A memory: My dad and me, 1952

Me and my dad, Paul (Rusty) Bohinsky
backyard of 1522 Beaver Rd.
August 1952
courtesy of Agatha Bohinsky

I was two years old when this photo of me and my dad, Paul (Rusty) Bohinsky was taken in the backyard of the house I grew up in, 1522 Beaver Rd.

My dad would have been 31 then. He had red hair and was heavily freckled from face to foot. He was a WWII vet and a fitter at American Bridge Co. He enjoyed hunting, fishing, and bowling and loved his children fiercely. He died in 2006.

A memory: My mom and me, 1952

My mom, Agatha Bohinsky, and me
backyard of 1522 Beaver Rd.
August 1952
courtesy of Agatha Bohinsky

I don't know why my mom, Agatha Bohinsky, and I were all dressed up and wearing hats that day in August 1952. Maybe church?

The photo was taken in the backyard of the house I grew up in, 1522 Beaver Rd.

My mom, 91, still lives in that house.

A. M. Byers Co. 1930 - 1969

A. M. Byers Co. plant under construction
Duss Ave.
Daily Citizen supplement
August 10, 1929

The A. M. Byers Co. plant was the last of the large industrial plants to be built in Ambridge.* It opened in October 1930, producing wrought iron and wrought iron pipes, using a new mechanized production method, the Ashton process, which allowed the plant to produce higher-quality wrought iron--and produce it faster and at a lower cost.

When Ambridge's Byers plant was working at capacity, it reportedly produced more wrought iron than all the other wrought iron plants in the U.S. did combined.

A.M Byers Ambridge plant in lower half  of photo
(J & L across the Ohio River)
courtesy Beaver County Industrial Museum
used with permission

The plant closed with only two weeks notice in December 1969, the victim of declining demand for wrought iron products and increasing costs.

A. M. Byers Co. Ambridge plant
Duss Ave.
Beaver County Times
December 19, 1969

Beaver County Times caption:

DOORS TO BE CLOSED -- The Harmony Township Plant of the A. M. Byers Co., experiencing economic difficulties as a result of rising costs and product demand decline, will be shut down Dec. 31, bringing to a close 40 years of operations. At stake are 485 jobs including 127 office and supervisory personnel. Employment at the plant has been down for several months.

The former Byers production buildings are used by several businesses: Brunner Recyling, O'Neal Manufacturing, and Leeco Steel. The former Byers office is a U.S. Air Force Recruiting Center.

It was emotionally comforting for me to see that the Byers smokestacks still stand tall.

A. M. Byers smokestacks
Duss Ave.
April 29, 2015
credit: Nancy Knisley

My memories of the Byers plant

Two things stand out in my memories of the Byers plant, besides the fact that my Uncle Fritz Yerzek worked there.

The one memory I'm sure I share with anyone who lived in the area while Byers was operating, is the inferno produced by the Bessemer converter, located only about 150 feet from the west side of Duss Ave. The working converter would light up the night sky in shades of gold and orange. Multicolored smoke would rise high into the air. And sparks would drift into Duss Ave. onto passing cars if the wind was right.

Even as a kid I was astonished that Byers was allowed to put the converter so close to what was a major road at the time.

Byers' Bessemer Converter
courtesy Laughlin Memorial Library archives

If our family car drove past Byers while the converter was working, my mom would say, "Don't look! Don't look! You'll hurt your eyes. You might go blind." But of course, I always snuck a look. The scene was awe inspiring in a somewhat terrifying way.

My other memory is the large, round, wrought iron plate that hung on a frame on the Duss Ave. side of the Byers office. I don't know what the plate really was called, but we always referred to it as the "gong."

The Bessemer converter ended up on display at Station Square in Pittsburgh. Does anyone know what happened to the "gong"?
_____

* Technically, the Byers plant was in Harmony Township, not the Borough of Ambridge, but, like other Harmony Township businesses, it used an Ambridge address and advertised itself as being in Ambridge.

The Ambridge Theatre

Many people in the Ambridge area have fond memories of the small, mom-and-pop Ambridge Family Theatre at 645 Merchant Street that opened in 1965 and closed in 2014. This is not about that theater.

This is about the original Ambridge Theatre, the one that was Ambridge's biggest, grandest theater.

This theater:

Ambridge Theatre
714 Merchant St.
March 1965
Laughlin Memorial Library archives

The Ambridge Theatre opened on December 24, 1928, owned and operated by Marcus (Ben) Nadler, who also owned the Prince Theatre and had previously owned Ambridge's Grand Theatre and Regent Theatre.

The Ambridge Theatre Deluxe
Grand Opening Flier
December 1928
Louis Vukovcan collection
courtesy of Jackie Vukovcan

The announcement included this statement:

TO OUR PATRONS

The policy of this theatre will be be show only the most carefully selected pictures--pictures that could offend no one--yet will entertain the most particular people.

De Luxe stage presentation--the best obtainable--will be shown together with news reels, comedies, and other screen attractions of equal high entertainment value.

Patronize the Ambridge Theatre--it is a modern, up-to-date theatre--beautiful, sanitary and comfortable--with entertainment no surpasses anywhere.

--The Management

The opening movie was Naughty Baby, followed later in the week by Three Week Ends.

The Ambridge Theatre Deluxe

Grand Opening Flier

December 1928

Louis Vukovcan collection

courtesy of Jackie Vukovcan

At the time it was built, the Ambridge Theatre was reported to be the largest theater in Beaver County, seating 1600. The theater's entrance at 714 Merchant St. didn't give a hint of just how big the theater was, as the storefronts between 7th St. and 714 hid the L-shaped building's size.

