GOOD HEDGES MAKE GOOD NEIGHBORS

GOOD HEDGES MAKE GOOD NEIGHBORS

By TONI CRESCENZO GELFER '68

My father, Tony, pictured here on the right, loved his house and especially the freedom of having a large garage for his tools, trucks and even a cement mixer. What he missed about Ozone Park, Queens was the camaraderie that was always felt on the stoops, corner stores and local social clubs for Italians.

In Levittown, he substituted Charlie's Gulf station, the luncheonette by Marcals (both on Newbridge Road) and the front yard, talking over the hedges with Kingfisher Road neighbors such as Gerry Silvestri who is shown here with my dad. Silvestri is wearing a type of undershirt often seen in Levittown. Most of the men who wore them grew up in Brooklyn, Queens and The Bronx.

I have continued in this time honored tradition, never seeking the shelter and privacy of my back yard. If you drove by my house in San Antonio today, chances are you'd see one of my family sitting out, waving to neighbors, talking to the mailman. Some things never change.

Part 1 - Levittown's Mays shopping center was a focal point for our community way back when

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By FRANK BARNING

Early Levittown did not have a real downtown. It was pure suburban sprawl and as great as Levitt and Sons' planning had been, one item that was omitted was a shopping area such as were found at the time in previously developed communities such as Hempstead and even nearby Hicksville.

We pioneers made the shopping center anchored by the Mays department store our downtown. Some of us lived nearby and had an easy walk, while others were not so fortunate. For many, distance was compensated for by heading to "the stores" after school at Division Avenue junior and senior high schools. The shopping center was 10 minutes at most from school. The kids who attended Levittown Memorial High School were less fortunate.

The variety of stores was impressive, at least to us, and I rarely heard complaints. The merchants in the 1950s, for example, were fairly tolerant when it come to allowing us to hang around. There wasn't much of a police or security presence. Ours was not a particularly threatening crowd.

Among the things remembered by some of my Facebook friends about our shopping center was buying scout uniforms at Lobel's and later JC Penney, the lunch counter at Woolworth's, shoes at Thom McAn, Whalen's drug store, first jobs, buying 45 records and a bakery that in some memories has never been topped . . . Peter Pan.

I have asked frequent blog contributor Toni Crescenzo Gelfer, class of 1968, to provide her memories.

By TONI CRESCENZO GELFER

The shopping center on Hempstead Turnpike that included Mays has left many indelible marks in my memory. These thoughts can be pulled from every stage of my life, from being a very young child until when I first became a mother. My earliest recollections are the sweetest.

My mother never learned to drive and was an avid walker till her mid 80's. Although she and I did take the bus to the stores in Hicksville and Hempstead, the strolls through Levittown to arrive at that strip of stores on Hempstead Turnpike was an adventure for a four year old.

With my older siblings in school, I had my mom all to myself. At the stores we'd peruse an amazing array of items, resting here and there, if I tired. There was always a stop to eat and regroup with bags in hand. Going home I'd usually end up with a small toy from Woolworth's and a large lollipop. Sometimes it would start to rain or mom would get an extraordinary sale on bananas and we'd have to take a taxi cab.

These were the best of times, the cavernous back seat, parcels crinkling and little me perched on a small round disc like seat which magically appeared out of the floor. And always there was mom talking and smiling all the way home. This was heaven.

This photo of a little green Cape Cod house triggers comforting memories of a bygone era and a Levittown childhood

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By TONI CRESCENZO GELFER

This little Cape Cod harkens back to a bygone era that was early Levittown. It was a time when a kid could jump on his bike and venture out fearlessly with nothing more on his youthful mind than perusing the streets for a friend or a game to join in.

Or he might end up at "the Green" for a candy bar or soda, knowing that everywhere he went he would be flanked by the comforting sight of those little houses. In each there was a family much like his.

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This photo was taken last week by Dan Mercuri, class of 1968. The house can be found somewhere between Jerusalem Road and Schoolhouse Road.

The Crescenzo kitchen on Kingfisher Road was flooded with good aromas and a mother's love

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By TONI CRESCENZO GELFER

Class of 1968

I have a large collection of early Levittown photos, mostly of our house at 203 Kingfisher Road plus my friends and extensive Italian-American family. Frank Barning, our blogger, asked me to provide kitchen pictures because they can trigger a trunk-load of memories.

On this page you can see some of my kitchen shots. The 1965 Thanksgiving black and white one is important to me because it shows how close I was to my Dad, always leaning on him without being mushy. Also, the fact that we brought a picnic table in the kitchen, added it to our large table and ate in front of the sink is so Crescenzo. There was no fancy china and no cloth napkins.

The color shot was taken on Weaver Lane in 1972 at my in-laws' house. I love it because of so many observations: the painted two-tone green cabinets, the "earl" burner and painted white fireplace which were so early Levittown.

Another favorite of mine is the shot of my mother in an apron at the kitchen table. It was a simple time, a modest home and a mother who felt the reason for her being was her children's welfare and comfort. She never wore makeup or perfume, but hugging her carried the faint aroma of meatballs and gravy.

My Mom passed last December. I assembled her treasured recipes in a bound cookbook which I gave to my family. My oldest son Zachary called me after a short time and said "The food turned out great and the whole house smelled like Nana". Thanks Mom, what a legacy of love you left.

THEN AND NOW: The Crescenzo residence at 203 Kingfisher Road in Levittown

Casa Crescenzo, 203 Kingfisher Road in 1953, nearly 60 years ago. The family moved in the year before. At its heart was mom and the kitchen.

