My Recollections by Allen Kazmerski
Is it because we are all getting older that the word nostalgia is used more and more as we reflect on our younger days? Especially when we reminiscence about growing up in the city of our youth, and in this essay, that refers to my hometown of Little Falls, N.Y. Nostalgia is defined as “a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.” Those happy associations, as reflected in this article, reference the different modes of entertainment that our city provided in the 1955 to 1965 time period.
There was always something going on in Little Falls in those years of our adolescence and teens to keep us moving, keep us anticipating, keep us happy, and keep us entertained. The city of our youth offered idyllic summer band concerts in the parks, as well as adventurous and dramatic movies and stage events at the marvelous Rialto Theatre. An escape to the highlands of Moreland Park, a walk through the doors of a vibrant YMCA, or those so happy moments at the Monroe Street Field ice skating rink, and so much more. Many of those occasions became special memories and evoke special feelings. These old cherished memories are like delicate threads woven through the fabric of time, each one holding a piece of our past that we hold dear. A memory “present”, to occasionally be unwrapped, and enjoyed all over.
So, let’s begin unwrapping.
We all vividly recall those picturesque warm summer evenings we spent at those band concerts, with the entertainment performed in the vintage Paris green painted bandstands in our beautiful Eastern and Western Parks. The residents were always supportive of these concerts, especially on those sultry summer evenings when they came out by the hundreds to enjoy the fresher evening air and the twilight performances. The crowded park saw babies peeping out under blue and pink blankets being pushed in carriages, excited youths running free playing tag, and happy young children jumping rope and chanting:
“Janey and Johnny
Sitting in a tree,
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love,
Then comes marriage
Then comes Janey
With a baby carriage.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5… “.
Teens were holding hands and strolling the diagonal paths, and adults were spreading blankets, looking to unwind perhaps after a hard day at the mills. Families and friends finding relaxation and pleasant conversation under the sanctuary of the century old spreading tree canopy.
As the music swells and fills the air, the leaves rustle in gentle harmony, adding a soft percussive accompaniment to the melodies played to an attentive audience. A small town scene meant for a Norman Rockwell painting.
Not a parking space was to be had around the park, as all the diagonal spaces were filled with Chevy Bel-Airs, Buick Skylarks, Ford Fairlanes, Volkswagen Bugs, or perhaps here and there, a Ford Thunderbird or Pontiac GTO. The honking of car horns after hearing a favorite piece was the local tradition, showing your appreciation for a well-played tune. If you arrived late for a Western Park event, you found a parking space on Gansevoort, Jackson, or Monroe Streets. Most of us just walked to the park, an advantage of living in a small connected community. Remember those energetic, youthful entrepreneurs selling popcorn? Popcorn popped at home with extra salt and butter in brown paper bags stacked on a cardboard tray held in place by string, strung around the shoulders. “Hey, I got popcorn here, popcorn, only 10 cents, get it before it’s gone!” A young lad or lass learning some early marketing skills.
Usually, the Little Falls Military Band provided the musical entertainment.
Here is the perspective of a friend, a former Little Falls High School basketball standout and one of the more accomplished trumpet players the high school band has produced. He was tapped on the shoulder and asked to be a member of that military band. Friend Jim Harter, now living in Chandler, Arizona, writes:
“I was fortunate while still in High School in Little Falls to be asked to play in the Little Falls Military Band. I had been to their concerts in both Eastern and Western Park but had not thought I would ever be asked to play in the band.
I believe I was a sophomore in High School (1959) and was asked by my High School music teacher, Donald Musella if I would like to play in the band. He was directing the band at that time. I was not about to turn down that offer!
We practiced on Mondays and had concerts on Wednesdays.
I remember walking upstairs to a second-floor practice room over Eddie’s Tavern on the south side of Main Street. I had my trumpet in its case and wasn’t sure what to expect.