While the Ambridge wasn't as big or ornate as some of the Pittsburgh theaters in that era, the local newspapers were excited, anticipating the opening.

The Ambridge News-Herald wrote about last minute preparations for the opening:

While there is still considerable touching up to do, yet the main features are ready. Half a dozen janitors sweeping and dusting. The organ men are tuning up the great instrument and it will be in its best tone for the opening.

The big electric dome has been drawn to place and the lesser illuminating units are being hung. Carpenters are driving the last nails, the painters are brushing on the last swish of golden paint. The large mirrors in the lobby are being set and polished, so that when the doors swing open at 6:30 little if anything will be found unfinished.

At present writing, noon, Rosiman's Alabamians have arrived and are ready for the stage when the curtain goes up. Film for Alice White's latest picture, "Naughty Baby," is on hand and ready for the projecting machine. And most important of all the ticket office is set and the ticket chopper installed in the lobby.

Ambridge's Daily Citizen gushed over the $500,000 theater--almost $7,000,000 in today's money-- calling its opening "The biggest event in local theatrical history!":

The New Ambridge Theater, the beautiful, luxurious new house of the Ambridge Amusement Company, opens with all its radience (sic) at 6:30 this evening. From the spectacular electrical display on the exterior to its red plush seats, this house offers the superlative in theater construction and appointments. We won't say too much about it today, but as the result of a preview yesterday we can safely predict that everybody tonight is going to be awed--even thrilled--with the luxuriousness and ornateness of this beautiful structure. Really, the interior of the theater is "a thing of beauty and a joy forever," designed under the colorful Spanish and Italian influence. Its wide, richly carpeted aisles, magnificent draperies, and colorful lighting effects, make it one of the finest theaters in Western Pennsylvania.

The Daily Citizen noted that the movie Naughty Baby being shown on opening night was its world premier, "a privilege that is rarely accorded towns the size of Ambridge."

[Update August 22, 2017: Here's what the Ambridge Theatre's entrance looked like the year after it opened. Until I saw this photo, I never knew the marquee shown in the other photos in this blog post wasn't the original. I don't know when the marquee was changed. Note the icicles hanging from the bottom of the marquee, advertising that the theater had air conditioning.

Ambridge Theatre
Daily Citizen
August 10, 1929

End of update]

As far as I can tell, for most of its lifetime, the theater typically changed its movies twice a week. One--or two, because it frequently ran double features, two movies for the price of one--played Monday through Thursday, and another one or two movies played over the weekend. And there was always a cartoon before the first movie. On Saturday's, there would often be a special matinee for kids.

The Ambridge Theatre showed the first "all-talking movie," in Ambridge, The Wolf of Wall Street, on March 21, 1929. The theater also showed the first 3D movie in Ambridge, and installed the first panoramic screen in "the valley."

In 1930, Nadler sold the Ambridge and Prince to the Warner Bros. Theater chain for $700,000, which would be equivalent to over $9,825,000 today.

I don't know what the occasion was in the 1954 photo below showing a lot of excited boys in baseball uniforms lined up in front of the theater to see Johnny Guitar and Jungle Maneaters. The man wearing sunglasses, standing near the curb with folded arms looks to me like Walt Kasper, Ambridge funeral home owner who was active in community organizations. Those of you who remember Kasper, what do you think? Does anyone recognize anyone else in the photo? If so, please leave a comment. (As usual, the photo can be enlarged to see the details better by clicking on it.)

[Update July 21, 2017: Long time Ambridge resident Butch O'Keefe agrees that that's Walt Kasper in the photo. He adds that the man further to the right wearing a baseball cap, standing with the crowd of boys, may be a man with the last name of Bucka who was very active with Little League.]

[Update July 23, 2017: Jill Scheer says that the man behind Walt Kasper's right shoulder in the background of the crowd is her grandfather, Nicholas Scheer. She says he was not connected with Little League, so must have just been in the crowd at the right time to be captured in the photo.]

Line in front of the Ambridge Theatre
714 Merchant St.
1954
credit: Glazer Collection, Athenaeum of Philadelphia
used with permission

I don't know how long that commitment the Ambridge management made to only show movies that "could offend no one" lasted, but in February 1957, the Beaver County Deanery of the Holy Name Society protested the theater's showing the controversial movie Baby Doll, described by IMDb as "A steamy tale of two southern rivals and a sensuous nineteen-year-old virgin." A 19 year-old who sleeps in a crib and sucks her thumb.

People whose memories of the Ambridge are better than mine recall the stunning Art Deco stairs leading to the second floor, and the beautiful Art Deco bathrooms there, as well as an entry into the balcony.

Here's just a smattering of Ambridge Theatre ads over the years.

One of the more cultural offerings:

A Midsummer Night's Dream
Ambridge Theatre ad
Daily Times
February 29, 1936

Before there were hours of Saturday morning cartoons on TV, kids went to the movies to see them:

17 Cartoons
Ambridge Theatre ad
Daily Citizen
September 3, 1948

A more modern classic, in technicolor!

Glass Menagerie
Ambridge Theatre ad
Daily Citizen
November 11, 1950

Gotta wear those stylish 3D glasses! Eek! A lion in your lap!

Bwana Devil
Ambridge Theatre ad
Beaver Valley Times
April 17, 1953

On the giant, curved panoramic screen:

From Here to Eternity
Ambridge Theatre ad
Beaver Valley Times
October 3, 1953

Lassie and five cartoons in the morning, more-adult movies later in the day.

New Orleans Uncensored, Women's Prison, and Lassie
Ambridge Theatre ad
Daily Citizen
June 10, 1955

Get a free back to school pencil box! I loved pencil boxes!

