Golden Girl
Joining us for this installment of Bridgeton Legends is my grandmother, Janet. I want to get one thing straight: the story she WROTE pales in comparison to the ones she casually told Erin and I when we stopped by the other day, and I'm hoping that with enough encouragement she'll write them all down, sign over the rights and make me a millionaire. I mean it. They're that good.
For instance, she told us about horseback riding as a young woman with a group of her girlfriends through the streets and trails of Bridgeton; about being runner up in the Miss Bridgeton contest (I want to know who the hell won); about her house burning down in the late 1950s and how she raced into one room to save her infant son Dan and then into another room to save her red chinchilla coat which she had recently purchased (on sale) somewhere downtown for fifteen dollars, and how after running outside to safety she sent a guy named Ed Burnight back into the inferno to grab her "important papers"; and finally, she told me about a man stalking the streets of Bridgeton with a gun, searching for my grandfather shortly after he and my Nannan were married.
Her name is Janet McCormick, and those were the stories she didn't write.
This is the one she did…
The year was 1940.
How well I remember beautiful Bridgeton, New Jersey when my parents and four siblings moved here from Millville.
I was the oldest child and worked as a telephone operator for Ma Bell where I made many new friends.
I remember J.C. Penney's and Zambone's department stores. Each store had a cable which ran up to a cashier's cage where the sale was finalized. Zambone's even had an elevator.
The Sweet Shop was our favorite place with cherry and vanilla cokes, hamburgers and milkshakes while the restaurant owned by the Galanos family was always crowded. Jimmy Galanos was often our waiter but he moved on and became a famous dress designer in California.
Although I have other memories that were so nice I will mention briefly only a few more---Saturday nights downtown when stores were open, throngs of people walking and visiting. And oh! Christmas season when everyone you met would say "Merry Christmas!" and you would reply "Happy New Year!"
Doors left unlocked, bread and milk deliveries.
What a nostalgic feeling.
E-mail stories to getaholdofkyle@yahoo.com
For instance, she told us about horseback riding as a young woman with a group of her girlfriends through the streets and trails of Bridgeton; about being runner up in the Miss Bridgeton contest (I want to know who the hell won); about her house burning down in the late 1950s and how she raced into one room to save her infant son Dan and then into another room to save her red chinchilla coat which she had recently purchased (on sale) somewhere downtown for fifteen dollars, and how after running outside to safety she sent a guy named Ed Burnight back into the inferno to grab her "important papers"; and finally, she told me about a man stalking the streets of Bridgeton with a gun, searching for my grandfather shortly after he and my Nannan were married.
Her name is Janet McCormick, and those were the stories she didn't write.
This is the one she did…
The year was 1940.
How well I remember beautiful Bridgeton, New Jersey when my parents and four siblings moved here from Millville.
I was the oldest child and worked as a telephone operator for Ma Bell where I made many new friends.
I remember J.C. Penney's and Zambone's department stores. Each store had a cable which ran up to a cashier's cage where the sale was finalized. Zambone's even had an elevator.
The Sweet Shop was our favorite place with cherry and vanilla cokes, hamburgers and milkshakes while the restaurant owned by the Galanos family was always crowded. Jimmy Galanos was often our waiter but he moved on and became a famous dress designer in California.
Although I have other memories that were so nice I will mention briefly only a few more---Saturday nights downtown when stores were open, throngs of people walking and visiting. And oh! Christmas season when everyone you met would say "Merry Christmas!" and you would reply "Happy New Year!"
Doors left unlocked, bread and milk deliveries.
What a nostalgic feeling.
E-mail stories to getaholdofkyle@yahoo.com