I got my trumpet out of its case and found a seat in the trumpet section of the band which was getting ready to practice. At that first practice, I believe Peter Adasek, DeForrest Tinkler, Raymond Lenarcic and Bernie Potter were playing trumpet.
We practiced for about 90 minutes and were told to meet at one of the parks at least 15 minutes before concert time.
That first concert began on time and Clarence Hotaling acted as the announcer for the band.
We always began with the Star-Spangled Banner. The concert would last about an hour.
A few years later Victor Leskovar joined and played trumpet as well as Sam Krchniak who played saxophone and Sue Miller on clarinet. Over the years I got to know the other members of the band, both High School students and adults who had played for years. I wish I could remember more of the members by name.
My second wife had attended a University for music and was a pianist and also a French horn
player. When she learned about the band, she was interested, and I inquired if there might be a need for a French horn player. There was, and she became a member also. This was in the early 80s, and John Ferraro was conducting the band.
The band continued to play for years and then ceased – I’m not sure why. We had moved to another state and I never learned what happened.
Those were great times playing great music with great people.”
Moreland Park provided a recreational area perched high above the city, providing wonderful views of another potential Rockwell painting. A park with a large roofed pavilion for parties, outdoor picnic tables, bbq pits, swing sets, hiking trails, monkey bars, a basketball court and informal grass ball fields, where those large red rubber kickballs were launched into space.
It also had a much smaller roofed stone pavilion with three massive stone fireplaces. I have really warm memories of those blazing fireplaces, but I couldn’t tell you any details of my time spent in that pavilion. Memories are peculiar that way.
The park provided for many family gatherings, as well as political and school-related functions. I went to Church Street Elementary School and recall that the highlight of the school year (for me!) was the school year-ending picnic outing at Moreland Park
The YMCA provided the young boys and eventually young girls of Little Falls with many opportunities to keep fit. You could work out lifting weights, learn to swim, play pool or ping pong, play volleyball, run miles on the indoor track, or hone your skills on the basketball court. It is where most friends and I learned to swim. At one time, you could bowl at the “Y,” and we took turns setting up pins on the manual pinsetter. Or relax, reading a book seated near the massive roaring fireplace. The “Y” also sponsored sock hop dances, usually with local rock bands playing. I was surprised (showing my age) when someone asked me what is a sock hop dance. So, if you’re unaware, a “sock hop” is a popular type of informal dance for teenagers in the 1950s and early 1960s. Teens would take off their shoes and dance in their socks on the wooden floors in a local gymnasium, thus protecting the varnished floors of gymnasiums. Thus, the name “sock hop”. The “Y” also showed films after school on Fridays via a home projector and small screen. It was inexpensive to join, you met new friends, and the “Y” kept you off the streets and perhaps out of the proverbial trouble that teens could often find themselves in. Of course, Little Falls being the lone exception to that kind of proverbial trouble.
We would bowl at the Gorge View Lanes or Filipski’s Golden Pin Lanes. The Gorge View had a snack bar with great milkshakes and a bowling shuffleboard game.
All of the lanes at Filipski’s had one pin painted gold in the pinsetter rack. It would randomly come up as the front pin, and if you bowled a strike with the golden pin out front, you won a free game. Boy, did the pressure build when you were staring down the golden pin and everyone stopped to watch you bowl!
We certainly don’t want to leave out the Valley View Drive-In Movie Theatre on Burt Road. Located just outside of town and just past the “wee hills.” Remember those? There were two others we frequented: the El Rancho Drive-In, just past St. Johnsville in Palatine Bridge (believe it or not, it’s still open!), and The Schuyler Drive-In, a few miles east of Utica on Rt 5. I recall my sister Kathy and I getting into our pajamas and throwing six pillows and a few blankets in the car, preparing for a double feature at the El Rancho. If we were lucky we might have stayed awake through the first movie. Especially after a hot dog, soda, and box of popcorn. Seems like it was always either a Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin movie or a Cowboy movie with a Rory Calhoun, Jimmy Stewart, Glenn Ford or John Wayne in the saddle playing the hero. Would be nice to have one of those clunky heavy metal speakers that mounted on the car window as a souvenir.