Back to School Show
Ambridge Theatre ad
Beaver County Times
August 24, 1964

A double feature for rock music lovers:

Girl Happy and Ferry Cross the Mersey ad
Ambridge Theatre
Beaver County Times
May 28, 1965

The Ambridge had a stage in front of the screen, and the theater served as a venue for a variety of events besides movies including stage shows, meetings, card parties, cooking demonstrations, boxing matches, and beauty pageants.

Platinum Blonde Revue
Ambridge Theatre ad
Daily Times
May 3, 1939

A touring company of the more talented contestants from radio's popular Major Bowes' Amateur Hour made a stop at the Ambridge Theatre.

Major Bowes' Amateurs on Tour
Ambridge Theatre ad
Daily Times
March 12, 1936

A few members of the World Series winning Pirates and announcer Bob Prince, made a special appearance in 1960. [Update July 23, 2017: Butch O'Keefe says he was at the Pirates' appearance, and that Face and Smith sang. That's an unexpected detail of the event.]

Pirates at Ambridge Theatre ad
Beaver County Times
November 15, 1960

The Ambridge closed in the summer of 1965 and was razed later than year to make room for a new bank building. I think the photo below with the blank marquee and empty looking buildings next to the theater was probably taken between the time the theater closed and its razing.

Ambridge Theatre
714 Merchant St.
1965
Laughlin Memorial Library archives

It doesn't look like much of the once beautiful building was saved during the demolition.

Ambridge Theatre being razed
Beaver County Times
November 8, 1965

Times caption for the photo above:

THEATER BUILDING BEING RAZED -- This is how the lobby of the Ambridge Theater (sic) looks as it is being torn down by a wrecking crew to make way for another office of Pittsburgh National Bank.

Crane razing Ambridge Theatre
Beaver County Times
November 19, 1965

Times caption for the photo above:

BEING RAZED -- Demolition work on the former Ambridge Theater (sic) building, Merchant Street, is expected to be completed by the end of this month. Plsburgh Naional (sic) Bank will open an outlet on the site.

Today, the former Pittsburgh National Bank building is occupied by Huntington Bank. The Ambridge Theatre's entrance was where the parking lot between the bank and Alexander's Restaurant is.


My memories of the Ambridge Theatre

Too bad none of the photos are in color, showing the marquee lit at night; it was beautiful. I remember the lights being orange, gold, and cream, perhaps because of the "Spanish and Italian influence."

I remember standing in long lines stretching from the theater's entrance to 7th St., then curving up 7th St., waiting to buy tickets for movies.

I would buy tickets at the ticket booth near the sidewalk, then walk through the outer lobby over a red carpet up a slightly sloping floor. Framed posters advertising coming attractions hung on either side of the lobby. At the far end of that outer lobby, there were doors leading to an inner lobby.

The refreshment counter was on the right side of that inner lobby. My mom usually gave me some change to buy candy at the counter. Since the projectionist had to change reels of film between the cartoon and the first movie, and again before the second movie of a double feature, there were intermissions giving me time to go to the refreshment counter if I hadn't bought any candy when I first went into the theater.

My favorite movie candies were the boxes of caramel creams, nonpareils, and Jordan Almonds. I also have a distinct memory of eating Good & Plenty at the theater, which would have been a weird thing for me to buy, because I didn't like Good & Plenty candy much.

I have other, pretty vague memories of that inner lobby: a pay phone hung on the left side, stairs to the balcony, and a pop machine that dispensed your drink selection into a small paper cup.

From the inner lobby, movie-goers would make a right into the large seating area that sloped gently down towards the screen. A curtain covered the screen, parting when the show was about to start.

I can recall only a few of the movies I saw at the Ambridge, most of them in my teen years: The Cardinal (the birth scene in that movie is still seared into my mind); Flight from Ashiya (a movie I was not excited about, but which I sat through twice, because I had a celebrity crush on one of its stars, George Chakiris, who I'd seen in West Side Story. I neglected to call my mom to tell her I was going to watch the movie again, and I later found her in the lobby, extremely worried); It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World; It's a Hard Day's Night; and the first James Bond movie I saw, Goldfinger (my uncle later told my mom that he was shocked she'd allowed me to see it as there was "nudity" in it).

A Hard Day's Night
Ambridge Theatre ad
Beaver County Times
December 21, 1964

The Ambridge would give parochial school students vouchers for discounts to religious-themed movies which the theater would run on Holy Days of Obligation. We didn't have school on the holy days, and I guess the Ambridge was trying to keep us Catholic kids wholesomely entertained and out of trouble.

The Song of Sister Maria
Ambridge Theatre ad
Beaver County Times 
May 21, 1960

_____

You'll often hear Bridgers who grew up in the early 1950s or earlier reminisce how Ambridge once had four theaters operating on Merchant St. And that's true. At least for a short time.
Here are those four theatres and the years they were open. As you can see, Ambridge had all four theaters open for only about six or seven years. But having four theaters to choose from was great while it lasted.

Prince Theatre: early 1920s - 1951 (?)
Ambridge Theatre: 1928 - 1965
Penn Theatre: 1933 (?) - early 1950s
State Theatre: 1944 - 1959

And apparently, four different theaters may have operated at the same time in an earlier era. In the Beaver County Times, August 13, 1965, Tom Moore, a long-time projectionist for several theaters says that in the early 1920s, Ambridge had four theaters: Palm Gardens, Idle Hours, Family, and Grand.

When black sugar rained on Ambridge

Recently, the American Lung Association found that although the air quality in Beaver County remains among the worst in the country, the area got a "pass" on "particle pollution." That news made me think--not fondly--of "black sugar"--gritty soot that fell on Ambridge and nearby communities during my growing up years in the 1950s and '60s.

