Gifts from my Childhood

Posted on April 30, 2012 by Jim

The last thing that I wanted to do when writing this blog was to become philosophical. Unfortunately, some events just bring out an innate need to overanalyze some of my behaviors, thoughts and points-of-view. Let me give you an example:

……………. I love music. I usually need to have music playing in order to work or think efficiently and effectively. In spite of my age (ugh), I am very open to most music genres. I certainly have my favorites, however as my daughters were growing-up, I became more tolerant and even appreciative of musical artists of their era as well as most of today’s artists.

I thought a lot about this today. I was talking with a co-worker and discussing how much my mom, dad, aunts and uncles influenced my musical tastes. I was provided with so many opportunities to experience all types of music.

My parents and most of my adult relatives were Big Band Era fans. During family events such as weddings or holiday gatherings, they would often pop on some Billy Vaughn or Mantovani and take to “cutting the rug” as they did when they were younger.

Through their musical preferences, I was able to develop a real appreciation for music. My Aunt Mary had a HUGE impact on my musical tastes. She loved hearing a good voice. Eddie Fisher, Connie Francis, Nat King Cole, Patsy Cline, and Kay Starr were just a few of her favorites. We would turn into WTAE Channel 4 every Saturday night and watch The Lawrence Welk Show. Aunt Mary, along with my cousins Paula and Karla would provide cynical commentary throughout the show, laughing at the bubbles and the overall corniness of the program, but enjoyed it nonetheless. Aunt Mary’s favorite point to make was the fact that Lawrence Welk, in spite of being born in North Dakota, would always speak with a German accent.

I checked Wikipedia and found the following information about Mr. Welk:

“A common misconception is that Welk did not learn English until he was 21. In fact, he began learning English as soon as he started school. The part of North Dakota where he lived had been settled largely by Germans from Russia; even his teachers spoke English as a second language. Welk thus acquired his trademark accent, a combination of the Russian and German accents. He took elocution lessons in the 1950s and could speak almost accent-free, but he realized his public expected to hear him say: “A-one, an-a-two” and “Wunnerful, Wunnerful!” When he was asked about his ancestry, he would always reply “Alsace-Lorraine, Germany,” from where his forebears had emigrated to Russia (and which, at the time of Welk’s birth in 1903, had become part of the German Empire).” 

…………….Living in Duquesne gave me an opportunity to be exposed to the wonderful ethnic music of my hunky heritage. In those days, a wedding reception was never complete until dozens of polkas had been played. Inevitably, all of the ladies and even some gentlemen would take to the dance floor to dance the Hungarian Chardash ( Csárdás.) I was pulled out of my chair several times by my relatives to join in the Chardash. Of course I had NO idea what I was doing, however I  realized after just a few minutes that no one else did either!

On a few occasions, living so close to Pittsburgh afforded us the opportunity to see the Duquesne University Tamburitzans perform. Those performances exposed us to even more of our culture, and a deepening appreciation for its music.  International Village in McKeesport provided another opportunity to  connect to our ethnic musical roots as well. Every Sunday when we would visit my grandparents on Duquesne Ave., my grandpa or my Uncle Henry (a.k.a. uncle Chin) would have the radio tuned into a special program of Slovakian music and polkas. It was always part of my life.

 

I can’t thank my parents, relatives, Holy Name School and Church, the City of Duquesne and all of my ancestors enough for the wonderful gift of music appreciation that they gave to me.

…………………….. Music is but one of the many lifelong gifts that I received duirng my childhood in Duquesne. I have written before about so many aspects of life in Duquesne that made me the person I am today and that molded my character. I consider each character building event to be a gift. I often think about a quote from H. Jackson Brown’s book “Life’s Little Instruction Book” when I try to describe the type of person each of our parents raised us to be – “Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you.”

 In 1996, author William J Bennet published The Moral Compass, an inspiring and instructive work that offers many more examples of good and bad, right and wrong, in great works from literature and in exemplary stories from history. The piece is organized by the stages along life’s journey, with stories and poems that serve as reference points on a moral compass, guiding the reader through the ethical and spiritual challenges along the pathway of life: leaving home, entering into marriage, easing the burdens of others, nurturing one’s children, and fulfilling the obligations of citizenship and leadership.

 Drawn from familiar Western history and mythology as well as a wide selection of tales and folklore from Asia, Africa, and Latin America, the stories in The Moral Compass are literary and evocative, designed to inspire as well as instruct.

 A useful way to think about your “moral compass” is to think of it like an ordinary compass with true North representing Integrity, South – Forgiveness, East -Compassion, and West – Responsibility. These four universal principles are honored in some form by people of all races and religions, regardless of gender.

 There is no question in my mind that my parents, relatives and virtually every person I came into contact with while growing-up in Duquesne lived their lives according to this compass.  These four principles were an innate part of every person’s being. Occasionally, everyone would falter to some degree, but the principles served as the backbone of the community.

I have to admit,  I can’t help but laugh when I think about the “Southern Point” of the moral compass when it came to my father. Forgiveness came very easily to him. Nothing was a big deal. He was thick skinned, unlike me, and intended insults just bounced right off of him. He’d just laugh and crack a joke and defuse a situation without a problem. However, being a “bull-headed hunky,” he would occcasionally hold a grudge. For example, he and my Uncle Lou Goldman were always great friends. They drank together, they played cards together, and at one time they and their families even lived together. They were both staunch members of the GBU in Duquesne, located at the corner of Grant Avenue and Norman St. They could normally be found sitting side-by-side at the club’s bar similar to Norm and Cliff from the TV program “Cheers” that was until they had a “falling out” one day. Their grudge, which manifested itself by their refusal to talk to one another, was a result of my dad opting out of a planned golf date. I have no idea what the circumstances were, but I can’t help but believe that Dad just decided he didn’t want to golf that particular day. Apparently this wasn’t the first time my dad suddenly decided not to keep a golf date with Uncle Lou, again, not hard to believe. I guess Uncle Lou had had enough and said something to my father, who said something back, which caused Uncle Lou to ‘vent” even more, and so on and so on. Anyway, these two bull heads ended up not speaking to each other for the remainder of my dad’s life! As strange as it seems, this “feud” ended up teaching me a lesson about the need for forgiveness and realizing how relationships are far more important than “being right.” It still makes me sad to know that my father and my Uncle Lou never reconciled before my dad passed away in 1999. I know Uncle Lou tried made peace with my dad when he came to pay his respects to my dad when he was laid out at Gregris Funeral Home on Kennedy Ave. While he said his final goodbyes to Dad, he slipped a golf ball into the casket as if to say “Goodbye old friend.”

