a drum major. Also, silver plastic filigree bells that brightened our tree each year. Who
would have thought that I would be able to find the identical items at least 50 years later? These little pieces of my childhood now adorn our current Christmas tree.
After finally finishing my aunt’s tree, I was ready to get some well-deserved rest. I traveled back to my hotel and took in all of the individual home decorations along the way. I have to give the current Duquesne, Munhall and West Mifflin residents credit, they sure know how to celebrate the season. Everything from “over the top” displays of lights to very simple and traditional examples could be seen throughout the area. Once I settled in for the evening, I kicked back and enjoyed the local news and prepared myself for another day of adventures, back home in Duquesne. Stay tuned folks, there’s more to come.
I can’t wait to update you on my trip to Duquesne this week, and I am working on the posts now. In the meantime, here’s an update on a poll that I was conducting:
The votes are in and so far the Nativity at the corner of Grant and 2nd has the lion’s share of votes in response to the question “What Reminds You of The Christmas of Your Youth?” There still time to cast your vote. If you would still like to express your opinion, you’ll find the poll at the bottom of this post.
I have a few pictures to provide some inspiration. When I visited the nativity site in Duquesne, it was a cold and rainy day, however, I think I captured the spirit of the scene. Hope you enjoy the pictures, and if you haven’t voted yet, take a moment and let us know your choice!
“Take a look in the Five and Ten
Glistening once again
With candy canes and silver lanes aglow”
As a kid, there was no other store that made me more excited about Christmas than the 5 & 10 Cent stores! We were so lucky to have three stores to choose from in our area. We not only had the G.C.Murphy on South First Street in Duquesne, but we also had two gems in McKeesport. G.C. Murphy and H.L. Greens were both located on 5th Avenue and were epicenters for Christmas spirit in the city. Although I remember bits and pieces of the Murphy’s on South First in Duquesne, my strongest recollections are with the two Five and Dimes in McKeesport.
We would spend hours at the 5 & 10 at Christmas time. It always felt so warm inside. The store windows had bright and festive displays which were difficult to see sometimes since they always seemed to quickly fog-up when it was sold outside. That was actually part of the charm of the store.
I don’t remember any front checkout lines as you see today. Each counter had its own cash register and its own attentive sales staff. I remember being under the scrutiny of many a salesgirl (as they were called) to be sure I didn’t mess-up the counter. They were fastidious about keeping their counters neat and orderly. I recall the year I was buying my mom some nice hankies. I must have been about 9 or 10 years old and was checking out the prices and the assortment at the counter in H.L.Green’s. The lady behind the counter 
immediately made her way over to me when she saw me reaching for the neat pile of folded hankies. I was greeted with a rather stern sounding “May I help you young man?” In retrospect, she obviously thought of herself as the “Hankie Gestapo of H.L.Green’s.” Needless to say, my arms immediately retreated to my sides, and I told her I wanted to buy some pretty handkerchiefs for my mom. She asked me a series of questions about my mom’s favorite colors, flowers, etc. and determined the perfect choice for me. She was right on, I knew Mom would love the hankies with the blue Morning Glories embroidered on them. For a mere 50¢ each, I was able to purchase 3 hankies for my mom, have them loving wrapped in tissue paper and place in a box. The salesgirl told me the total was $1.50 which she punched into the cash register; I paid and was quickly on my way.
Buying for my dad was a simpler process and one that was free of the pressure of having to 
deal with a salesgirl. It meant a quick trip to any number of places that sold tobacco products. I remember going up to the counter in Elise’s (aka Avenue News) or perhaps Hilltop Dairy and buying my dad some Mail Pouch Tobacco and some rolling papers. He obviously used to roll his own cigarettes. In those days, there were no laws that restricted the sale of tobacco products to kids. The messages regarding the health risks as well as using rolling papers for anything other than creating cheaper cigarettes was unheard of.
It appears I’ve gotten a bit off of subject with buying my dad’s gift, so let’s get back to the 5
& 10. There’s a part of my Christmas visits to Murphy’s or Green’s that I don’t have a strong recall of. Based on what my Aunt Mary told me, she and my mom would take us to McKeesport to have our pictures taken with Santa at one of the 5 & 10s. It must not have been too traumatic of an event for me since I really don’t remember every doing it. It may have been that my big brother was always in the pictures with me, so I must have felt safe. Or, Santa may have promise to share a cookie or something with me if I took the picture. Whatever the reason was, I still enjoy looking at those old pictures with Santa and I cherish the memories they evoke.