Fireman Russell McCutcheon hosing away black sugar

first Ambridge Municipal Building

10th and Merchant Sts.

1960

Courtesy Borough of Ambridge

Black sugar memories

I have vivid memories of my grandmother sweeping black sugar from the front porch every day, day after day, sometimes twice a day. The black sugar was light enough that each sweep of the broom would scatter the black sugar forward as if the soot were a dusting of dry snow.

I also remember my grandmother sitting on that porch's swing, talking with our next door neighbor, Mrs. Olkowski, who was sitting on her porch swing, about how it looked like blame for the black sugar could be traced to the power plant in South Heights, across the Ohio River.

Black sugar would find its way into the house too, deposited on window sills that had to be dusted daily when the windows were open during warm weather--which they frequently were in those days before homes had air conditioners.

Another summer memory was black sugar floating in the gutters along the sides of the Ambridge Borough Swimming Pool, or in drifts along the pool's bottom, carried by the current created by the pool filter. Before the pool would open, lifeguards would hose off the pool decks to clean them of black sugar.

In the winter, snow never stayed white for long before it was coated with a layer of black sugar. You could tell how many breaks in the snowfall had occurred by counting the number of layers of snow separated by black sugar.

The white sand in my backyard sandbox similarly would be topped regularly by a fresh layer of black sugar.

My family wasn't one to buy the latest in home appliances--I believe my mom was still using a wringer washer when I left for college in 1967--but my dad bought a gas dryer in the early '50s after he found my mom bringing in the freshly washed diapers she had hung in our backyard to dry, in order to rewash them, after black sugar had made them too filthy to use.

A rather gross childhood memory was my nose producing black and gray snot and "boogers" that I didn't realize at the time weren't the normal color of nasal mucous. How would I even know that? No adult who cared for me ever mentioned it, and I wasn't the kind of kid who went around comparing boogers with other kids. At least my nose mucous was trying to do its job, keeping at least some of the inhaled black sugar from traveling further into my body.


The history of the black sugar rain of aggravation

In the photo below, the dark areas of the sidewalk being swept in front of 997 Merchant St. are not puddles; they're black sugar. I believe that when the photo was taken in 1962, 997 Merchant was the Motive Parts store; it's now F. D. Strano Sales. The building to the right of 997 was the Pennsylvania State Liquor Store at 999 Merchant St; you can see part of its sign at the top of the photo. It still sells wine and liquor as the Ambridge Wine & Spirits Shop. Beyond that, across 10th St., are the old Ambridge Municipal Building and to the right of that, Pittsburgh Auto Equipment Co., 1007 Merchant St., now the home of Pizza House "Police Station" Pizza.

The photo once had a typed caption that's partly cut off in the copy of the photo I have. This is what I can read:

The 'black sugar' mess has scared away his customers...having nothing else to do--at least HE tries to keep Ambridge clean.

Sweeping black sugar
997 Merchant St.
July 30, 1962
Courtesy Borough of Ambridge

I don't know yet when the black sugar problem began in Ambridge, but it may have started when the area plants and mills switched to burning a different kind of coal than they'd previously used, maybe in the 1940s. Does anyone remember Ambridge before black sugar was such a nuisance?

The black sugar must have been especially bad in the summer of 1953. Ambridge residents were angry about the exceptionally heavy amount of black sugar that had fallen at least twice that summer. As a result the Ambridge Chamber of Commerce formed a committee to investigate the source of the problem.

The July 8, 1953, Beaver Valley Times quoted Art Bray, the Chamber's Executive Secretary, saying:

In an industrial area such as Ambridge, the residents can expect a certain amount of dirt. But the complaints have become so numerous that we couldn't side-step the issue...The chamber realizes that we are living in an industrial area and matters such as these take time to alleviate.

The "time to alleviate" the problem turned out to be more than a decade, even though the primary source of black sugar was quickly identified as the J&L steel mill across the Ohio River in Aliquippa, perhaps with a contribution by Duquesne Light Co.'s Phillips Power Station in South Heights, also across the river.

Ambridge Burgess Walter Panek also appointed a committee after hundreds of complaints from residents poured in, and the Chamber didn't seem to be taking action quickly enough. Panek was quoted in the August 25, 1953, Beaver Valley Times as saying, "The situation has become unbearable."

One of the members of that committee, Dr. George H. Foster, complained, "We hear about the wonderful advances in science on smoke control, but where?--certainly not here!"

Jump forward to February 11, 1958, when, according to the Beaver Valley Times, the Ambridge Borough Council was again discussing the black sugar problem. Panek said that J&L had promised to correct the situation two years before, but had failed to do so. The Ambridge Board of Health reported that the black sugar actually was getting worse. Panek said, "Ambridge would be a fine place to live if it wasn't for the black sugar." But a Beaver Valley Times editorial two days later didn't sound sympathetic to Ambridge's plight: "It is a vexing problem, assuredly. But since Beaver County's economy is so greatly dependent upon heavy industry, we can all expect to put up with a certain degree of smoke and air pollution."

The October 6, 1958, Beaver Valley Times, wrote that black sugar continued to plague Ambridge, but suggested that the Phillips Power Station might be to blame, because black sugar had continued falling even though J&L and other local steel mills had been closed because of a steel strike.

In the late 1950s, the Air Pollution Control Section of the Pennsylvania Division of Occupational Health had done a study and found Ambridge had a "definite problem" with "particulate matter in the atmosphere." [Ambridge residents were shocked at this finding! Yes, that's sarcasm.] The "large and coarse" particulates were traced to the burning of pulverized coal. The report went on to say that Ambridge had a "relatively high concentration of suspended particulate matter," but couldn't pinpoint the exact nature of the soot or its source. (Daily Citizen, February 10, 1959)

Although Ambridge had passed the first air pollution control ordinance in Beaver County, the law couldn't be enforced beyond the borough's borders, so there was little Ambridge could do alone to control black sugar blowing from elsewhere. Finally, in 1960, the state passed the Air Pollution Control Act which addressed that issue, but apparently never enforced it in the Ambridge area.

