Group photo: United Polish Societies Drum and Bugle Corps

Until I started working on this blog, I had no idea that Ambridge once had so many bands!

The United Polish Societies Drum and Bugle Corps was created in 1938. The corps made its public debut in that year's Halloween Parade, dressed in mummer's costumes. Later that year, they marched in their corps uniforms in the Armistice Day* parade in Beaver Falls.

United Polish Societies Drum and Bugle Corps
on Laughlin Memorial Library steps
circa 1938
25th Anniversary Program
United Polish Societies of Ambridge

The United Polish Societies 25th Anniversary Program identifies the band members as follows:

First row: Alfreda Ryzowicz, R. Giska, E. Gadomski, A. Barszcz, S. Barszcz, L. Grzegorek, D. Gadomski, A. Gause, H. Wolicki, R. Tomaszewski, L. Topolski, W. Ryzowicz, J. Lojek, F. Skindzier, Vaclav Klimek, instructor.

Second row: E. Terlewski, E. Kalinowski, F. Jankiewicz, G. Sulkowski, R. Makowski, L. Ostrowski, H. Urbanik, G. Lipinski, S. Gruszczynski, S. Malinowski, A. Kokoszka, D. Rubel, John F. Tomaszewski, president.

Third row: S. Kowalski, I. Bialorucki, R. Lojek, W. Swiniarska, G. Kokoszka, D. Wagner, D. Topolski, E. Pokryzwnicki, D. Tomaszewski, R. Szczepaniak, H. Wisniecwski.

Fourth row: W. Janicki, W. Bajek, H. Barszcz, J. Kosinski, A. Sowa, E. Rubel, V. Janicki, P. Lewandowski, R. Kasper, A. Janicki, H. Kowalski.

Drum Major First Half: Alfreda Ryzowiecz, Second Half: Dolores Tomaszewski. Flags donated by: Stanley Ference, Frank Ference, Stanley Jurkowski, Jr., and J. C. Smalling.

*****

There are a lot of familiar Ambridge family names on that list. I had to laugh, because my spellchecker was really busy, marking all the last names but one as misspelled. The only name my spellchecker approved of was "Wagner."

Vaclav Klimek taught music and led the Ambridge Community Band, Ambridge Symphony Orchestra, and Sewickley Symphony Orchestra, although he made his living as a home builder.

My mother's maiden name was "Gause. My sister who does genealogy is checking to see if the "A. Gause" in the photo might be related to us.

*****

The United Polish Societies of Ambridge was founded in May 1930 with the aim of working in the interest of all Polish people in Ambridge and keeping Polish language and customs alive.

Ambridge's Polish National Alliance, Gr. 1013, and Polish Falcons Nest 182 were the most prominent groups in United Polish Societies. I'm not sure which other Ambridge Polish groups were officially part of the United Polish Societies, but the 25th Anniversary Program has photos of members of the following groups:

Polish-American Citizen Club of Ambridge,
Polish Women's Alliance, Gr. 300,
Polish Army Veterans Post 60,
Women's Auxiliary of Polish Veterans Post 60,
St. Stanislaus Gr. 889, P. R.C.U. (Polish Roman Catholic Union),
St. Stanislaus P.T.O.,
St. Hedwig Society, Gr. 47,
St. Joseph Union, Gr. 58,
Queen Wanda Society, Gr. 2193,
Rosary Society (of St. Stanislaus?).
_____

* Now Veteran's Day

Group photo: Carpatho-Russian Band 1920

Many Ambridge organizations once had bands. The photo below is of the Carpatho-Russian Band of Ambridge PA, from the collection of the late local historian William (Bill) Bowan in Laughlin Memorial Library's archives.

St. Michael's Band
1920? 1925?
Laughlin Memorial Library archives

Based on the brickwork around the doors and windows, I would say that the photo was taken on the steps of St. Michael's Hall, which once stood at 308 Maplewood Ave. You can read more about that St. Michael's Hall, as well as the other St. Michael's Hall on Pine St., in my June 29, 2014, article, "Two St. Michael's and the Masons."

