OUR NEIGHBORHOOD The Way It Was.......

This vintage image of students at St. Matthias School in Ridgewood continues to draw responses from readers. This week, Dorothy Hurd (nee Schoenmuller) reports that the photo was taken in 1938. She is pictured in the third row, third from left. For whatever reason, some items from readers draw a greater response than others after they appear in the “Our Neighborhood” column.

In recent months, we have heard from readers regarding the many bake shops that once operated locally on both sides of the Brooklyn/Queens border.

This week, we have a more specific subject—photos of students who were the graduating class of June 1941 at St. Matthias School in Ridgewood—is continuing to generate replies.

The pictures had been submitted by Peggy O’Kane, a longtime resident of our neighborhood, whose late husband Harry was a member of the class. Originally, they appeared in the May 14, 2009 issue.

The apostrophe is missing, but seeing the name on this coffee mug might get former customers to thinking of a different kind of drink, which Nedick’s made popular. (photo: Bill Mitchell) Regular readers will recall that in last week’s issue, we presented Mrs. O’Kane’s excellent remembrances of the ritual of washing clothes, back before the washing machine was common as a household appliance.

As for the St. Matthias photos, the first to respond was a member of the class, Clara Loesch (nee Miklasz).

The latest letter is from Dorothy Hurd (nee Schoenmuller) of West Islip, L.I., a former resident of our neighborhood.

She writes: “I’m writing in regards to the May 14 article my brother Bill sent me.

“The article was written by Peggy O’Kane regarding two St. Matthias grade pictures. I am also a former classmate of her late husband Harry, as was Clara Miklasz, who also responded.

“The 5A class picture (which she didn’t know was Harry’s) was taken in 1938.

“The girl Peggy thought might have been her sister-in-law (in the third row, third on the left) is actually me.

“In Clara’s letter, she talked about the bakery on Woodward Avenue, where some of the students went to eat lunch. My brother and I, like most, went home to eat as we had one hour. On some occasions, when our mother was not going to be home, we ate at the bakery. In later years, when we were in the higher grades, we would go to Nedick’s on Myrtle Avenue.

“Who in those days could forget Charlie the pretzel man? He was there every day at lunchtime and after every Mass on Sundays. What a treat it was to bring a bag full of pretzels home every Sunday. In those days, they were a penny each.

“After graduation, I, too, lost contact with most of our classmates. Some had gone on to Catholic high school and as Clara did, the majority went to Richmond Hill High School. There was only four of us— Margaret Berry, Theresa Schmitt, Joseph Koblack and myself—who went to Grover Cleveland High School.

“Cleveland was very crowded at that time, so they sent some of us to P.S. 71 for a term. We attended classes on the top floor, where we stayed the whole day, even eating lunch in our classroom. We didn’t mingle with the grammar school children. Grover Cleveland also had an annex on Central Avenue, which my husband went to in 1943.

“Margaret and I would walk together every day to Cleveland. Theresa lived in a different section of Ridgewood, so we would see her then in school. After graduating in June 1945, Theresa and I both got a job in Travelers Insurance Co., then on John Street in Manhattan. We then met each other on the train to go to work every day.

“We both got married in 1947 and became pregnant with out first child in 1948. We had to leave Travelers then, because you could not work in the office in those days if you were pregnant.

“We both moved to Long Island in 1952. We lived 10 minutes away from each other—my family in West Babylon and hers in Lindenhurst. Since neither of us drove, we kept in touch by cards.

“Theresa passed away a few years ago and Joseph did, too. I stopped receiving cards from Margaret a long time ago—I don’t know if she is still alive. I am very thankful that I’m still here at the ripe on age of 82 on Aug. 1.

“I will be going to the 100-year anniversary dinner for St. Matthias School on Oct. 4. I will be bringing the two school pictures, our eighth grade autograph book, my First Holy Communion prayer book and the Missal we had to carry when we made our Confirmation in 1938. I also have some holy cards that the nuns used to give us.

“I’m hoping some of my old classmates will be there and some of my old friends from Woodbine Street.

“I lived at 1880 Gates Ave. in a four-family house owned by my uncle (Adolph Zoeller), but hung out on Woodbine and Onderdonk, where my husband lived as did my best friend, Ruth Wipf. Ruth and I married twins (Russell and Walter) in 1947. They have been my inlaws for 62 years now. My husband passed away in 1978.