When older, date night at the drive-in movies became popular. Once in a while, we actually watched the movie. The drive-in theaters of the 1950s and 60s embodied a bygone era of community, innocence, and the timeless allure of the silver screen.
We spent many hours on the baseball diamonds and basketball courts scattered throughout the city, as well as the tennis courts on Lansing Street. Our local Little League thrived and became a feeder for the high school JV and Varsity teams. Families came out to support their Little Leaguers, and many local Little Leaguers grew up to become coaches. I coached my son’s DeCarlo Staffo team at the Little League level. Our Little League teams were backed by long-time sponsors. All uniforms had their traditional colors all trimmed in light gray, and everyone looked forward to being presented with their uniforms. It was a big step up from the informal sandlot games we played. Snyder’s wore the black uniforms, Elks wore yellow, Allegro maroon, Moose blue, DeCarlo Staffo Red, and the VFW were in green. From homers over the centerfield scoreboard to backhanding a grounder deep in the hole to sliding in the dust safe at home, America’s pastime was forever burnished into those little leaguers’ psyche. We would argue with bared teeth who was best, “Willie”, Mickey, or the Duke”. However, when the shouting died down and the last inning was played, we all just loved that game of baseball.
Friend Bob Casullo, who went on to a coaching career, wrote:
“In the late 50s and early 60s, the time was right for me to participate in the Little Falls Little League. I can remember going over to the south side, where the games were held, as a kid to watch my cousin Tom Yanno play for the ELKS team that was, I might add, a juggernaut that continued through to my time in the early 60s!
In 1960, I was selected to play for the DeCarlo Staffo Post team, coached by Jack Buccaferno and Louie Gamberdella. Unbeknownst to me at that time, they were the new juggernaut team. As a wide-eyed 9-year-old, and before any 2-inning-must-play rules were initiated, I was a dedicated spectator and cheer leader, from the dugout, for every game. Watching Bob Ciano, Mo Healey, Burt Gamberdella, and other “giants” in the Little Falls Little League at that time! We were undefeated and participated in post-season travels around the Mohawk Valley’s other little leagues. What a thrill, as after each win, we were treated to an ice cream cone!
Then as I was 12 years old and my third year playing for the DeCarlo Staffo, Nick Oriolo took over and we were again a top team to reckon with. I remember the clashes against the Moose with Tom Brin, Frog McLean, Allegro with Rock Scarano, Tom Ashe, and of course the always formidable Elks team.
At the conclusion of that season we had a terrific All Star Team assembled and again successfully traveled throughout the Mohawk Valley and Utica region.
As our age group arrived in high school several years later, I “stupidly”, in retrospect, gave up baseball for participation in football and basketball. I missed out on the very talented 1968 Little Falls High School baseball team that won the New York State Class B sectional baseball championship!
In conclusion, there are so many players and coaches that I failed to mention but each and everyone of them contributed to the yearly success of a premier Little League baseball program that always represented our little city in a proud and successful way!”
When the ballpark closed up and the weather turned cold and the snow came with it, it was time to dig out those ice skates and head for the Monroe Street Field skating rink. This is where the school football field and cinder track was located in this era. The field was snow plowed, the snow forming a protective ring around the rink, then flooded and allowed to freeze. Turn on the overhead lighting and magically the winter wonderland of a pristine ice skating rink appears. If you build it they will certainly come, and they did, as the community turned out in mass to celebrate the winter season by ice skating. The field was open every evening and all day Saturday and Sunday. Hundreds appeared on the weekends, all carrying their skates slung over their shoulders, taking in the crisp winter air while wrestling on their skates and lacing them up in anticipation of getting onto the ice. It seemed we were an oddity of sorts. An entire community where almost everyone we knew skated. I often relayed stories of our skating days to other friends who were not from our community, and very few of them had such fond recollections of community skating.