…………………………….. Perhaps the most cherished gift that my parents, family and neighbors gave to me was their love of life and their savoir faire. Very little would upset my them. It seems that there was a “kinder and gentler” existence in Duquesne. The hostility that seems to permeate our world today was virtually non-existent as I was growing up. People were patient, people were far less judgmental, and road rage was unheard of. People laughed and smiled a lot more. Neighbors talked with one another and even visited each other! Every opportunity to celebrate a holiday was cherished and would usually result in either a family or neighborhood gathering. Family reunions were held every few years, not every few decades as they are now. Bigger wasn’t always better. Homes were modest and families were large. My parents didn’t complain about what they didn’t have, but rather embraced and improved and enriched the blessings they were given. Life was taken seriously, but never overwhelmed Mom or Dad. Somehow, with God’s blessings, challenges were overcome and life was lived to its fullest.

 Thank you Mom and Dad, and thank you Duquesne for all of the gifts you gave to us. It’s just too bad that it takes so long to realize how wonderful those gifts were!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in McKeesport, Miscellaneous, Parents | 3 Comments

The Faces of Angels

Posted on April 26, 2012 by Jim

The number of people that responded to my previous post today is astonishing. I never realized how much fun it is to try to remember our childhood friend’s name and face! Frank Mullen wrote and suggested that a picture that he had sent previously and that I had posted in a previous story. GREAT IDEA Frank! Perhaps we can all go on a scanvenger hunt in our memories for names. So here goes.

The picture below must have been taken between 1957 and 1959. Thant’s just a guess however. Even though I was not part of this picture, it is rich with memories for me. The  details are like chards of memories coming together to create a very clear memory for me.

I was not a member of this group, however it must have been the folowing year that I was able to become an altar boy. I remember the graphic wall covering that lined the walls of the Sanctuary, but cannot recall the colors. The 6 tall candles that stood on the altar were the High Mass candles and were lit at the 11 o’clock Sunday Mass. I always hated lighting them since I was short and had a lot of difficulty in reaching them. Inevitably, the wick had been tamped down into the wax somehow, and it was very hard to light. Of course, it didn’t help that I always felt that the eyes of everyone in the pews were upon me. I prefered lighting the small candles that are visable to the right of Frank Mullen in the back row. They were quick and easy and rarely gave me any problem.

Above the crucifix there were  painted golden stars on a sky blue background. It was a beautiful focal point for the altar, and I remember staring at it during mass. I think it was quite a feat to have this entire group of 35 boys to be able to recite their entire portion of the Mass in Latin. I came across my old missal last week as I was looking for old photographs and was rather amazed at the amount of Latin that we were required to memorize. “Et cum spiritu tuo” was just the beginning!

I remember that the altar was usually adorned with flowers. Often they were carry over decorations from a wedding that had been held on Saturday. Virtually every crook and cranny contained an arrangement, and there was usually the lingering scent of gladiolas, chrysanthemums and roses in the sanctuary. The memories are still very vivid for me.

Now, here is the challange for all of you. You need to purge your memory banks and help identify the faces in the photograph below. If you know any of them, just use the comment section and tell us who each of the numbered faces belongs to! Happy memory hunting, and “Dominus vobiscum!”

Posted in Church and School - Holy Name | 17 Comments

The Holy Name Gang

Posted on April 26, 2012 by Jim

I couldn’t wait to share the photograph below with all of you. Thanks to Colleen Byrne Travis, I was immediately transported to the steps of Holy Name School during the 1950’s. The photo was actually taken in 1955, and based on what the boys are wearing, it must have been in the Spring. I know that Frank Mullen was a member of Duquesne High School’s Class of 1962 which means that some of this group of young men must have been in 5th Grade when the picture was snapped. Since there are so many boys in the snapshot, they must have been in a mixed grades. Seriously, if  this whole gang were in one class with one of our dear nuns, I am sure she would have left the sisterhood immediately.

Colleen and her brother Tom sat down and identifield 14 of the kids pictured. Some of the identifications are incomplete, so I hope that you all can help us i.d. more of them. Here’s what Colleen had to say:

“1955 – Back door of Holy Name School. My brother Tom (not pictured) would have been in the 8th grade, helped to identify these kids. Larry McConnell is Mrs. McConnell, the cafeteria cook’s son.  He was in my brother Patrick’s class. ? Smith was from a large family. His sister Diane was in your brother Steve’s class and his sister Rosemary was in my class. Ross Wirth is Barbara’s brother. John Connolly had a sister Ellen in my class. I guess Frank Mullen is the ne who responds to your blog. Lee Mackay had an older brother, Ray. Love the raincoat.”

Colleen sent me the actual photo to share with you along with the following note:

“I think Frank Mullen and Howard Lehman are mixed up because Howard’s brother Ronald was in my class and he had real blonde hair like the one in the picture.”

Maybe Frank or another of our friends can help identify the other boys in the picture. I’m including a clean copy of the photo as well as the i.d. copy and notes. Enjoy your trip back in time:

I remember standing at the very top of these steps and banging the backs of the chalkboard erasers together. We’d produce this big cloud of white dust and usually came back from the chore completely covered in chalk dust. I used to pound the erasers against the black handrails to clean them at times. If any of the nuns caught me doing this, I would always get into trouble.

Now, let’s see if you remember any of the names……

Here are the name that Coleen and her brother Tom associated with the faces:

1. Patrick Byrne (Colleen’s brother – R.I.P. – 1945-2012)

2. Ross Wirth

3. Lee Mackay

4. David Yoesal

5. Maybe Frank ? Minnick

6. ? Ross

7. Maybe Billy ? Minnick

8. Clifford Pitts

9. Frank Mullen

10. ? Smith

11. Frank Lokmer

12. John Connelly

13. Howard Lehman

14. Larry McConnell

I have labeled the remaining kids that you might be able to i.d. Not every face is visable, so do your best in putting a name with a face! Check the photos below to help name the boy. Use the comment section and put a name with the letter to help I.D.:

Posted in Church and School - Holy Name | 33 Comments

Dusk in Duquesne

Posted on April 24, 2012 by Jim

Judy and I traveled up to visit our kids in eastern PA last week. As we were traveling north on DE-1 through Delaware and crossed the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal Bridge, I was hit with a rush of nostalgia as I glanced eastward and glimpsed the lights of the Delaware City Refining Company. It was early evening, and the sun had just set a few minutes before.

