1953 Northside School: Mr. Hugh Marassa's fifth grade class

Click on photo to enlarge


Foreground: Sharon Dumas

1st full row: Joan Allibone, Jean Hurley, x, Beth Cummings

2nd row: Cathie Pantano, Lorraine Troiano, Theda Minkin, Chris Wilkens

3rd row: x, Noel Heinisch, Pat Lucio, Sherry Kruger

4th (last) row: x, x, x, Marjorie Fisher

Standing: Gerald Benima, Cliff Fromm, Ken Porter, Jerry Cohen, Rich
Ostrowski, x, Bob Castro, Steve Mohr, Louie Lopez, Ken Hollwedel, x

Teacher: Mr. Hugh Marassa

According to Beth Cummings, " Ken Hollwedel lived on Kingfisher Lane, diagonally across from the late Neal Manley (172 Kingfisher). Ken's dad was in the Air Force stationed at Thule AFB in Greenland. When he finished his tour in Greenland he had 18 years in and was allowed to choose his last duty station for his remaining two years. He chose Hawaii and Ken never got to the seventh grade in Levittown and didn't attend Division Avenue High School with us."

Seven years later, at least 11 members of this group were in Division Avenue High School's first graduating class. Help is needed to identify the six students marked with an x.

Photo courtesy of Steve Mohr

Jim Ayres has led a life in full; he has taught, coached, was an MP in the Army, belongs to the Ancient Order of Blue Dragons

A daring Jim Ayres on a winter day in his Audi convertible

A comment was posted on the blog concerning a wonderful story written by Jack Jacobsen, class of 1962, that appeared on March 19. Jim Ayres, Division Avenue High School class of 1963, had submitted the following:

"All the time you spent over at my house next to Don Kanarvogel's playing APBA baseball, stinking up the house with smoke (and getting me in trouble for it), eating my food, playing stickball on Gun Lane, and I didn't get a mention as a friend? What's up with that? ... lol. Lost track of you after the Navy --I went into the Army as a Lieutenant in the Military Police and spent a year in Nam. Email one time, buddy (gave his address) -- like to catch up. Jim Ayres Class of '63."

I wrote to Ayers and included Jacobsen's email address. In my note, it was mentioned that my buddies in Levittown and I had an APBA board game baseball league in the late 1950s. Ayres replied with the following:

By Jim Ayres, class of 1963
My, that was a fast response. Was having lunch the other day with Louie DeFrancesco, Tom Conway, Paul Flechner (all '64 grads from DAHS) and Armand Tarentelli (Mr. T from woodshop) and your blog came up. We are all part of a group of Division grads and athletes who call ourselves the AOBD (Ancient Order of the Blue Dragons) with emphasis on the ancient part.

We were chatting about people we remembered from school and I brought up Jack Jacobsen's name. He spent lots of time lounging around my house (next to his buddy Donny Kanarvogel's) and we got waaaayy into APBA baseball. Jack and I even constructed our own cards using a version of their formula, which was not too hard to figure out and to shape in such a way that Jack and I became the two best hitters in the National League ... lol ... though we seldom used those two cards.

Yes, we had a draft, kept stats, but never got too "artsy." I recall Jack had terrific handwriting when he put his mind to it and so he became our statistician. He used to smoke (cigarettes, of course -- pot was unthinkable in our crowd back then) quite a bit as we played, and in fact got me into it, hence the "smoke in the house" comment. Think I played APBA a few times at Tim Lavey's (class of 1963).

Like you, many of the AOBD guys also have a Hofstra connection, as do I (Class of '68 -- I was red-shirted one year ... lol). You wrote for the Hofstra Chronicle I think, did you not? Sorry was in a hurry this afternoon to find the Jacobsen piece they told me about and did not read your bio, though I know it's there.)

If you are interested I could get you the names and email addresses of some of our attendees for your blog mailing list; some regulars, some "guests," so to speak who stop in from out of town or still work (most of us don't) and can't make many of the luncheons. One of our regulars is Bob Ellerkamp from my class, whose brother Jack was in your class (1960).

I only work part-time as a public address announcer for East Rockaway High School, for which I coached four different sports and wound up in their Coaching Hall of Fame, so I have the time to follow it.

The big benefit of my coaching stint has been the announcing gig for football, basketball and, on occasion, volleyball and soccer. Also coached and announced at Molloy College in Rockville Centre, and have announced three times at Madison Square Garden (what a fabulous sound system -- could make Mickey Mouse sound great).

I am working slowly on my second novel (the first went "unloved" by the publishing industry), and recording CDs (oldies, of course) for an R & R hobby band (sing lead and bass backup on separate tracks) and those don't take much time either. Trying hard not to age (losing battle there), and to not look or feel my 65 years. Enclosing a recent picture -- always wanted to drive top-down in the snow, but not for long ... brrrr .

Thanks for putting me on the mailing list for your blog. I shall be a frequent visitor.

Division Avenue High School's very first football team, the 1956 freshman squad coached by Al Tarney

Click on photo to enlarge

Back row: assistant coach Jimmy Amen, Tom Dubose, Richie Glaski, Arnie Mark, Phil Adrian, Eddie Fink, x, Art Dorrmann, George Fox, Mike Prusack

Middle row: Bruce Garabrant, Ben Stark, Jim Beebe, Lefty Carlo, Ray Wenz, x, Tom Young, x, John Koehler

Front row: Stephen Lilienthal, Mal Karman, Jack Ellerkamp, Don Davidson, Howie Burtt, Terry Tobey, Tom Marchlevski, Kenny Ganim, Perry Bernstein, and Bob Castro.

By Frank Barning

This historic photo is of Division Avenue High School's very first football team. Art Dorrmann, class of 1960, was on the team and provided the photo. The year was 1956 and the high school had just opened, so this was a group of freshmen. The first varsity season was a year later.

According to Dorrmann, who lives in Glens Falls, N.Y. "The head coach was a man I admired immensely, Al Tarney, who had been a Marine colonel in the Pacific." When the team became a varsity in 1957, Tarney was still the coach, but in 1958 was replaced by Jerry Jewell who was the chief for more than a decade.

Concerning this vintage photo, Bob Castro wrote: "As a freshman, I was 5'2" and 116 lbs. Not impressive stats for a potential lineman. But, it was big enough to be a manager and haul around footballs and equipment." Bob had a growth spurt following the football season and was big enough to play on Division Avenue's first varsity football team.

A year behind the young men in the photo was John Kinstrey, who became a varsity football player a couple of years later and graduated in 1961. "We were still wearing those leather helmets in 1960. Can you believe it?" And check out the primitive face masks, too.

I was the sports editor of the student newspaper, "The Flame". The nickname for our teams was the Blue Dragons and a flame supposedly came out of a dragon's mouth. So much for a history lesson.

My most vivid memory of this team was the quarterback, Terry Tobey, who wore uniform No 1. From looking at the photo you can see that he is the smallest player. Terry was so small that he had trouble passing because he couldn't see over the offensive linemen. Along with a handful of others on the team, he transferred to Levittown Memorial High School before the next season where he continued to play football. Some people thought his name was Tobey Terry.

Probably the best players on the squad were running back John Koehler and linebacker Kenny "Tiger" Ganim. Both became all-league players when the team became a varsity. The other starting running back was Tom Young who transferred to Roslyn High School two years later. Koehler and Young went on to play college football, Koehler at Kings Point and Young at the University of Toledo.

There are three players in the photo that we cannot identify. Maybe a reader can help.
______________________________________________________

Photo courtesy of Art Dorrmann

Do you still have your high school yearbook? If not, what happened to it?

If you still have your class yearbook, how often do you look at it and what do you find most interesting? If you no longer have your yearbook, what happened to it?

Jack Jacobsen, class of 1962
In recent times I have been looking at it twice a year. I first wonder where the time went, secondly, I wonder how Mrs. O'Keefe talked Jon Dubeau, Don Kanarvogel and me into participating in our senior play as angels and is captured in Class of '62 yearbook. I look at the pictures, attach "one-liners" to each name. Also, the word "beer" is used by many of the signees.

Arnie Galeota, class of 1961
I still have my class of 1961 yearbook but it's falling apart. After all I've moved so much and it always moves with me. I take it out once or twice a year, usually when I'm either packing or unpacking or if a name comes up on one of your blogs that I want to see the picture of. I'm only sorry I never bought the years 1960 and 1962. I knew so many people from those classes.

What's most interesting in the yearbook is how much I still look like my photo and everyone else doesn't look like theirs...just kidding. I find it interesting what some of the students showed an interest in and what they actually did in life after school.

