Remembering The Sights, Sounds and Smells of the Christmas of My Youth

Posted on December 21, 2013 by Jim

There are so many memories that come rushing back to me at this time of year. Each one of my senses trigger a recollection of Christmastime. I consider these a few of MY favorite things:

* The aroma that emanates from a good old hunky kitchen as the smell of stuffed cabbage cooking mixes with the smell of nut rolls baking in the oven.
* The overwhelming fragrance of the Christmas tree as you walk into the living room. Viewing windows that have steamed-up from all of the Christmas cooking being done in the home’s kitchen.
* Looking out of your bedroom window and watching snow gently fall at night with the amber glare of the streetlights causing it to glisten and sparkle.
* The feel of the soft needles of your Christmas tree and the stickiness of the sap as it seeps out of the branches.
* Walking in a snowfall and feeling the flakes fall gently on your reddened cheeks.
* Attempting to remember and sing the Twelve Days of Christmas with your friends and NEVER getting it quite right.
* Hearing Christmas carols from the speakers at City Hall as you pass by on a snowy December evening.
* Walking between stores in McKeesport and hearing the bells ringing as Salvation Army volunteers stood guard at their red kettles.
* Lying in bed as a child and waking up you sibling or your parents cause you were convinced that you heard something or someone walking on your roof on Christmas Eve.

I remember the thrill of seeing the windows at Holy Name School after we had painted them with Christmas images. It was always a big debate as to what we would paint. We would do every window in the class room, using about 5 or 6 basic colors of poster paint. Red, green, blue, yellow, black and white were our color choices. I would always volunteer to paint and we would work in teams. By the end of the day, the windows began to resemble stained glass windows and we all felt an enormous sense of pride and accomplishment.

Rather than continue to describe the sights, smells and sounds of the Christmases of my youth, I thought it better to allow you to journey with me. I have provided four videos for you to watch below. To do so, all you need to do is to click on the white arrow in the middle of each screen. There might be a short commercial before the video begins, and it might take a few seconds to load, but I am confident that you’ll enjoy each one.

The first video is one that I produced to do along with one of my favorite Christmas carols. For those of you who attended Holy Name Grade School in Duquesne, the familiarity is especially heartwarming since the nuns who were singing were our own Sisters of St. Joseph from Baden, PA.

Beyond all other Christmas music, this song and album immediately “brings it home” for me. 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. 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.

I visited the Sisters of St. Joseph – Baden website, again and discovered that the album was still available on CD through their Gift Shop. If you would like to get a copy for yourself, here’s how:
Click HERE for CD order form.
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

The next audio recording is a real throwback. I can remember listing to this story when I was little but cannot remember when and where. It might have been at my grandfather’s house, perhaps when I was attending Holy Name School, or even in our own home. It’s the story of “The Littlest Angel.” This version was recorded in 1949 with none other than Loretta Young as the narrator!! The recording is over 17 minutes long, but worth EVERY minute. Be sure to pour yourself a nice hot cup of coffee, tea or cider to listen to this one, and be sure to light your Christmas tree as well.

Finally, I offer you two videos that are by current groups. I know, don’t roll your eyes. I am confident that you will love them. The first is a Christmas version of the current popular song “Hallelujah.” This is not the familiar Hallelujah Chorus that we all know and love. This is a totally different song. I’ve included the lyrics for you to follow along with if you would like. It is by an American group called Cloverton and was recorded at a New York coffee house. Take the time to enjoy the entire piece. It is so uplifting!

I’ve heard about this baby boy
Who’s come to earth to bring us joy
And I just want to sing this song to you
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
With every breath I’m singing Hallelujah
Hallelujah

A couple came to Bethlehem
Expecting child, they searched the inn
To find a place for You were coming soon
There was no room for them to stay
So in a manger filled with hay
God’s only Son was born, oh Hallelujah
Hallelujah

The shepherds left their flocks by night
To see this baby wrapped in light
A host of angels led them all to You
It was just as the angels said
You’ll find Him in a manger bed
Immanuel and Savior, Hallelujah
Hallelujah

A star shown bright up in the east
To Bethlehem, the wisemen three
Came many miles and journeyed long for You
And to the place at which You were
Their frankincense and gold and myrrh
They gave to You and cried out Hallelujah
Hallelujah

I know You came to rescue me
This baby boy would grow to be
A man and one day die for me and you
My sins would drive the nails in You
That rugged cross was my cross, too
Still every breath You drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Finally, one of my mother’s favorite Christmas carols was Little Drummer Boy. I remember her singing along with it while she would be cooking. I have always enjoyed the song myself and have heard it performed by countless groups. However, the version below is by a group of young people who accomplished their performance acappella. It is outstanding and so different. Take the time to enjoy this special song…. I sure did.

Peace, blessing and wishes for a fantastically Merry Christmas to all of my friends, neighbors and family who read this blog.

Posted in Christmas Memories, Church and School - Holy Name, Life in General, Movies, Music, Radio and TV, Wintertime | 6 Comments

When Christmas Meant Traditions and Family

Posted on December 18, 2013 by Jim

My mother was Croatian, my father was Slovak. As a result, I was immersed in two different Eastern European cultures, each with their own set of traditions. It seems that these traditions came to the forefront during the holiday season.

As a Slovak, I was fortunate to be able experience one of the most beloved Christmas traditions, the Vilija (pronounced vă – lē´ -yă.) Vilija is the traditional Christmas eve gathering and dinner that is rich with traditional foods, religious symbolism and family.

The vilija continues to this day in my family, and although the venue may have changed, the traditions and symbolism remains intact. What an incredible testimony and homage to the parents, grandparents and hunky culture that helped to set our moral compass.

A bit further in this post, I have included a 2005 article from the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review by Karin Welzel. The author does an outstanding job of explaining the tradition, the content and the meaning behind the celebration. As a first generation Slovak Family, we followed these traditions to an extent, but through the years, they were adapted to a degree. Rather than be redundant, allow me to give you my impressions and memories of the event as I experienced it in the 50’s.

The vilija always took place at my Uncle Gary and Aunt Helen’s home in West Mifflin. Just like a scene from “A Big Fat Greek Wedding,” I remember entering their house and immediately getting drawn into the crowd of family that were already preparing the feast.

Their home was always decked out with Christmas decorations galore and every light in the house seemed to be burning. Usually, by Christmas Eve in Western Pennsylvania, the weather had usually taken a definite turn and it was normally either snowing or on the verge of doing so. For that reason, whenever I entered their home, it felt so toasty warm compared to the outdoors. Their windows were usually steamed up from all of the cooking that was occurring and from the cranked-up thermostat (Grandma was always cold you know). And then there were the smells! The freshly cut Christmas tree scent hit me as soon as I entered the house. (It must have been the magic aspirins!) Combined with the smell of fresh pine was the amazing aroma emanating from the kitchen and dining room.

All of my aunts were buzzing around a rather cramped kitchen preparing all of the traditional foods. Somehow, all of the foods which were part of our everyday lives growing up as a hunky smelled so much better on Christmas Eve! Stuffed cabbages, pirogies, kielbasa and poppy seed rolls smelled like food for the gods! I was a very picky eater in those days, but somehow, I became a modern-day foodie during the vilija.

My uncles had the responsibility of creating a dining surface large enough to accommodate our ever-growing family. Since my dad was one of 8 children, the number of people attending was quite large. There was no such thing as a “kids table” in those days, so the eating surface had to accommodate approximately 25 people PLUS the feast itself. The table was usually assembled using two tables which supported large sheets of plywood. It was at least 16 feet long, extended from the dining room into the living room and was always covered with crisp white linens. There were never any decorations on the table, only food, lots and lots of food! The chairs that surrounded the table were a potpourri of chairs from around the house, the out-of-town neighbors and often times from St. Michael’s Church hall. Your seat may not have matched with the neighboring chair, but every family member had their place.

The timing of the dinner was very strategic. It was essential that we ate and were finished with dinner by 6 p.m. In those days, it was important that we allowed for the correct about of time before receiving communion at midnight mass. The Roman Catholic Church has very specific rules governing communion.

Grandpa would always begin the vilija with a blessing. This would be followed by the passing of oplatky (unleavened bread that had been blessed by the parish priest). We would pass a large square piece of oplatky and each person would break a small piece off to be consumed in unison at the end of Grandpa’s blessing. I remember that the oplatky would always come to the table in an envelope that was decorated with a colorful representation of the birth of Christ.

Once we had taken our oplatky, the feast began. With amazing speed and dexterity, plates and bowls of food were passed around the table and plates were loaded up to the max. Jokes, teasing, memories, and plans for the holidays were just some of the discussions that occurred during the meal. My dad would always be yelled at by my mom and my Aunt Helen for something he might have said to instigate some trouble, but that was expected, and welcome. After the main courses were completed, out came platters and platters of goodies. Poppyseed, apricots and walnuts seemed to be part of every creation. Each would probably be capable of clogging any artery in the room, but somehow, it either didn’t happen or didn’t matter in those days. Our naivety was bliss in those days.