The July 12, 1961, the Beaver County Times noticed that Ambridge had been plagued by black sugar "for several years." Only several years?!

By that time, the thoroughly fed up Ambridge Council President, Floree Aquino, was spearheading the fight against black sugar, and threatening to take legal action against J&L, noting in August 1961, "J&L corrected the pollution problem at its Pittsburgh plant and there is no reason why the firm can't do the same thing in Aliquippa." J&L claimed that it had already spent $5,000,000 to control air pollution at the Aliquippa mill and planned to spend more. (Beaver County Times, Aug. 15, 1961)

Later that month, Aquino, Panek, and other borough officials met with J&L Board Chairman Avery C. Adams at J&L headquaters in Pittsburgh. Aquino told Adams that black sugar was a health nuisance and "actually causing people to choose to live elsewhere." Adams told the Ambridge representatives that J&L knew the company had a serious problem at its South Mill in Aliquippa. "I assure you that we will start the engineering necessary to install the proper new control equipment immediately....We will solve this problem although it is going to take both time and money to do it." Aquino left the meeting feeling "well pleased." (Pittsburgh Press, August 24, 1961)

In January 1962, Aquino blamed black sugar for making Ambridge the "dirtiest community in western Pennsylvania" during a State Health Department hearing about air pollution regulations. The department and the Region 3 Air Pollution Control Association were taken on a bus tour of Ambridge and other Beaver County communities to see the smoke emitted by pollution sources. An extensive study of county air pollution and its sources was going to be started and would take about a year to complete. (Beaver County Times, January 18, 1962; Gettysburg Times, January 18, 1962)

Four months later, the Beaver County Times reported, "Ambridge has been plagued for some time by 'black sugar,' a soot-like substance, but Saturday's deluge was the worst seen here by Floree Aquino." Aquino blamed J&L of "gross negligence" and said he was going to contact J&L officials. Again. (Beaver County Times, May 21, 1962)

Over a year later, J&L again promised to do something about black sugar:

In response to a request from the Pennsylvania Air Pollution Control Commission, the company has agreed to install equipment at its South Mills boiler house, the alleged source of the "black sugar," to abate the pollutant. Work on the installation is expect to be started early next year.

The June 24, 1963, Beaver County Times ominously noted:

This will be a costly project for J and L, whose Aliquippa Works is Beaver County's biggest industry. It comes at a time when J and L, like other American steel firms, is losing sales to foreign competitors. This competition from abroad is cutting into J and L's jobs and profits, yet the cost of the air pollution control equipment must be financed from profits.

The next month, the Times wrote that the Region III Air Pollution Control Association had decided to ask the Pennsylvania Air Pollution Commission to adopt regulations to control the county's air pollution.

Tests of the air over the county made during the past two years by the State Department of Health have revealed that the volume of air pollution here is among the highest in the country. County residents pay heavily for these pollutants through medical bills, cleaning costs and home maintenance expenses. 

The Times said that local pollution was heaviest in Ambridge, Aliquippa, and Midland, with Ambridge especially suffering because of black sugar. (Beaver County Times, July 16, 1963)

Over a year later, the Commission hadn't yet approved air pollution regulations for Beaver County, and Aquino accused it of "dragging its feet." But there was good news. Aquino said that by October 15, the black sugar problem in Ambridge should end, as that was the date J&L was scheduled to begin operating air pollution controls in Aliquippa. (Beaver County Times, August 11, 1964)

If you guessed J&L missed that scheduled date, you guessed right. The company said delays in the shipment of vital parts of the smoke control equipment meant that its operation would need to be postponed for "a few weeks." J&L said it expected to have the equipment running before a January 1965 deadline.

I'm still looking for the date when J&L finally started operating its air pollution controls, and black sugar finally stopped falling on Ambridge. It does appear to have been sometime in 1964, as an article in the August 4, 1965, Times said that J&L was adding more smoke control equipment to clean dust from blast furnaces "in addition to the electrostatic precipitators and mechanical dust collectors which went into operation on the South Mills Boiler House last year." I'll update this article when I find a more exact date than "last year."

Ambridge memorabilia: the "meat man" and his bus

I am especially fond of today's Ambridge memorabilia item for several reasons, including the fact that I first saw it during one of my earliest visits with Bob Mikush to talk about Ambridge history.

Bob started showing me some of his Ambridge memorabilia, and when he brought this out, the following conversation ensued:

Bob: Bet you don't know what this is.

Me: It's the meat man's bus!

Bob: How old are you?!

Which made me laugh. Old enough to remember the meat man's bus which had made quite an impression on me when I was pretty young.

Mobile Meat Market ashtray
circa 1940s - early '50s
owned by Bob Mikush

When I was growing up in Ambridge in the 1950s, residents didn't always need to go to the store to buy fresh food items, sometimes they came to you, if not to your door, then at least to the curb on your block, via a variety of trucks. Having sellers regularly come to your block made life easier at a time when most families had only one car which the wage-earner took to work--if the family owned a car at all.

Among the people who regularly brought food to our house or block, I remember the United Dairy milkman, the "egg lady," Gutowski's bakery, plus the huckster who sold fruit and vegetables. And the "meat man."

While milkmen weren't uncommon in that era, a butcher on a bus was. In my house, he was known as "the meat man."