June Johnson, class of 1963
I still have the 1963 yearbook. I haven't looked at it since last year when I went to the 50th reunion with Michelle Fromm-Lewis. I think we looked at it as a reference more than anything else. What I find interesting is that I had entered "Fencing" as an activity under my name and no one ever questioned the entry. I made it up. There was never a fencing club.

Len Sandok, class of 1963
I still have my yearbook and its life has been resurrected in the past two or three years. I took it to college with me and occasionally I would look at it in my dorm room when I got a little homesick. Soon, however, it was relegated to the bottom of a closet somewhere until I got married. It moved with all of my stuff and was once again put in a closet or an end table at our houses throughout the years.

It surfaced about two years ago when I discovered Facebook. I reconnected with a number of high school acquaintances and of course, I had to compare yearbook pictures with profile photos. It now has a place of honor immediately to the left of my computer and I refer to it on a regular basis. My kids and grandchildren get a chuckle when they see my flat top hair cut. I consider it to be the most valuable book in my collection.

Mike O'Boyle, class of 1960
Lost in hurricane Ike, September 2008 (still remember the misspelling of school as shhool on the inside front cover, maybe inside back cover), and the pioneer theme.

Marilyn Monsrud Frese, class of 1963
Almost daily- and what I find interesting is what Frank is going to do with the photos he's requesting for me to scan.

Pat Stanley Share, class of 1962
I have mine, class of 1962 and my brother's class of 1960. Because of FB and your blog I look at it frequently now. I brought it to the Keys mini-reunion and we all shared stories over the books. Unfortunately I have begun to add the dreaded D next to too many of our class mates.

Susan Weldon, class of 1960
I do still have my yearbook and I look at it occasionally when one of your blog entries triggers a memory.

Daria Marusevich, class of 1961
I look at both 60 and 61 at least 8-10 times a year. I think of the classes 60 & 61 as one. Your blog has inspired me to go to the "book" to check out the faces more often than I would have in the past.

Kathy Stahlman Zinn, class of 1963
I have only the 1961 yearbook, from my sophomore year, because after that year we moved to Plainedge. It is filled with "Goodbyes", and I am so glad I kept it. I especially look at senior class pictures and teachers. But lately, I also look at the letters from the administrators. They mean much more now than they did at age 15.

Larry Loewy, class of 1975
I have looked at my yearbook about five times a week since last summer. Why? Because I am scanning the whole thing into Facebook.

Larry Bory, class of 1960
A few times a year, mostly to verify things that Frank raises in the blog.

1952 Northside School: Mr. Langan's fourth grade class

Click on photo to make it larger

Front row: Ray Wenz, Jim Tucker, Ann Hoffman
Second row: x. Maryann McNally, Cliff Fromm, Sharon Dumas
Third row: Sharon Kivowitz, Margaret O'Pray, Ken Hollwedel, Beth Cummings
Forth row: Connie Drakos, Jeanne Hurley, Bob Castro, Pat Moore
Fifth row: Margery Fisher, x, Jerry Bonima, Sherry Kruger
Back row, standing: x, Jerry Cohen, Louie Lopez, Bruce Garabrant

Also in the photo are Billie Jean Divone (in front of Louie Lopez) and Evie Fielding

Thirteen kids is this class graduated from Division Avenue High School in 1960. Sadly, Ray Wenz, Bruce Garabrant and Louie Lopez are no longer with us.

Photo courtesy of Beth Cummings

Bob Cotter led an interesting life as a Levittown kid who hung at the pool, built forts, delivered newspapers, brought home toads

Yesterday I discovered an old Levittowner, Bob Cotter (class of 1964), on Facebook. I remembered that he was my 1960 classmate Phyllis Cotter's kid brother and invited him to be my Facebook friend. I sent him the link to that day's blog post, Tim Lavey's story and photo under the headline, "Early 1950s memories of Orchid Road and the glorious sump." His reply was prompt.

Bob wrote:
My body left DAHS in 1962 for a program at Levittown Memorial, but my soul was always at Division, as we lived around the corner on Butternut. I lived at "the sump", built forts, climbed the power line towers on the Motor Parkway, and played in the unfinished foundation next to Engine Co. 2 firehouse on Hickory Lane. Wild blackberries, raspberries and I brought home lots and lots of toads...my mother loved that! I was a denizen of the Azalea pool.

Frank replied:
Welcome back, Cotter. That was too easy, sorry. Love your memories. Levittown was a wonderland for adventuresome kids. We really did not need much money, at least I didn't.

Bob replied:
Money? Large soda bottles were worth a nickel, small, two cents. With all the construction there was a gold mine of empties...baloney sandwich from the East Green deli was maybe half a buck...I had a 90-paper Newsday route at 13 and lived like a king.

Frank replied:
I loved baloney sandwiches. They were cheap and they were good, and a bag of Wise Potato Chips was the perfect accompaniment. I returned many a soda bottle, was always scrambling for change. The best was shoveling snow, real money, the kind you could fold.

Bob replied:
I mowed lawns for $2 a pop, $2.50 for a corner house and I'm still shoveling snow (Bob lives in Montreal). Memories of registering myself and playing Little League baseball at Redwing field...walking all the way there from Butternut Lane on a hot mid-Island flatlands Saturday...french fries in a brown paper bag from the drug store at the North Green...Walk-away sundaes and malties from Grants...Sorry Frank, but ya got me going.

Frank closed the exchange:
It's amazing how much Levittown "oldtimers" have to chat about. We were strangers to each other until today. Gotta go, Bob. I crave a baloney sandwich and a bag of Wise potato chips. Please pass along my regards to Phyllis. See you on the internet.

Early 1950s memories of Orchid Road and the glorious sump

Click on picture to enlarge it
Tim Lavey calls this photo of him and his brother Mitch, "Building Levittown".

By Tim Lavey, class of 1963

My brother Mitch and I lived at 173 Orchid Road, between Skimmer Lane and Violet Lane (about halfway between Jerusalem Avenue and Newbridge Road). The picture was taken in 1950 or early 1951, behind our house before the sump was built.

You can see an old culvert behind my brother Mitch's head. He graduated from Division Avenue in 1965. The houses in the background are probably those on the southern leg of Blacksmith Road." According to Jeff Peyton, class of 1961 and my childhood friend, "The sump was even with, or just south of the Old Motor Parkway, a place to my young eyes that was filled with wildflowers and Queen Anne's Lace, oversized brown locusts, and toads. I loved that place."

I remember one time a whole bunch of us were hiding out around the culverts in the underbrush playing war games in the early evening just as it got dark. My dad sneaked up on us and shouted to wake the dead. I’ve never been so scared in my life. As he took my brother Mitch and me back to our house, I can remember him lecturing us on properly setting up a perimeter to avoid being surprised by the enemy. Dad passed away in 1995 after a considerable struggle with the effects of Alzheimers. I miss him greatly, of course, and so do all those who knew him.

I also have wonderful memories of days exploring the forbidden tunnels inside the sump. We weren’t supposed to be in the sump much less going into those tunnels, but it seems that almost everyone did it. I forget just how far I crawled under the streets of Levittown exploring the sewer system, but I believe I got pretty far north. I remember being somewhat frightened about not being able to back track to the sump after making too many twists and turns into and through adjacent underground tunnels. It would have been exceedingly embarrassing to have become hopelessly lost and then ignominiously extricated by town authorities.

One more thing comes to mind. I recollect that before the sump was built in the very early 1950s that we had major flooding all along Orchid Road during a heavy rain. I think my dad was out back with other dads doing what they could to stop the water from cascading into our yards and houses. I always thought (incorrectly I’m sure) that the sump was built shortly thereafter because that flooding had occurred. It’s much more likely it was already on the drawing board.

Photo courtesy of Tim Lavey

The 1961-62 Division Avenue High School basketball team

Click on photo to enlarge


Front row: Paul Linder, Tony Pace, George Rosenbaum, Gary Parker, Bill Astman, the late Jimmy Cain

Back row: Coach Jimmie Amen, Bob Spadafore, Pat Hill, John Stalberg, Peter Greene, Richie Ligouri

It is odd that the guys are not in their basketball uniforms. A team picture with the players in school clothes is sort of weird. Some of the flavor is lost.

Source of photo: 1962 yearbook

Northside School, May 1955: Mr. Ouderkirk's sixth grade class

Click on the photo to enlarge

First Row: Wally Linder, Lenny Syden, Jay Miner, Daria Marusevich, Peggy Hessin

Second row: Judy Bowen, Dawn Robie, Karen Hogan, Al Greengold, John Fitzsimmons

Third row: Joan Louison, Clayton Citrano, Billy Rudolph, Jimmy Judson, Kenny Knight,

Forth row: Janice Grubber, Bob Bonacci, Valerie Mascara, Barbara Crenshaw, Arlene Gibson

Fifth row: Laraine Bond, Beth Kramer, unknown, Roya Sitkoff, Elizabeth Mitchell

Putting the caption together, after 55 years, was the result of the brain searching of Daria Marusevich and Wally Linder. Approximately 14 of these kids graduated from Division Avenue High School in 1961. The teacher, Mr. Ouderkirk, certainly had a neat bulletin board. Give him an A.