Once the dinner was over, my aunts would begin clean-up. Sexist or not, that was the way it was in those days. The men would gather and have some celebratory “shots” and beers, the kids would share their wish lists with each other and the ladies would clean-up the remnants of the feast. There seemed to be an unspoken exception to the communion rule in our family that shots and beers didn’t count when it came to abstaining before communion. Go figure. After everything was in order, each family departed to get ready for midnight mass at their own parish church. Fully stuffed and raring to go, the remainder of the Christmas Eve activities still lay ahead.

Each individual family unit would attend Midnight Mass at their own parish. The majority of my Slovak aunt and uncles on my dad’s side attended St. Michael’s Parish in Munhall/Homestead. My Uncle Hank’s family were members of St. Theresa’s in Munhall and we were members of Holy Name Church in Duquesne.

I remember the sensory overload that hit me every year at midnight mass at Holy Name. After entering the church from the cold, dark night, the church looked brighter and more radiant that at any other time. The was a distinct fragrance that filled the air. It was a combination of the radiators going full tilt to warm the church, the smell of beeswax candles burning brightly, the aroma of pine and poinsettia, and the subtle whiffs of cologne that you could detect from the ladies in congregation.

Before becoming an altar boy, my perspective was always the same sitting with my family. We always sat on the extreme right hand side of the church, approximately three-quarters of the way from the front of the church. If nothing else, we were consistent. The location was a bit awkward for me however. It was great for hearing the choir perfectly, but it made it impossible to be able to turn around and gawk at them.

Halfway through the Mass, I was usually fidgety and VERY anxious to get on with the evening. Although it seemed like hours, we were finally able to head on out to enjoy the rest of our Christmas Eve traditions. Prior to the death of my mom when I was 12, our Christmas eve ended shortly after we returned home after Mass. Mom would allow my brother and I to have a few cookies and a glass of milk before we went to bed, and then set out a plate for Santa. We were ALWAYS very cooperative on Christmas Eve and went straight to bed. Steve and I would usually discuss what would be happening that evening while we tried to quash our excitement enough to sleep. In truth, the fact that it was already into the wee hours of the morning, it didn’t take long for us to conk out.

After my mother had passed away, we changed our Christmas Eve tradition. Instead of returning home, Dad, Steve and I would traipse on up to 3334 Duquesne Ave, Grandpa’s house, and join all of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins for a continuation of the Christmas celebration. Aside from the re-emergence of all of the food from earlier in the evening, shots and beer as well as whiskey sours would become the “beverages of choice” for the evening.

I never bought into the next part of the evening however. Everyone would begin presenting and opening their Christmas gifts. This included any gifts that had been previously placed under the tree. I never understood this concept, since the excitement on would experience on Christmas morning FAR outweighed opening gifts the night before. To this day, the conflict and debate continues in my family. My oldest daughter, Megan, married into a family who firmly held onto their tradition of opening ALL presents on Christmas Eve. I am happy to report that she has managed to uphold the Christmas morning unveiling… so far. Now that she’s the Mom in the house with my grandson and another on the way, Andy, her husband accepts the adage, “If Momma Ain’t Happy, Ain’t NOBODY Happy!”

In addition to the Tribune-Review article, I wanted to share a few family recipes that you might enjoy and consider using for Christmas this year. I hope you try them and ENJOY them with your families:

CHRISTMAS SOUPS

Peggy Volk Rusnica and Helen Volk

The following were part of the traditional dinner served on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Mushroom and Potato Soup Christmas Pea and Potato Soup

10 potatoes, cubed

2 lbs fresh mushrooms, or the canned equivalent, drained

2 cans sweet peas, drained, or the frozen equivalent

1/2 c flour

2 sticks butter or margarine

1 onion, finely chopped

2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. pepper

2 tbsp. vinegar

Boil potatoes until soft in approximately 4 quarts of water, reserving the water for later use. Slice the mushrooms. If using fresh mushrooms, precook in water for 15 minutes on a low boil, discarding water.

Divide the potatoes into two different pots. Place the mushrooms in one of the pots with the potatoes. Place the peas in the other pot of potatoes.

In a frying pan, create a zaprazka (roux) with flour and butter. Begin by melting the butter and sautéing the onion in the butter. Season with salt and pepper. Slowly add the flour to create the zaprazke (roux) that is medium brown in color. Slowly add reserved water from potatoes to the zaprazka over a low heat, stirring constantly. Heat until thickened.

Divide into two equal parts, adding one to the mushroom and potato mixture and one to the peas and potato mixture. Additional water can be added, if needed.

Add approximately 2 tablespoons (or to taste) of vinegar to the mushroom soup.

COLD DOUGH HORNS

Peggy Volk Rusnica and Helen Volk

This recipe is one that we have been using for years and it has never failed!

5 c. flour

4 sticks butter or margarine

4 eggs

4 Tbsp. baking powder

4 Tbsp. sour cream

Apricot filling, or filling of choice

Mix flour with butter or margarine, as for pie dough. Beat eggs lightly. Add to flour mixture. Add baking powder and sour cream. Mix all together and refrigerate overnight.

Roll the dough in sugar and flour. Cut in 4 inch squares and fill with apricot or other filling. After filling, bring one corner over the other at opposite ends. Bake at 375 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes. Approximately 120 horns.

RUSSIAN APRICOT TORTE

Helen Volk

DOUGH

1 pkg. dry yeast mixed with t c. water

4 c. flour, not self rising

3 sticks Oleo

4 egg yolks

1/2 c. milk

Combine yeast with warm water and set aside. Sift flour in a bowl and blend with Oleo until mealy. Add slightly beaten egg yolks, milk and yeast. Blend and stir mixture until it pulls away from the bowl. Place on a floured board and knead for a few minutes. Divide and cut dough into 3 sections. Let rise for 30 minutes. Roll the first section and place on a slightly greased 15 x 10 inch cookie sheet. Work the edges of the dough up along the edge.

FILLINGS

4 c. walnuts, ground

1 c. sugar

2 tsp. cinnamon

2 cans apricot filling

4 egg whites

8 Tbsp. sugar

Combine walnuts, sugar and cinnamon together and mix well. Set t cup of nut mixture aside for the topping. Spread the remaining nut mixture on top of the dough in the cookie sheet. Roll the second section of dough and place on top of the nuts. Spread apricot filling evenly over dough. Roll third section and place over apricots.

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Ten minutes before baking time is over, beat the egg whites until stiff. Add the sugar to the egg whites.

Remove torte from the oven and spread egg white mixture over the top. Sprinkle with remaining nuts and place in the oven to brown (for about 10 minutes). Cut into diamond-shaped pieces while still hot.

Aunt Helen made this torte for all holidays, weddings and special celebrations.

BOBULKY

These bite-sized dumplings can be made from frozen and thawed sweet bread dough to save time. Form portions of the dough into 1-inch rolls, then cut small pieces and bake.

 1 package active dry yeast

 1/2 cup lukewarm water

 1 teaspoon salt

 2 tablespoons granulated sugar, divided

 6 cups all-purpose flour, more for dusting board

 1/4 cup vegetable oil, more for greasing baking sheet

 About 2 cups tap water

 Boiling water

Dissolve the yeast in the lukewarm water. Add the salt and 1 tablespoon sugar. Let set to proof, for about 10 minutes.

Sift together the flour and remaining 1 tablespoon sugar. Add the yeast mixture, 1/4 cup oil and enough of the 2 cups tap water to make a workable dough. Knead well. Let the dough rise until doubled.

Meanwhile, grease a cookie sheet with oil.

Punch down the dough. Cut off portions of the dough about the size of an egg. Roll each out on a floured board by hand to make rolls about 1 inch in diameter. Cut into 1-inch pieces. Place the pieces on the prepared cookie sheet and let rise for about 20 minutes.

Heat the oven to 350 degrees.

Bake the dumplings for about 10 minutes, or until lightly browned. Let cool, then separate. Place in a colander and pour boiling water over them. Drain quickly to prevent sogginess.

Combine these mixtures with half of the bobalky:

Sauerkraut: Saute 1 small onion, chopped, in 2 tablespoons vegetable oil. Add 1 pound drained sauerkraut. Cook for about 15 minutes. Add to half of the bobalky.

Poppy seeds: Combine 1 cup ground poppy seeds, 2 tablespoons honey and 1/4 cup water. Add to the remaining bobalky.

Celebrating Slovak Style

By Karin Welzel

TRIBUNE-REVIEW

Sunday, December 11, 2005

From the straw scattered under the dining table to the honey that is spread onto thin oplatky to share among diners, the Slovak Christmas Eve meal — called the Vilija table — abounds with religious symbolism.

Christmas Eve is the most awaited day of the Christmas holiday season, according to Albina and Joseph Senko of Mt. Lebanon, members of Western Pennsylvania’s Slovak community.

“The big day is Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day,” says Albina Senko, a native of Spis in Slovakia. She is a director of the Western Pennsylvania Slovak Cultural Association, founded by her husband in 1997.

A certified public accountant with McKeever Varga & Senko and a certified financial planner, Joseph Senko also is honorary consul to the Slovak Republic.