203 Kingfisher Road in March 2012. Photo by Marilyn Monsrud Frese.

By TONI CRESCENZO GELFER

Class of 1968

My house was a modest, slightly renovated vessel for a teeming world that was the Crescenzo family...filled to the brim with family, friends, neighbors, classmates, service people..to name a few.

At its heart was Mom and the kitchen..and the question: What do you want to eat?..Even if something was already simmering, which it always was. It didn't matter..any time of day..I'd order bacon and eggs (both crispy)..and there they were on a Melmac plate. This continued until near her death.

Being a Tomboy, Dad was instrumental in everything for me from fixing flats on bike tires, to finding a leak in a tub of water; to preparing the patch and on and on until I rode off on my red Schwinn. There were numerous surgeries consisting of removing splinters which I purposely inflicted by walking on his scaffold planks The burning of the needle, the tweezers, never any worries of a Band Aid or antibiotic after. The setting up of the increasingly larger pools every few years. The buying and building a stand (never saved it) for a "real" Christmas tree, in our oversized garage and on and on.

Aside from Mom, Dad and my siblings, we had what my mother called "A Parade" of visitors that came through our door..eating..visiting...The Mailman would be given dry socks in my kitchen during a storm, the Milkman, Artie, would have coffee and do his books, weekly....A man named Patsy (from Ozone Park) would come once a week,with a mysterious book and take orders for new "dungarees' or sheets, really anything.. and he'd reappear, in a week, with the bounty.

There were many more of these people....different ones, different days...Then, there were everyone's friends...It was a zoo. Kids playing in dad's sand pile out back. Teen girls playing hooky inside. ( Mom.."you don't feel good..Stay home"). Different ages. Boys/Girls. Food still cooking...Neighbor women coming in. Girls scampering to hide.

There are too many stories to begin to explain what went on in my house. Our house housed a family that never went on a vacation together, never ate in a restaurant, together...never went to a beach, park or museum, together...never had health insurance, never had any savings...and, never knew it... till many years later. I got married in the back yard of my house. My house was a HOME.

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Color photos by Marilyn Monsrud Frese

AZALEA ROAD POOL CIRCA 1954 . . . AN INNOCENT TIME TO GROW UP

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This photo is pure early Levittown and one of my favorites among the hundreds of vintage images that have been sent to me for this blog. There is a certain nostalgic magic, transporting me back in time. It was provided by Toni Crescenzo Gelfer, class of 1968.

Here are her comments about this picture:

By TONI CRESCENZO GELFER

The year is probably 1954. The lady on the bench of the Azalea Road pool is my "Aunt" Lena, in reality my Godmother. Her son Johnny is by my side.

What strikes me is her clothes. She is under 40-years old, but coming from the Italian enclave of Ozone Park (made famous, later, by John Gotti), she could be decades older. In the time of June Cleaver and Donna Stone on TV, she is a stark contrast. The occasional visits by our Queens relatives were in their own words "visits to the country."

My own parents, being very old world, never took the family on a vacation because they thought every day was one. All I know is that I appear seemingly ecstatic and in my world everything you see here was quite normal.

One final note. At the sign-in table you can see the suburban moms and kids right out of Life magazine. Oh, to have a little of that innocence today, for my grandkids.

Early Levittown girl with windblown hair; classic photo captures the essence of the streets we roamed

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By FRANK BARNING

There are several hundred photos of early Levittown in my collection. The one posted here today is one of my absolute favorites.

The girl perched on the hood of the 1959 Plymouth is Toni Crescenzo Gelfer, Division Avenue High School class of 1968. She figures the picture was taken in 1967 on Kingfisher Road, across the street from her house.

You don't need much more information because the picture speaks for itself. It should hang in a prominent place in the Levittown Historical Society's museum. To me, early Levittown is not just about houses and schools being constructed, it's about the people who made it a community. And kids like Toni who are now in their 60s cling fondly to memories of simpler times and experiences that shaped their lives.

The picture could be called, "Early Levittown Girl with Windblown Hair." Look at the snow on the ground, the barren late winter or early spring trees, cars that are now considered vintage and well cared for and loved homes. The houses are basic Levitt and Sons ranch models, not the giant construction jobs that dot 2011 Levittown.

This is typical of the streets upon which we early Levittowners roamed, perhaps first on bicycles and later our first automobiles. Can't you feel the crisp chill in the air? For many of us, the first cars we drove were in about the same condition as this '59 Plymouth. All that mattered was that we had "wheels".

TONY CRESCENZO GELFER'S MEMORIES

My now husband, Howard Gelfer, bought that '59 Plymouth Belvedere from DAHS graduate Herbie Blades for what he remembers was the sum of $15. Howard and some friends pushed it home because, I think, it had push buttons and was stuck in reverse. It had been rumored to have rolled over at one time.

Eventually, the car had a complete makeover, new door from a junkyard, Earl Scheib paint job and his dad did the entire inside in black tuck and roll upholstery with the finishing touch of a new reverberator for the AM radio.

It seems Herbie had lent that car to other underclassmen because I was in it six months before riding around with a bunch of kids. We stopped at Lum's and I went in with someone. When I finally started dating Howard, he told me the first time he ever saw me was walking into Lum's with that other person and something clicked and he knew we'd be together. Very corny, but true and it came to pass he got the car and the girl.
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Photo courtesy of Toni Crescenzo Gelfer. She has an extensive collection of Levittown and 1950s memorabilia in her home in San Antonio, Texas. You can find Toni on Facebook.