 One of my favorite aspects of writing this blog is discovering interesting tidbits of information as I conduct research. When I decided to write this post, I found out that there was an actual difference between sunset and dusk. Dusk is the beginning of darkness in the evening, and occurs after twilight, (during which the sky generally remains somewhat bright and blue). Civil dusk is when the earth has rotated enough that the center of the sun is at 6° below the local horizon. This marks the end of the evening civil twilight, the point where artificial illumination is required to read outside. It can be confused with sunset, which is the point at which the earth has rotated enough that the sun is no longer visible from the local horizon.

 The refinery lay in the distance from the bridge, but bore a resemblance to the Duquesne mills. There were lights that lined various smoke stacks which like the steel mills, were billowing clouds of white smoke into the semi-darkened sky. The sum-total of all of these images reminded me of living in Duquesne, and the excitement that the arrival of dusk meant warm spring and summer evenings. For example:

  •  I remember that the arrival of dusk meant the excitement of catching lightening bugs (a.k.a. fire flies, although we never called them that) was about to begin. Warm summer nights were filled with my friends and I running around the yard just after sunset, trying to be the one who caught the most lightening bugs. The warmer the weather, the more the bugs would fill the night area. We had a large empty lot next to our house, so we had a lot of opportunity to snag a bug. We would often glance toward St. Joseph’s Cemetery at the end of our street and see the empty fields draped in a glistening blanket of lights from the multitude of lightening bugs floating in the air. With an old pickle jar that was topped with a cap full of holes, we would head out into the yard or the cemetery and battle to see who could capture the most before we were called in for the evening.

 

  • Whenever we were treated to an evening at Woodland Drive-In, we would always arrive early enough to allow my brother and I play time on the playground that stood at the base of the massive screen. The entire playground was populated by pajama clad kids running from the swings, to the slide and to all of the other playground equipment in the area. The presence of parents meant there was no tolerance for fighting over “taking turns,” so the playtime ran smoothly. By the time dusk had rolled around, moms and dads were gathering the brood in order to hustle them back to the car before the show started. Often, we were still going full steam when the cartoons would start appearing on the screen and suddenly the air was filled with the sound of Looney Tunes echoing from the field of tiny speakers.

 

  • Dusk was always a very special treat whenever you were at Kennywood Park. It was usually the time of the evening when the lights came on throughout the park. Suddenly, every structure and ride came alive with lights in motion throughout the park. It seemed that senses were heightened at dusk and throughout the remainder of the evening. Thrill rides became even more thrilling at dusk. Even though we knew the rise and fall of every roller coaster, experiencing them in the dark of night made them all the more thrilling. Being perched at the top of the Ferris Wheel while riders were exiting and entering the ride was extra exciting when you were able to look out into the park and see a field of whirling and glistening lights covering the world before you. I would always look out into the distance and see the familiar orange glow hovering above the steel mills and be filled with a sense of comfort and of being home. At dusk there seemed to be a noticeable drop in temperatures, and as we traveled throughout the park, ladies would be donning their sweaters as they continued to enjoy the rides until the music of “Nighty Night” by Alvino Rey finally filled the air.
  • As I grew older and started high school and driving, dusk usually meant the start of an evening of fun, in the company of friends. Gathering on each other’s porches, going to a dance, meeting at the Dairy Queen near Kennywood, or just strolling, laughing and keeping each other company provided special times to all of us. In the absence of Facebook, iPads, cell phones and other technological gizmos that have become part of our lives, we actually relied on face-to-face interaction to entertain ourselves. The sense of security and comfort that we all felt as we spent evenings outside was wonderful. Danger and fear were not even a consideration. It was the best of times.

 Take a few minutes the next time evening falls, and just look toward the west and let your mind wander back to the times when that time of day was often the beginning of yet another joy of our youth.

 

                                     

 

 

 

Posted in Life in General, The Steel Mills | 5 Comments

“Hey, I Resemble That Remark!”

Posted on April 18, 2012 by Jim

I just received a piece of “occupant” mail that tried to entice me to sign-up for a satellite TV service that would provide me with more channels than I could ever use! Although very tempting, the flyer became recycle bin fodder very quickly. I couldn’t convince myself (or my wife for that matter), that I needed access to the Fly Fisherman channel or the Omelet Maker channel or the Composting channel or any other boutique channel that was being offered. I get grief from my wife for watching TV now, can you imagine what she would say if I would spend more and more time watching in an attempt to get my money’s worth? If there were a 3 Stooges/Our Gang/Vintage Popeye Channel, perhaps I would have been more tempted to subscribe to the service. Sadly, no such channel was offered.

Back in the 50’s and 60’s, choices in channels and programing were basically limited to the big 3 ½, ABC – CBS – NBC and a half point to the viewer supported PBS. I will forever remember Sunday afternoons when we would gather at my Aunt Mary and Uncle Lou’s home after church to sit and watch an hour’s worth of 3 Stooges Episodes. We would religiously tune in WTAE, Channel 4 and howl at the continuing misadventures of Moe, Larry and Curly.

My cousins and I weren’t alone in our enjoyment of the Stooges. My Uncle Lou (Goldman) was the instigator of this Sunday afternoon tradition. As we would watch the Stooges each Sunday, he would howl, cough, and snort with laughter. Clinging to his HUGE brown and tan coffee cup, he had a habit for repeating the insults the Stooges hurled while watching.

The part I will never forget is how disgusted my Aunt Mary was when we were watching. I’m sure that the words “knuckleheads and morons” came to mind whenever she saw us watching the Stooges. My wife is no different than my Aunt Mary. She just cannot understand what I think is so funny about the trio. I’m sure there will be no way that I’ll be able to convince her to see the new 3 Stooges Movie that recently premiered.

Post-Gazette film critic emeritus Barry Paris, reviewed the new Stooges movie on after its premier on Friday, April 13, 2012. I wrote to Mr. Paris and received permission to post his review for your enjoyment and enlightenment.