*****

Addendum: After I posted the above information and photo, Carol Demchak Flanigan provided a newspaper clipping with the same photo that she says was published in the late '70s by the Beaver County Times as a "Looking Back" feature. Carol's grandfather, Roman Demchak, is in the photo.

The Times article provided some information about the band and identified all the members but one.

According to the article, Peter Pawlack organized the band around 1920 for Holy Ghost Orthodox Church--which still exists at the corner of 2nd St. and Maplewood Ave.--and said the above photo was taken "about 1925."

The band was active for 12 years and escorted the funeral processions of members of Holy Ghost to 4th St. and Glenwood Ave. The band then traveled with the procession to Economy Cemetery, playing "solemn" music on the way to the cemetery, but "lively" music on the return to St. Michael's Hall.

From left to right, the band members are identified as:

First row: Mike Pristash, Mike Dzabiak, John Bowan

Second row: Mike Painka, Peter Pawlack, Peter Belchyk, Roman Demchak

Third row: Makar Slapak, Sava Dunda, Angelo Borgia, Tony Marzlo, John Minnick, Andrew Felk, unidentified, George Pawelchack, Mike Dudenich, Emil Bentley, John Fedoryk

Back row: (flag-bearers) Paul Fedoryk, Stanley Laban

If anyone knows the identify of the remaining unidentified band member, let me know, and I'll add it.

Thank you, Carol!

When Ambridge was "The Marvel City" and John Duss the musician was a selling point

On March 23, 2015, I posted "The selling of 'The Marvel City,'" about a May 23, 1904, Pittsburg Press* ad in which a real estate company touted to potential investors the wonders of the "grand central City of Economy" and then-embryonic Ambridge. If you haven't read that blog post, I urge you do to so, and click on the link there to the ad itself, which is astonishing in its aggrandizement of the Ambridge-Economy area, both as it was then, and as it was predicted to become.

That ad was followed the next day by a second, equally astonishing, I think, but for a different reason. This ad repeats some of the hyperbole of the previous day's ad, but features "the masterly musical triumphs" of John Duss in its sales pitch.

Praise of John Duss--one of the last trustees of, and when he died in 1951, the last surviving member of, The Harmony Society--the world's famous bandmaster," topped the ad, applauding the "music of prosperity" he brought to the "Marvelous New City of Economy" by selling off the Society's land. And behind a sketch of the new American Bridge plant, there's a huge one of Duss the conductor.

I suspect few people today remember Duss for his musical talents. I know how surprised I was when I first read about his career as conductor and composer shortly after I started this blog.

I've wondered if Duss, who surely thought very highly of his musical abilities, helped compose the ad.

Ad for "The Marvel City"
Pittsburg Press
May 24, 1904

You can read the ad much better in the online digitized edition of the Pittsburg Press by clicking here.

History has not been exactly kind to the reputation of Duss, accused of misappropriating the Society's money to support his lavish lifestyle, including taking "the New York City Metropolitan Opera Orchestra on a coast-to-coast tour as their 'guest conductor'–at the community's expense." His wife's decision to dissolve the Society and keep its assets led to an 11-year legal battle.

I've read some of the reviews written during Duss' musical career, and they range from raves, to pans of his performances and compositions as mere vanity projects. A good summary can be found at the Pittsburgh Music History site, which includes his dismissal by some critics as a "narcissistic buffoon."

Among Duss' contributions to Ambridge's music scene was the composition of a St. Veronica's mass that he conducted in the church in 1916. He conducted the music, much of it composed by him, during the Economy Centennial in 1924. Years after his "last public appearance as a conductor" at St. John's Lutheran Church in 1929, Duss exhibited his musical talents, whatever they may have been, at a 1947 concert at Old Economy.
_____

* Using the spelling "Pittsburg" used by the newspaper at that time.

Ambridge memorabilia: The 8th Beat

The 8th Beat was an Ambridge teen club during the mid-to-late 1960s.