Photo courtesy of Wally Linder, 1961

Gasoline was less than 30 cents per gallon when many of us starting driving

Question: What was the price per gallon of gasoline when you started driving? If you can remember, what was the year and model of the automobile you first drove?

John Tanner, class of 1960
Gas cost $.19 which in 1958 was the same price of a pack of smokes. It seemed my 1947 Plymouth used as much oil as gas.

David Amster, class of 1963
In 1962 I took my Mom’s 1952 Ford to the station on the corner of Hempstead Turnpike and Jerusalem Avenue, told the guy I was going to drive a long way to Albany to see my girl at college, and asked what should I check on the car. He did a once over, topped off the tank with 25.9 cents a gallon and I was on my way. Yesterday I got gas for a mere $3.45 at Costco and felt it was a good deal.

Bill Stanley, class of 1960
My first car was a two-tone 1953 Mercury. When Bob Bonacci, Bobby Burner, Jimmy Beebe and I drove across the country together, we actually bought gas during, what was called "the gas wars", for 10 cents a gallon.

Walt Linder , class of 1961
I started driving in 1959, when I was 16. On my 16th birthday I was standing at the front door of the Motor Vehicle Bureau in Mineola, when they opened that morning. I had to walk to the Hicksville LIRR station, and ride the train to Mineola. I took driver education from Mr. Peyton, and could drive at night when I was 17.

The gas stations on the corners of Jerusalem Avenue and Hempstead Turnpike had gas for 29 cents a gallon in 1959. They used to have gas wars, and compete for business. My folks' 1954 Chevy used to get gas there all the time. It ('54 Chevy) burned so much oil, I used to buy oil, in bulk, at the Sears store also on the same corner. The oil was on a spigot and came out of the wall.

Howard Whitten, class of 1962
My first car was a 1956, two-tone blue, Chevy Bel Air, the family 'hand-me-down.' I recall the price per gallon was 29.9 cents at the time, and it didn't change all that much right into the early 1970s when it was about 35.9 (in New Jersey). My father always looked for the cheapest gas around and I recall he would usually find it at a small gas station by Meenan Oil on the turnpike down by Island Trees. Couldn't afford insurance and didn't get my license until the spring of my first year of college, 1963.

Karen Biro Hewson, class of 1960
I bought my first car when I was 21, so that was about 1963, not positive, but I think the price of gas was about 23.9. I had a black 1957 Ford Fairlane 500 convertible. I'd love to have it now - but not in the condition it was in then - it ran only on occasion and in the winter I had to warm it up for about 10 minutes before I went anywhere so it wouldn't stall. Ah, the good old days.

Arnie Galeota, class of 1961
I was a late bloomer. I was 18 when I started driving legally, but my first car was a 1957 Pontiac V-8 with a four-barrel carburetor and I was almost 20 when I bought it. Gas was 24.9 I think, not any more than 29.9.

Daria Marusevich, class of 1961
I believe it was 35 cents per gallon in 1965 when I got my license. I lived in the city but I used to drive my father's 1957 Plymouth with push buttons when I came to visit on weekends.

Cliff Fromm, class of 1960
I turned 16 on April 3, 1959 and took my driver's test two weeks later and passed. My parents' friend owned a construction company building one-family homes in Smithtown (and surrounding areas). I worked then and during the previous summers when I was 14 and 15 as a laborer and actually drove the truck, a five-gear standard shift.

By the time I took my driver's test I was an experienced driver (of sorts). To the best of my recollection, I used to gas up when I first got my license at a gas station on Hempstead Turnpike off Jerusalem Avenue and the gas was 26 cents a gallon. I drove my dad's Studebaker.

Susan Weldon, class of 1960
I think the price was 25 cents per gallon. I started driving in 1959. I think the car was a grey Dodge sedan,

Marilyn Monsrud Frese, class of 1963
As far as I can remember, gas was about 28 cents a gallon in 1962. I was driving a 1956 or a 1957 Chevy. Stan Pesner was teaching me how to drive a stick in his 1956 or '57 Chevy, and I loved his car. Thanks Stan- that was so nice of you to teach me in your car. I am still so sorry about grinding your gears. I was happy to get an automatic.

Mark Rotker, class of 1966
My first car was a 1961 Comet that was my brother's before me. Gas was
around 30 cents per gallon and the year was 1967.

Sandy Adams, class of 1960
I remember that the price of gas was 25 cents in 1958 when I got my license. I drove my mother’s peach colored Plymouth with the automatic shift on the dashboard. I didn’t get my own car until a few months after graduation when I got a job at Meadowbrook Bank’s main office in Hempstead – a red & white 1956 Chevy Bel Air.

Michelle Fromm-Lewis, class of 1963
I began driving as soon as I was old enough, which was 16 at the time. I took Driver Ed from Mr. Vandewater, who was also my trig teacher. Our parents had an old Studebaker and a Rambler American which I drove. The Studebaker was both fun and a challenge. Occasionally, when you pressed your foot on the brake the seat would slide back. I would have to hurry and scoot forward to stop the car. Then there was the passenger door which frequently got stuck. I'd have to roll the window down for friends to climb in. I remember putting gas in the cars at 26 cents a gallon.

Frank Barning, class of 1960
The cheapest I remember is Gultane at 24.9 cents per gallon in around 1958 or 1959. I drove a green and white 1955 Mercury with an automatic transmission. My dad, who taught me on a stick, and driver ed teacher Mr. Peyton were patient instructors.

Brenda Baldassare, class of 1960
It was a wow, about 26 cents a gallon, and I actually remember never getting more than a dollar's worth of gas, sometimes only 75 cents if someone coughed up another 25 cents and always at the North Village Green Texaco station. I drove my mother's car, a red and white 1955 Chevy Impala. I got my driver's permit at 16 years old.

My dear father taught me to drive in the Division Avenue Shopping Center on Sundays when all stores were closed so there weren't any cars on the lot. At 17, I got my driver's license and now I was able to drive to the away football games with a crowd of passengers. Most of this insanity occurred in 1959 and then in 1960 when I became a graduate.

Art Dorrmann, class of 1960
I first got my learner's permit in 1958 - but the first time I drove was probably 1955, five years before I graduated from DAHS. My father let me drive our family's '49 Chrysler - it was a tank weighing in at 4650 lbs. After my brief flirtation with the curb became a love affair, he decided someone else would be better suited to teaching me driving skills.

I particularly remember the price of gas because of an incident that took place in the summer of '57. During that summer I went out with a girl from the other side of Levittown (near Levittown Memorial high school) who was about three years older. She had her own car and we used to take drives and park. One evening we ran out of gas - pushed the car into a gas station and pooled our resources to get home - 25 cents was enough for a gallon of gas.

By the end of the summer our romance was over and we never spoke again. She was a sweet girl. After more than 50 years I can't remember her name, but her greatest impact on my life was about five years later. Sadly, I read in the newspaper that she had passed away, at home in her sleep from a cerebral hemorrhage. If anyone has a clue who she was, I'd like to know. I've thought of her many times.

Kathy Stahlman Zinn, class of 1963 .
I started driving in 1966, my fiance's (now husband's) 1966 Rambler Classic. The internet says gas cost an average of 32 cents a gallon. We were in Washington, DC. Does that make a difference?

Dewain Lanfear, class of 1960
In 1965, gas along Hempstead Turnpike was under 30 cents per gallon. That was the year I got my first car, a 1955 Chevy Bel Air. It was in rough shape, but with the help of my dad and uncle, I learned to do a lot of work on that car.

John Kinstrey, class of 1961
I’m sure gas was in the low 20s at the time. When I was going to Southern Connecticut State in 1965 it was 33 cents. But what is indelibly etched in my mind is taking my driver’s test in Mineola with Sue Kalinsky’s mother’s car; a '59 Oldsmobile 88. It was a rocket ship about 25 feet long with huge fins – had to parallel park that beast too.

Early Levittown New York was safeguarded by the Lavey brothers of 173 Orchid Road

Tim Lavey, class of 1963, has a wonderful collection of family photos taken in early Levittown. Here he is with his younger brother Mitch (Division Avenue High School class of 1965) in a picture that he refers to as "Safeguarding Levittown." In those days, unlike today, the houses and trees were small.