The Senkos continue to observe the customs and traditions of their ancestry — Joseph Senko was born in Pittsburgh to Slovakian immigrants — and have made it a personal mission to educate Slovak-Americans and the general public about their culture. They are Roman Catholic, as are most of the inhabitants, but they say Byzantine and Orthodox Rite worshipers might follow similar traditions. Slovakia features a wide variety of dialects and customs, varying from region to region, village to village, family to family.

Albina Senko has her home decorated Slovak-style, including a table-size tree festooned with edible ornaments, such as whole walnuts and wrapped candy. There are intricate ornaments made from straw. On larger trees many years ago, family members used apples, paper roses and candles for decorations, too. The top of the tree often was a star made from straw.

Slovak cooks are busy on Christmas Eve, Albina Senko says. Sauerkraut-mushroom or pea soup, bobalky (sweet dough dumplings) and a variety of fish are a must, as well as meatless pirohy, to maintain the fast observed by the faithful during Advent, which begins the fourth Sunday before Christmas.

In anticipation of the celebration, hay or straw is placed under the tablecloth or under the table — or both places — to symbolize the poverty of Christ in a humble manger. Some families place straw in the center of the Advent candle wreath, Albina Senko says, and a figure of the baby Jesus is placed on top.

The table is covered with a white cloth as a symbol of the swaddling clothes of the Christ child. Another tradition is to set an extra place setting to receive a stranger or in honor of a deceased loved one.

The dinner starts at the sighting of the first star of the evening.

“You tell the youngest child to look for it — it may be that it’s just to keep them occupied, because there is a lot of expectation,” says Albina, adding that there is just as much merriment at her house for Christmas Eve now as when her six children were small. She has grandchildren who are excited about the lights, the dinner and gifts.

After the house and table are blessed using a pine bough and holy water, a mulled red wine steeped with cinnamon sticks or herbs and honey is served to diners. Albina Senko sweetens her wine with cranberry juice, cinnamon-sugar and a dash of nutmeg.

The ceremony then focuses on a waferlike “bread” called oplatky (altar bread) that is broken, dipped in honey and distributed to each family member, starting with the husband to his wife. The head of the household dips his thumb in honey and makes the sign of the cross on the foreheads of each member of the household so they will be reminded to keep Christ foremost in their thoughts and praying that harmony will sweeten their lives.

Part of this ceremony focuses on daughters who are eligible for marriage.

Says Albina Senko: “The mother takes honey on her finger, makes a cross on their heads and says, ‘May you be sweet and find a husband soon!’ I did it with my own daughters.”

The next course usually is a tart soup — sauerkraut and mushroom is a popular choice — to represent the bitter destiny of Christ and his suffering for humanity. The family then loads up their plates with bobalky, sweet dough balls baked and mixed with sauerkraut or poppy seeds, symbolic of a plentiful crop. Joseph Senko likes a topping of cottage cheese on them, too.

Platters display a variety of fish that has been floured and quickly sauteed in oil. Because Slovakia is land-locked, carp and trout are common, but Albina Senko likes white fish such as tilapia to grace her table.

Also served are pirohy stuffed with fillings ranging from sauerkraut to cheese and potato; and English peas, which represent a bountiful growing season. Albina Senko folds peas into a mayonnaise-rich potato salad; other families fold peas into hot mashed potatoes. Holubky are cabbage rolls stuffed with ground mushrooms and rice.

The Vilija ends on a sweet note, with nut and poppy seed rolls. Walnuts in the shell and apples also are placed on the table.

None of the foods contain meat, still keeping with the Advent fast.

To wrap up the meal sweetly, Slovaks traditionally serve kolaci, pastry rolls made with sweet dough filled with poppy seeds, dried fruit or nuts.

In recognition of the empty seat at the table, none of the food is removed from the table after the diners are finished. “It’s for the people who couldn’t be there,” Albina Senko says. Before midnight in Slovakia, the animals in the barns are given remnants of the meal — the food from the table is supposed to make them healthy and productive for the coming year.

The Senkos host tours regularly to Slovakia to acquaint Americans with their culture. Albina Senko is a retired travel tour operator, as well as a frequent translator for Slovakian visitors and officials who visit Pittsburgh. It is their wish to improve the lives of their countrymen across the sea and bring Slovakian culture into the homes of the general public.

AND IN CLOSING…….MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF MY DUQUESNE AND HUNKY FRIENDS AND READERS!!! – Jim Volk, The Duquesne Hunky

Posted in Christmas Memories, Hunky Celebrations, Wintertime | 26 Comments

A Little Duquesne Hunky’s Christmas Toyland

Posted on December 11, 2013 by Jim

OK. I know I haven’t written for awhile, but things have been a little crazy on my end. Getting ready for the holidays has been a bit chaotic this year, and with a grandson who turned two in July, the concept of Christmas, Santa and toys has become VERY real in his little eyes.

I’ve been fortunate to have been able to spend a lot of time visiting my grandson over the past few weeks. There has been much going on at my daughter’s house in Exton, PA, so I have been helping her get ready for the holidays. We received the wonderful new that Jackson is about to become a Big Brother with grandson #2 scheduled to arrive in May, 2014!

One of the most enjoyable parts of visits with my grandson has been sharing his excitement about Christmas and Santa Claus’ upcoming visit. He and I began a long standing tradition of paging through toy catalogs while listening to Christmas music while I was there. I always enjoyed the anticipation of Christmas as a child. It would fill me with so much excitement and anticipation whenever a toy catalog would arrive in the mail or if I would see Christmas toy ads in the paper. The concept of TOYLAND was Utopia to me in those days.

I recall visiting many of the stores in Duquesne and McKeesport that loaded-up with toys for Christmas. Many stores that normally sold unrelated goods became marvelous havens for toys. The 2nd floor of Schink’s Hardware transformed each year. I remember the narrow steps that led too the second floor. They were to the left as you entered the store, somewhat tucked behind to front counter. I also recall occasional trips to a store near South Park at Christmas to look at toys. I believe it was normally a nursery/garden center called Versharons. What joy those visits brought me.

In order to share the excitement with you, why not pop on an old Christmas vinyl record album, grab a nice cup of coffee, tea or hot chocolate, turn on the Christmas tree and leaf through the pages of a toy catalog from Schink’s from 1954 AND some Christmas Greeting ads from the Duquesne Times from that same year. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Schink's 1954 toy ad

Posted in Uncategorized | 15 Comments

Thanksgiving Snow and Family Gatherings Revisited

Posted on November 27, 2013 by Jim

The Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving

It may be I am getting old and like too much to dwell, Upon the days of bygone years, the days I loved so well.

But thinking of them now I wish, somehow that I could know, a simple old Thanksgiving Day, like those of long ago.

When all the family gathered round a table richly spread, with little Jamie at the foot and grandpa at the head.

The youngest of us all to greet, the oldest with a smile, With mother running in and out and laughing all the while.

It may be I’m old-fashioned, but it seems to me today, We’re too much bent on having fun to take the time to pray.

Each little family grows up, with fashions of its own; it lives within a world itself, and wants to be alone.

It has its special pleasures, its circle, too, of friends; There are no get-together days; each one his journey wends,

Pursuing what he likes the best, in his particular way, Letting others do the same upon Thanksgiving Day.

I like the olden way the best, when relatives were glad To meet the way, they used to do when I was but a lad; The old home was a rendezvous for all our kith and kin, And whether living far or near they all came trooping in.

With shouts of ‘Hello, daddy!’ as they fairly stormed the place, and made a rush for mother, who would stop to wipe her face upon her gingham apron, before she kissed them all, hugging them proudly to her breast, the grownups and the small.

Then laughter rang throughout the home, and, Oh, the jokes they told; from Pittsburgh, Frank brought new ones, but father sprang the old.

All afternoon we chatted, telling what we hoped to do, The struggles we were making and the hardships we’d all gone through.

We gathered round the fireside, how fast the hours would fly- It seemed before we’d settled down ’twas time to say good-bye.

Those were the glad Thanksgivings, the old-time families knew. when relatives could still be friends and every heart was true.

I thought you might enjoy reading about the Thanksgiving snow of 1950 once again. Call it my lazy day before Thanksgiving attitude for not writing a fresh post, but I practicing for after I eat the big meal tomorrow!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

The following article appeared in The Duquesne Times on November 30, 1950. There was no Times published on November 23, 1950 due to the snowfall. Unfortunately, there were no photos in the Times published on November 30th, so a photojournalistic account of the snowfall does not exist.

I wasn’t witness to what eventually became known as “The Great Appalachian Storm of 1950” in the history books. I was born in 1951, and began to hear all of the local legends about the snowstorm at a very early age. The storm was an issue far beyond the boundaries of Duquesne and there are several recollections from people from the surrounding areas.

I have assembled some of those stories, some photos that I posted last year, plus a few new ones from other nearby communities. I hope you enjoy the recaps and that they conjure up some of your own memories. If they do, be sure to tell us about them in the comment section. If you are like me and were born after the event, tell us about stories your parents or relatives may have told you about the storm!

DUQUESNE DIGS OUT

The Duquesne Times – November 30, 1950.

Duquesne is gradually digging its way out of the greatest snowfall in local history.