The 8th Beat membership card
photo by Joe Ross
used with permission

Even though I was a teen living in Ambridge at the time this club operated, I have no memory of it at all. I know I never went there. so I need to rely on what I've been told by others about the club:

The 8th Beat held dances on the second floor of the I.S.D.A. (Italian Sons and Daughters of America)/Young Peoples Social Club building, 337 Merchant St. Getting to the second floor required a climb up a long flight of steep steps. The dance floor had a mirrored disco ball and a stage where live bands played.

I haven't been able to find any ads or articles that mention The 8th Beat. However, the April 5, 1966, Beaver County Times had an article about teen dances, run by Floree Aquino,* being held several times a week on the second floor of the Young Peoples Social Club. I do not know for sure if the club was The 8th Beat, but given the time period, I'm inclined to believe it was. The article said the Ambridge Borough had revoked the club's dance permit because the club wasn't inspected before the permit was issued. In addition, the Pennsylvania Department of Labor and Industry had found safety violations on the second floor of the building and had ordered Aquino to correct the violations that week or close the second floor.

In addition to the teen club, the Young Peoples Social Club held late Sunday night dances, "10:00 P.M. 'Til ?", for adults. Here's an ad for one of those dances:

Dance ad
Young Peoples Social Club
337 Merchant St.
Beaver County Times
February 13, 1964

The former I.S.D.A./Young Peoples' Social Club building still stands, its facade greatly altered, and houses a law office. I've been told the second floor ballroom still remains.
_____

* Floree Aquino was a long-time Ambridge politician, serving on the Ambridge Borough Council for 16 years, some of those years as president, who also served as County Treasurer. He was an early advocate for clean air in the Ambridge area and was a member of the Pennsylvania Pollution Control Board. You can see Aquino in a photo on the blog post "Ambridge Borough Swimming Pool Expansion: the salons' inspection."

Divine Redeemer St. George's Cadets

Divine Redeemer Church's St. George Cadets,
1916?
Daily Citizen, July 5, 1955

This was one of several vintage photos published by The Daily Citizen during Ambridge's Golden Jubilee (50th Anniversary) Celebration in 1955. I don't know anything about the photo other than the original caption which read:

ST. GEORGE CADETS, of the Divine Redeemer Church, organized in 1916, when this picture was taken by Valent Hovanec and Mike Safo. The cadets participated in the 1924 celebration parade. Known members of the band are: F. Zalmenek, A. Hertneki, V. Hovanec, A. Churni, T. Kerzan, T. Tkatch, T. Huk, M. Safo, V. Fagul, T. Hertnecki, B. Minueski, M. Hovanec, and C. Lulkovich.

I put a "?" after the 1916 date given for the photo because it looks like it was taken on the church's front steps, and the church wasn't built until 1918 according to the church's history.

The priest in the photo is most likely Rev. Ignatius S. Herkel who served as pastor from 1916 to 1941.

The "1924 celebration" was the Economy Centennial. The Centennial parade was held on June 7, 1924.

Here is a photo of the cadets published in Divine Redeemer's Golden Anniversary Celebration book in 1956:

St. George's Cadets, 1917
Divine Redeemer Church
Golden Anniversary book, 1956

The 1955 Accordion Band

Accordions and accordion music were popular in the 1940s and '50s, especially in Ambridge where the accordion was a featured instrument in the music of eastern and southern Europe our parents and grandparents enjoyed hearing and dancing to.

The young members of this 1955 accordion band are unidentified. Do you recognize anyone?

The band's director, Walter G. Soroko, may have given group accordion lessons at the Ambridge PNA/ZNP in the 1950s. Can anyone confirm that? I took My parents made me take accordion lessons there, and the name seems familiar.

Accordion Band members
Daily Citizen,
July 5, 1955

Original caption:

MEMBERS OF THE ACCORDION BAND under the direction of Walter G. Soroko who participated in the Friday evening preliminary program of the Golden Jubilee at the Ambridge High School stadium.

Child Labor

Microsoft Word

by Robert Giles

I sell the morning papers sir my name is Jimmy Brown ... Everybody knows that I'm the newsboy of the town

From the song “Jimmy Brown the Newsboy”*

“Well, if it isn’t Jimmy Brown, the newsboy. Anyone got a dollar?”