One of the other reasons I was so excited when Bob showed me the "Mobile Meat Market" ashtray was because virtually no one I'd talked to about growing up in Ambridge in the 1950s remembered the meat man's bus, even older neighbors. When I mentioned my memories of the meat man's bus, most people were either skeptical, or they outright scoffed.

Yet my memories of going onto the meat man's bus with my grandmother seemed genuine, especially memories of the interior: the bus smelling of raw meat; a wooden chopping block; cleavers and knives hanging from hooks; meat being brought out from a refrigerator; and sawdust covering the floor to sop up blood. All I really remember about the meat man himself was that he wore a white apron that was stained with blood. I also have a vague memory of the meat man sometimes having a helper on the bus working with him.

I remember going for a Sunday drive with my family--remember those?--up Glenwood Ave. towards Ridge Rd. and driving past a house with the meat man's bus parked on the side. I was so thrilled! Wow, that must be the meat man's house! To me, the meat man was a celebrity.

Weird the things that stick with you 60 years later.

When Bob showed me the Mobile Meat Market ashtray, I felt vindicated. I had proof the meat man and his bus once existed.

More recently, I came across this ad in the Holy Trinity R. C. Croatian Church dedication program from 1950:

Mobile Meat Market ad
Holy Trinity R. C. Croatian Church dedication program
December 17, 1950

John Domansky: memories of growing up in Ambridge, 1935 - 1954

John Domansky, Jr., John Domansky, Sr., and Jack Eppley

in front of John Domansky Tailor Shop

293 Fourteenth Street

1941

photo courtesy of John Domansky, Jr.

used with permission

In the photo above, John Domansky, Jr., age 9, his father, and Jack Eppley, who was married to John Jr.'s sister Frances, are shown standing in front of the John Domansky Tailor Shop.

Here are some of John Jr.'s memories of growing up in Ambridge:

I went to Holy Redeemer, as Divine Redeemer was then called, kindergarten to 8th grade. In 1948 I left for Boys Town. I graduated in 1950 from a pottery trade school. 

Before I came out here to Chicago in December 1954 with my sister and brother-in-law, I lived at a number of places in Ambridge. The last place I lived before moving to Chicago was 10th and Melrose; from 1952 to '54 I lived at 1925 Duss Avenue; in 1951 I briefly lived on 17th just up from Lenz; and before that, 1938 though 1951, at 293 Fourteenth Street, most memories come from there. Earlier, from '35 to '37, I lived above D'Ambrosio's Shoe Shop at 12th and Merchant. My first home was next to the Ambridge Hotel which was at 8th and Merchant.

Dad had a tailor shop at 293 Fourteenth Street for a while, with painted windows and all, and a big steam presser. The tailor shop was there for about 15 years maybe. On the right side inside, was the big steam presser, and steam shot out of the right side of the building to a blind alley. On the left was his Singer pedal sewing machine, both of which I ran at age 12.

Dad did alterations and took in cleaning, etc. He worked in downtown Pittsburgh and worked week-ends in his shop. He made me a confirmation suit overnight. He went to suit buyers' homes to measure the men, with a piece of paper, pencil, and a thin chalk marker. He wrote it all down, then made the suits, no returns ever that I know of. He was very good at math, I was better, and my son is five times as good as me.

My dad took me to many taverns and the Sokol club on Duss and 4th St. for hot dogs with sauerkraut and mustard. Once I ran away from home and landed in the Pittsburgh juvenile home; he came and got me and bought me a hot dog off a cart. Never laid a hand on me nor did Mom.

The wine killed my dad in 1948 in the pathway to our house between the two big buildings on the short 14th St. block before Boyleston St.

Mom was gone a lot, working in Glen Osborne and home on weekends. I would visit Mom in Glen Osborne often. She died in 1981.

To make creamed chicken on Sundays we got live chickens from Slavik's Market on 12th Street. Slavik kept livestock behind the store, along the Lias' home. The Lias family were West Virginia people who lived right behind the bar on Wagner St. The Lias boy swam in the river with us. We were called river rats. One thing about the river from 11th to 15th, 16th Sts. was the big rocks on the shore, you could sunbathe on them.

Dorothy Domansky and John Domansky, Jr.
next to D'Ambrosio Shoe Repair Shop
12th and Merchant Sts.
1937

photo courtesy of John Domansky, Jr.

used with permission

Frank Domansky (John Jr.'s uncle), Anne Domansky (John Jr.'s sister), Cousin Dorthy Domansky,

and Tom Varcheka, foreman at H.H. Robertson

14th and Merchant Sts., northwest corner

1942

photo courtesy of John Domansky, Jr.

used with permission

My cousin Dorothy played the accordion when she came to visit, a block party started here. Polkas on 14th Street!

I roamed free on my own for a lot of years. Having no car until out here in Chicago, I walked all over, 14th St. to Divine Redeemer was daily.*

I walked to Fair Oaks to visit the Otrahalics on Ambridge Ave. I'd walk to the Fair Oaks Bowling Alley on Big Sewickley Creek Rd. and the gas station next to it, even down to Zassick's farm to ride a horse or to Firemen's Park for a picnic.* A big 50-foot electric tower was in Big Sewickley Creek, the water was about seven-feet deep and diveable, so I did it, I dove off the concrete pad, about eight-feet high. I fished many times too.