Skates were cheap and there was no admittance fee. There was not a better winter attraction to compete with ice skating. Some of our citizens were excellent figure skaters. Dave Reardon stood out to me as a skilled, graceful and well dressed daper skater. A skater that others stopped to watch and emulate. Others chose to work on their hockey skills. When we needed a break or a snack, we headed to the “shack”, as everyone called it. The shack, or cozy cabin, provided a haven of warmth, and an opportunity to invest in a Mars, Milky Way, or Snickers Bar, and a hot chocolate. The taste of smooth and creamy hot cocoa conjures visions of searing my tongue on too-hot cocoa at the ice skating rink. Is it just me, or did this happen to all 10-year-olds? While I’ve gained enough patience with age to wait until my cocoa cools, the sheer joy of sipping a warm cup of chocolatey goodness in the winter remains unchanged. We would clomp around on the wooden flooring, then once again head out to get a few more hours of ice time. More time to practice snap the whip, play ice hockey games, skate backward, the white skates, the black skates, the toe loops, the jumps, the flips, and the inevitable falling downs. We embraced it all.
In a corner of Monroe Street Field, high up on the hill, near Monroe Street was the toboggan run. Intimidatingly steep and lightning fast, with lumpy moguls, the older kids owned the treacherous steep hill and the younger kids kept out of the way and used the shorter safer runs. On a particularly slick snowy day the toboggan would get a head of steam and roar down the hill and make it all the way to the skating rink, bursting over the top of the snow bank and gliding slowly onto the ice. A run worthy of a winter memory. If one was walking up Monroe Street and glanced down at the skating rink, it was a scene that once again, Norman Rockwell would have embraced.
Wherever our entertainment in Little Falls was, we were doubly entertained by the Presbyterian Church bells playing Westminster Chimes. At each quarter hour we would get a quarter more of the Westminster melody, until, on the hour, the bells play the complete Westminster chimes, a majestic composition that triumphs in a booming low pitched note or notes marking the hour. The sound reverberated through the city and the surrounding hillsides with a sense of reverence. I miss those bells that were so much a tradition of our youth.
We played pool at Brides, drank cherry cokes at Kandyland, ate greasy burgers at Dandee Donuts and those legendary “Mexican Hots” at Doug’s Drive-In, bought records at Salvi’s, joined the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts and went to the sock hop dances at the DeCarlo Staffo Post and the Knights of Columbus buildings.
There is, however, one entertainment locale that tops them all. The stately Rialto Theatre. Being at the Rialto was the closest thing to paradise for a kid.
According to “Cinema Treasures” it “Originally opened in 1922 with 1200 seats as the Gateway Theatre. It was taken over by the Schine Circuit in 1925 and was renamed Rialto Theatre. It screened its first ‘talkie’ on February 28, 1929.” My mother remembers going to the movies and hearing the organ accompaniment to the silent movies.
According to “AI Overview: “The word “Rialto” can refer to a theater district in a city or town, particularly the area around Broadway in New York City. It can also refer to plazas in medieval Italy where commoners could go for entertainment, as theaters and opera houses were for the wealthy. The name comes from the Rialto in Venice, Italy, which was a central area of the city that was the financial and commercial heart for many centuries.”
The magnificent marquee lit up as if it were meant for Broadway. You will note in the above painting of the Rialto by Ed Bielejec, there are two heavy black iron brackets high up on the flanking vertical brick columns. Those are the only remaining items from the building that I am aware of. They presently form the framework for another of Ed Bielejec’s paintings, now commemorating the Rialto Theatre, located near the original site.