On top of the hill in Byersdale lived a family that loved hillbilly music. I delivered their paper. When I rang the bell to collect, they always had the phonograph going – Bill Monroe, Flatt & Scruggs, the Carter Family.

The paper route was handed down through my family. My sister was the first of us to deliver the Sun-Telegraph. No one called her “Jimmy Brown”. Mr. Shimrak over at the Isaly store used to tease her by calling her “Abe Lincoln”.

It took a certain amount of “grit” or “gumption” for a young girl to manage a paper route in 1956. My sister had more than her share of those qualities.

Mr. Shimrak must have been impressed. He gave Linda a job in his store, the first of a succession of Giles kids to clerk for the Shimraks. The clerkship at Isaly’s became a family tradition, just like delivering the newspaper.

I learned the newspaper delivery business helping my older brothers. My turn came when I was twelve or thirteen.

If I remember correctly, the “Sun-Telly” was an afternoon paper like the “Press”. About the time I inherited the route, it was bought out by the “Post-Gazette”, a morning paper, and became for a short while the “Post-Gazette & Sun-Telegraph”. This was too much of a mouth-full, and soon the “Sun-Telegraph” name was history.

One thing did not change – the “Post-Gazette” was and always would be a morning paper. I had to learn to get up every morning by 5:30 am.

I’m not sure now how it came about but we also delivered the “Press” on Sunday mornings.

I slept in a bedroom with three other brothers. So as not to wake up everyone, my mother would set the alarm clock in her room and come and rouse me. After a while I got into an “early to bed and early to rise” routine and did not need an alarm clock.

I had a knack for being able to sleep through all the inevitable horseplay that arises when four young boys are confined to a small room.

Once I was shaken awake by two older brothers.

“Bobby, you slept in. Mr. McBroom left your papers on the front porch a long time ago. You better get up.”

In a panic, I got dressed and ran down the steps and out onto the front porch. Where were the papers? The porch was empty.

I came back inside and glanced at the clock. It was one o’clock in the morning. Mr. McBroom wasn’t due for another four hours.

Another time my brothers put my hand in a bucket of water while I was in a deep sleep. They wanted to test something one of them had read – that the water would induce in the subject a need to get up and urinate.

I did not disappoint them. On my way back from the bathroom, I heard the sound of brotherly laughter.

The economics of the newspaper delivery business were not good. I suppose that is the reason that children got the job. The newspaper girl or boy got maybe a fraction of a cent on each weekday delivery – several cents on the more costly Sunday edition.

I was old enough to do the math. I had around fifty customers so I made about $3.75 per week – about $30.00 in today’s dollars - provided I could collect all the money I was owed. If I failed to collect from just one customer, my profits were reduced by the entire amount I didn’t collect, or a little more than 25 percent. I had to pay the route man whether I collected from all my customers or not.

Of course back then the word “deadbeat” wasn’t in my vocabulary. I was as naive as any other kid in his early teens. Adults were intimidating. If they said they didn’t have a dollar in the house and couldn’t pay me, who was I to argue?

I had a collection card for every customer. There were little squares with dates on them that you tore off and gave a customer when he paid. (The receipt system was later supplanted by an even more unsatisfactory way of keeping accounts – punch cards. The customer had a card, the paperboy another. The boy punched both cards to acknowledge payment.)

Imagine how eager people were to keep their punch card on hand for the paperboy - not very. If they couldn’t find a dollar, they certainly couldn’t find a punch card.

Some people went for a month or two without paying. “Mr. Cooper, you owe me $8.00.”

“What, that can’t be!”

“Well, here is your collection card and you can see I haven’t punched it for eight weeks.”

He would then argue that I had forgotten to punch the card. (Or maybe I had glued the chads back in the holes.) With someone like that, my only recourse was to cease delivery, refuse service.

I had much more luck collecting from the wives. There were some exceptions, but most had scruples about taking advantage of children.

One lady I won’t name had me pick up a carton of Pall Malls at Isaly’s on collection day. She always gave me a dime for my trouble and let me look at her tropical fish tanks while she scrounged for the cigarette money.

People would see me lugging the Pall Malls and ask me when I was going to switch to a filtered brand.