Through the cooperation of the city, Carnegie-Illinois and the Rogan Trucking Co, all of the city’s main arteries were open for limited emergency travel within 24 hours.

By today, a large section of West Grant Avenue and the business district of First Street were free of snow.

With the exception of a few minor accidents Duquesne weathered the storm without a serious mishap.

Councilman Walter V. Babic who supervised “Operation Cleanup” is to be congratulated for coordinating the snow clearance program as are Mayor Frank Kopriver, Jr., his fellow councilmen and the other employees who worked around the clock to prevent any serious tragedy from occurring here.

Duquesne’s fire department spent a relatively quiet weekend, answering 5 calls none of which resulted in very much damage.

Duquesne’s schools closed since Friday will reopen for all classes on Monday.

We believe Mr. Babic used exceptionally good judgment in opening all arteries as a fire precautionary measure before attempting to remove the snow from any street. Had the occasion demanded, firemen would have been able to reach any point in the city on Monday.

City facilities were accorded persons stranded in Duquesne by the snow. Three college students spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday at the fire station leaving Monday morning to return to their classes at Penn State.

Two families, one from Norfolk and the other from Wilkinsburg were also given shelter at the Municipal building.

The greatest hazard today is that of overburdened roofs. Mayor Kopriver called on owners of flat roofed buildings to take every precaution by removing the snow at the earliest possible opportunity. The roof of a garage at the rear of 74 N First Street owned by Escovitz Furniture caved in causing extensive damage to a truck and several automobiles.

Duquesne Motor Coach Lines resumed operations on a limited schedule Wednesday afternoon after being idle for several days.

Postmaster Phillip McDermott reported that mail was being delivered as usual with exception of the department’s new mobile unit.

Streetcar traffic, disrupted Friday night bud not resumed operations at press time today.

Garbage collections on streets already cleared were resumed today. Officer William Raible requested that an effort be made to have all garbage in containers. Regular collection schedules will be resumed as soon as possible.

Taxi cabs are back in service offering transportation to any point where travel can be made.

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They Still Talk About the Ferocious Snowstorm of 1950

By Debra Erdley, TRIBUNE-REVIEW

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Headline writers called it “The Storm of the Century.”

On Nov. 23, 1950, Thanksgiving Day, the temperature dropped to a record five above. Then the snow began blowing.

By Friday morning, traffic was paralyzed by a coating of ice and 5 to 7 inches of snow.

The storm continued all day.

By Saturday morning, a dozen heart attack deaths were attributed to the storm.

By early Sunday morning, the city was buried under 2 feet of snow, with another 5 to 10 inches expected.

Thousands of workers were furloughed as mills and factories scaled back operations. Several buildings and countless porches collapsed under the weight of the snow.

By Monday, the local death toll had reached 27, and the Allegheny County Coroner cautioned “oldsters” — those 45 and older — against shoveling snow.

Some 25 miles east of the city, Irwin residents opened their homes to travelers. Motorists were stranded there when they exited the Pennsylvania Turnpike at what was then its western terminus and found Route 30 impassable.

Mayor David Lawrence called upon 200 National Guardsmen to enforce a city-ordered blockade of Pittsburgh’s Golden Triangle.

By the time it was over, the death toll from the storm would reach 278 in the Ohio Valley. Even icicles were deadly. A North Braddock man died after one at U.S. Steel’s Edgar Thomson Works broke loose and struck him.

But it wasn’t all death and disaster. There were 225 births in 15 Pittsburgh area hospitals during the storm.

“Many of them arrived ‘special delivery,’ their Mama got to the hospital via police car,” the Pittsburgh Sun Telegraph reported.

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Storytelling: 1950 Snowstorm Paralyzed the City But Not This Dad

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

By Ed Borrebach

Skiers make their way along a Squirrel Hill street following the great Thanksgiving weekend snowfall of 1950.

The day after Thanksgiving 1950, on Nov. 24, I was at work as an electrical engineer in Building L of the East Pittsburgh plant of Westinghouse Electric Corp.

Five months before I had accepted a job there after graduating from Tufts College in Massachusetts and had migrated in our new Plymouth, with our even newer, 6-week-old baby boy.

There had been some snow on the ground that morning, but who’s afraid of a little snow? So like one of the seven dwarfs (not naming which one), off to work I went, only thinking that it was the thing to do.

Really, though, not one of us knew that a major storm was on the way. We had only radio. No TV, no cell phones, no BlackBerrys. So there we were at work while the snow kept a-falling.

Finally, around noon, we were told by management that we could leave. I took the trolley car up Ardmore Boulevard, close to Rebecca Avenue in Wilkinsburg, where I’d parked my car. The snow was building up, with lots of big flat white snowflakes that had no thought of melting.

I cleaned off the car and drove off to Squirrel Hill, where we had a small basement apartment (the only type of residence we could afford on $315 a month salary) on Woodmont Street. I was not alone on the road; there were other drivers trying to get home before the storm worsened. It was a long, slow trip, but there wasn’t a Squirrel Hill Tunnel at the time, so it could have been worse!

I made it home, finally, and parked out front at the curb. The snowfall was intense. We soon found ourselves in a beautiful white world. The snow built up to more than 30 inches deep.

My car was just one of many cars completely hidden under snow. Each was just a lump in a world of white lumps. I put on overshoes, but the snow was too deep for them, so I shoveled my way to the street and scraped off the car top — I feared of a cave-in. Driving anywhere was out of the question.

Back in the basement we talked about our son and his diet of whole milk. Where could we buy some? It was necessary for me to venture out in search of some milk. I walked up to the corner of Murray and Forbes avenues looking for signs of life. I found no open stores.

You can see from the picture I took that the old Route 22-30 through Pittsburgh at the time was still completely impassable.

Finally, well down a road running parallel to Forbes, I found a milk truck (one that delivered pre-ordered quart bottles of milk daily to residences) and there I was able to plead for and buy a bottle. I still think of and give thanks to that dear man for daring to be out in such weather — even with chains on the wheels and the weight of the truck, it was no picnic — and for selling me a bottle of this life-giving nectar for my son.

I had just come from the Boston area, where people at that time seemed less friendly, to use a kind euphemism. I learned then and many times afterward that people in Pittsburgh are a friendly bunch. I loved it then and love it now

___________________________________________________________________

1950 Storm: Snowed-In and Happy

December 4, 2009

By BOB WHITED

On Thanksgiving Day, Nov. 23, 1950, I was nine years old in my little hometown village of Bridgeburg, Pa. Again, Thanksgiving was a great day for me and my family, which included my mother, father and brother. It was a pleasant day with a fine feast and many reasons to give thanks. We had no television at the time, but I listened to “Dragnet” on the radio that evening. During the late evening or early morning snow started to fall.

It was Friday morning, and we didn’t have school, thank goodness, due to the holiday. My father worked night shift at the local brickyard, and on Fridays we all went to Kittanning for groceries. My brother and I were hoping to take in a matinee at the movies. Before we piled into our 1946 maroon Plymouth, I had an early snowball fight with one of the neighbor kids. I just loved to see the snow come down, and by then, snow started to accumulate. We rushed to Kittanning quickly, which was a five-mile trip, and my parents purchased their weekly supply of groceries and hurried back home due to the weather and no tire chains on our car. There was no time for a movie matinee.

The snow kept pelting down with no end in sight. We arrived home safely, and my dad walked to work, since the brickyard was close by. What weather news we received was from the radio in between “The Lone Ranger” and other favorite radio programs. It was not great, and the snow continued to tumble down. On awakening Saturday, Nov. 25, 1950, we couldn’t believe our eyes. It was still snowing, and snow blanketed everywhere we looked. My dad returned home from work and measured 23 inches of snow at that time. He was called out later to shovel the roofs over the brick ware due to fear of weight and collapse of those roofs. By Sunday, the snow stopped completely, but school was canceled on Monday and all the rest of the week. This was truly the best part of the snowstorm. Everything was shut down.

Since then it has been called the Great Appalachian Storm of 1950 and the 1950 Great Thanksgiving Snowstorm. Nearly 30 inches of snow covered Pittsburgh, and 2 feet or more blanketed Cleveland. West Virginia, western Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio saw snowfall totals greater than 30 inches. Power was out to more than 1 million customers during this storm. It actually affected 22 states, killing 353 people and creating $66.7 million in damage. This, of course, was in 1950 dollars. U.S. insurance companies paid more money out to their policyholders for damage from this storm than for any other previous storm.

Steubenville’s snowfall exceeded 44 inches with snowdrifts up to 25 feet. The classic Ohio State-Michigan football game was scheduled on Saturday, Nov. 25, and was luckily played in Columbus where it was not quite as bad, but still is described as “The Blizzard Bowl.” The Big Ten Championship was on the line and a trip to the Rose Bowl. Michigan won 9-3 on 27 total yards gained without achieving one first down! Youngstown achieved 29 inches of snow. Many buildings collapsed under the weight of 2 to 3 feet of snow. The Ohio National Guard used Jeeps to transport people to hospitals and to deliver food to those in the rural areas. Ohio Gov. Frank Lausche declared a state of emergency in Cleveland, and the Youngstown-Warren area as drifts grew to 30 feet. Roads were closed; trains and buses canceled. People could not leave their homes for days. Milk and bread and other delivery trucks could not get through. School buses were halted, and it was a joyous occasions for all students. Snow clearing was much different in those days also, and, of course, they used no salt way back then.