I also remember when the bridge over Big Sewickley Creek going down to Ambridge was walked over by using only boards. This was at Ambridge Ave. at the sharp curve to go through Fair Oaks. The bridge was the only entrance into the valley behind Ambridge Ave. towards the hills behind. They built a new bridge in the late '70s. **

The 291 Fourteenth Street tailor shop, Hacker's, somehow deep in my memory, I see that name. The son was Clayton Marquette, trainer of 1972 Olympian winner Cathy Rigby. I have a May 5, 1972, Life magazine with a four-page layout on Cathy, and it shows Bud, as he was known, a former AAU gymnastic champ himself. Many days we walked on our hands in front of both tailor shops. Oh yes, I see a Hacker, a short German guy there, but not Bud's name, maybe he was adopted. Bud worked at H. H. Robertson also, like me. He cut all the crating lumber to ship the skylights I made. Bud tried to get me into the Maennerchor gym on Sherman St. I was a natural athlete and diver, have eight stitches in my head from top rock diving at the Chicago Coast Guard Station at 95th St. in Chicago. I would go to the Beaver River and dive off bluffs, and dive off the Baden docks which were 10-feet high. I threatened to dive off the Ambridge - Aliquippa Bridge a few times.

I came here to Chicago for work. I was laid off from Robertson in early '54, ended up at Republic Steel, retired in 1995 after 40 years as a welder, furniture refinisher, meat cutter, and still yet, antique dealer and seller and buyer, on eBay since 1998.

_____

John Domansky, Jr. is a frequent commenter on this blog. He's hoping to connect with people who knew him when he lived in Ambridge, or people who grew up in Ambridge when he did. If you fall into either category, please leave a comment below.

* At the time John Jr. was growing up, the Divine Redeemer School was located at 300 Merchant St., currently the location of Karnavas Vending Co.

** Zassick's farm and Firemen's Park were once on Big Sewickley Creek Road. The park was where the Economy Borough sewage plant and Hrinko Trucking are now located.

*** The new bridge was constructed in the late 1970s at the intersection of Ambridge Ave. and Main St. after the Ambridge end of Valley Rd. was cut off from the Harmony Township end because Big Sewickley Creek was causing the road to subside. Before then, both ends of Valley Rd. were connected.

Wrapping Christmas gifts at Sears, Northern Lights

Finding a Christmas season job wasn't easy during my college years at the end of the 1960s, not because jobs were scarce, but because I wasn't able to come home to Ambridge until shortly before Christmas Day. Most businesses that hired for the season tended to want employees who could work from before Thanksgiving through Christmas Eve.

So, when Sears at Northern Lights called in December while I was still at school and asked my mom to check with me to see if I'd be interested in working between the day I got home from school through Christmas Eve as a gift-wrapper, I said, "Sure!" Sounded like something I might even enjoy doing. And if I didn't, at least I'd be making a little money.

Wrapping Christmas gifts at Sears, which I did two Decembers in a row, turned out to be one of my favorite jobs ever.

At the time, Northern Lights, which had opened in 1956, was a busy, thriving place, crowded with shoppers, and despite its huge parking lot, finding an empty space often wasn't easy. Sears, a newly built addition to the center at its far northwest corner, where Giant Eagle is now, was only a few years old, having opened in October 1963.

Sears, Northern Lights,
Beaver County Times,
October 22, 1963

This Sears was much bigger and, not surprisingly, more modern than the old Ambridge store at 653-655 Merchant Street which had closed the week before the Northern Lights store opened.

The Ambridge store had carried appliances, sporting goods, tires and car accessories, paints and building materials, and tools--oh, and toys in Toy Town at Christmastime. Everything else had to be ordered from the Sears catalog, then picked up at the store when delivered. But the Northern Lights store was a complete department store, carrying everything the Ambridge store had, plus clothing including furs*, shoes, jewelry, cosmetics and perfume, candy, white goods (linens, towels, drapes), housewares, and furniture. And there was a snack bar.

Christmas ad, kids' winter outerwear
Sears Northern Lights
Beaver County Times
December 16, 1969

During my wrapping stints, the Northern Lights Sears still had a new store feel, all bright and shiny, but even more so decorated for the holiday season. Lights twinkled, ornaments sparkled, tinsel glittered. The store was bustling with shoppers eager to buy and staffed with employees eager to help them do that.

Christmas ad: electric organs, record players, and radios
Sears, Northern Lights
Beaver County Times
December 2, 1969

The small gift wrapping counter was set off from the shopping areas, near the customer service and credit departments if I'm remembering correctly. Even so, the store's cheery Christmas spirit flowed into our little out-of-the-way nook.

Depending on how busy the store was expected to be, I usually worked with one or two affable and energetic young women. We got along great and laughed a lot together. At one point, a manager came to the wrapping counter to try to recruit one of us to demonstrate a new waist-slimming product--a platform that rotated back and forth as you did the twist on it. The not-perfect gift for someone you loved, but maybe a buyer would think ahead to her New Years resolution to get in shape. One of my colleagues was delighted to be asked to perform for customers for a bit, and quickly volunteered.

Christmas ad, TVs
Sears Northern Lights
Beaver County Times
December 9, 1969

Sears offered customers free gift boxes and wrapping. The wrapping wasn't anything fancy. Customers got a box lined with tissue paper, a choice of papers, some ribbon, and a bow. Even with my minimal gift wrapping experience I could handle that without training, which hadn't been offered anyway. Really, the hardest part often was nicely folding the clothes and Christmas towels and cloth napkins before arranging them in the box. Or removing stubborn price tags.

We wrapped bracelets, blankets, blenders, babies' toys, and bubble bath. We wrapped record players, eight-track players, hair dyers, and electric shavers. Luckily, the bulkier items already came in a box, and no one asked us to wrap a car battery or a bike.

Christmas ad, automotive center
Sears Northern Lights
Beaver County Times
December 9, 1969

The customers were uniformly pleasant, chatting about their Christmas plans and the people the gifts were for, while patiently waiting for us to finish the wrapping. Who knew that gift wrapping could be such a social activity?