Once in a while a customer would pay me with the pennies he had emptied from his pockets and collected in a mason jar. He didn’t like to carry small change but it was OK to pay the paperboy by the pound.

We've got to keep those pennies in circulation.

I carried the papers in a standard canvas newsboy bag with the Post-Gazette logo. Fifty papers were pretty heavy for a twelve-year-old. The shoulder strap bit into my clavicle. I had to walk with my weight shifted to the side away from the sack with one hand underneath the bag to give it support. I didn’t start up the steep Byersdale hillside until I had lightened the load by first delivering to customers on the bottom streets.

The Sunday papers were even heavier. Mr. McBroom didn’t have enough space in his station wagon for all of them so he delivered the “funnies” and the weekly magazines and supplements Saturday night. The rest of the sections came Sunday morning.

I had to sit and put together the two sections before delivery. One of my brothers helped with the Sunday delivery until I got older and stronger.

I found that most of the dogs in Byersdale had some private resentment against the exercise of a free press. With them I was about as popular as the mailman. You had to watch out for those little terriers that came out of nowhere when a customer opened the door.

“He didn’t bite you, did he? He never bites.  Ronnie, get back inside … That will only hurt for a little while.”

Way back of the hill was Short Street, the last street before you came to the woods. Short Street was notable for the smell of raw sewage and the large hound that was tied in one of the yards. Every delivery to that neighborhood was an assault on my nose and ears. There he was – the “Hound of the Baskervilles”, baying himself hoarse and straining at his chain. 

All that stood between me and death by dog bite was a frail ribbon of rope. I walked a little faster.

Neither snow, sleet, rain nor hail kept me from my appointed rounds. A new snow was fresh and lovely at six o’clock in the morning. The other stuff I was not so keen on. A downpour could strike pretty suddenly.

There were newly-weds starting out in a small house on Essex Avenue. The Mrs. was quite pretty – I was beginning to appreciate that sort of thing. I arrived at the door in a thunderstorm, wet to the bone, to collect.

“Look at you, you’re soaked - where’s your umbrella?”

She invited me in and gave me some towels to dry off. I protested that I would get her sofa all wet but she insisted that I sit down while she made me a cup of hot tea.

Her husband and I chatted a bit. The tea was ready. We all had a cup while we talked about where I lived and went to school.

The rain had slackened, but they loaned me an umbrella to carry, just in case. Off I went.

I can’t remember their names but I do remember that act of kindness, over fifty years later.

Was it worth my while to deliver the newspaper? I had to miss out on several camping trips when I couldn’t get someone to take my route for me. I had to go to bed early and wake up early. I had to work about twelve hours per week. I made just over thirty cents an hour ($2.40 today).

On the other hand, I had money to buy clothes and snacks and presents on Christmas. That was better than nothing.

There was a sort of tacit agreement in our house. Dad would feed us and keep a roof over our heads but we had to do our share. He never gave us a nickel to spend. I always thought he was free of guile but now I see a man with a plan. If his purpose was to teach us to stand on our own two feet, he succeeded. 

I never stopped to weigh the pros and cons and reason it all out – mostly I did it because my brothers did it, it was expected of me, and it was a good feeling to have a little money to jingle in my pocket.

On collection day, I often stopped at the little grocery at the top of Anthony Wayne Drive and plunked down my own coin for a dime bag of Snyder’s potato chips and a bottle of ginger beer. I sat on Mrs. Batch’s wooden steps and sipped and ate and studied the sumac berries that grew on the opposite side of the road. Soon the existential gloom would lift and I would descend the hill toward home. 

After four years, I sold my route for $25.00 to another Byersdale “Bobby”.

I had turned sixteen. I went and got myself a work “permit”. I was old enough to make real money.
_____

* If you need something to lift your own existential gloom, don’t have a beer and chips – listen to Jimmy Dale Gilmore’s version of “Jimmy Brown the Newsboy”. It has enough bounce to levitate you up near the ceiling. I couldn’t find it on YouTube but there are other versions of the song there. (The Flatt and Scruggs version is disappointingly slow.)