So, here I sit on Saturday, Nov. 28, 2009, writing this piece some 59 years later with no snow but memories of the Great Thanksgiving Snowstorm of 1950.

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Post Thanksgiving Snowfall Left Mid-Mon Valley Paralyzed In 1950

By Ron Paglia, FOR THE TRIBUNE-REVIEW

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Read more: Post Thanksgiving snowfall left mid-Mon Valley paralyzed in 1950 – Pittsburgh Tribune-

Unless you owned a pack of Iditarod sled dogs, chances were you weren’t going too far in the mid-Monongahela Valley when one of the heaviest snowfalls on record brought the area to a virtual standstill two days after Thanksgiving on Nov. 23, 1950.

The subject brought a flurry of inquiries in the wake of the recent rash of bitter winter weather, which paled in comparison to Mother Nature’s knockout punch a little more than 59 years ago.

The Charleroi Mail and The Monessen Daily Independent reported on Nov. 25, 1950, that the district was “paralyzed” by the storm. The Mail said there was an official reading of 18 inches at 7 a.m. that day. The storm had a serious impact on businesses, mills and factories as transportation was, for the most part stopped.

“With no streetcar and only limited bus service, some employees made it to their businesses the hard way — by walking,” The Mail reported. “Some trudged into Charleroi through the deep snow from outlying districts in Belle Vernon, Dunlevy, Long Branch, Twilight, Fallowfield Township, Fisher Heights, North Charleroi, Mapleview and even Elco.”

Similar accounts of the aftermath appeared in The Daily Independent, which said the people in the Monongahela Valley area were “trying to dig out from under nearly two feet of snow … which began yesterday morning and was still falling at noon today.”

The newspaper noted that Blue Ridge Bus Lines, the Valley’s only public transportion link to the “outside world,” had stopped service as most district highways were almost entirely blocked. Other bus lines “threw their schedules away,” but Westside Motor Transit, which connected many Valley towns, and Hilltop Line, which served Monessen locally, “were sending occasional runs through,” The Independent reported.

The storm disrupted operations at the Allenport and Monessen plants of Pittsburgh Steel Company, but Page Steel and Wire Division, Monessen’s other large industry, continued to operate without a hitch, officials told the newspaper.

“Our biggest job right now is trying to keep coal moving for the steam plant,” Nick Polkabla, superintendent of industrial relations at Pittsburgh Steel in Monessen, said. “The coke works is only working 40 percent of capacity and shutting down this plant requires considerable work.”

At Allenport, General Works Manager Joseph Simonin said operations were near-normal, although some employees were unable to make it to the plant.

“We plan to adhere to the regular work week schedule,” Simonin told The Charleroi Mail. “If a department is unable to operate at full capacity, there will be other work for the men who are able to come to the plant. We do not plan to alter the work week schedule in any way.”

Polkabla said hundreds of men were unable to leave the mill Friday night and continued to work in their departments on overtime. Those who reported to work Saturday morning and whose departments were not working were put to work clearing ice and snow.

Municipal street crews throughout the Mon Valley were working extended schedules in an effort to clear the snow for vehicular and pedestrian traffic.

Pictures on the front page of The Daily Independent showed snow cleared from Donner Avenue and sidewalks piled nearly to the top of the parking meters. The large parking lot at Pittsburgh Steel was closed and many vehicles there were completely covered, and virtually hidden, by snow.

Telephone service was operating on an emergency basis as a result of many Bell Telephone Company employees being snowbound in their homes. J.L. Buchanan, manager of Bell operations in Charleroi, said some night employees were held over Saturday morning and operators were straggling in a few at a time. Bell officials in Monessen offered similar comments.

Other notes of interest, as reported in the newspapers, included:

• Richard Lawson, Donora funeral director who operates an ambulance service, spent Friday night and early Saturday morning driving his ambulance between Donora and Charleroi-Monessen Hospital. He made three trips during the night, carrying three mothers-to-be to the hospital. But on his third trip, Mr. Lawson had to ask for treatment for himself. His exertions in driving over the snow-covered roads had exhausted him and he had to be admitted for treatment at the hospital.

• The Pitt-Penn State football game scheduled for Saturday at Pitt Stadium was delayed until Monday.

• A banquet honoring the Monongahela American Legion Junior baseball team which won the 25th District and state championships earlier in the year went on as scheduled. Pennsylvania American Legion commander Joseph McCracken was the featured speaker.

• Radio Station WESA in Charleroi was praised by civic, government, industrial and religious leaders throughout the area for performing “an unprecedented public service” during the emergency. Granted permission by the FCC to continue operations around the clock, WESA operated on a 24-hour schedule throughout the crisis. The station broadcast bulletins and appeals from stricken residents at regular intervals, keeping listeners updated on developments.

• Milk trucks were making deliveries as rapidly as possible to all points — commercial and residential — where access was possible.

• Attendants at the Jones and McDonough Funeral Home in Bentleyville endured 13 hours of treacherous conditions on six miles of blocked highway in responding to a death at a home in Ginger Hill. The men left the funeral home at 11 a.m. Sunday and were preceded by a large bulldozer to fight mountainous snow drifts. The hearse finally got back to Bentleyville with the body at 2 a.m. Monday.

• An engine and caboose were placed in emergency use by Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad to convey a patient from Newell to Charleroi-Monessen Hospital. Arrangements were made for a Jeep to meet the rail cars at Belle Vernon station. Albert Manfield, who had been operating the Jeep to take doctors and nurses to and from the hospital, was called into service. A nurse also was waiting at Belle Vernon to assist the patient.

The storm, which dumped anywhere from two to three feet of snow in the area, had subsided by Nov. 27 and area residents were returning to “normal lives,” newspapers in the Mon Valley reported.

Public transportation remained curtailed in some areas and schools were to be closed Monday and Tuesday. Food supplies were “adequate” at district stores, milk and bread being the exceptions.

By Dec. 1, the Mon Valley was “almost dug out” of the record snowfall. Stores were operating on regular business hours, highways and streets were open, and public transportation was available. Schools were scheduled to open the following Monday.

The weather forecast called for some cloudiness and colder temperatures that night, followed by cloudy skies and rather cold conditions on Saturday, “probably followed by snow.”

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Two additional articles from the Duquesne Times – 11-30-1950 –

I came across some additional pictures of the BIG Thanksgiving Snow Storm of November, 1950. I have no idea of who the people are in the photos, but I am fairly sure of the vantage point from where they were taken. Again, I am fairly sure my dad was the photographer. I think they are rather cool looking. He’s like the hunky Ansel Adams!!

This first photograph was taken while he was standing in the middle of Kennedy Avenue just above 3rd Street looking toward the mills. The snow obviously put an immediate hault to any vehicular taffic!

This second photograph was again taken from Kennedy Ave looking toward the mills. This time, it appears to have been taken just above 1st Street. I recognized the homes on the right. I owuld love ot know who the poor soul is that is walking in the middle of the road, but I am afraid that her name is lost forever in history.

If anyone has any other vintage pictures of Duquesne or places there in that they would like to share, please email them to jim@shamrockrealtygroup.com. I am certain that we all would love to see them!

Posted in Autumntime, Food and Restaurants, Holidays - Non-Christmas and New Years, Hunky Celebrations, Wintertime | 16 Comments

Bubba’s Pocketbook – The McKeesport Bubba

Posted on November 17, 2013 by Jim

In May of this year, I posted a picture of an older woman walking along the sidewalk in McKeesport on a snowy day. The post, titled “A Bubba In McKeesport” brought back a lot of memories for all of you, as you each recalled your own special grandmothers.

The reason that I had posted the photograph, was to help identify the woman in the picture. I had no idea who the special lady was when I snapped the picture back in 1970. I was waiting at the bus stop in front of the Famous Department Store on 5th Avenue, across from the Kelly & Cohen Store. The photo was part of an assignment that I was given in my photography class, and was just a random shot of a little old lady.

Years later, I began to wonder who she might be. She appeared to be the perfect little Bubba with the most determined look on her face. I am thrilled to say, that after posting her picture, someone has stepped forward and identified the lady as their own Bubba!

About a month ago, I received the following emails:

“I saw the picture you posted on your blog of the McKeesport bubba. That lady is my mother. I am so surprised to see this. My mother’s name is Teresa Lischak James. She passed away in 1988.” – Delores Smay

“My aunt somehow found your blog and we believe that the picture of the Bubba is actually my great grandmother! My grandmother is sure it was her mother. Her name was Theresa Lischak James and I still remember her. She was full of spunk and life! “ – Kristen Lynch

“I think Grandma was born in 1902, but my mother would know for sure. So she would have been 68. People used to look older at that age than they do now. I just think it’s crazy that my sister came across that. I didn’t talk to her myself to ask her how that came about, but I plan to tomorrow. My grandma was always determined, on a mission, and she wouldn’t let a snowstorm slow her down!” – Kristen Lynch

I have since reached out to Mrs. James’ family to try to learn more about her. I will enjoy being able to share more about this grand little lady, and adopt her as our official Bubba of this blog! Hopefully, I will soon being receiving information about her. As soon as I hear from the family of Mrs. James, I will share their recollections with you.