 An Appreciation: ‘The Three Stooges,’ Eternally Moronic

By Barry Paris / Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

 The cyclical nature of Stooge-mania is not unlike that associated with biblical plagues, locust invasions and the reliable return of Halley’s comet.

 They were Ted Healy’s comets, originally. But were they the greatest film comedy team? The Marx Brothers, Laurel & Hardy, and Abbott & Costello would beg to differ. Yet for legions of sophomoric and sophomoronic fans, the ultimate wits — dim or half — will ever be Moe, Larry and Curly.

 The new “Three Stooges” movie, which opened Friday on lucky April 13, is co-directors Peter and Bobby Farrelly’s contemporary take on the time-tested boneheads’ iconic-ironic formula, re-creating those puerile personas in a (slightly) modernized situation with a fresh set of latter-day Stooges who look and sound amazingly like the originals.

 Seems that baby Moe, Larry and Curly have been left on the doorstep of a convent orphanage — “newborn angels from heaven,” say the nuns, until one of them, Sister Mary-Mengele (Larry David), gets eye-poked by Moe and goes sailing head over habit. The boys grow up nyuk-nyuk-nyuking and woo-woo-wooing to immaturity, becoming the home’s inept maintenance men and meeting femme fatale-tamale Lydia (“Modern Family’s” Sofia Vergara) who gets them involved in a murder plot and — oh, never mind …

Have I told you lately about the Apotheosis of My Childhood? Thanks for asking. It was Jan. 3, 1959 — the day the Three Stooges came to the late great Holiday House in Monroeville for their first live appearance since vaudeville days. For a 10-year-old in the Eisenhower administration, this was equivalent to the resurfacing of Amelia Earhart and an audience with the pope, combined. My cousins and I, in our best clip-on ties, strained to get autographs from three snarly old men, barely tolerating us and our flashbulb-popping Kodaks. In the spirit of the occasion, we’d drop the just-used hot ones down each other’s backs — for guaranteed howls. Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk…

 No wonder the Stooges’ influence generated such universal parental disapproval. We were always hearing horror stories about kids who poked each other’s eyes out, but we concluded that anyone dumb enough to actually “pick two” — without putting his hand on his nose sideways — deserved to be blinded.

No less a figure than Moe himself addressed that contentious subject, when asked by a Post-Gazette reporter at Kennywood. “The eye thing is out [of the act] now,” he growled, since meddlesome groups like the Pittsburgh Jaycettes were petitioning to ban the Stooges from TV. Moe had no doubt who was to blame: “Women!” he fumed, unrepentant. “Why don’t they stay home and criticize their children?”

 Stooge History 101: Ted Healy discovered the Howard brothers (Moses and Samuel Horwitz, aka Moe and Shemp) during a 1922 show in Brooklyn; “Porcupine” Larry Fine (1902-1975) joined the act in 1925. Billed as “Ted Healy and His Stooges,” the trio served as foils to Healy’s jokes. When Shemp (1895-1955) left to go solo, Moe (1897-1975) enlisted youngest brother Jerry (1903-1952), a comic dancer and conductor on the vaudeville circuit. They would make 190 short comedies for Columbia over 25 years. In 1946, Curly’s stroke on the set of “Half-Wits Holiday” ended his career and prompted a string of substitute Curlies, including Joe Besser (whose contract stipulated he could never be slapped by Moe — what a wimp!).

 Greatest hits among the legendary shorts:

“You Natzy Spy,” filmed a year before America entered World War II, in which Moe does his immortal Hitler send-up and Curly plays fat Field Marshal Herring.

“We Want Our Mummy,” set in the Egyptian tomb of King Rooten Tooten and Queen Hotsie-Totsie. When not floor-spinning in a circle, Curly — the Rudolf Nureyev of slapstick — takes his memorable dip in a desert-mirage ocean of sand. 

“A-Plumbing We Will Go” (with the racist, bug-eyed servant refrain, “Feet, do yo’ stuff!”), “Boobs in Arms,” “They Stooge to Conga” — the list is endless.

 Back to the future-present incarnation: The three new stooges — Chris Diamantopolous as Moe, Will Sasso as Curly and Sean Hayes (Jack on “Will & Grace”) as Larry — are not quite household names but have excellent chemistry, from the excerpts I’ve seen. Give the Farrelly Bros. (“Dumb & Dumber,” “There’s Something About Mary”) high marks for verisimilitude — of the signature gags and all-important sound effects and “boinks!” from the two-reelers that punctuate the slapstick. This effort had the real potential to bomb but doesn’t because it sticks to basics.

Basic what? Basic absurd repetition and predictability. Like Clarabelle sneaking up behind Buffalo Bob with a seltzer bottle on “Howdy Doody,” with the peanut gallery going bananas, trying to warn him. (“Huh? What is it, kids?” — but he never turns around.) Basic bonking.

Which raises the age-old Gender Debate: Why do men find the Stooges so riotously funny, while precious few women do (my cousins Carole and Lynn being glorious exceptions)? It’s because the Stooges do everything mothers tell boys not to do: run with sharp objects, poke people in the eyes, bash each other with shovels. They represent vicarious male rebellion, full of stupid noises, pratfalls, bad puns — a delicious juvenile “cultural regression” that never goes out of style.

The Farrellys’ homage is surprisingly enjoyable. If it corrupts — I mean, inspires — a new generation to Stooge awareness, who am I (or other geriatric Stooge purists) to object? Whilst we wax rhapsodic, they wax moronic into eternity. The last Stoogefest at the Syria Mosque in 1991 drew 6,000 people. Then and now, all you can say is — “Spread out!”

Post-Gazette film critic emeritus Barry Paris: parispg48@aol.com.

First Published 2012-04-15 04:17:10

As much as Mr. Paris had some particular favorites among the original 3 Stooges shorts, I too had some standouts that I remember. So sit back, grab a cup of coffee like my Uncle Lou and enjoy the following clips:

Gents without Cents

Horse Collars

 

Violent is the Word for Curly – Swinging the Alphabet

 

 

Posted in Movies, Music, Radio and TV | 4 Comments

Introducing Hunky Bill

Posted on April 16, 2012 by Jim

Occasionally, I might make a departure from our hometown and write about a random, but somehow related subject.  In this post, I’m talking a HUGE sidetrip to Richmond, located in British Columbia, Canada. Richmond is approximately 2700 miles from Duquesne, but in some strange way, connected to our city.