Tim wrote: "The picture was taken in my backyard about 1951 or possibly 1952. The historic Old Motor Parkway was behind us. However, they were building a sump on the stretch behind our house at that time. They destroyed part of the Old Motor Parkway in building it. The houses in view behind Mitch and me were on Blacksmith Road. Those to the left in the picture were on Pelican Road. Michelle Fromm's home was just a tad further west on Woodcock along with Dave Amster and Joe Imperato, all from the class of 1963."

If you like seeing this photo, we will post additional vintage shots from the Lavey collection. Please let us know.

Northside School, 1951-52: Mr. Henebry's 4th grade class

click on photo to enlarge

First row: Mike Newton, the late Chris Wilkens

Second row: X, Steve Mohr, Karen Judge, Rich Humbert

Among others in photo: Ken Porter, Joan Allibone, Veda Schneider, Ellen Rees, Tom Paturzo Baker, Richie Ostrowski, the late Steve Zwerling, Lorraine Troiano, Artie Lundquist, Mr. Henebry

Eight years later, 11 of these kids graduated in Division Avenue High School's pioneer class of 1960. Please note the cute dresses worn by the girls and the grown-up looking ties by the boys. There was no dress code because it was not necessary. Early Levittown families had a lot of pride.

Photo courtesy of Steve Mohr

Jack Jacobsen, class of 1962: his memories could fill a book

His Division Avenue High School yearbook photo and a recent one

Where did you live in Levittown, when did you move there and where had you lived before?:

I was kind of fortunate having lived in three sections of Levittown and getting to know so many people. We first moved to Crabtree Lane in 1953. This is where I played ball with many of The Natives...Doug Duffy, Ira Nerzig, Al Williams, Bob Spadafore and John Stahlberg.

Then we moved to Restful Lane where I hung with John Kinstrey, Jimmy Anderson, Ross Patten, Bobby Joyce, Bob Cassidy and Buddy Weston. From there it was off to Ridge Lane where Don Kanarvogel and I did our impression of Mutt and Jeff. We had moved from Brooklyn, good old Flatbush where I had a deep fondness for the Dodgers. Went to many games at Ebbets Field where my neighbor (Gil Hodges) was the star first baseman.

I also made my mark on Troy Avenue by falling out a four-story window, missing a wrought iron picket fence by several inches and landing on a laundry bag in the basement. According to my parents it explained a lot of things.

What were some of your earliest memories of Levittown?:

The first thing I remember was the decorating of the pine tree in the front yard at Christmas time. Everyone had a tree in the front yard and I thought it was very spiritual during the holidays.

The fact that I could play ball on grass was another fond memory. In Brooklyn we played on pavement all the time with bases painted on concrete in the park. Other things that bring great memories were: finding a potato in the lawn, our first dog Pudgy, the concrete block that helped with opening and closing the attic door, our Bendix washing machine, the Dugan and Krug delivery and Joe the ice cream man.

Who were some of your friends?:

In my early years it was mainly the guys I mentioned above, but I also remember the girls: Susan Padgett, Kathy Armstrong, Susan Kilbride and Karen Parbst. The Connelly brothers were always good friends who bailed me out of several predicaments with the rock and rollers.

In junior and senior high school Bobby Henn and I sat next to each other in homeroom and became very good friends and have stayed in touch in recent years. He was also in several of my classes and probably instigated many of my exploits.

Also, John Kinstrey and I were good friends and spent many a day roving around on our bikes with many trips to Carvel in East Meadow. As mentioned before Don Kanarvogel was a good buddy. Paul McCarthy and Cuzzy Delfox were my beer drinking team. And there was Eddie Rotker, Chez, the Hill brothers (Pat and Mike), Carl Thompson, the late Butch Murphy, Skippy McCarthy, Jon DuBeau and Jimmy Silvestri.

You hung with The Natives at the North Village Green. What was that like, who were some of the kids you remember best?:

Before they were known as The Natives we were just kids who loved to play baseball. Many of the games were played at the North Green, but also played on empty lots along Newbridge Road and behind the LILCO building. It was always fun to hit against Bobby Lombardi because he was ambidextrous. He could strike me out from either side! Ken Taylor and Vic Lawson were also regulars.

I moved to Restful Lane and started to play ball at Redwing Field with the guys that went to Northside Elementary ( I went to Summit) so although I still went to junior high with many of The Natives and remained friends with them I found new people and venues to play ball.

Then onto high school where we started hanging out at the North Green and The Natives became well established. We had many great games of football, stickball and the knock rummy games for a nickel were very competitive. So I spent a considerable part of my early life at the North Green and remember the faces and some of the nicknames: can anyone remember who the "Moose" was or who the "Animal" was?

Tell us about any teachers you really enjoyed?:

Well my most enjoyable educator was Mr. Aiello. He was my phys. ed. teacher in elementary school and became my "discipline" coach in high school. In my senior year he gave me a library pass for all classes when it appeared I would be a disturbance in class which usually was math since I had a very poor relationship with Mr. Simes.

Other teachers who left a positive impression on me were Mr. Reggio (good bye Jake), Mr. Lasker and Mr. Graham. I also had the support of Mr. DiMaggio and Mr. Amen who never forgave me for quitting basketball in my sophomore year. I just couldn't get along with the JV coach.

A highlight of your high school years?:

Highlight was graduating. Not many people know this but I received a Regent's scholarship, but principal James Reilly refused to announce it to the public because I did not rat on my fellow classmates when we cut school and went to Jones Beach. I got caught hitch hiking on Wantagh State Parkway along with a couple of others. Mr. Reilly also thought I had something to do with the infamous "piano" incident, but I did not. So graduating was a highlight, but I will say that DAHS was a very enjoyable experience for me. I had a lot of fun.

What did you do immediately after high school?:

Realizing I lacked discipline in my life I decided to join the Navy. Originally I was going to join the Marines like by friend John Kinstrey, but my father did not think it was a good path for me. So off I went to Great Lakes, then to Pensacola for communications school where upon graduation they wanted me to extend and go to Monterey for language school. I decided that two years of French with Miss McGuigan was enough language for a lifetime and ended-up in Washington DC stationed at the Naval Security Group and the Pentagon. Played basketball for the Potomac River Command so I had it pretty well knocked.

What were some jobs you had?:

Upon leaving the Navy I worked for Pergament's and LILCO. Then I got recruited from several Agencies. I spent 35 years with the "No Such Agency." It was a very exciting career and never a dull day in my life. NSA was a very excellent place to work and during my path I graduated from the University of Maryland and the Armed Forces Staff College. I retired in 1998 as an executive.

Where do you live now and are you still working?:

I live in Millersville, Md. with my wife of 42 years, Arlene. We have three children (Carrie, Eric and Keith) and five (soon to be six) grandchildren. I still work as a consultant to the intelligence community for SAIC, but only when it doesn't conflict with golf.

What is something your old schoolmates would be surprised to learn about you?:

I'm not skinny. I'm still 6'4", but tip the scales at 200 lbs. As far as what they would be surprised about is what I can't tell them and what I have done, seen, heard during the past 40 plus years.

Anything you care to add?:

I probably could write a book. Levittown was great and I wouldn't want to relive my life anyplace else.

The 1960-61 Division Avenue High School basketball team

Click on picture to enlarge

Front row: Jimmy Cain, Jerry Reichert, Ernie Villatore, Tony Pace, Bob Spadafore.

Back row: Tom McKeon, Gary Parker, Ross Patten, Frankie Tompkins, Tom Schneider, Stan Pesner, coach Jimmie Amen.

Three-year starter Ernie Villatore was the star of the team, backed up by veteran Gary Parker and a talented newcomer, the late Jimmy Cain.

Source of photo: 1961 Division Avenue High School yearbook.

Mal Karman, Division Avenue High School class of 1960, has built an impressive award-winning career

His 1960 Division Avenue High School yearbook photo and a recent shot

Mal Karman won a National Academy of Television Arts & Sciences (Emmy) Award, the Paul Newman-Joanne Woodward Scott Newman Award and a Silver Medal at the New York International Film Festival for the script of “Wasted: A True Story,” a prime-time TV special on drug abuse prevention that received a laudatory editorial from the Washington Post.

He has worked numerous times as a script doctor for Oscar-winning producer Saul Zaentz (including “Three Warriors” “At Play in the Fields of the Lord” and “D.O.A.”), penned the sequel to the animated “Lord of the Rings” for Zaentz, and co-wrote "Shooting Stars" in Paris with Oscar-winning screenwriter Jean-Claude Carriere.

At the New Conservatory Theater in San Francisco, Karman directed his comic drama, “The Bones of Simon Bottle,” which ran for eight weeks, and for which he was awarded a Marin Arts Council playwriting grant.