When I looked at her picture once again, I was taken by how tightly she seemed to be clutching her purse. Of course, in grandma lingo, it would be called a “pocketbook,” and no matter what little grandma was carrying it, they all looked the same. A little black bag with short straps, rigid leather or cloth exterior, with a gold frame closure at the top. The interior probably had two compartments plus to smaller pockets on each side.

The simplicity of Bubba’s pocketbook contrasted dramatically with the huge handbags available today. My daughter Abby is a handbag junkie. She collects handbags like other people collect coins, stamps or baseball cards. The bigger the better, the more colorful the better, and the bling the better. In the case of her handbags, size DOES matter. Short of the kitchen sink, ladies today carry items in their handbags that our bubbas would never have dream of; makeup, cell phone, keys, wallet, coupons, iPads or notebooks, credit card cases, wallets, coin purses and assorted sundries that they “cannot survive without.”

I remember sitting beside grandmothers and elderly family members as a child and watching as they opened their pocketbooks for one reason or another. Each pocketbook always seemed to be armed with standard Bubba equipment including:

A Rosary, usually lovingly tucked inside a small gold or silver case. The beads were used during every religious service and were devotely clutched tightly as they listened in earnest to every “et cum spiritu tuo” that was uttered. I remember watching little old ladies’ lips moving while silently uttering the “Hail Mary” during mass.

A Chapel Veil was standard fare for every bubba. She would often take off her babushka before she entered the church and place her chapel veil on the crown of her head with bobby pins securing each side. Black was the color of choice, although white would occasionally be worn for special occasions.

A Babushka was always neatly folded in every pocketbook. Grandmas were always prepared for any inclement weather that could come their way. Babushkas were most often multi-colored and brightly pattered so they would “compliment” and outfit Bubba was wearing (although it was probably black.)

A Rain Bonnet was also considered standard equipment. The accordion-pleated plastic bonnet was always clear and would often be worn over a babushka or chapel veil if there was even a hint of rain in the forecast. I remember that they would shake the water out of the bonnets and then snap the pleats back into precise order by pulling on the ends of the cap. Of course, the bonnets also had their proper place, tucked inside a small rectangular container for safekeeping.

A Pair of Gloves were always at hand (if you pardon the pun) inside every well respected bubba’s pocketbook. White cotton for Spring and Summer, and black leather for Autumn and Winter. One must always be prepared to be a lady you know.

A Change Purse held all of the loose coins that Bubba would carry with her. Often it would also contain bus tokens for her trips to McKeesport or Pittsburgh. I recall standing behind many a grandma making a purchase at a store and watching her clutch her change purse in one hand and counting out the coins one by one for the clerk. Paper currency wasn’t usually carried in the change purse, but would be neatly folded into one of the zippered interior pockets of the pocketbook for extra security and safe keeping.

Holy Cards and Novena Cards usually occupied the second zippered pocket of their very special satchel. Often, the cards were special remembrances from the funeral of a deceased family member or friend. There may have been a very specific holy card that not only contained a portrait of a particular Saint, but also included a special intention prayer to that Saint. St. Jude, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Maria Goretti and St. Bernadette Soubirous of Lourdes, as well as Our Blessed Mother and The Infant Jesus of Prague were the most popular and beloved by Bubbas everywhere.

A Hallmark Datebook that Bubba had picked-up for free at a card store was always handy in their pocketbook. It was used most often to note family members birthdays and anniversaries as well as special occasions such as a grandchild’s upcoming First Holy Communion or wedding.

A Hand Sharpened Nub of a Pencil could always be found at the bottom of her pocketbook as well as a small notepad. The notepad was usually imprinted with a local bank’s logo, or perhaps Bubba splurged and bought a small spiral notepad if she was feeling frivolous one day!

A Skeleton House Key would be safely tucked into the pocketbook. Most homes used the same type of lock, and skeleton keys would basically open any lock in the city. Despite the fact that you could buy skeleton keys at Schink’s, Levine Bros. and any other hardware store in town, break-ins and robberies were a rarity!

A Pack of Tissues or Handkerchief rounded out the standard contents of Bubba’s pocketbook. It was always import to have them handy to stifle a sneeze, wipe a tear or just clutch in her hand or stuff up her sweater sleeve for safe keeping and quick use.

What a wonderful time of year to conjure up memories of your own Bubba. As we head into the holidays, remember the sounds and the smells emanating from your grandma’s kitchen as she busily prepared to cater a magnificent Thanksgiving dinner for her entire family. Think about how she would spend days and days preparing pumpkin pies, pecan pies and those very special poppyseed or nut rolls. I’m sure God reserved a very special place in heaven for all of the bubbas who were part of our lives.

Moja Drahá Bubba (My Darling Bubba)

My Darling Bubba, we will forever hold in our hearts

Your strength as a wonderful mother to our mothers and fathers,

Which we hope to gain while raising your great grandsons and great granddaughters.

As you look down from heaven above,

Know that you are always, remembered with love.

And when we are called and leave this place

We will once again be in your warm embrace.

Posted in Life in General, McKeesport, My Hunky Family | 15 Comments

Memories of Fall

Posted on October 30, 2013 by Jim

It’s time for me to empty my notebook of miscellaneous subjects that I have been holding on to, BUT could never find an appropriate post to mention them. In past posts I referred to this dilemma as needing to “empty the ketchup bottle” and getting out every last tidbit of memories that I might have thought of into a post. Now that it is officially Autumn, many memories about this time of year in Duquesne come rushing back to me.

I use The Duquesne Times as a constant source of research and recollections. I will often read through The Times for a particular time of year and instantly find inspiration for another post for The Duquesne Hunky. A subject that I haven’t really addressed, but one that was a heated topic among many Duquesne citizens, was city political candidates. I remember my dad and my uncles talking about mayoral and city council candidates whenever election time was near. Of course, the candidates were usually being discussed over shots and beers and a game of euchre, so the accuracy of the various comments and discussions became rather suspect, especially as the night rolled on.

1957 Candidates

1957 Candidates

I was clueless about who the people were that they were talking about, but I remembered many of the names that were always mentioned. In addition, there were signs all around the city that were posted to walls, telephone poles, on pins that people wore on their jackets or their lapels, and even the occasional billboard. As I review the copies of The Duquesne Times from the years of my youth, I still recall so many names of the men who ran for office. Unfortunately, I have yet to discover a female candidate for office in any of the issues yet.

I could never forget the name that my father ALWAYS talked about, Kopriver. Who could ever forget the campaign slogan “Pull the Top Lever for Kopriver!” His name resonated year after year, after year. Frank Kopriver Jr. was Duquesne’s mayor through most of my childhood. In November of 1945, then Councilman Kopriver was first elected mayor of Duquesne. He went on to win re-election in 1949, 1953 and 1957. Quite a run in office! Mayor Kopriver was also delegate to at the Republican National Convention from Pennsylvania in 1948 and member of Pennsylvania state senate 45th District, 1953-60.

1953 Candidates

1953 Candidates

The other name that I remember being discussed was Leonard Staisey. When I was a teen, I was very good friends with his daughter, Nancy, but knew little about his political career. My uncle, Sam Carr, first introduced me to Nancy, but didn’t go into detail about her dad. Since I have been writing this blog, I have learned so much about Senator Staisey. He was a very active member of Duquesne government as a Councilman, various Board memberships and an unsuccessful run for mayor in 1957 against Mayor Kopriver.

According to Wikipedia:

Leonard C. Staisey (November 10, 1920 – October 4, 1990) was a Democratic politician from Pennsylvania. Although Senator Staisey was born in Pittsburgh, he lived for most of his life in Duquesne. He was a member of the State Senate from 1961 to 1966, when he resigned to run for Lieutenant Governor. Considered a rising star in the Democratic party, he ran on a ticket with Milton Shapp, who would lose to Ray Shafer. From 1968 to 1976, he served as an Allegheny County Commissioner. In 1979, he was appointed as a federal judge, and he served in this position until he resigned due to illness in 1989. The name of Staisey, who was legally blind, adorns a Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh branch specializing in providing access for the physically handicapped.

I remember him as just a kind and friendly dad who always made me and all of Nancy’s friends feel at home. Just a regular guy.

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OK, here’s a thought from left field for you to think about. Who remembers being given some sweet, wonderful tasting, yellow syrupy liquid that Mom used to keep in the fridge? Homocebrin! Just before bed each evening, Mom would call my brother and I into the kitchen for our teaspoonful of the “it’ll make you grown up stronger and stronger” elixir. We never hesitated since it tasted so good. I remember the dark brown bottle and how the liquid just seemed to ooze out. I found an ad in the Duquesne times that advertised the vitamin and thought you’d enjoy seeing it and the “medicine showish” advertising! Kinda reminds me of Lucy Ricardo hawking Vitameatavegamin on I Love Lucy!