A few weeks ago, I received an email from Jim Hartman (Mifflin Township Historical Society) that opened my eyes to the world of hunky technology. Jim had sent me a link to a website that featured all types of kitchen gadgets. In particular, this site offered a hunky version of technology in the form of a PEROGIE MAKER! Granted, it wasn’t the cutting edge technology of Bill Gates or Steve Jobs, but nonetheless, it was an invention that specifically addressed a need that helped bubbas and hunkys worldwide.

Although I was fascinated about the actual device, what caught my eye when I visted the site was the item’s creator, Hunky Bill! I decided to investigate a bit more about this fellow Hunky and eventually landed on his website HUNKYBILL.BIZ. On his site is the following brief bio:

  • Born in the “true” North end of Winnipeg on Euclid Avenue in Point Douglas on May 15th 1931, Hunky Bill attended Norquay, Aberdeen and St. John’s Schools. He worked at the C.P. Telegraphs till 1956 before migrating to Chicago, where he lived for two years.
  • Working as a freelance sports reporter, Bill met and interviewed many sports celebrities including Mickey Mantle, Casey Stengel, Bobby Hull, Yogi Berra and the legendary Ted Williams. Casey Stengel called him the Crazy Canuck after watching him consume his favorite beverage – beer.
  • He met his wife to be Kay Eyre in 1958 and they married in Winnipeg where Bill joined radio station CKY. Bill and Kay stayed in Winnipeg until l966, taking their two sons Billy and Clay to Vancouver to join the CJOR team.
  • In 1967 the radio station CFUN made him General Sales Manager and he stayed there until 1971. While at CFUN he was also importing Ukrainian food from Winnipeg. While enjoying himself one day at the Ritz Hotel, a friend bet him ten dollars that he couldn’t get a booth at the Pacific National Exhibition (Vancouver’s big annual fair.). Bill went down to the PNE and pleaded and argued for an hour and finally he was given a booth. He won his ten-dollar bet and the rest is history. Another important happening was a third son Mark being born in May of 1967.
  • Hunky Bill’s Perogie Maker was a smash success. It allows the user to cut, seal and form perogies in one easy step. The B-I-G and Little Perogie Makers are available around the world. So buy a Perogie Maker and hold a perogie party!

Hunky Bill is actually a gentleman by the name of Bill Konyk. Just by looking at him, you have to know that Bill is a character! I would love to just sit down and speak to him about all of his adventures while a sports reporter, and also share all of his “hunky” stories. I came across a You Tube video of a commercial that Hunky Bill did for his product. Just click below to watch, and make sure your sound is turned up on you computer:

 

The following is an article from the Vancouver Sun that provides a bit more insight into our fellow hunky, Bill. Enjoy……

The Perogy Dynasty of Hunky Bill

  By Vancouver Sun                                  September 2, 2011
  • There are several things you should know about Bill Konyk. The first is that he is 80, fit as the proverbial fiddle and credits his health and his rather cheeky attitude to perogies. Which he eats every day.
  •  The second is that his wife Kay, who is from Chicago and is 74 and who gave him three spitting image sons – Billy, 51, Clayton, 50, and Mark, 44 – had no clue what a perogy was when, in 1958, she wed the man who would turn out to be B.C.’s perogy king.
  • The third is that when Konyk, while working in Vancouver radio nearly half a century ago, convinced the skeptical PNE brass to let him open a perogy kiosk in the Food Building in 1967, that first combo dinner sold for 95 cents. This week, at his booth on the PNE midway, the same plate of food costs $12.
  • Oh, and he’s called Hunky. Hunky Bill.
  • The Konyks – wife, sons and six grandchildren – all but bleed perogies, every last one of them having been inculcated in all manner of Ukrainian fare and, for as long as they could stand on their feet for 12 hours a day, having worked the fryers and fountains and counter under Hunky Bill’s tent during the annual fair.
  • And if you ask him to tell the story of his perogy legacy, and you will because you just know it’s going to be interesting, be prepared to have your ear bent.
  • The short version is that like many immigrant Ukrainians, Konyk’s parents settled in Winnipeg, where Bill was born and raised, before heading as a young adult to Chicago for a job as a radio sports reporter. He met Kay, they returned to Winnipeg and married and, two sons in tow, moved to Vancouver in 1966 when Bill landed a job at CJOR.
  • In the late 1960s, after hosting a few house parties for ex-Winnipeggers, he realized there was a market for Ukrainian food and began importing perogies and sauerkraut and sausages and smoked goldeneye from Manitoba and selling them to local Ukrainians and other adventurous eaters, Ukrainian food in 1970 being a somewhat exotic cuisine in the then-sleepy culinary town that was Vancouver.
  • “Next thing I know, I’m making some serious coin,” he says.
  • One day, sometime after Kay had perfected the art of perogy making, Konyk was enjoying a drink in the Ritz Hotel on Georgia when a friend bet him $10 that he couldn’t get the PNE to let him sell his perogies to fairgoers.
  •  He took that bet, but the PNE put up a fight and told him there was a waiting list for spots. Konyk was persistent, and the fair finally relented when he said: “Do you know what a perogy is? This is going to be the hottest food in town.”
  • He was in, it was and this year is Hunky Bill’s 45th at the fair.
  • To say that perogies are a Konyk family affair is to fail to grasp just what that means.
  • In 1980, for instance, Kay introduced her son Clay to his soon-to-be wife Elly, who was working at the Hunky Bill’s booth while he was stationed at the family’s other fairground venture, Barnacle Bill’s, which sold fish and chips (it’s now incorporated into the Hunky Bill’s booth). Their two adult daughters, Rachel and Katy, are now regulars in the perogy tent.
  • Clayton says dad has always been a tough taskmaster and “started breaking us in when we were 8 or 9.” He remembers working full-time at the fair when he was 13.
  • In the off-season, Clayton works at his business, Cottage Creek Homes, along with Mark, who was born the year Hunky Bill’s opened at the fair. Bill Jr. is a horse trainer and remembers being a kid frying sausage in the back of the booth while his dad “yelled and screamed.” Today, his son Bill (technically Bill Jr. Jr.) is in the booth working alongside his cousins, including Mark’s sons John, Ryan and Adam. The grandchildren are pondering various careers, from welding to teaching math, but expect they’ll always be on perogy duty for, like, ever.
  • So, perogies as a family legacy. Who knew?
  • Well, Bill Konyk did. And he’s not shy about saying so. In fact, he is fond of such bon mots as: “If the Colonel knew about chicken what Hunky Bill knows about perogies, he’d be a general today.”
  • And then there’s the Hunky Bill mantra, which everyone in the family can recite in their sleep: “A perogy is a crescent-shaped type of dumpling filled with a seasoned blend of potatoes and cheese topped with a Ukrainian ice cream called sour cream.
  • “Working hard, says Konyk, is a lesson he learned early on from his father, as was the expectation that your kids, and their kids, would work hard, too.
  • Oh, and dad told him that whenever he had a little extra money, he should buy real estate. He took all that advice, and once even bought a pub, The Dover Arms, that he has since sold.
  • After this year’s fair, Bill Sr. will be sitting down with the family to talk about the Konyk legacy and how he and Kay might start enjoying some of the perks of their labour.
  • But he’s not done yet. He’s still selling his invention, The Perogie Maker, is thinking of getting into the perogy delivery business and, later this month, will feed perogies to 600 at a Salvation Army dinner.
  • So, just how good have perogies been to the Konyks?
  • In 1967, Hunky Bill did $5,800 worth of business during the fair. Last year, he handed $80,000 in “rent” over to the PNE, which represents an undisclosed contractual percentage that food vendors pay the fair based on sales.
  • And all you can think is, holy perogies, that’s a lot of dough.
sfralic@vancouversun.com
© (c) CanWest MediaWorks Publications Inc.