I decided that I need to conduct another poll among yunz! (Yes, I said it…. YUNZ!) I am curious about your favorite Christmas carol/song. I’m asking that you pick two, the first being your favorite religious/traditional selection and the second being your favorite non-religious/popular choice. My favorite religious carol would be “O Holy Night.” My favorite non-religious song and my reason for discussing it in the middle of this post is because the song is “Silver Bells,” and it has a LOT to do with the subject of this post.
Silver Bells
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style
In the air there’s a feeling of Christmas
Children laughing
People passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on ev’ry street corner you’ll hear
Silver bells, silver bells
It’s Christmas time in the city
Ring a ling hear them sing
Soon it will be Christmas day
Strings of street lights
Even stop lights
Blink a bright red and green
As the shoppers rush home with their treasures
Hear the snow crunch
See the kids bunch
This is Santa’s big scene
And above all this bustle you’ll hear
Silver bells, silver bells
It’s Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them sing
Soon it will be Christmas day.
Every time I hear this song, it reminds of those times when I was in downtown McKeesport, shopping with my mom and flitting between the 5 & 10’s. When we were shopping in downtown McKeesport, there was so much positive energy and holiday spirit. The bags that people carried were emblazoned with the store’s name on them. They weren’t generic white plastic bags, but rather proudly displayed the store logo like Jaison’s, Katzman’s, Cox’s, Immel’s, Kadar’s, National Record Mart and more.
I recall one time that instead of my mom, my dad took me to McKeesport one evening. I experienced McKeesport from a whole different perspective during that trip. As busy and exciting as the stores and the city were during the daytime hours, everything turned magical in my eyes that evening. Lights sparkled everywhere, store windows seemed so much brighter and the hustle and bustle was so much more pronounced than during the day. I remember that it was VERY cold the evening my dad and I shopped. In fact, there were whisps of snow flurries in the air. We literally were immursed in the lyrics of the song “Silver Bells.” From that evening forward, my dad and I made an annual evening shopping trip to McKeesport every year until it no longer was possible due to the economics of the downtown McKeesport area.
I remember how some store, like Cox’s, NRM and Jaison’s played Christmas carols that could be heard from the street, as if they were luring you into their stores. Once inside, you were enveloped in Christmas spirit and customer service. In those days, very few departments were self-serve. People actually worked in specific departments. They did just spend their time stocking shelves and racks, they actually helped you find what you were looking for. You didn’t have to carry around your selection and hunt for a place to pay for it, nor did you put your selection into a grocery cart and have to push it to a checkout line where they would ultimately wad it up and stuff it into a plastic bag directly underneath the loaf of bread you were buying. Instead, price tags were removed from items that were then lovingly folded, placed in a box if you desired and then carefully placed into a bag.
Downtown Duquesne and McKeesport are vastly different from when I was a child. The stores are gone, even the buildings have disappeared. However, the single thing that can never be taken away are the warm memories that are forever etched in your mind.
Now, take a few minutes and tell us your favorite carols. It’ll only take you a few minutes. By the way, I didn’t include “The 12 Days of Christmas” as one of the choices since I have never met anyone who ever liked the song…. or fruitcake for that matter!!
“Christmas isn’t a season. It’s a feeling”
Up until roughly 1960, we had an old Crosley floor radio and phonograph that sat in our dining room. The turntable only had the capacity to play 78 rpm records, and our selections were limited to say the least. I remember Mom would occasionally play some of the Big Band records that she had purchased years earlier. The records were full of crackles and pops, but we were still able to hear the sounds of Glenn Miller or Les Brown fill the air.
In 1960, Dad decided to purchase Mom a modern piece of equipment that excited her beyond belief. The occasion was their wedding anniversary which was in October. I distinctly remember the day when he decided to give her the present. He wasn’t much into
wrapping presents, and so he simply carried a huge cardboard box into the dining room. When Mom opened the box, she was speechless. There before her was a sparkling new Hi-Fi Stereo portable record player! The speakers folded together on the front and were black with a glittery finish. When the speaker were opened, they revealed a silver glittery fabric. The rest of the casing was pink and as “mid-century modern” as you could get. I don’t remember the brand for certain, but it may have been Phillips, Motorola or Zenith. I have not yet been able to locate a photograph of the machine, but I found one that resembled it closely, shown on the left.