Turn up the volume. If it turns out you just can’t stand bluegrass, you may have to try a different color.

Highland School Juke Box 1962

Microsoft Word

by Robert Giles

When the weather was too bad to go out on the playground, we had recess in the gymnasium. The gymnasium in the old building was a basketball court. Along one length of the court were metal fold-away risers or "bleachers". Opposite the risers on the other side of the court was a stage shrouded by a heavy red velvet curtain.

The curtain was kept closed unless there was a movie. Sometimes we would watch a travelogue. But most of the time, a couple boys would be delegated to wheel out the juke box and play records for us to dance and listen to.

In 1962 I was in the 7th grade. If you are thinking that most of the dancers were  girls, you are right. The boys mostly milled around and talked or flipped baseball cards or sat on the bleachers and watched.

I was no dancer but I liked music. Still do.

Note: The links below will open shortened versions of the songs in iTunes. Be patient. Its a little clumsy, but allows you to sample and "remember" the songs. Enjoy.

A clarinet tune, "Stranger on the Shore", by Acker Bilk was the Number 1 Billboard Hot 100 hit of 1962. I don't think it was in the Highland School juke box. It was pleasant - I guess it would fall into the "easy listening" category today. Strictly for an older crowd. I don't think "Acker" ever made the Billboard Hot 100 again, but maybe he did. I have nothing against him personally. His parents just handed him a funny name, that's all.

Speaking of funny monikers, clocking in at number 37 was "Alley Cat" by Bent Fabric. I guess the Hot 100 was big enough for both Acker Bilk and Bent Fabric in the same year (for a minute I thought maybe they were the same person - they aren't).

Our juke box did have some other specimens that weren't too hip --

Roses are Red (My Love), Bobby Vinton
Johnny Angel, Shelley Fabares
Soldier Boy, The Shirelles
Breaking Up is Hard to Do, Neil Sedaka

"Johnny Angel" is just the kind of sticky, sugary stuff that girls always wanted to slow dance to. Shelley Fabares should have stuck to The Donna Reed Show.

Neil Sedaka is probably in the rock and roll hall of fame but I wanted to break up this particular record every time I heard it. It wouldn't have been hard to do - just one quick snap over the knee. 

How did the Shirelles get stuck with the "soldier boy" lyric? And Bobby Vinton is from western Pennsylvania, or claims to be. Unbelievable. 

1962 was the year of the dance craze - all these songs made the Hot 100 --

The Loco-Motion, Little Eva
The Twist, Chubby Checker
Slow Twistin', Chubby Checker
Twistin' the Night Away, Sam Cooke
The Wah Watusi, The Orlons
Peppermint Twist, Joey Dee and The Starlighters
Dear Lady Twist, Gary "U.S." Bonds
Twist and Shout, The Isley Brothers
Percolator (Twist), Billy Joe & The Checkmates
Twist, Twist Senora, Gary "U.S." Bonds
Twistin' Matilda (And the Channel), Jimmy Soul
Gravy (For My Mashed Potatoes), Dee Dee Sharp
Soul Twist, King Curtis
Let's Dance, Chris Montez

I have to say that to market a hit record in 1962, all you had to do was add the word "twist" to the song title. 

Billy Joe & the Checkmates relied on a cheesy percolator noise for their only hit ever - "Percolator (Twist)". It wasn't enough to have it sound like a coffee pot - adding the word "Twist" sealed it.

"Soul Twist" by King Curtis is probably the most fraudulent use ever of the word "twist" in a song title.

The best crazy dance song of 1962 - I have to agree with the public on this one - was "The Loco-Motion" by Little Eva. "Twist and Shout" by the Isley Brothers is a close second. The original Chubby Checker hit "The Twist" is also good as is Sam Cooke's "Twistin' the Night Away".

"Twist, Twist Senora" was originally recorded by Harry Belafonte under the title "Shake, Shake, Senora" (a wonderfully comic addition to the "Beetlejuice" soundtrack). The Gary U.S. Bonds version does clinch my argument about adding "twist" to a song title.

