ousing on Stanley Avenue was in 4–story wood–frame buildings. The apartments were “railroad rooms,” two on each floor, with a wooden open stairwell from basement to top floor, and a skylight and roof hatch door above. You entered into the living room, where there would be a radio and victrola. To the rear was a bathroom with a tub, then the kitchen and a wooden back porch. To the front were the bedrooms, with no doors and you passed through one to the other. The front porch was wood, 3 or 4 steps, and commonly called the “stoop,” and a gathering place for young and old alike.

Coal stoves in the kitchen were used for both cooking and heating and a potbelly stove would be in the front room. Garbage went down a wooden dumbwaiter or the wooden stairs in the rear to a garbage shed. Kitchens had ice boxes, scrubbing boards, and a deep sink used for washing dishes, children, and laundry. There was no hot water, so water was boiled.

The owners usually lived in the building, generally in one of the first floor apartments. Rent in the 1940s was about $15 per month.

The games kids played included hopscotch, kick the can, hide and seek, cowboys and Indians, soldiers, marbles, flipping baseball cards, pitching pennies, stickball, punch–ball, boxball, touch football, and Johnny rides the pony.

Shopping was done at Kucthas for 1/4 pound of baloney, tub butter, pickles in a barrel. Williams Stationery had a soda fountain. There was Francis Edwards ice cream store, Klein the barber, Cohen’s secondhand clothes, and the Safeway and A&P “supermarkets” on Riverdale Avenue (probably no more than 1200 square feet). The firehouse on Riverdale Avenue gave us Christmas toys.

Movies were at the Lido, Strand, Proctors, Loews, the Broadway, and the Park Hill. The Lido would have two features, a chapter of a serial (Superman, Batman, etc.), cartoons, and free comic books, and one night weekly for free dishes or glasses, all for 11 cents.

Once a week we went to the Bath House on Jefferson Street for a hot shower, for which they provided a towel and small bar of soap. We went swimming in the Hudson at Sandy Beach, south of Ludlow Street. There were no lifeguards and it was next to the sewage plant. You could also go to the pool at Tibbetts Park on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, when it was free.

We started working after school at 11 or 12, delivering newspapers or for one of the neighborhood’s small stores, setting bowling pins, or caddying.

World War II was air raid drills, blacked out windows, scrap drives, rationing, and Gabriel Heater on the radio with war news. Windows displayed a flag if a family member was in the service. Many apartments were vacant during the war; when it ended they quickly filled up.

After the war the Blair Shipyard closed and Otis, the Carpet Shop, and most manufacturing went back to civilian production. Khaki and Eisenhower jackets became the fashion. The girls had babushkas, bobbysocks, and ponytails.

We were poor, but we didn't know it because we were having too much fun.

How did the Stanley Avenue kids end up? None became criminals. Some became police officers, fire fighters, telephone and Con Ed workers, engineers, and some stayed in the military. None became country and western stars or Joe DiMaggio, but one became an artist. Most of us went on to raise families with grandchildren who now want to know how us old folks lived on Stanley Avenue a half century ago.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Stanley Avenue in southwest Yonkers runs for about 1/4 mile north from Ludlow street, one block east of Riverdale Avenue. Jack Treacy, who still lives in Yonkers, wrote his reminiscences for Yonkers History. We invite all of our readers to similarly share recollections of their neighborhood, organizations, etc., to add to our city’s history archive.