“If anybody knows where any of my old friends—Buddy Robertson, Vinny Konchan, Danny O’Keeffe, Lillian Gossar, the George Zoeller family (Mom’s cousin) and the Frank Albert family (Dad’s cousin), I sure would like to hear from them.

“Don’t be alarmed if you see people taking pictures at 1880 Gates Ave., where I was raised; at 1877 Woodbine St., where my husband lived; and 1886 Woodbine St., where my husband and I had our first apartment, where our first three children were born.”

Old Timer’s note—We thank Mrs. Hurd for her submission and hope that she enjoyed her birthday, while wishing many more.

We also thank her brother Bill for providing the impetus that spurred Mrs. Hurd to write.

If any of the old friends mentioned by Mrs. Hurd wish to contact her, they can do so by sending the message to us (see information at the end of this column) and we will forward to her.

As previously noted, the St. Matthias School Alumni Association will hold a gala celebration in honor of the school’s centennial on Oct. 4, 2009—the 100th anniversary to the day of the school’s opening.

The alumni association would like to hear from anyone with memories, photos or memorabilia that they can share regarding St. Matthias School.

For more information, write to the St. Matthias School Alumni Association at 58-15 Catalpa Ave., Ridgewood, N.Y. 11385 or via e-mail at alumni@stmatthiaschool.org.

In her letter, Mrs. Hurd mentions Nedick’s and we wonder how many of our readers recall the eatery chain.

Back when the fast-food choices were far more limited than they are today, Nedick’s was a popular choice for people on the go.

The Nedick’s logo showed a fellow in a green uniform, with a large orange head—only fitting, since Nedick’s was best known for its orange drink.

Coffee was also sold and the Old Timer still has a coffee mug from one of the Nedick’s restaurants.

As for food, the meal of choice was a Nedick’s hot dog, fresh from the grill. We recall that the chain’s hot dogs were a bit thicker than most. But what really separated the Nedick’s hot dog from others was its bun—top sliced and toasted.

The Old Timer remembers one Nedick’s location in particular—on the mezzanine level of the Roosevelt Avenue-74th Street train station in Jackson Heights, on the level between the underground subway platforms and the elevated No. 7 line.

Nedick’s eateries did a fast-paced business and, as such, were ideal spots for commuters. The one at the Roosevelt Avenue-74th Street station was always busy, but one day there seemed to be a bit of gawking to go with the usual hubbub.

Suddenly, the Old Timer saw why: Guardian Angels founder Curtis Sliwa and his then-wife, Lisa, were at the counter along with commuters, munching on hot dogs. Wearing the red beret and uniform associated with their civilian patrol, the Sliwas stuck out in a crowd. But they might have attracted attention, even without the berets. Curtis’ face was already well-known to the general public and Lisa, a tall young woman and former model, was strikingly attractive in person. It amounted to the sighting of a celebrity couple.

They have since divorced. In the years since that day at Nedick’s, Curtis Slwa has become a fixture on New York radio and Lisa Evers has blossomed as a fine reporter on TV and radio.

As for Nedick’s, we recall that an orange-flavored soda bottled with the Nedick’s brand was available in stores.

We are reminded, too, of the words of the late Marty Glickman, when he was the voice of the New York Knicks. Mr. Glickman had a way of tying the game action to a sponsor. Just as Yankees announcer Mel Allen would call a home run a “Ballantine blast,” Marty Glickman would declare a basket by one of the Knicks to be “Good—like Nedick’s!”

During the 1960s, it was a popular joke among high school students to claim that for their prom, they would be going to “the Orange Room”—meaning Nedick’s.

We believe that Nedick’s faded from the scene in the early 1980s, although the brand was revived a few years ago with the opening of a Nedick’s store at Penn Station.

We are uncertain whether any remain in operation today.

If you have any remembrances, comments or reunion announcements that you would like to share with our readers, write to the Old Timer, c/o Times Newsweekly, P.O. Box 860299, Ridgewood, NY 11386- 0299.

To send a submission via e-mail, our e-mail address is Old Timer@timesnewsweekly.com.