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When I visited Duquesne a few weeks ago, I traveled from Breezewood via Rt. 30. Most people roll their eyes thinking of me traversing the mountains on a one lane road instead of the Turnpike, but it was the route that my dad always took. I enjoy traveling along the mountainside scenery, especial in the fall, since I can enjoy the sights, sounds and smells that autumn brings. Specifically, the faint smell of someone burning a pile of leaves in their yard.

As a young boy, I remember that many of our neighbors would burning their leaves each fall. I have no idea whether ordinances were in place that restricted burning the leaves, but it they were in place, many people ignored them. As we would drive down Kennedy Ave. or just about any street in Duquesne, I would often see a small pile of leaves smoldering along the curb, being tended by a sentry armed with a rake.

The smell was somewhat pungent and would burn in our noses, but we never seemed to mind. Today, the smell just reminds me of a bygone era. To me, it’s the aroma of Autumn, just like the fragrance of pine is the aroma of Christmas.

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In closing, I need you to think about the Halloweens of your youth. Candy was safe to eat, costumes were as simple as an old white sheet with two eye holes cut into it, it was safe for a child to walk the streets at night trick or treating, dried fallen leaves crunched under your feet as you walked along the sidewalks, every home had a warm and bright welcoming front porch light greeting you and the amount and size of the candy bars you received was monumental. So grab a cup of hot apple cider, cozy down into a comfortable chair and enjoy a few Halloween recaps from The Duquesne Times.

Happy Halloween my friends!

Halloween 1945

Halloween – 1950

Posted in Autumntime, Duquesne's Special Citizens, Holidays - Non-Christmas and New Years, Miscellaneous | 16 Comments

Dem Bones, Dem Bones, Dem Soup Bones

Posted on October 24, 2013 by Jim

While most of the people in my area are mourning the passing of summer, I am reveling that it’s finally over. There is something about this time of year that delights me more than I can imagine. It bugs the heck out of my co-workers when I come in the office expressing how much I enjoy the cold weather and can’t wait until the temperatures and snow begin to fall. Quite honestly, they think I’m nuts!

Today was a perfect example of what I mean. The temperatures hovered in the high 40’s and low 50’s. It drizzled, showered or teemed rain throughout most of the day. Everyone was miserable, whiney and complaining about the weather….. except me. I was loving it.

When I was a boy, whenever it turned chilly, rainy and gloomy like today, my mom would be hard at work preparing a belly-warming pot of soup. Good ol’ hunky beef noodle soup usually. The process took the better part of the day. She would begin after my brother and I went off to Holy Name School in the morning, and carefully and lovingly pare and chop the carrots, celery and parsley into the perfect bite size pieces. A large chuck of beef would be prepared by washing it down in the kitchen sink and then patting it dry so she could lightly brown it in her cast iron skillet. I never understood this step, but it always tasted so good, who cared.

The Hrvatski Domaća Goveđa Juha (Croatian Homemade Beef Soup) that my mom made, along with every hunky I knew, had an ingredient that I never understood. Mom always said it was her “secret ingredient.” I’m referring to the “soup bone.” I recall grocery shopping with Mom at Kennedy Meat Market (a.k.a. Andy’s) and her asking for a soup bone at the meat counter. It seemed to be as key an ingredient as the beef itself.

Mom would place all of the chopped ingredients, the whole chunk of beef, a couple of peeled onions cut in half, the soup bone, a few spices and water into her soup pot and place it on the stove on a medium flame. She once told me that it was best to bring the water to a boil very slowly in order to get the best flavor. Eventually, the water would come to a boil and then she would lower the flame and let the soup cook for hours.

At this time of the year, the temperature was in 40’s outside, leaves were falling and there was a definite autumn-like smell in the air. By the time I got home from school, I knew that we were having beef soup for supper. My dad had installed an exhaust fan in the kitchen that was capable of sucking the air out of an entire factory. The aroma of anything that Mom was cooking would be drawn out of the kitchen and blasted out into the chilly fall air. As I walked up the driveway toward the kitchen door, I would immediately be hit with the aroma of the soup as it seem to be suspended in the air between our house and Anna Yasko’s house next door.

When I passed our kitchen window and then stepped up to the kitchen door, the panes of glass would be dripping with condensation as the warmth of the kitchen air battled with the nippy outside temperature. Mom would always be in the kitchen, either stirring her kettle of soup or sitting at the kitchen table waiting for us with coffee cup in hand.

We arrived home after school about 2 hours before my dad got home from work. Mom would always tell us to do our homework when we first got home…. No rest for the wicked. Fortunately, this never took too long for me since I wasn’t quite as focused as a student as my brother was. I always believed that he was the intelligent one, while I was the creative one. However, both Steve and I would eventually make our way outside before dinner and before dark.

The time between getting home from school and being called in for dinner seemed to go by so quickly. We barely had enough time to rake leaves together for a large enough pile before Mom was yelling for us to come inside and wash our hands. Somehow, every time we went outside to play in the fall, we’d always manage to have muddy hands and soggy, grubby stains on the knees of our pants.

By the time we had cleaned-up after playing outside, Dad was usually home and going through his own clean-up routine at the stationary tubs in the basement. Since he worked at his garage all day, he was usually pretty grimy, looking like he had been pulled from a Gulf Coast oil spill. I can still smell the fragrance of Lava soap as he prepared for dinner each evening.

While Dad was busy in the basement and Steve and I passed the time before dinner by watching TV in the living room, Mm would be busily boiling the noodles for dinner in her yellow kettle. She always used Pennsylvania Dutch brand noodles that were ultra-thin and were the perfect size in my opinion. She would have peeled, and quartered potatoes and have added them to the soup about 30 minutes before dinner so that when suppertime rolled around, she was 100% set.

Our hunky soup dinner would always start with at least one or two bowls of the fabulous beef soup. I even loved the carrots! Spoons would clanks against the side of the bowls as we ate and we were always allowed to lift our bowls and slurp to our heart’s content. Polite society be damned…… hunkys knew how to enjoy soup!!

After we had finished our bowl or bowls of soup, Mom would clear away our bowls leaving the dinner plates below. She would bring our large blue platter to the table that was loaded with the soup meat, potatoes and carrots that had been fished out of the soup kettle. I think that was my favorite part. I remember getting a hunk of beef and shredding the heck out of it. Since it had been cooking for hours, there really wasn’t a ton a flavor left in it, but smear some ketchup on it and a bit of salt and it was divine. Mom and Dad preferred to mix some horseradish into the shredded meat on their plates, but I didn’t have the stomach for that. The potatoes were placed on our plates, and we’d crush them with our forks, add a few pats of butter, salt and pepper and dig in. This was really “stick to your ribs” foods hunky style. Mom would have usually picked up a loaf of bread from Bon Bon Bakery in the Kroger Shopping Center across the street, have them slice it in their slicing machine. And allow us a few pieces with our meal.

These memories were provoked today by the weather report I saw online for Duquesne. There was an ever so slight chance of snow. I was so jealous when I saw it, and then began thinking of cold fall days in Duquesne. I miss the excitement of knowing there was a possibility of snow this early in the fall. I checked out one of the weather cameras from the Duquesne area and saw the familiar snow clouds looming over West Mifflin High School. I remember getting so excited when my dad would point to that type of cloud and tell me that whenever I saw them, it meant snow was on its way. Come on winter…bring it on!

Posted in Autumntime, Food and Restaurants | 26 Comments

The Last Time – I Promise

Posted on October 21, 2013 by Jim

FOLLOW-UP TO ORIGINAL POST…….

THANK YOU – THANK YOU – THANK YOU for all of your contributions to my walk. With only 1 1/2 days before the walk, the spirit of Duquesne’s love continues with donations of $1825.00 so far!

CLICK TO CONTRIBUTE – http://act.alz.org/site/TR/Walk/MD-GreaterMaryland?px=8873974&pg=personal&fr_id=3411

The last thing that I want to do, is anger you with a continual plea for something. I know you read this blog to join me in remembering the Duquesne of our youth. I assure you that my intention is to continue to share those memories with you. However, as I mentioned in my last blog, I am attempting to raise money for the Alzheimer’s Walk for the Cure to be held in Salisbury, MD in 5 days, October 26, 2013.

Many of you have made a donation already, and I cannot thank you enough!! Every dollar helps. However, with only a few short days remain to donate, I wanted to make my plea, ONE LAST TIME. In honor of my Aunt Peggy……………………….

Aunt Peggy has been my “other mother” for a long time now. Having lost my mother to heart disease when I was 12 years old, my aunt has been my rock and has always been there for me. Last week, I visited her in Pittsburgh, and was heartbroken to see how quickly her memory has faded. Although she is in an apartment currently, arrangements are being finalized to move her into an assisted living facility. She isn’t aware of the impending move, I know it won’t be well received by her, but it is the right thing to do in order to assure that she will be taken care of. As I sat with her and talked, I was reminded of the song, Hello In There:

Ya’ know that old trees just grow stronger,

And old rivers grow wilder ev’ry day.

Old people just grow lonesome

Waiting for someone to say, “Hello in there, hello.”