As a book author, he wrote the political thriller “The Foxbat Spiral” (now in its second printing) and the nonfiction “The Poison River,” and is one of the featured writers in “Encounters With the Middle East,” which recently won the prestigious Lowell Thomas Award for Best Book of the Year in category.

Karman has also worked for directors Francis Ford Coppola, Ralph Bakshi, Keith Merrill and Hector Babenco, and for political analyst-TV commentator and author Bill Moyers.

A longtime San Francisco resident, he traveled to Iran for research on a new novel and to shoot footage for a forthcoming documentary. He was editor-director on the documentaries, “Volleyball Nation” and “Heaven in the Headlands,” the latter for the Yosemite National Institutes, and wrote and directed “Etude in Black,” a drama about a young pianist and her conflicting passions.

He is a member of the Writers Guild of America, the Media Workers Guild of Northern California and the Authors Guild.

Awards
• Three individual National Journalism Honor Society writing awards (news, sports, features).
• Paul Newman-Joanne Woodward Scott Newman Drug Abuse Prevention Award.
• California Arts Commission Playwriting Award.
• Academy of Television Arts & Sciences (Emmy) Award.
• Founder/director of International Volleyball Club of San Francisco consisting of hundreds of participants from 31 countries.
• Commendation in 2004 from Terry McAuliffe for providing ideas for Democratic strategy in presidential campaign.
• Edited Tom Steinstra's Pulitzer Prize-winning series on rafting the treacherous Owyhee River.
• Silver Award, New York International Film Festival.
• Diane Thomas Screenwriting Award
________________________________________________

Mal is an avid volleyball player, got his first byline as a teenager and still believes he is 17-years-old. He was the best man at your blogger's wedding in 1968.

Being in the Brownies and Girl Scouts was a great experience, but selling cookies proved to be traumatic for Kathy Stahlman Zinn

Click on pictures to enlarge

By Kathy Stahlman Zinn, 1963

Like many girls in Levittown, I joined scouting at age seven or eight. The Brownie uniform was a little brown dress, belted, with a brown felt beanie. I liked the outfit, and all the other Brownie/Girl Scout stuff - the activities, the badges, the camping and especially the songs. There were so many songs: around the campfire, in meetings - like "Girl Scouts Together" (I still sing it around family campfires) , "Our Chalet", "Day Is Done" ("Taps").

However, there was one aspect of Brownies/Girl Scouts I hated - selling Girl Scout cookies. There is a picture of me (see above) in my little Brownie outfit, smiling proudly as I hold a box of Girl Scout cookies (they were only thirty-five cents in 1953.) However, because I was very shy, I dreaded having to go out with my minimum amount of boxes, (12) to sell to neighbors. I also hated asking anyone for money and I still do.

Girl Scout cookies were an easy sell. Even parents who already had their own Girl Scout would take pity on you and buy a box. It was just my personality. After I sold only half of my requirement, and those with great angst, my mother bought the other six - no problem with a large family to feed. I loved eating them - the thin mints, of course, and the short bread cookies called "Trefoils". I think there was also a vanilla sandwich cookie. The first "new cookie", added a few years later, was the "do-si-do, a peanut butter- filled sandwich cookie - also a big favorite. Now Girl Scout cookies cost $3 a box and more, and there have been many exotic additions.

Scouting outfits and accessories could be purchased at the Lobel's store near the Mays department store in Levittown. I loved going in there to buy new uniforms, pins, badges, canteens for camping etc. I believe the Boy Scout materials were also carried there. Camping was a big part of scouting. When Marilyn Monsrud (also Division Avenue High School's class of 1963) and I were nine, we were both at Camp Edy, in Bayport, for a week. For many girls, homesickness was a big issue. But since I was then the eldest of five, I was happy to be on my own, with nothing to do but have fun.

Later, at age 13, I went back to Camp Edy for two weeks, in a more "primitive" camp site, supposedly appropriate to our age and skills. However, putting a dozen 13-15 year old girls together, in the woods, for two weeks, is not always the wisest move. My tent mate, who was 15, missed her boyfriend and her hair dryer. And for me, two weeks was a long time to be away from friends, the TV and the telephone.

In fifth grade, we "flew up" to being an "Intermediate Scout". Our skill levels and activities were more interesting . The green uniforms with green berets were somewhat more attractive than the Brownie ones. But, despite how much a girl might enjoy scouting, the closer one got to puberty, the more embarrassed many of us, including me, became about wearing our uniforms to school. Meetings were often held at school, at the end of the day.

In junior high, the "dorky" factor became even greater. Even though I would have liked to have become a "Senior Scout" (some rare troops on Long Island even had programs where you could learn to fly - but not ours), the competition with school mates to be "in" became too great for me, and I eventually dropped out.

Later, as the mother of a 10-year old in Virginia, I was talked into being a Girl Scout leader. It was fun in many ways, and my husband helped. But it was also very challenging, with two other children to raise, and, of course, the cookie sale to coordinate. It made me greatly appreciate the efforts of my past Brownie and Girl Scout leaders.

Also in adulthood, I visited the childhood home of Juliette Gordon Low, the founder of American Girl Scouting, in Savannah, Ga. My daughter was with me, and I was amazed at how emotional it was to be there. Girls Scouts were brought up to venerate the founder. One of the favorite Girl Scout songs is called "Make New Friends" It talks about the delights of both new and old friends because "One is silver and the other gold". I have found that to be true.
_______________
The 1955 Brownies group photo is courtesy of Marilyn Monsrud Frese who is the first person on the right, next to the author. Note the Levitt houses in the background.

Thanks to social networking, a blog headline was changed as was the name of someone listed among my class's deceased

A 1959 Chevrolet Impala convertible, not a Bonneville, carried the cheerleaders

By Frank Barning

Three weeks ago I posted a story about social networking. It was built around being informed by email of the passing of long-time Division Avenue High School teacher and administrator, Larry Lasker.

Within a matter of a few hours I had searched the internet for a recent photo of him and found one. Next I asked a friend to scan her early DAHS yearbooks for photo of him, then I wrote a story and the next morning I posted the story with photos of a well remembered man.

These steps were all tied together by social networking. A telephone was never used.

The March 10th blog post ran under the headline, "During Saturday afternoon football games at Division Avenue High School, a classic white convertible was part of the scene." Well, that was not the headline when the story was initially posted. The original headline mentioned a white Pontiac Bonneville.

Within 15 minutes of the story being posted, two comments were sent in, catching an error in the identification of the convertible. Anonymous wrote, "I believe the car is a 1959 Chevrolet, with the 'cat's eye' tail lights." Eight minutes later, the class of 1962's Howard Whidden Class commented: "I well remember Gary's dad's Bonneville and this ain't it! It was his pride and joy. We had a '59 Chevy (not a convertible) and the gull-wings tail were the same as the convertible in this picture."

I did not change the story, just the headline. Added under the story was "See comments below as to the year and make of the car." JonB observed, "Not only a Chevy, but an Impala!"

The following day, an email from Corinne Norgren Burns '61 cleared up who owned the car. She wrote, "The car in the picture is indeed a 1959 Chevy Impala. It belonged to my Dad and he graciously allowed me to use it on 'special occasions'. The photo is in the 1961 DAHS yearbook on page 144 which means the photo was taken in the Fall of 1960. The white Bonneville is pictured on page 100 of the same yearbook. Both great cars and great memories. By the way, my Dad is 96 and still sharp as a tack. Thank goodness, he doesn't drive anymore."

Approximately 10 people noted the incorrect information. Three forwarded internet links to photos of the correct vehicle. Interestingly, all corrections were from men. Feedback is appreciated and I don't mind being corrected. The blogger does not have a research department to check facts. So the occasional error will occur. Not even my wife thinks that I am perfect.

I maintain a list of the deceased members of the classes of 1960 through 1963. It is available through my Facebook page and was posted in the blog last September. If I remember, it will be run here on Memorial Day.

Information for the grim list has come primarily from Barbara Wittenberg Taylor, my 1960 classmate. As she has built, over many years, a mailing list for her class reunions, Barbara has shared information with me. And since a fair share of old Division people are in touch with me, news of the passing of classmates has been sent to me. I then share it with Barbara. And so a list of the deceased has been built.

A few months ago, someone emailed to ask if I was sure that Bill Whalen (class of 1960) was dead. Truthfully, I can never be certain unless I see an obituary or get the info from next of kin. Concerning Whalen, I checked back with my original source and he remembered from whom he was told that Bill had passed away. Then I checked with the incredibly thorough Barbara and she told me that in all her efforts to build her mailing list, she never could locate Whalen. She did not know that he was no longer with us, but it supported the information that I had.