The blazing marquee promised cinematic adventures with Tarzan, dramatic intrigue with Robert Mitchum, Bette Davis, and Katherine Hepburn, romantic interludes with Audrey Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, and Charlton Heston, romantic comedies with Doris Day and Cary Grant, pure comedy with Jack Lemon and Peter Sellers, and those sitting tall in the saddle with Jimmy Stewart and John Wayne. The U.S. Military bands often graced its stage, along with stage shows such as magicians, singers, and even hypnotists. Every holiday brought entertainment to the stage, especially Halloween and Christmas. The Rialto was the center of our cultural and entertaining events.
The memories of the Rialto’s classic elegance included its grand wrought iron staircases, the plush patterned carpeting, the glass-enclosed box office window, the spacious lobby with terrazzo flooring, concession stand,
the balcony seating, the velvet-covered seats, the domed ceiling with its decorative plasterwork, those luxurious burgundy and gold velvet stage curtains, and the giant silver screen – all enshrined in our most delightful memory category.
Friend and Little Falls High School classmate Ghislaine (Kubica) Stewart remembers:
“One afternoon, in 1961, my friend Lee and I saw the film West Side Story in the Rialto Theater in Little Falls. We were freshmen in High School and both highly active in all the musical groups. We even sang in our own 6-member acapella female group called “The Chordettes.”
Needless to say we loved to sing and we loudly sang along with every single song in that movie.. and it didn’t bother anyone because we were the only customers there! At least we thought so because we were in another world. It was magical!”
The Rialto. A shining beacon of royalty in our old town. We sat in those velvet seats to laugh, cry, or be afraid of what was flickering on that screen. A special time and place to make memories with your friends and first dates. It provided our entertainment for years. Like it always would. It would, of course, always be there. Until it wasn’t.
The paradise that was The Rialto Theatre closed in 1972, and after being on the market for years with no takers, it fell into heartbreaking disrepair.
After a brief flurry of dissension against the wrecking ball that came too late and by too few, the Rialto Theatre was demolished in 1997.
Maybe Joni Mitchell’s song “Big Yellow Taxi” had it right:
“🎶Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone?
🎶They paved paradise and put up a parking lot”
Rest in Peace beneath that parking lot old friend Rialto.
If we, of this era, were to undergo an audit of the heart, it would reveal a true love for nostalgia; the love of those vintage memories just shared, of a “Rockwell-esque” community. Like delicate threads woven through the fabric of time, each memory holding a piece of our past that we hold dear. A memory “present”, to occasionally be unwrapped, and enjoyed and shared with old friends; those memories of our youth, that occurred long ago in a special place called Little Falls.
Allen Kazmerski
This is the 4th in a series of 1955-1965 articles on Little Falls.
The first three were “Our Main St.”, “Musings of My Youth”, and “OurMusic”.
The next and last in the series is “TV and the Movies”.
Great piece. Ghislaine Kubica was a classmate of mine either in primary or Jr. High. I attended Monroe Street School and I remember the name and wondering how to correctly pronounce it. Lots of memories of the ice rink, sledding, bowling and setting pins I didn’t play Little League but did play Pop Warner football. There was a weigh in and you had to be no more than 120# and remember that I was always close to that. Moreland Park, Buttermilk Falls and digging for Little Falls diamonds was a cherished activity. When we lived on W. Monroe Street my dad helped me establish a fishing worm business complete with a sign we hung out when we had worms. Building dams on Sherman Street from the sand used on the roads during winter to catch the melting snow in the Spring was a Saturday ritual. Every summer was spent at our camp on Keyser Lake with perhaps two trips to ‘Town” for a haircut. Otherwise barefoot with a bathing suit and T shirt and always begging an adult to watch us so we could go swimming. Thanks for the memories…other than cartoons and Westerns I remember my dad taking me to see To Hell and Back with Audie Murphy and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea at the Rialto.
Thank you Allen for a trip down memory lane.
David Fitzgibbons SMA 1962
This piece is very evocative bringing back memories I haven’t thought about in many years. Your recall is amazingly detailed! Such fun to read…..