Most shoppers just wanted boxes, said thanks, and hurried on their way. But some, mostly men, were grateful to avail themselves of the wrapping, especially as Christmas got nearer. I believe many men would have happily paid to have their gifts wrapped. Free wrapping made them even jollier. And their apparently having stopped at a bar on their way to the store made them jollier still.

Christmas ad, women's clothing
Sears Northern Lights
Beaver County Times
December 2, 1969

Often the men would ask our opinion about what they'd bought. Was the robe appropriate for a woman in her 60s? Was the scarf trendy enough to satisfy a teen? Their sister was about our size, did we think a "medium" sweater would fit? Did we like the smell of Yardley's English Lavender?

Christmas ad: women's robes and hose
Sears Northern Lights
Beaver County Times
December 16, 1969

Some of the men would look mildly embarassed, others unabashedly naughty, when we opened their bags to find sheer black negligees and lacy lingerie. Others, I think, just wanted to see how we'd react, if we'd say anything about the sexy gifts. But we were gift wrapping professionals, and we didn't bat an eye.

Our late Christmas Eve customers were mostly men, relieved to have found something acceptable to give their kids, wife, parent, or girlfriend. And, yes, even the remaining wrapping paper we had would be fine.

Christmas ad, last minute gifts

Sears Northern Lights

Beaver County Times

December 22, 1969

On Christmas Eve, I was wistful as I stamped my time-card and turned it in for the last time, then stepped out into the cold, crisp night air to walk to the car where my mother was waiting to pick me up. I was looking forward to joining my family for their traditional Wiligia dinner, followed by Midnight Mass at Divine Redeemer Church. But I'd miss the joyful holiday bustle and the happy people who let us wrap their gifts.
_____

* Sears trivia: When the Northern Lights store opened in October 1963, the manager said that Sears sold more minks than any other store in the world.

Up on the Lowdown

Microsoft Word

 by Robert Giles

“Who’s that at the door?”

“It’s Mary, Mom.”

“I’m not going to get a thing done this evening. Oh, alright, Bobby, let her in.”

“Hello, Bobby. Where’s your mama?”

“In the kitchen…. Mary’s here, Mom.”

Mom led Mary into the living room and sat her down on the sofa.

“Bobby, put the kettle on.”

I went to the kitchen and put on the kettle. Then I hurried back to the living room to hear what Mary had to say. Mary was always up on the lowdown.

Mary was still inquiring about Grandma’s health.

“Is Grandma still taking that sassafras tea I gave her?”

“Oh, yes, well she’s feeling a little better,” Mom fibbed.

“You know, when you get old you get blue. There’s no escaping it. Sitting by the window all day in a rocking chair doesn't help. A little bit of that tea will fix her up, poor thing.

If that doesn't help, let me know and I’ll give her some ginseng. Deedee found a new bunch up in Kingerski’s Hollow the other day.”

I went to the kitchen and poured two cups of Maxwell House for Mom and Mary. I put a little extra sugar in Mary’s, just the way she liked it.

“Speaking of Grandma, sitting in that rocker has got to affect her innards. She doesn't get bound up does she? (Mary didn’t like to use the word “constipated”.)

“Why no, she hasn't complained of it, not that she would. She doesn't like to complain.”

“That’s how old folks are. Why complain? Things could always be worse.

Did I tell you about the enema I gave old lady Butnik? Mildred says I saved her life. The old lady was backed up like the Aswan Dam and just wanted to die. Mildred didn’t know where to turn.

A person feels like if they go to a medical doctor for an impacted stool, they will just get the brushoff. ‘These things take time,’ they will say. Well sometimes Mother Nature needs a little help.”

I piped in, “Did you give her some of that “Big Thunder Prune Juice”?

“Why Bobby, that might work. I’m not familiar with that brand. Mildred did try some prune juice for a couple of days.”

“If prune juice doesn't do the trick, have her swallow a stick of dynamite." (I was thinking of a Daffy Duck cartoon.)

“Why you little half-baked potato, I do think you’re making fun of me. You know, I've put spells on little boys before. You wouldn’t want me to put a hex on you, would you?” Mary’s sharp nose threatened from between her pink cheeks. I could swear her left eye turned from blue to green and back to blue again.

“Bobby, either be quiet or go read a book”, Mom commanded.

Mary continued with her story. “You know, it would have taken maybe three sticks of dynamite - Oh, I’m as bad as the boy. An impacted stool is no laughing matter. I tell you old Mrs. Butnik was standing on a banana peel at death’s door. ‘Please help, whatever you can do’, Mildred begged me.

‘You’re my angel of mercy.’

I’m no angel but I do know a thing or two about helping my neighbors when they are in trouble. I got out my bladder and hose and squeeze bottle of glycerin and took charge.

We got old Mrs. Butnik up on the toilet – you know it wasn’t hard because she is just wasting away.

She jumped about two inches off the seat when I did the insertion so I knew she was alive. When I finished, we left her there. Mildred and I started a little game of pinochle while we waited.

I know you want to hear me describe the explosion, Bobby, but it wasn’t  like that. But imagine what would happen if the Aswan High Dam suddenly collapsed.

'Don’t flush that toilet', I yelled. Too late, Mildred flushed it while I was helping her mother back into bed.

I’m afraid there was an overflow and Mildred’s plush turquoise rug got ruined. I don’t know why people feel that have to pretty up a bathroom like that anyway.”

In another hour or so, Mary exhausted all her topics. We all caught our breaths.

Then it was out the door and up the street. Well, not all the way up the street. Mary had a few more neighbors to call upon before she reached the end of the block.

I don’t think Mary ever actually put a curse on me but if she did, it would explain a lot.