About two months ago, Jim McGrath '60, informed me that he believed that Bill Whalen was alive. Great news, indeed. They had gone to high school and college together. Both had been wrestlers.

Jim wrote, "I thought he passed also. It started with Facebook. I received a friend request. His Facebook name is Bill Whalen. At first I thought it was a joke. His profile picture looks so different." Jim had not seen Bill in some 45 years, so that might explain how he looked.

"His facts were correct," McGrath continued. "He graduated from Brentwood High School in 1960 (his family had moved). Wayne State class of 1964. Retired and widowed and his email address. I accepted him as a Facebook friend and asked him a few questions. He responded with the correct answers. Stuff about our New York flag football team, etc. So I believed him and responded back."

This scenario is another great example of the power of social networking, the rebirth of Bill Whalen. Rejoicefully, I corrected our deceased list and informed a few people that their old friend was alive and well in Florida.

The deceased list has far more class of 1960 graduates than 1961-63. The reason is Barbara Wittenberg Taylor's reunion efforts. I am not aware of anyone having done much research for the other early DAHS classes.

Under the comments section of my deceased list in my Facebook notes section, Merilee Flamm Kubart 1961 wrote: "I remember hearing way back when that Joanna Cook (class of '61) was killed in a car crash in upstate NY while at college. Thought I read it in the local paper while living in Levittown. Any way of checking it out?" Unfortunately, no, unless someone reading this has information.

Social networking, for me, adds hundreds of sources of information, ideas, the sharing of memories, and the occasional blog correction. That an automobile was not identified correctly is small change compared to learning that Bill Whalen could be deleted from the deceased list.

Who wore short shorts? The 1959-60 Division Avenue High School varsity basketball team did

Click on photo to enlarge

Front row: Coach Jimmie Amen, Tom Schneider, Gary Parker, Mike Newton, Ernie Villatore, Carl Kielbasa

Middle row: Tom Toscano, Jack Leahy, Frank Tompkins, Ken Plass, Jeph Astman, Mike Caldararo, Pete Cybriwsky

Top row: Ron Albaum, Frank Barning, Mike Fitzgibbon, Stan Pesner, Jack Ellerkamp

Photo courtesy of Susan Villatore

Thank you Mr. Fricke for helping to mold my development

Division Avenue High School yearbook photos of Mr. Fricke in 1960 and 1975

By Tom Paturzo Baker, 1960

I can walk the halls of Division Avenue High School in my mind. The trips from one class to the other, not simply the floor plan, but also the teachers who taught the courses emerge in my memory. Occasionally, we encounter a teacher who literally sculptures our personality. This was case of my art teacher, Mr. Harold Fricke, a gentleman and scholar.

His class was a form of emotional therapy; he influenced my appreciation for the finer things in life. More importantly, he helped me understand myself. It was in his class that I formed a clay sculpture. Life is similar to sculpturing clay, as one peels off the layers to self and strives to declare a finished product.

At times, I would inflict my frustrations on the clay and later destroy my efforts. My art teacher would ask insightfully, “How are you feeling today.” On the day before wrestling matches, he would take away my project and lock it up securely. He would comment: “Tommy, just sit, otherwise, you’re are going to destroy your art project!”

He knew me better than I knew myself. Walking away to help other students, his words still echo in my mind. His understanding and compassion is the hallmark of a great teacher. I can remember him like it was yesterday, in his tailored suit, never a wrinkle, and a shade of Cary Grant in his walk and demeanor.

His class and that human sculpture helped me find the way that semester. The project was that of a muscular man; each deliberate touch peeled away the layers of my own feelings. I painted the sculpture black and posed him in a posture of shear desperation, head and eyes facing down.

Realizing later how people failed to achieve equality around the world, I understood how the clay sculpture not only reflected my struggle to become a person, but also the struggle of humanity.

Mr. Fricke was delighted with my final clay sculpture. I failed to appreciate the results and the artistic abstraction at the time. The prism of maturity and retrospective refection allows me to fully appreciate the essence of the meaning of the sculpture. Mr. Fricke molded my development and character, as I molded the clay. I am still in the process of creating my sculpture; however, today he would have his head up and eyes to the sky.

More memories of the treasured Levittown swimming pools and pool tags

click on image to enlarge

Our March 10 blog post ran under the headline "The symbol of Levittown should be the humble pool tag; it is an icon that sticks in the memory of all who treasured one." A few more old Levittowners have chipped in with their recollections:

Brenda Baldassare 1960
Oh my gosh, it's Memorial Day weekend, we must get pool tags. I remember it always hung on the kitchen doorknob even after the kitchen was extended, the pool tag moved with it. Whenever I visited my Father, even at 84 years old, that year's pool tag was still on the doorknob.

Swimming and diving lessons were free at the pool. I did a lot of belly flops. We girls would perform water ballet stunts. The guys would do cannonballs off the high board. We would lay on our towels on the cement floor, I now prefer my comfy lounge chair, soak up the sun and read books. Joan Lucas, my forever friend, and I would go to the Bookmobile up by JC Penny regularly. Joanie, even then, was a speed reader, I could not keep up.

I'll never forget we girls, including Barbara Wittenberg, Midge Bollinger, Linda Kenley, had to wear those fancy swim caps. It was a law, if you didn't, you had to sit out for one-half hour. Those wannabe lifeguards were relentless on discipline.

And one more memory. Occasionally my Mom would take us girls to Jones Beach. However, on arriving home, we always went right back to the pool for a refreshing dip and to make sure we didn't miss anything exciting.

Frank Barning, 1960
In the summer I invariably had a pool tag tan line on my left wrist. The Azalea Road pool was the center of my universe each summer and the pool tag was the key to the kingdom. And I as recall, no one ever peed in the pool.

Marti Traystman Welch, 1960
Oh my, the pool tag. I seem to remember wearing it on my ankle or maybe the strap on my bathing suit. Having our own pool was wonderful, and so many choices of pools. The tag certainly did mean the beginning of summer. Ours hung on one of the hooks on the fireplace. I usually went to Azalea, or the East Village Green. I remember walking to the pool (of course this was when we were older) otherwise we hooked a ride with a neighbor or were dropped off.

Joan Bartels Signorelli, 1962
The most wonderful part of growing up in Levittown were the pools. I see those pools as a privilege of living in Levittown. The pool tag was very important to my family. My brother and I enjoyed the pool daily from 9 am until 5 pm. We were very careful with the tag.

I seem to remember both of us going into the Azalea Road pool with our one tag. Our Mom and Dad went with us, sometimes our cousins, aunts and uncles. Wonderful memories of the pools and pool tags.

Charles DiGiovanni, 1967
I absolutely loved the article about the pool tag. But the thing I loved best was taking the bus, for a whopping $.90 round trip, to Jones Beach. There was nothing better than a summer day at field 4. Pick the bus up right on Hempstead Turnpike and Division Avenue and in 20 minutes or so we were at the beach. Wonderful!

Marilyn Monsrud Frese, 1963 (who still lives in Levittown)
Alas...there are no more high boards at the Levittown pools. They now have about half of the deep end filled with swimming lanes. But the low board is still there. Swimming lessons are still given for free.

And we have LAC Swimming Teams (Levittown Athletic Club) with a huge competition at the East Village Green Jerusalem Avenue pool near the end of the season. Another change is that they now allow you to bring in a chair or lounge, probably due to the fact that there are less kids here now than in our day. Some of the pools have a shelter area, benches under a strong roof-type structure to shade you from the sun. Great if you have babies or very small kids. Even strollers are allowed in now and you can wear your flip flops/sneakers in. But there is still "no running." The lifeguards are constantly yelling that to the kids.

I believe there are actually 13 Levittown pools- some not inside the Levittown zip code, just as some of the Levitt homes are not all in Levittown. They are also found in East Meadow, Wantagh and Hicksville where these towns border Levittown.

All you need is a utility bill which you take to Levittown Hall. There is a small form to fill out with name(s) of all family members, kids ages and your address. Then your tag is handed to you. If you lose it, there is a $1 replacement fee. You can bring in as many guests as you like.

Ours hang all summer on the original hooks, the black iron ones that are in the brick fireplace wall in the kitchen in the ranch homes, originally built in there to hold pots. My kids, who all live close by with the six grandkids, just stop to pick it up when they want to take the kids to the pool. The Jerusalem Avenue pool at the East Village Green is open until 10 PM. The kids love to go swimming at night. The pool is lit from tall pole lights and underwater lights. Pretty cool!

Division Avenue High football coach Jerry Jewell was immortalized as the tall, dark stranger in a Maverick theme song parody

The old coach is still going strong. This photo was snapped at the class of 1960 reunion in 2010

Jerry Jewell was a physical education teacher, department chairman and football coach at Division Avenue High School for decades. Some of us remember him as early as around 1956 when he was a young gym teacher out of Cortland State. He built a great Blue Dragons football program, one of the best in Nassau County.