I hope you enjoyed this little diversion I’ve offered. After reading all about Bill, I will be ordering a perogie maker very soon. I can’t wait and neither can my family! The link again to check out more about the item is http://hunkybill.biz/shop/catalog/browse?shop_param=.

 

 
 


Posted in Miscellaneous | 5 Comments

“There Is No Tavern In the Town, In the Town”

Posted on April 9, 2012 by Jim

There were two aspects of life in Duquesne that were commonplace for virtually every hunky living in the area, as evidenced by the sheer number of locations.

The first was the spiritual side of their lives. As early as 1902, the City of Duquesne already had 16 established churches of various creeds. As the city’s population grew, more and more churches and congregations sprang-up. It was obvious, from an early date; the people of Duquesne practiced their religious beliefs and lived their lives based on their spiritual roots.

 The second aspect of life that seemed to touch most lives was the Duquesne hunky’s hard-working, life-loving point-of-view and their affinity for the neighborhood bar. By 1940, there were over 48 locations where the locals could meet to “throw back a few” after a hard day at the mill. Whether they called it a “Beer Garden,” a “Tavern,” a “Café,” a “Bar,” a “Hotel,” or perhaps a “Club,” the purpose was all the same. They all provided a perfect spot to meet, relax, “B.S.” (if you’ll pardon the inference,) and just be part of the community.  The cocktail of choice was the “boilermaker”, a.k.a. “a shot and a beer.” Bartenders didn’t need a degree in mixology to work in Duquesne since the 99.9% of the patrons would order the shot and beer.

I’ve often wondered how the Prohibition affected the city and the residents of Duquesne. Prohibition in the United States was a national ban on the sale, manufacture, and transportation of alcohol, in place from 1919 to 1933. The ban was mandated by the Eighteenth Amendment to the Constitution, and the Volstead Act set down the rules for enforcing the ban, as well as defining the types of alcoholic beverages that were prohibited.

 As evidenced by the action of the Pennsylvania State Legislature, the State and therefore the City of Duquesne didn’t begin a strict enforcement of Prohibition until the first part of

The Old VFW Building

1923. I can only imagine what the reaction was in the city with the mandatory closings of every establishment occurred in 1923. I am sure that many of the citizens from “the old country” were dumbfounded when they went to their favorite watering hole to find it chad losed. I’m sure this was a dark day in Duquesne. Scattered throughout the Duquesne Times in the subsequent decade, were articles that read like a chapter from an Elliot Ness Diary. Speakeasies, raids, G-Men and the sort, were frequently in the headlines. Duquesne was no different than the rest of America in its pursuit of “spirits!”

The following is a transcription of a front page article that appeared in The Duquesne Times on March 30, 1923, and sums up the effect of the major legislation on the day that there was not longer “A Tavern in the Town:”

March 30, 1923

25 SALOONS IN

DUQUESNE MUST

CEASE BUSINESS

GOVERNOR PINCHOT’S DRASTIC

“DRY” BILL LEGISLATURE

AND IS NOW THE

LAW OF THE STATE

A Revolutionary Action

Pennsylvania Governor Gifford Pinchot

The new act is one of the most important ever passed by the Pennsylvania legislature and has aroused extraordinary interest. The bill was passed by a vote of 107 to 100, and was signed immediately by the governor. Among those who voted against the measure were J.M.Williams and C.J.McBride, the two representatives from the district of which Duquesne is part.Just what action the Duquesne saloon-keepers will take remains to be seen. It is said that in a number of instances, they will close their bars and retire, while in other cases they will engage in other lines of business at their present locations. As a result of the passage of the bill, no license court will be conducted this year and all license fees will be lost to the state and city. Duquesne men and women who lose their licenses are as follows: Retailers, John P. Ashoff, Michael Benedick, Moses W. Broudy, Joseph Burik, Mary Koribanic, Peter Linn, Janet McFadden, Dane Rendulic, John Ridall, Jr., Anthony P. Slavin, Mihal Stofa, Jacob Virostek, Harris Weinstein, Theordore Zarezalo, and Peter N. Zewe, of the First Ward; Steve Farkas, Chas. Hrebemac, Matthew Petraitis and Rose Schaming of the Second Ward, and Albert Blaobiny, George Hromi, Joseph Kovac, Mary Kovac, Michael Mosko and Michael Polatas of the Third ward. Licenses are also lost to three wholesalers in business here: Steve Babic, William Klein and Harry Silberman.New “Dry” LawThe salient points contained in the new “Dry” law are as follows:Repeals the Brooks high license act with the Woner act amendments and thus abolishes all licenses for the sale of beverages with the half of (one) 1 percent of alcoholic content permitted under the Volstead act.

