1. HOME:
I was born on November 6, 1952 in Little Falls Hospital in Little Falls, N.Y. My parents were Lester and Leah Cook and they took me home to live on Rt. 80 in Starkville, NY with my sister Margaret, two years older than me, and my brother Stanley, four years older than me. I will confess right here, to anyone who doesn't already know, that my middle name is Lester, after my father.
We lived in a relatively small house on Rt. 80 in Starkville. We did not have an indoor bathroom until I was 7 years old. We had an outhouse that was attached to the rear of the house. You went out onto the back porch and through the woodshed to reach it. You didn't dawdle in cold weather! My brother and I shared a bedroom at the top of the stairs, my sister had the middle room, and my parents had the room at the far end of the house. There wasn't a hallway; you had to walk through each room. We had an oil stove in the living room for heat and my father had to fill it by carrying in cans of heating oil from drums which were kept in the woodshed. The cellar in the house had a dirt floor.
My earliest memories are of being sick. I had pneumonia when I was small and I have a memory of coming home from the Doctor's and I can see my brother lying on the living room floor playing with a wooden barn that we had. I think I was about 2, but might have been older. Both my parents worked and I remember staying at my Grandmother (Maude) and Grandfather (William) Cook's house near Hallsville while they worked. I remember my Grandfather letting me eat things like his Tums or cough drops, etc. Another time he took me on a milk delivery truck from his house to Starkville. He would put evaporated milk on mashed potatoes and I told him, "You don't put milk on your blate (plate)." He died when I was 7 and I remember my father coming home from work. I can see him walking up onto our front porch. It was the first time I'd seen him cry. I remember crying, not so much because I understood what had happened to my Grandfather, but because my father was so upset.
Like all kids, I had monsters living in my bedroom. Some lived under my bed and I had to keep my feet and legs on the bed all night or they would grab me. Others just sat there and waited for me to go to sleep so I had to try and stay awake and watch them because they wouldn't move as long as I was watching.
We had a little different variation on the Tooth Fairy. Instead of putting a lost tooth under our pillow, we would put it in a glass of water. Next morning, the tooth would be gone and a dime would be in its place.
One winter the ice backed up in the Otsquago Creek which ran through our back yard. Huge cakes of ice pushed out of the creek and were all around our house. The power was out. Dorothy Moore took my sister and me to stay at her house. It was a scary experience when it was happening, but we had fun playing on the ice cakes afterward.
The creek was a constant source of entertainment. We skated on it in the winter, swam and waded in it in the summer. We threw rocks in it, we built wooden boats and sailed them on it, and we built dams and bridges. Rt. 80 passed over the creek right next to our yard and we played under the bridge and on top of it. There was a small stream that ran into the creek in front of Marion Smith's house. The whole portion of the stream on her property was covered with a sidewalk making a long tunnel. That made another fun place to crawl through and explore. Just upstream from our house was an area we called "The Jungle". There were trees with vines and we could swing on them and play Tarzan. The creek wasn't nearly as much fun for my parents because it would often flood the cellar and constantly eroded the creek bank.
Christmas was very special when I was small. We were usually allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve. Christmas morning, we would be downstairs well before daylight. I can remember looking at the tree and the presents under it, and shaking with excitement. I don't think my parents had a lot of money, but we always made out pretty well at Christmas. I always liked the toys I got and many of them have survived to this day. Among some of them I remember are a Flintstones play set, an Aurora HO slot car set, and a building set.
The first car of my father's that I remember was a 1951 Chevy. I watched him drive it and I studied the dashboard and I was sure I could drive it. I told him not to sell that car because I wanted it. His next car was a 1955 Chevy, followed by a 1959 Chevy. My brother had an exhaust cut-out put on it. I never thought about it until recently, but Dad was particular about his cars and I'm surprised he didn't have a fit about that. His first new car was a white 1964 Chevy Impala. We took it on a picnic to Gilbert Lake one Sunday and it got totally covered in tar. We all scrubbed and scrubbed on that car, I don't think it was ever really as white after that. His next new car was a 1968 Chevy Impala that got smashed on the day of my brother's wedding. My mom and sister were in the car and both get pretty banged up. That car will forever be special to me because it's the one I learned to drive (legally) when I got my Learner's Permit.
My father worked nights and wasn't around much. He would be sleeping when we got up and went to school. We'd see him for a few minutes when we got home from school and before he left for work, then we'd be in bed long before he got home. It was odd because we rarely had a car at home in the evening and going to an event at school would require other travel arrangements. Sometimes my mother would take him to work so that we could have the car. It would be necessary to pick him up from work and I remember us going to the El Rancho Drive-In to occupy some time before he got out. I think one of the movies we saw there was "The Time Machine". Speaking of movies, I remember going to the theater in Fort Plain and seeing "Toby Tyler". I think I cried when the monkey got shot.
We would go on picnics at Wintergreen Park outside of Canajoharie. You drove in and the road turned downhill into the Canajoharie gorge. On the upper level were picnic tables, shuffleboard courts, a covered pavilion, and a small store. The store had the best ice cream treat. It was vanilla ice cream covered in chocolate with peanuts on top, all on a stick. Wow, were they good! You could drive down to the second level where there were more picnic tables. From there you could walk to the creek. In those days you could swim in the creek. You're not allowed anymore. It was all smooth slate and made a great place for swimming and wading. There were small falls that you could sit under or slide down on the mossy stone. If you walked far enough down the gorge you came to a really big falls. Many people have been killed there over the years and it's off limits now.