The class of 1961's John Kinstrey played on some of coach Jewell's early teams and recalls that the players, not to his face, referred to him as Tonka, Chief and Wahoo because he resembled a Native American.

"I think my teammate Carl Kielbasa hit on Tonka," said Kinstrey. "These names were terms of endearment which never left the confines of the locker room. The little ditty we made up about him went to the tune of the original Maverick TV show theme song starring James Garner."

Who was the tall dark stranger there?

Jerry Jewell is his name.

Beating a path to who knows where,

A whistle’s his companion

Wind sprints are his game.

Chorus:
Run along all you clods

Tearing up all the sod

Run it on down the field

And back again.

We’ll be here 'til five

And unless you come alive

We’ll be on this football field 'til ten.
**
Your blogger's recollection was that maybe John Kinstrey's 1961 classmate and football teammate Tom Lux had written lyrics. Here is his poetic reply.....

Tommy was talented, have to admit

But had nothing to do with the writing of it.

Daydreaming in class consumed most of my time

So I dabbled and pondered the challenge of rhyme.

The infringement of copyright I did take on

By the time they caught up

I long would be gone

So I stole the Maverick tune like a thief

And put in pentameter our Indian chief.
*****
Mr. Jewell attended the 50th reunion of Division Avenue football last year as well as the 50th reunion of the pioneer class of 1960. According to some of his players from the old days, their coach's early nicknames still seem appropriate. John Kinstrey has been crowned by your blogger as the Poet Laureate of DAHS football.

The symbol of Levittown should be the humble pool tag; it is an icon that sticks in the memory of all who treasured one

What are your thoughts on what your pool tag meant to you and what memories or emotions are evoked by seeing a photo of a pool tag some 50 years later?

Wally Linder, 1961
My memory is not really good. You had to get one (two)? every year. I think you had to have an electric bill to prove residence. You had to get one of your parents to do it in person, at the pool gate, right around Memorial Day.

Pool tags were always there. Ours hung in the kitchen. If you had lots of kids in the family, and they wanted to go to different pools, you had to sneak in, or have someone throw their pool tag over the fence so you could use it.

When I look back at my subsequent residences, I realize how privileged we were in Levittown to have the pools to go to in the summer. I've lived in many good neighborhoods, and none had a pool system like Levittown.

Michelle Fromm-Lewis, 1963
The Levittown pool tag is an icon for the lazy, hazy, crazy days summer. We pressured our parents to rush right down to get our family tag as soon as they became available each year, usually around Memorial Day. It meant we would have a central place to meet friends, flirt with the opposite sex and have a really good time. It was a place to cool off on a hot day, especially because the pools were not heated, but once we hit teen years cooling off wasn't our main goal.

Looking at the pool tag also reminds me of my father. He was an excellent swimmer who made sure we learned to float and to swim a proper forward and backward crawl so we would always feel safe in the water. He also did fabulously graceful swan dives and jackknives off the high board. After one horribly painful belly-flop trying to dive from the high board, I kept my diving to the lower one. I can still manage a basic dive, but I never attained fancier skills.

Jon Buller, 1961
No specific memories, except that they changed from year to year, in material and color. The Levittown Museum in Abbey Lane School had a collection, although I’m not sure if it was complete. I think it would be interesting to have photos of these.

Sandy Adams, 1960
Wow- forgot all about that momentous item! The trick was not losing it while swimming. The memory of what was done with the pool tag surfaced immediately while looking at your photo - the ‘strap’ unchanged after all these years. A loop was made, similar to securing a luggage tag and voila, the pool tag was attached to my bathing suit strap!

Pat Stanley Share, 1962
The pool tag, meant SUMMER, school vacation. I spent a lot of time at the Bluegrass Lane pool, we lived on Bluegrass Lane and I was a member of the LSA, Levittown Swim Team, I love to dive and swim in competition. We were so fortunate to have had so many places to hang out and stay out of trouble. Each section of Levittown had its own pool, shops and assorted other things so you were close enough to walk.

Arnie Galeota, 1961
That pool tag was my ticket to being an accepted member of the group I hung with. It also was the tool so I could learn how to swim in the Azalea pool. I can't even imagine those hot summer days with my friends all hanging by the pool and me looking in from the outside through the chain link fence because I didn't have that tag. Better I should lose my Rolex rather than that tag! It was also a tool for me to entertain my out of town family and friends which I brought in as guests. Some of them were kind of envious of the facilities that were open to us as residents and all we needed was this tag that you wore on your wrist or ankle.

Many of those same friends had to go to a municipal pool in their city neighborhoods where you paid and it was so crowded, or the beach which was an ordeal as well. And that tag gave us access to nine such pools. That tag was kept under surveillance at home by our family members so we wouldn't lose it. I believe that tag was an instrument that kept many from getting into trouble by hanging on the streets. With boredom comes doing things you wouldn't ordinarily do to entertain yourself and your buddies. That pool tag probably kept you out of jail. LOL.

Marilyn Monsrud Frese, 1963
Tough to feel anything except "yeah...summer's here, the pool tags are ready" since I still get one every summer!

Kathy Stahlman Zinn, 1963
Ah, the pool tag. That precious admittance to the glories and summer relief of the pool. I remember the anxiety if we couldn't find the tag. In our large household, even though we had a tag for everyone, you had to find them on the appointed day. But once you had that little bracelet around your wrist, you knew you were in. I think I saw one at the Levittown Historical Society Museum, and felt a surprising affection for it. How many places today have a membership in a community pool free with ownership? There is always an extra fee. We were so fortunate.

Susan Weldon, 1960
the photo of the pool tag brings back wonderful memories of my friend pat moore who moved to connecticut in 10th grade. we went to azalea pretty much every day we could. my strongest and funniest memory is of the day we decided we were too exhausted from staying up all night at her house and couldn't face the walk to the pool. we hired a neighborhood kid (can't remember who) for a quarter to pull us there in his red wagon. of course we got out a block from the pool so as not to be seen in such uncool circumstances.

pat and i remained friends til her death some years ago. i was with her constantly for her last few days. i was her maid of honor for her first marriage and her first child's godmother. she was my 'date' for the dahs 25th reunion. we babysat for each others children and were honored guests at their weddings. i'm still connected to her son and daughter and their kids. i miss her humor, lack of pretension, filthy mouth and intelligence every day.

you noted that i was the only one who listed the library as one of my favorite levittown places. pat and i went to the library once a week and each took out the maximum amount of books that were allowed. one summer we decided to read every book in the library and started with the As (i don't know how far we got). if a book looked good, we'd fight over who got to read it first and occasionally it was settled by leg wrestling which i always won as my legs were much longer than hers. she never gave up though - stubborn, feisty irish/jewish girl.

During Saturday afternoons football games at Division Avenue High, a classic white convertible was part of the scene

click on photo to enlarge

This 1962 photo propels us back to those crisp fall Saturday afternoons of our high school days and the excitement of watching the Blue Dragons play football. Perhaps you can hear echoes of coach Jerry Jewell screaming instructions to his players.

This priceless picture was provided by Pat Stanley Share, class of 1962, who wrote: "From left to right it's Janet Trama, face covered unknown but am guessing Susan Kilbride, Linda Kaiser, me, unknown and Suzanne Propper." The photo was taken in the Division Avenue High School parking lot.

Isn't that convertible a beauty? The girls are sitting on one owned by Gordon Parker, father of quarterback Gary Parker '62. According to Gary, who lives in Georgia, the car was a white 1960 Pontiac Bonneville.

Marilyn Monsrud Frese '63 remembers it well. "Gary's dad used to let him drive it for our special dates such as proms. It was also used in homecoming parades."

We thought those days would never end.

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From the blogger: See comments below as to the year and make of the car.

David Amster recalls his youth in Levittown, before there were telephones in houses, just phone booths down the block

Amster's 1963 yearbook photo and the recent celebration of his 65th birthday

By David Amster

We moved to Levittown in 1949 from Queens, New York when I was four. Astoria was not like this. It was like moving to the country. Barren is a simple word. Back then Levittown was houses and dirt streets and phone poles for electricity but no phones, just a phone booth on the street every 20 or so houses to start. Later more of those and then eventually each house got phone service....albeit party lines.

As the time went by, Levitt and Sons paved the streets and put in sidewalks. If you wanted trees and bushes you went to a nursery and bought them and planted them. Eventually people got to having things look like a lived-in neighborhood with grass and the WOW factor that this was going to be really nice and it truly was.