It allows the sale of such drinks without restrictions and any change in authorized content that shall be made by Congress, will automatically become effective in Pennsylvania.

It permits search without warrant, by any officer, of any automobile, truck or other vehicle, boat or airplane or of any container carried by a pedestrian whom he may suspect is being used to carry intoxicating liquor.

The search and seizure clause authorizes a warrant for the entrance of a house at any time, upon information alleging reasonable grounds for belief that liquor is being sold on the premises, and any liquor found may be seized, the owner being obligated to prove that the same was acquired prior to the enactment of the bill. The Volstead act restrictions, as to the issuance of such warrants, are provided.

Alder, magistrates and justices-of-the-peace are authorized to issue warrants.

Places other than homes may be searched, under search warrants which allege reasonable grounds for belief that liquor is either unlawfully possessed, sold, manufactured or stored therein.

Any building or place where liquor is being made or sold unlawfully may be closed as public nuisance for one year.

Violation of the law is punishable by fine of from $100 to $5,000, or imprisonment for terms up to three years in addition to confiscation of liquor and property including automobiles or other vehicles used in unlawful transportation.

It provides that possession of intoxicating liquor shall be prima facia evidence that it was acquired, possessed and used unlawfully, and the burden proof that it was not, rests upon the accused.

Posted in Food and Restaurants, Historic Events, Stores and Businesses | 10 Comments

Easter Perspective

Posted on April 5, 2012 by Jim

I may have posted this picture before, but I liken it to pulling out your Christmas decorations each year. If you’re like me, many of our Christmas ornaments hold special memories and immediately put me into a Christmas mood. This photograph has the same effect on me. It immediately helps me to understand the immense signifigance of what occurred on Good Friday, and the price Christ paid for our sins.

I took this picture in 1970. For those of you that do not recognize the location, the statue is a memorial that is in Saint Joseph’s Cemetery. It was erected years ago and is dedicated to the Pastor’s of Duquesne’s St. Joseph Church that are buried at its base. A storm was approaching at the time I took the photo and provided the cloud cover befitting the subject.

                                                     LET US NEVER FORGET

The Jewish high priests and elders of the Sanhedrin accused Jesus of blasphemy, arriving at the decision to put him to death. But first they needed Rome to approve of their death sentence, so Jesus was taken to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor in Judea. Although Pilate found him innocent, unable to find or even contrive a reason to condemn Jesus, he feared the crowds and let them decide Jesus’ fate. Stirred by the Jewish chief priests, the crowds declared, “Crucify him!”

As was common, Jesus was publicly scourged, or beaten, with a leather-thonged whip before his crucifixion. Tiny pieces of iron and bone chips were tied to the ends of each leather thong, causing deep cuts and painful bruising. He was mocked, struck in the head with a staff and spit on. A prickly crown of thorns was placed on his head and he was stripped naked. Too weak to carry his cross, Simon of Cyrene was forced to carry it for him.

He was led to Golgotha where he would be crucified. As was the custom, before they nailed him to the cross, a mixture of vinegar, gall, and myrrh was offered. This drink was said to alleviate some of the suffering, but Jesus refused to drink it. Stake-like nails were driven through his wrists and ankles, fastening him to the cross where he was crucified between two convicted criminals.

The inscription above his head tauntingly read, “The King of the Jews.” On the cross Jesus hung for his final agonizing breaths, a period that lasted about six hours. During that time, soldiers cast lots for Jesus’ clothing, while people passed by shouting insults and scoffing. From the cross, Jesus spoke to his mother Mary and the disciple John. He also cried out to his father, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?”

At that point, darkness covered the land. A little later, as Jesus gave up his spirit, an earthquake shook the ground, ripping the Temple veil in two from top to bottom. Matthew’s Gospel records, “The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life.”

It was typical at crucifixions for Roman soldiers to show mercy by breaking the criminal’s legs, thus causing death to come more quickly. But this night only the thieves had their legs broken, for when the soldiers came to Jesus, they found him already dead. Instead, they pierced his side. Before sunset, Jesus was taken down by Joseph of Arimathea and laid in a tomb according to Jewish tradition.

Posted in Church and School - St. Joseph, Holidays - Non-Christmas and New Years, Springtime | 3 Comments

Hopping Down the Easter Trail!

Posted on April 4, 2012 by Jim

Today, my wife and I had to stop by Walmart to pick-up a few items we needed for an Easter basket that we were preparing. As I was walking through aisle after aisle of Easter candy, treats, baskets, decorations and God knows what else, I realized that the previously simple job of buying Easter goodies had become a very complicated task. One could no longer just go and purchase a bag of jelly beans, we tried, and it’s impossible! There had to be at least 30 to 40 different types of jelly beans at Walmart! They had every flavor, every color, and every brand imaginable. Seriously, jellybeans are simple items. Red ones are supposed to taste like cherries, orange ones like oranges and black ones like licorice! That’s not the case anymore. I found red ones that were passion fruit flavored, orange ones that were mango-tangerine flavored and black ones that were espresso flavored. I don’t get it!!!!

 I thought back to when I was still the recipient of an Easter basket back home in Duquesne, and what exactly did I receive. Of course, there was the traditional milk chocolate bunny. It always depended on whether my dad’s business was having a good year or bad year that determined if I would a solid chocolate rabbit or a hollow one. (Gotta love those good years!)

This photo was taken in our living room in 1954. I was 3 years old and apparently mighty happy with the candy I was eating based on my chocolate covered mouth!

Mom would recycle our Easter baskets from year to year for my brother and I. The only change would be the color of the cellophane Easter grass, and every so often, the basket would be wrapped in a huge sheet of cellophane. When Steve and I would wake-up on Easter morning, once we were given permission, we’d race down the stairs and into the dining room to be greeted by two large baskets brimming with goodies. We would run and grab our baskets and then high-tail it back to the sofa, taking just a few minutes to peer through the cellophane to assess what the Easter Bunny had brought us.