My father had worked at one time at the milk plant in Van Hornesville. It was interesting many years later when we stopped there one day when the building was still standing. He pointed out some of the places in the building and where different operations took place. After that job I believe he went to the Dan Franklin Creamery in Fort Plain and from there to the Beech-Nut plant in Canajoharie where he worked until he retired.
Apparently the Beech-Nut used to have a sort of "follies" show that they would put on. I can remember going to one at the Canajoharie High School. The one thing I can remember about it is someone doing Al Jolson in black-face.
I guess I was interested in guns at a young age. My father made a toy rifle out of wood. He cut out the stock and made a barrel out of a broomstick. I played with that rifle a lot. Eventually I wanted to upgrade and I saw my heart's desire at the Western Auto in Fort Plain. It was an air rifle, lever action, with a scope on it. When you fired it, it would puff smoke and make a ricochet sound. My parents worked out a plan where I would take my lunch to school and apply my lunch money toward the rifle. When we finally bought it, I was in seventh heaven until I fired it at my sister. Then my mother took it away from me for awhile.
We had our routines and Friday was grocery day. My parents would pick up my Grandmother and take her with them to the Victory Market in Canajoharie to buy groceries. I guess we only went if there wasn't school. They would go early enough to drop Grandma Cook off and get back home in time for my father to turn around and head back to Canajoharie for work. My Grandmother would buy Freihofer's date and nut cookies or some other kind and we'd have some when we got back to her house.
Saturdays were for shopping in Herkimer. I can remember one particular time we were sitting in the car outside Kinney's house. My mother was inside, probably delivering Avon. Dad gave us each 50 cents to spend. We would park in the parking lot behind the Library in Herkimer and walk through to Main Street. We would work our way up one side of the street and down the other. Originally the Montgomery Ward was a big old two story department store. We would go there and to the National Auto, Woolworth's, sometimes Mungers (at least to look in the windows), the Herkimer Bargain Center, and Grants. Later on the Montgomery Ward moved into a new store on Main Street and we would park there and make our trek. There was also the State St. Mill Bargain Center, and later Nichols came on Rt. 28. Eventually my parents starting getting groceries at the P&C market next to Nichols. This must have been after my grandmother was in the Homestead in Mohawk, or after she'd died. Sometimes my parents would buy a loaf of bread, some cold cuts, and a quart of milk and we'd make sandwiches in the car and that would be our lunch. I remember us doing that in the Montgomery Ward parking lot. It was cheaper than eating lunch in a restaurant and we thought it was fun. We also stopped often at Lovier's Dairy for ice cream cones.
I have to mention our dog Pat. He was a black spaniel mix. We got him from Harold "Windy" and Mary Johnson but I don't remember when. Seems like he was always there. He was a good dog; never hurt a soul that I know of. Sometimes other kids would visit and they'd pester him or sit on him and he always took it. If it got to be too much he'd just wander off someplace and hide. He came home one time with his mouth full of porcupine quills and I believe that Roberta Flint and Mom pulled them out. He got to be very old and one day he didn't come home. He had been hit by a car. My cousin, Kit, picked him up and he and I disposed of Pat's body.
We had a yellow cat named "Butterscotch" that I really liked. I'd lie on my back and he'd lie on my chest. He disappeared too and was probably hit by a car . In later years, after I was out of the house, my parents had another yellow cat that we named "Dirty Harry" because he was always going into the bathroom when women went in there.
Our family loved ice cream and we'd often get a half gallon from the little store in town. We would completely open the box and slice the half gallon into 5 equal slices and finish it off. The first time I took my wife-to-be home to meet the folks my only advice to her was "Eat all your ice cream and they'll like you."
During the summer of 1969 I let my hair grow and grew a beard. My brother was in the Army and everyone told me, "Just wait till Stan gets home, he'll straighten you out." When he came home the first thing he did was grow a beard. We were doing more things together at that time. He was hanging out with John Soposki and I'd hang out with them too. We rode snowmobiles and we'd go to the bowling alley and hang out at the bar. I was underage at the time and one night my brother came home and said, "You'd better stay out of the bowling alley for awhile, someone told Bill you're not 18 and he's really pissed." So I didn't go back to the bar until after my 18th birthday. Bill saw me and came over and dumped my beer. But I showed him my license and he grudgingly served me again.
My brother would play his record player in our room at night and I got used to falling asleep with music playing. Before he went into the Army he'd play stuff like The Beach Boys or Johnny Rivers. When he came home from the Army he was playing Jimi Hendrix and burning incense. To this day, when I really need to get some sleep, I put on headphones, climb into the recliner, and I'm gone.
We were also going to the drag races at Utica-Rome. Jimmy Smith was racing his 1970 Chevelle SS. The four of us; my brother, Jimmy Smith, John Soposki, and I went to the NHRA Summernationals in Englishtown, NJ in 1971. We slept on the ground in sleeping bags and cooked on a Coleman stove.
We took a whole caravan of cars up to South Glens Falls Dragway one Sunday. A guy named Bernie who my brother and Jimmy Smith worked with had a black '69 Hemi Roadrunner. Larry Smith had a white 383 Roadrunner. I think Jimmy ran his SS 454, Virgil Hazzard at that time had a 318 Duster, and I had my '65 Impala. I won my class that day but they ran out of trophies, so I got a whopping $5.00 and the win sticker.
In 1975, my brother and I went back to Englishtown with our wives but this time we camped in umbrella tents. They were aptly named because it rained most of the time we were there.
Back
to INDEX --- Go to SCHOOL