Dee Dee Sharp had a hit with "Mashed Potato Time" in 1961. In 1962 she came back with "Gravy (For My Mashed Potatoes)". Lame. I blame the record company.

So , what are my personal favorites from 1962?

Let Me In, The Sensations
The Loco-Motion, Little Eva
Green Onions, Booker T and The MG's
I Can't Stop Loving You, Ray Charles
Duke of Earl, Gene Chandler
Break It to Me Gently, Brenda Lee
Playboy, The Marvelettes
Twist and Shout, The Isley Brothers
I Know (You Don't Love Me No More), Barbara George
Baby It's You, The Shirelles
What's Your Name, Don & Juan
You Don't Know Me, Ray Charles
Dream Baby (How Long Must I Dream), Roy Orbison
Things, Bobby Darin
Let's Dance, Chris Montez
You'll Lose a Good Thing, Barbara Lynn
I'm Blue (The Gong-Gong Song), The Ikettes
If I Had a Hammer, Peter, Paul & Mary
Where Have All The Flowers Gone, The Kingston Trio
Surfin' Safari, The Beach Boys

It's surprising that there were so many gems on the Hot 100. There were a lot of clunkers as well.

• Instrumentals were still popular.
• A large number of songs were from the R&B genre.
• "Girl Groups" and female solo artists were well represented.
• Peter, Paul & Mary scored their first hit that year with "If I Had a Hammer".
• The Beach Boys introduced a new craze in 1962 - surf music.
• Did you know that "The Loco-Motion" was written by Carole King and her (then) husband Gerry Goffin and that Little Eva was their babysitter.

The very next year (1963) marks the beginning of The British Invasion.

It's in the Book

by Robert Giles

This remembrance is about Baden. It may be out of place here in "Ambridge Memories". I hope you will overlook that and read on.

As a child, I went to the Baden Methodist Church. That is where I was baptized, attended Sunday School, was confirmed, took communion, and joined the Youth Fellowship (MYF).

Two of my brothers met their wives and were married there, as was my older sister. A minister of the Baden Methodist Church officiated at the funeral services for my father and mother.

When I saw a picture of the old church recently on Facebook, it aroused many memories.

My brother Chuck has many gifts, among them a gift for comedy. He was in the class play at Highland School, where he played one of three suitors.

He was the reticent, bumbling suitor. His thin hair was parted in the middle and slicked down on the sides. He wore a dark baggy suit. He spoke in a high reedy voice. He was nearsighted. You get the picture.

Chuck was a ninth-grader. I was in sixth. Our class went to see the play. I laughed with everyone else when Chuck courted his lady love. He, breathlessly - "Yes, yes, yes." She, turning away - "No, no, no."

When the play was over, my classmates all remarked about how funny Chuck had been. I was so proud to be his brother.

A year or so later, Chuck had wowed them again.

The MYF was putting on a variety show to raise funds. Most of the acts were pantomimes of popular songs. It was amateurish to be sure, but so much fun. That was my sister and brothers up there on stage. Weren't they brave, and talented?

Linda and Jim performed "The Little Nash Rambler" with a few of their friends. They all pretended to be riding in a cardboard automobile. "Beep, beep. Beep, beep, his horn went beep, beep, beep."

The best was saved for last - Chuck.

An assistant started a phonograph as he shambled up to the pulpit, in the guise of an old time minister of the Gospel. He started with a sermon on "Little Bo Peep" and ended with the congregation singing an enthusiastic "Grandma's Lye Soap". (Members of the MYF sat in the background, playing the part of the congregation.)

Our pastor and his congregation didn't mind Chuck's satire. In fact he did a reprise of his act, by special request, for the Methodist Men.

Years later, in Trigonometry class, the teacher answered a question from a student, then thumped the text and surprised everyone by exclaiming, "It's in the Book." The teacher gave me a wink as if to say, "We know where that comes from, don't we Bob?"

Just this morning, I learned for the first time that Johnny Standley's comedy record was number one on "Billboard" in 1952, selling two million copies. You can hear it on Johnny Standley "It's in the Book".

It's more than a little cornball, but I hope you will enjoy it and have a few laughs with my brother and me.