 In contrast to the HUGE array of treats available today, the candy assortment we received at Easter was rather simple. The centerpiece was always the chocolate bunny standing proudly in the center of the basket, poised and ready to become an earless hare in a matter of minutes. Surrounding the bunny was an array of smaller chocolate critters to include baby bunnies, lambs and chicks. They were normally milk chocolate, but occasionally the lamb would be white chocolate. The rest of the basket would be made up of foil covered chocolate eggs, fruit flavored jellybeans (a.k.a. Jelly Bird Eggs), chocolate covered marshmallow eggs, and speckled eggs (a.k.a. Robin Eggs) that tasted like malted balls when you bit into them minus the chocolate covering. The truth be told, I wasn’t a big fan of them and Mom and Dad usually ended up eating them. In fact, I believe they purposely loaded the baskets with them so they could munch on them without feeling guilty.

I recall that there were often large boxed candy eggs sitting on the dining room table. They were usually Fruit and Nut eggs. The inside was filled with a dense white nougat that was surrounding dried fruits and nuts. The entire egg was then dipped in milk chocolate, decorated with a few sugar flowers, wrapped in cellophane and then boxed for Easter. I never ate them since I hated nuts. Besides, they reminded me of fruitcake at Christmas time and probably weighed as much!

 I was always amazed how Mom was able to keep track of how much candy we had consumed from the basket. Since I had no concept of moderation, I would have eaten the entire contents of the basket on Easter morning if Mom hadn’t placed specific limitations on how much my brother and I could eat. Her strategy must have been to get us wired on an appropriate amount of sugar so that we were “nearly” bouncing off the walls just prior to visiting my grandparents. It usually worked!

After the excitement of reviewing our Easter baskets on Easter morning, we would be hustled up to our room to begin getting ready for church. My mom always made sure we were all “gussied-up” for Mass, so extra time was always needed to prepare. Mom and Dad also would don their very best for Easter that morning and we would all proudly march down our driveway into the family car as if we were conducting our own “Easter Parade” on Thomas Street.

 As a very young child, I remember entering Holy Name Church on Easter morning and being overwhelmed by the amount of flowers that decorated the altar and sanctuary. Huge white Easter lilies were everywhere and the pungent scent of fresh flowers filled the entire church. All of the ladies and young girls had their Easter bonnets in place along with their prettiest dresses and every male member of the congregation looked very dapper.

I remember becoming very fidgety during the Mass on Easter. I was usually well-behaved for Masses of normal length; however Easter meant that the Mass had much more content, more music and more pomp and ceremony. All of those “extras,” coupled with the kick I was feeling from my morning dose of Easter basket sugar, didn’t help the situation. Usually by Communion time, my parents were ready to pull their hair out, and as a result, we would often make a quick retreat out of the church immediately after Mom and Dad had received communion. Not the best example to set for us, but much better than strangling your kids in church because they’re driving you crazy!

The remainder of Easter Sunday was spent at my grandfather’s house on Duquesne Ave. in West Mifflin with the entire Volk extended family as well as several family friends. We’d all arrive in our Easter finery and immediately begin posing for pictures. The trick was to take our pictures upon arrival and before we began digging into the numerous baskets of candy and other treats that were scattered around the house. Also, once we began playing outside, it was a lost cause to think they could round us up for a picture or expect us to look like anything except a disheveled mess! 

Dinner was usually served around 4 p.m. and consisted of all of the Hunky basics; slices of ham, stuffed cabbage rolls, kielbasa, mashed potatoes, beets with horseradish, sirecz, hard-boiled Easter eggs, and tons of baked goods including poppyseed and nut rolls and paska. Everyone would have a special Easter egg that had our name on it. At the meal, we would peel our egg and then cut it into several pieces. We would then share a piece of our egg with every family member present and they would do the same with their egg. This was a tradition that was carried on every year. 

Life was good, we didn’t know what we didn’t have. All we knew was that we were surrounded by a loving family of hunkies that made every day of our lives in Duquesne, a lifetime special memory.

I hope that you all have a very blessed holiday with family and friends, and that you enjoy many, many more to come! Nádherný veľkonočné požehnanie všetkým svojim priateľom! HAPPY EASTER!

                      And remember to share and share alike – STEVE!!!

 

Posted in Holidays - Non-Christmas and New Years, Springtime, Stores and Businesses | 20 Comments

SIRECZ – WITH VIDEO

Posted on March 29, 2012 by Jim

I have to admit; I read the recipe and instructions for preparing Slovak Easter Cheese (SIRECZ or HRUDKU) and was a bit befuddled about the instructions and whether or not I should attempt this Slovak delicacy. After a bit of investigation I was able to locate a video that demonstrates the entire process! The only problem however, is that the video was made in Slovakia and the dialogue is entirely in Slovak!

Unfortunately, the words that I learned to speak in Slovak were very few and to tell you the truth, were rather “graphic” in nature. They mostly dealt with body parts and other inappropriate things. My dad and grandfather must have liked seeing the expression on my grandmother’s face when “Little Jimmy” would innocently spout-off some of these “adult words.” The result was Grandma usually chasing Dad and Grandpa with a wooden spoon. I was too small to remember, but my Aunt Peggy still talks about it.

Anyway, I’ve digressed a bit. After I watched the video below, I am happy to say that I am going to attempt the recipe. The woman in the video actually makes it seem rather simple, and for some reason, the sound of her speaking Slovak was comforting and reassuring.

I gleaned as much from it as I could and located the recipe below which seems to closely match hers. Please let me know if you attempt the recipe and how you sirecz turns out.

Veľa šťastia a Veselé Velikonoce, or in other words, Good Luck and Happy Easter!

Ingredients

12 eggs

1 quart whole milk

1 cup white sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, or to taste (OPTIONAL) 

Directions 

1. Crack eggs into a large saucepan and beat with a whisk. Whisk in milk, sugar, salt and cinnamon. Cook over medium-low to low heat, stirring constantly until the mixture fully forms curds and the whey separates. This will take 20 to 30 minutes. Using higher heat or failing to stir will result in a big pan of sweet scrambled eggs.

 

2. Drain the mixture into a colander lined with several layers of cheese cloth. Use the cloth to shape into a ball and twist the top to remove excess moisture. Secure with a twist tie. Hang for several hours or overnight. I do it on the spigot of the kitchen sink (which would probably wig out the germ police, but I haven’t gotten botulism in 34 years). Of course, you could let it drain initially there and then finish it overnight in the fridge suspended over a deep bowl.

CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO VIEW THE VIDEO –

velkonocna-hrudka-recept-na-velkonocnu-hrudku

 

 

Posted in Food and Restaurants | 14 Comments