So if you’re walking down the street sometime

And spot some hollow ancient eyes,

Please don’t just pass ’em by and stare

As if you didn’t care, say, “Hello in there, hello.”

Alzheimer’s has often been referred to as “the long goodbye.” I completely understand why. Those of us who live on the other side of the fog that clouds her mind feel helpless and unable to impact the course of the disease.

Along with my entire family, I will be participating in a fund-raising effort in Salisbury, MD that will attempt to raise money for Alzheimer research and the ultimate cure. The 2013 Walk to End Alzheimer’s Eastern Shore Walk takes place on Saturday, October 26, 2013. I am part of the Shamrock Realty Team, but trying to raise donations and find supporters for my part of the team’s walk.

If you are able to make a donation to my walk, I would be SO grateful. My family and I are participating in the walk in honor of Aunt Peggy, Uncle Joe, Uncle Gary and Aunt Helen. Your reason to donate might not only be for my aunts and uncles, but for a parent, a grandparent, a family member or for that special older person who was part of your life. Please consider a donation, please help and I promise, this will be the last time I ask…

If you are able to help, please do the following:

1. Click on the following link: http://act.alz.org/site/TR?team_id=187383&fr_id=3411&pg=team

2. You will connect to my team’s page. On the bottom left of the page, you will see a box contain my name – JIM VOLK. Click on my name.

3. You will now be connected to my walk page. Click the green box on the right that reads $-DONATE TO MY WALK.

4. You will now be connected to the contribution page. You can choose your level of donation from the list provided or enter the amount wish. The rest of the form in self-explanatory.

5. To finalize your donation, just press COMPLETE DONATION at the end of the form.

Posted in Miscellaneous | 3 Comments

Thanks for the Memories

Posted on October 18, 2013 by Jim

I began my visit to Duquesne just a few days ago. So far, it has been enjoyable, but very bittersweet at times. I have spent most of my time with family members, old friends, and with my Aunt Peggy.

The weather has been unusually dreary, with a light misty rain falling nearly every day. Truthfully, it feels more like “A Rainy Day in London Town” than in Duquesne, with temperatures in the 50 during the day an in the low 40’s at night.

I’ve been able to visit a few places to photograph, but again, the weather has prevented me from capturing the shots I had hoped for. I’m on the road back home tomorrow, so I might have to wait until I return in December to reshoot some areas.

I wrote in my last blog that my Aunt Peggy, age 87, had been diagnosed with the onset of Alzheimer’s disease. Although this was devastating news to the family, it was not surprising. Several years ago, Aunt Peg, along with two of her siblings, Aunt Helen and Uncle Joe, was tested to access her vulnerability to the disease. At that time it was determined that she, along with at least two other siblings, had already acquired the disease. None of them at the time of the tests were displaying any overt symptoms, but all began taking a medication that would slow down the onset of the disease.

It was less than a year after those tests that my Aunt Helen and Uncle Joe began presenting symptoms, and by the end of the second year following the tests, both had been taken to health

facilities that provided 24 hour care and treatment for the disease. Sadly, my Uncle Joe died shortly after beginning his stay at the home, and Aunt Helen died the following year, both from Alzheimer’s.

Aunt Peggy, had not revealed any signs of Alzheimer’s disease in the five years since Aunt Helen’s death. Then, less than 4 months ago, the symptoms began to appear. In the last month, the intensity of the problems increased dramatically to the point that an assisted living facility will now be required.

I was able to spend time with Aunt Peggy during my visit, but the issues of memory loss and confusion were VERY obvious. She had difficulty in remembering which state she was currently in, whose home she was staying at, and who some family members were when their name was brought up in conversation. It was heart-wrenching to say the least.

The fact that we/I can do nothing to stop the dreadful disease that this dear woman will now suffer through is incomprehensible. We can only hope that a form of treatment will be formulated to either eradicate or prevent the progression of the disease.

Ironically, prior to my visit to Duquesne this week, I signed-up to take part in a fund raising walk that will be taking place Saturday, October 26^th in Salisbury, MD. The event is being held is the 2013 Walk to End Alzheimer’s Eastern Shore Walk. It is the first time I have participated in a walk, but one that is obviously near and dear to me due to my Aunt Peggy.

In what will soon be 3 years that I have been writing this post, I have never asked for any sort of contributions. However, since I have so many reasons to thank Aunt Peggy for her own memories as well as instilling the love of family and tradition in me, I am asking for you to consider making a pledge on Aunt Peggy’s behalf to the upcoming walk. My goal is to raise $100, however, I hope that the love and compassion that each of you have for the city you love will prompt you to help me well-exceed that goal.

If you are able to help, please do the following:

1. Click on the following link: http://act.alz.org/site/TR?team_id=187383&fr_id=3411&pg=team

2. You will connect to my team’s page. On the bottom left of the page, you will see a box contain my name – Jim Volk. Click on my name.

3. You will now be connected to my walk page. Click the green box on the right that reads $-DONATE TO MY WALK.

4. You will now be connected to the contribution page. You can choose your level of donation from the list provided or enter the amount wish. The rest of the form in self-explanatory.

5. To finalize your donation, just press COMPLETE DONATION at the end of the form.

I hope you will consider contributing to this walk. Since this blog is totally about the memories of our youth and the town we love, help to preserve those memories for everyone by helping to eliminate the disease that robs our seniors of those very recollections.

We love you Aunt Peggy!

My two favorite Aunt Peg stories –

https://duquesnehunky.com/2012/12/23/grandmas-christmas-garland/

https://duquesnehunky.com/2012/11/27/blueberries-on-the-hill-a-love-story/

Posted in Miscellaneous | 6 Comments

Heading Home

Posted on October 15, 2013 by Jim

Heading Home

I am very excited. I am leaving for a trip to Duquesne in just a few days. I was able to visit with some of my cousins recently when they were in town attending my daughter’s wedding on September 21st. However, the event is such a whirlwind, I could never think of it as spending quality time with any one of them. That short little visit from them only whetted my appetite to spend more time with them.

About 5 days ago, a nor’easter arrived here at the shore and decided to park itself and hang around for over five days now. We went from bright, very warm sunny days to windy, rainy and cooler days in less than 24 hours. Personally, I welcomed the change. The cool air, the leaves blowing around the yard with every wind gust, all reminded me of how much I enjoy fall and winter weather. It also motivated me even more to make a trip back to my home.

As excited as I am about heading back to Duquesne, part of my time there will be bittersweet, as I visit my Aunt Peggy. For those of you who have been reading my blog for some time, Aunt Peggy is the last surviving sibling on my father’s side of my heritage. She is the last of the eight children of George and Anna Volk from Adrian, PA still surviving. About a year ago, I shared Aunt Peg’s memoires about her childhood and her family in a post titled Blueberries on the Hill – A Love Story (click on the title to read the post.) Sadly, Aunt Peg has been diagnosed with the same dreadful, memory robbing disease that plagued three of her siblings. I am hoping against hope that she will still remember me so that we can share some very valuable time with one another. Please pray for her.

Aunt Peggy loved to reminisce about her family, about the places she lived and just about anything. Perhaps that is where I learned to appreciate and value the all of life’s lessons that were part of my youth. With that said, I assure you that as long as you are reading my ramblings and recollections, I will continue to share them. I hope my trip to Duquesne provides me with more stories to share with you that will warm your hearts and bring a smile to your face as you recall all of the things you loved about our town.

Here’s to you Aunt Peg!

Posted in My Hunky Family, Visits to Duquesne | 8 Comments

The Duquesne Hunky

Remembering The Sights, Sounds and Smells of the Christmas of My Youth

Peace, blessing and wishes for a fantastically Merry Christmas to all of my friends, neighbors and family who read this blog.

When Christmas Meant Traditions and Family

A Little Duquesne Hunky’s Christmas Toyland

Thanksgiving Snow and Family Gatherings Revisited

The Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

DUQUESNE DIGS OUT

They Still Talk About the Ferocious Snowstorm of 1950

Storytelling: 1950 Snowstorm Paralyzed the City But Not This Dad

1950 Storm: Snowed-In and Happy

Post Thanksgiving Snowfall Left Mid-Mon Valley Paralyzed In 1950

Bubba’s Pocketbook – The McKeesport Bubba

Memories of Fall

Dem Bones, Dem Bones, Dem Soup Bones

The Last Time – I Promise

FOLLOW-UP TO ORIGINAL POST…….

Thanks for the Memories

Heading Home

Heading Home

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CONTACT ME

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Peace, blessing and wishes for a fantastically Merry Christmas to all of my friends, neighbors and family who read this blog.

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The Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

DUQUESNE DIGS OUT

They Still Talk About the Ferocious Snowstorm of 1950

Storytelling: 1950 Snowstorm Paralyzed the City But Not This Dad

1950 Storm: Snowed-In and Happy

Post Thanksgiving Snowfall Left Mid-Mon Valley Paralyzed In 1950

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FOLLOW-UP TO ORIGINAL POST…….

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Heading Home

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Find Past Posts About Specific Subjects

CONTACT ME

Email Subscription

Search the Blog

Recent Comments

Recent Posts

Blogroll

Archives

Top Posts & Pages

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