Great memories !!! I worked as an usher at the Rialto from 1958 to 1959. Only a few of us; Anne Bielejec as the ticket seller, Bert McGowen as the manager and ticket taker, “Ma” behind the candy counter (she also worked at the high school cafeteria),. and Nick Kaufman as the owner. My job was to change the marquee three times a week. One time a gust of winter wind got a hold of me and blew my ladder over as I was about 10-12 feet in the air. Young bones and I only bounced with no damage except a few bruises. I couldn’t tell Mr. Kaufman because he would have scolded me for being careless (with his ladder). There was no elevator and I had to carry very heavy rolls of film up two flights of stairs to the projectionist booth. And a few days later back down the stairs. I was forever changing light bulbs; on the marquee, in the rest rooms, on the display cases and worst of all, above the ceiling in the main theater. I had to crawl into the attic on my hands and knees through years of accumulated dust, dirt, and mold and I hate to think what else, to get to the boxes that held the house lights. There was no walk-way, only rafters and a slip and I might have crashed through the ceiling to the seats 20-30 feet below. Wintertime temperatures were in the 30s in the attic and summer in the hundreds plus, with wet tar from the roof streaming through cracks and getting in my hair and on my clothes. And I was getting paid something like 65 cents an hour. But the best part was when I wasn’t working, I could get into the movies for free, and some times even bring a date. Those were the days my friend. We thought they would never end. Tom Prestopnik (Florida) LFHS Class of ’60
Great article Allen…lots of wonderful memories…. we were lucky !
Good stuff!
Some of my best memories Allen! Thanks for taking me back!
I went to Monroe Street school until the fifth grade when in 1953 when my family purchased a farm in Newport, N. Y.. Your memories reminded me of what it was like living in Little Falls and enjoying so many wonders that it offered. Western Park (and probably Eastern Park as well) has a water fountain where on a hot day you could get a cool drink of water. It was like a bubbler where the water came out of a spigot in the center part of a bowl and you could slurp it.
And I fondly remember the Polish Hall that held New Years Eve dances and had a Polish band playing till the wee hours. Marlene Klimeck was my best friend (she lived in the city and we belonged to the same church) and we would dance the polkas together… such fun.
I still occasionally dream about the Cigar Store on the corner of Ann and Main Street as it used to look when I was a kid. One of my earliest recollections was of being in my father’s arms and watching a parade on Main Street. I must have been about 3 years old at the time and there were hundreds of people watching the parade. That must have been 1946 and perhaps it was a Victory parade marking the end of the war.
Kandyland was special because I remember on one wall they had displayed boxed dolls of many countries dressed in appropriate costumes and you could see the outfits because the boxes were flatish and the skirts were fanned out had a cellophane cover. I was fascinated !!
And I remember going upstairs at J. C. Penny with my mother while she perused all the fabrics on display, because she sewed many of my clothes. Woolworth’s was wonderful because it had a small section of little plastic dolls for a dime and I loved to sew up clothes for them from scraps of fabric from the clothes my mother made. I had a little tin box with an attached lid that I kept filled with doll clothes and a doll.
I was a demon on those attachable roller skates That you applied to your shoes and loved to skate on the sidewalks in my neighborhood. Problem was that sometimes the key would go missed… AARGH!
Living on Diamond Street held it’s own enchantment. There was a wooded area between Diamond and Monroe Streets and my brother Eddie and I would go there and swing off the vines on the trees. Eddie would also dig for Little Falls “diamonds” and sell them to the jewlers in town. And it was a great shortcut thru the woods and a backyard to arrive on Monroe Street.
Having a bakery in town (a distant relative) where we bought fresh still warm rye bread and rush it home to devour it with butter. Heaven !
So glad your article Allen has brought to mind how magical those days living in Little Falls were to me. thank you everso for your gift of happy remembrance.