We lived on Woodcock lane, at #35, not far from my Division Avenue classmate Michelle Fromm at #68. We really did grow up together. We each had a brother but I had no sister, except for Michelle because that is how close our parents were. One of our moms put a note in the phone booth asking about getting a mahjong group together and the other answered it and that is how Vivian and Sylvia met. The phone booth was the Social Network of its day.

It was just under a mile to DAHS and so to get there we usually walked. Busses were for over a mile away kids. If we were late we might get a ride from our folks. For years I remember riding my bike to school. There were racks and racks to lock up the ride. We went to Northside School until we finished sixth grade, then on to junior high at Division Avenue. We became the class of 1963.

I remember an art teacher there who let me experience many kinds of art and though I am not artistic I loved that class in seventh grade. In eighth I was working for the school library and organizing all the older magazines they had collected. That is something that stuck with me for life...organizing things.

During my high school years I was never on the inside, too much of a geek and loner with few friends; more girls than boys.

For my 13th birthday we had a party at my house and a bunch of friends were there and a storm came in quickly and there was maybe 12 to 16 inches of snow when we had to get everyone home. Cars were useless so everyone had to trudge through the white stuff. Several of us walked with the ones furthest from home and then dropped others off as we got closer to my house.

Those were the days when parents did not worry about our safety as they do now, and they let us go, with the understanding that we would call from house to house so they at least knew where we were. I clearly remember dancing to Elvis singing ever so slowly “Don’t”. Ahhh the old days.

My dad ran a business from home and was there sometimes during the day. We had a gigantic garage and one time Kenny Zwerling and I decided to skip school (maybe as seniors) and we decided it would be cool to go up on the roof and wait for my dad to leave. We made too much noise up there and got caught.

Yes, I remember many of the teachers mentioned in earlier posts here, and some made lasting impressions on my young mind and I appreciate it to this day.

At age 15 I met Marilyn Reh at a temple dance and found we both went to DAHS but she was class of ‘62 and was 11 months older than I. We were in different circles until we started dating. There were two sets of proms and the trip to Jones Beach the next morning, once in the rain.

One thing really stands out. Senior year we were doing all kinds of fund raisers and I got involved in the newspaper drive (collections), tons of papers, load our cars and go to the station where they weighed the car before and after. One time in the winter we thought to soak them in water, let it freeze and then go to turn them in. Not too bad an idea except that as they got warm in the car the water soaked the car and, well you get the idea. But it was a lot of fun.

It all went by too quickly. We love Jones Beach so much that we still go to Long Island and stop at the beach when we get the chance.

Remember I mentioned Marilyn Reh? We married in 1967 and have two sons who brought us two daughters and in turn three grandchildren. It has been an interesting life and the experience of DAHS and Levittown gave us a great start. Thank you Mr. Levitt and also the G.I. Bill.

Remembering the best places to hang out in the Levittown area during the 1950s and 1960s, including village greens, swimming pools and Jahn's

Michelle Fromm '63 and big brother Cliff '60 have fond memories of the Levittown swimming pools. This photo is from 1965.

The similarity of the lists printed here is amazing, after all these years. Village greens, swimming pools, the roller rink, Meadowbrook Theater, Whalen's drug store and Jahn's were homes away from home for Division Avenue High School students.

To many of us, Jahn's had the best ice cream in the universe and the free swimming pools that dotted our community were splendid places to met our friends. Do you remember the pool tag you attached to your wrist to gain entry? And only Susan Weldon listed the library.

Levittown kids weren't rich, but we felt like we were. There was so much to do and we felt safe, day or night.

Blogger Frank asked some of his fellow students to provide lists of their "best places to hang out. Here goes:

Cliff Fromm, 1960
1. North Village Green Bowling Alley
2. East Village Green
3. Azalea Road pool
4. Meadowbrook Theater
5. Whelan's Drug Store

Michelle Fromm-Lewis, 1963
1. Woodcock Lane (On our street we were "one for all" regardless of age, sex, ethnicity, religion; there was always something going on.)
2. Azalea Road pool
3. Levittown Community Church - Friday night dances during the summer for all neighborhood kids
4. Meadowbrook Theater or the roller rink
5. Levittown Center (Mays Shopping Center)

Warren Zaretsky, 1960
1. Vice Principal Eugene Aiello's office
2. Wherever Anna Joy Herman was
3. Chris Wilkens' house
4. Anna-Marie DeNardi's kitchen
5. Officer DeMayo's squad car

Susan Weldon, 1960
1. Azalea Road pool
2. West Village Green
3. Chris Wilkens' house
4. Library
5. Bowlder Lounge

Howard Whidden, 1962
1. North Village Green pool
2. North Village Green bowling alley
3. Jahn's
4. Roller rink
5. Meadowbrook movie theatre

Roberta Landry Bremmer, 1961
1. North Village Green pool
2. Skating rink
3. Alice Nutini's house. She is also class of 1961.
4. Dunkin Donuts (across from St. Bernard's Church) on Sunday mornings
5. Loring Road friends' (Dotty & Joan Scagliola and Kathy & Marianne Ryan) back yards

Pat Stanley Share, 1960
1. Bluegrass Lane and Azalea Road pools
2. Football games
3. Whelan's drug store, our meeting place
4. Mays Dept. Store, first job
5. Jahn's

Wally Linder, 1961
1. Azalea Road pool
2. John Fitzsimmons' house
3. North Village Green
4. Outside Sid's Deli
5. Cafeteria on Hempstead Turnpike, after basketball games Friday nights

David Amster, 1963 and
Marilyn Amster, 1962
1. Jahn’s
2. The roller rink
3. Any Village Green
4. Any of the nine FREE Pools
5. Meadowbrook Theater

Karen Biro Hewson, 1960
1. Meadowbrook Theater
2. Wilfred's Coffee Shop
3. Caruso's
4. Bowlder Lounge/bowling alley
5. Mays shopping center

John Kinstrey, 1961
1. Baseball or football at Redwing Lane playground with Tommy Toscano, Richie Cianci, the Mitchko brothers, Mike Fitzgibbon, Russ Seymour, Barbu Alim, Dicky Yaw, Leo Grant, Henry Glazer, the Gateley brothers, David Reavis, Russ Cistaire, Butch Rand, David Rosenberg, and Mark Scope (he was wrongfully blamed for burning down the wooden handball court, we think.)
2. Azalea Road pool with same dudes.
3. In the winter time, sledding in the sump behind the Azalea Road pool (Toscano never went; wasn’t into the breaking and entering thing)
4. West Village Green playing stickball waiting for the truck to arrive with our bundles of Newsday.
5. After October 1958, 8 Meadow Lane.
Note: I never had the opportunity to get to Whelan’s on Hempstead Turnpike. By the time detention was over, everyone was usually gone.

Frank Barning, 1960
1. DAHS gym, playing basketball
2. North Village Green, playing baseball with the infamous Natives and harassing girls
3. Azalea Road pool
4. Dances in the old gym at Division, music on 45-RMP records
5. Mal Karman's house; Mrs. Karman was a generous and welcoming lady

Jon Buller, 1963
1. My room
2. Long walks
3. Azalea Road pool
4. Caroline’s Restaurant (North Village Green)
5. Sid’s Deli (Hempstead Turnpike)

Ann Crescenzo Fassino, 1961
1. North Village Green - Artie would make us chocolate egg creams and toasted corn muffins after school
2. Azalea Road pool
3. Roller skating rink
4. Whelan's drug store
5. Our home at 203 Kingfisher Road

Arnie Galeota, 1961
1. North Village Green bowling alley
2. Whalen's drug store on corner of Hempstead Turnpike and Division Avenue
3. Caruso's
4. Diplomat Cafeteria on Hempstead Turnpike near St. Bernard's church
5. Jahn's

Pete Weiss, 1963
1. America on Wheels skating rink
2. Jahn's
3. The Meadowbrook Theater, the site of a couple of personal "firsts," which for now will remain undescribed
4. The "sump" next to Wisdom Lane Jr. High, which almost always had a section of chain link conveniently cut for easy (but forbidden) access.
5. Nunley's Happyland/Jolly Roger at Hicksville Road and Hempstead Tpke. (this seems a little weird in retrospect, but my friends and I used to ride our bikes from our neighborhood - Hunt Lane and Gardiners Avenue - down to the Jolly Roger and get plates of sauerkraut - it was free - for a quick lunch, because whatever change we had we spent on the arcade games. Many of these had to do with weapons - machine guns, rifles, bombers, submarines, etc. - which seemed perfectly normal at the time. There was even one called "Slap the Jap," and another that was a submarine that torpedoed ships with Japanese flags on them. These were leftovers from WW II days, but also didn't seem out of place in the mid to late 1950s, especially for guys who watched war movies.)