In Southwest Philly back in the late 50’s,early 60’s there was a man who would come up the back alley selling ‘javella water’. It was a bleach. Was this product unique to Philly or was it sold elsewhere? What the heck was it anyway???
How about Johnny the Ice Cream Man and Charlie the Knish Man from the Sheepshead Bay area? Man, were those Knishes good with the all the salt Charlie put into those waxy bags. And Johnny, if he caught you buying ice cream from Good Humor or Bungalow Bar, he’d give you a good scoulding about only buying from him with his unitelligable chatter. Anyone remember these guys?
MY DAD USED TO DO THE “CALLING OUT” FOR SUPPER EVERYNIGHT IN NICE WEATHER IN FAIRVIEW IN JERSEY IN THE 40S. WE LIVED IN AN APARTMENT ON THE CORNER OF A MAIN STREET AND A DEAD END STREET. ALL THE KIDS PLAYED ON THE DEAD END STREET.AT 5 O’CLOCK ON THE NOSE DAD WOULD BELLOW OUT THE WINDOW “RAY-MOND!!!” AND I WOULD HAVE TO BREAK OFF FROM WHAT EVER WE WERE PLAYING AND HIGH TAIL IT FOR HOME AND SUPPER. IT REALLY WASN’T EMBARRASING THOUGH BECAUSE ALL THE KIDS PARENTS DID THE SAME THING, YOU’D HERE “ELLEN!!!” OR “RONALD!!!” OR CHARLIE!!!” AND THAT WENT ON EVERY NIGHT. A GUY COULD SET HIS WATCH BY WHO EVER WAS GETTING CALLED FOR DINNER. THANKS, RAY RILEY
I never knew it was called a spauldeen until just now. We used to call it “the pink ball”, or “the ball”. In Fairview N.J.,in the 40s and 50s, we played against the firehouse door, which was raised on a track and when closed was sculptured with all kinds of angles to each section. Each kid had a section of the door and up to 6,7 kids could play at one time. The trick was to hit the ball at one of the moldings which would send it in a way it normally would not go. Or you could send it on down the line, or even put english on it and make it carren who knows where. Generations grew up playing hand ball against that fire house door in Fairview N.J. the door is still there, but i don’t see kids playing against it any more. Too much TV I guess. Thanks. Ray Riley
I went down one of those infamous ladders of an opened grate – growing up in Brooklyn, I was trying to get my Spaldeen. A huge “Ben” clone sewer rat was on his way up. Needless to say I gave the monster the right-of-way and haven’t touched a grating since.
Remember Chatty Cathy? I didn’t have one but one of my neighbors did. If I remember correctly, Chatty Cathy and Patty Play Pal existed at about the same time… early-mid 60’s?
I was suckered into buying the “turtle kit” too. I named my turtle “Lenny”, the name of a family friend. When the turtle died, I refused to believe it. My father poked him with a Q-Tip to prove to me that he was no longer moving and had passed on. To make his death a little less traumatic for me, my parents put him in an ashtray they had taken from Caesars Palace during their trip to Las Vegas. They threw poor Lenny down the incinerator in the Caesars Palace ashtray and said, “At least he died in class”. I still remind them of this and we all get a big kick out of it (especially since we all now live in Las Vegas).