Mom loved her new stereo. Imagine, being able to still play her old 78 rpms PLUS being able to buy and play new 45’s and LP albums! Dad had purchased the stereo from his friend Dom Torretti at Dom’s TV, so he knew he got the best. As an added bonus, Dad had received a box of 50 albums when he purchased the stereo. Granted, they were not the most sought after artists, but my parents enjoyed them. There were albums with the Ink Spots, Connie Boswell, Hawaiian music, Big Band Music, Tangos, Beer Drinking Songs (as if Duquesne men needed that type of encouragement!) and dozens of other genres.
Surprisingly, among all of the albums, there were only two Christmas Albums. The first was an album featuring Jack Benny and Dennis Day. It featured a photograph of Jack Benny dressed as Santa Claus and standing in front of what appeared to be Dennis Day’s family who were dressed in their pajamas. Jack was playing his violin and the family appeared to be singing along. It was as hokey of a photo as you could come by, and the album was just as corny. There were songs performed by Dennis Day, some by Jack Benny and even some tracks containing dialog of Jack Benny and Rochester. Believe it or not, I still have the album and I still play it every Christmas since it immediately brings back the memories.
Another of the freebies that Mom received was an album by Fred (?) that featured a pipe
organ and bells. It was about as traditional of a Christmas album as you could find. Somewhere along the way, that album was either lost, borrowed or thrown away and I no longer have it. However, thanks to the amazing reach of technology and the internet, I was able to locate a copy of the records on eBay and now have it back in my collection. It too is dragged out every year and played, especially when I’m trimming the tree.
Beyond all other Christmas music, the one album that immediately “brings it home” for me isn’t one that you would expect. In the early 60’s, as a student attending Holy Name Grade School, we were charged with the job of selling a Christmas album that was recorded by the Sisters of St. Joseph in Baden, Pa. The album was titled “In A Manger Lowly” and contained primarily just the voices of the sisters at the Motherhouse in Baden and occasionally some pipe organ accompaniment.
On the back of the album, aside from the lyrics to the songs that were included, there was narrative about the origin of the title song, “In a Manger Lowly.” It reads –
The feature carol of this record, “In a Manger Lowly,” was written in 1916 by Sister M. Victoria, S.S.J., who at present is completely blind, and a patient in the Sister’s Infirmary at Baden, Pennsylvania. Although handicapped, Sister still assists in the work of the community through her apostolate of prayer and suffering. It is the wish of Sister Victoria that all who hear this carol may have a special share in her daily prayers for the needs of all Christians.
I spoke to Sister Sally, the archivist for the Sisters of St. Joseph in Baden, and she gave me some interesting information regarding Sister Victoria. The Sister was born on 8-6-1869 and died on 10-27-1963, a short time after the album was released. Sister Sally indicated that Sister Victoria was born the very year that the Sisters of St. Joseph expanded into Western PA. – Thanks for the information Sister Sally!
On a whim, I visited the Sisters of St. Joseph – Baden website and discovered that their album was available on CD through their Gift Shop! I immediately ordered a couple and they are a direct recording from the album master still as magical as when my mom would play her album repeatedly through Christmas. If you would like to get a copy for yourself, here’s how:
Click HERE to visit The Sisters of St. Joseph Motherhouse Website
Or you can call the main number, (724) 869-2151, and order by phone. Just ask to be connected to The Book Nook Gift Shop and they will take care of you. You can pay by credit card and have it mailed out immediately. As a final alternative, you can print out the order form and mail it to the Motherhouse at the following address:
The Sisters of St. Joseph
The Book Nook Gift Shop
1020 State Street
Baden, PA 15005-1338
And so my friends, I hopefully sign off leaving music in your heart. I am heading up to Duquesne this weekend and will be staying for 5 days. I can’t wait to get home and I’m hoping I encounter some snow along the way as I did at this time last year. I will hopefully return with lots of stories and pictures to share with you.
If there is anything you’d like me to check out, please leave a comment and let me know!
| Teresa W. Harless on The Hunky’s Shopping… |
The Duquesne Hunky 