Crosby High School 1945-1949
After graduating from St. Annes's grammar school in 1945, I looked forward to entering High School. This was to be a big step up. But before I would begin that adventure, there was a summer coming up and there was a war going on.Crosby Hjgh School
All throughout the war (WWII for those not up to date on their history), young kids, such as myself, did what we could to help the war effort by collecting newspapers, metal things of all sorts for scrap drives; buying victory stamps at school, etc. But in the summer of 1945, Victory Camps were set up all over the country to help bring in the crops. These camps were called CCC camps.
Such a CCC Camp was set up in the town of Windsor, CT to help bring in the tobacco crop of that year. These jobs were advertised locally and sign up areas were provided. I signed up and got hired. I was 13 at the time. I turned 14 in July. The camp was set up and run by a contingent of folks from Florida, from around the Tampa & Bradenton area. They ran the camp, provided the kitchen help, etc.
We lived in an old school on Prospect Hill Rd. that had been converted into a dormitory and dining hall. Everyday we would be trucked to some tobacco field of the American Sumatra Tobacco Co. There was also another group that worked for the Hartman Tobacco Co. Our job was to pick the leaves from the shade grown tobacco and put them into a canvas basket that we trailed behind us. That meant that we had to slide on our butts, pick the bottom three leaves, put them in the basket behind us, then push ahead with our hands on to the next plant. We picked left, right, then pushed ahead till we got to the end of the BENT, A picker's progress was measured in the number of bents picked. A bent was the distance between one net pole to the next (about 20 feet).. When the basket was filled, we hooked an empty one to our belt and continued. At some schedule, we would return to previously picked fields and pick the next three leaves. The Hartman Tobacco workers cut the whole plant above the root and speared the plants on wooden lathes. They didn't have to go back or slide on their butts. The tobacco from those plants were used as filler for cigars. The leaf picked tobacco was used as the outer wrapper for the cigars.
This continued all day, every day, except when it rained.For this, we were paid about 50 cents an hour Plus 25 cents for each bent we completed. The good news about picking was that it got easier as the season progressed. Your posture became more erect (like the evolution of humans) with each successive pick. Second and third picks were done on the knees; fourth, fifth and sixth, standing. After a while, your hands and arms were black and sticky
from the leaves' sap. And of course your clothes were full of dirt, sap and mud. The summer temperature under the tents was probably as high as 120 deg F. One of the purposes of tents was to retain humidity, and boy, was it hot. The picture on the right shows the young plants being attended to inside the cheesecloth tent.
On an August afternoon, (August 6, 1945, to be exact). An announcement was made that Japan had surrendered and the war was over. There was much whooping and hollering and work was called off for the rest of the day. They loaded us into trucks and took us into Hartford to join the celebration. The only thing was, they didn't provide us with transportation back. It was a long walk back to Prospect Hill.
Although I usually got home on weekends, by hitchhiking (both ways), This was my first taste of being away from home by myself as a teen=ager, but it wouldn't be my last.
Soon after we moved to Wolcott, in 1942, we got a puppy from friends in Watertown. We named this puppy "Butch". He was my friend and faithful companion for the next 8 years, until I left for my Army career in 1950. One day he was struck by a car that did some damage to his hind legs. I carried him home and made a comfortable place for him in our basement. There, I cared for him till one day he started walking, and soon he was able to climb the stairs to our kitchen. Without any outside help, he willed himself better and eventually was back to his old self.
The summer of 1946, for reasons I don't recall, my folks arranged to have me enrolled in the Novitiate of the Sacred Heart in Pascoag, Rhode Island. The purpose was to become a religious brother; a teaching brother. This school was located in the northwestern corner of Rhode island, near the Lincoln Downs race track. I recall hearing the trumpet announcing the days' races over their loudspeakers on a warm summer afternoon. It was classroom for religious studies and then playtime with all sorts of outdoor activities from archery to swimming, softball, etc. Not too bad a way to spend summer; like summer camp.
The Sacred heart Brothers bought a building in Shawsheen Village, MA, near Andover. It was a former corporate headquarters for a textile firm. The CEO committed suicide, the company folded and the Brothers acquired the building and were converting it into a boys boarding school.
The novitiates were brought there to help with some of the work. We often took our breaks by going up on the roof to enjoy some fresh air. The roof was flat with a balustrade around it, so we could lean on it and watch the local traffic go by on the street below. It was there that I discovered that this was not the life for me. I would watch as the young girls rode by on their bicycles wearing shorts. "What am I doing here?"
After about two weeks, we left Shawsheen for Sharon, MA, the Mother House. The brothers had a private beach at Lake Massapaug, near Sharon.Though it was private, it wasn't isolated. Not too long after that, the brothers sensed I was not meant for that life. So the put me on a train at South Station in Boston for a trip to Hartford. In Hartford I took a New England Transportation bus that drove right by our house in Wolcott. As I walked in the house, my mother was reading a letter from me telling her I was coming home. So ended my short lived religious career.
The New England Transportation bus was our lifeline to Waterbury from Wolcott. This was the only means of getting back home if any of us were out late at night. The last bus left Exchange Place in Waterbury at 10:30 or 11:00 PM. Many a night I missed the bus and had to walk or hitch-hike home; a 5 mile trip.
So, with that career over, it was time to go back to school and get on with my life. My sophomore year was for the most part uneventful. I started working for the newspaper after school in the circulation department and delivering bundles to carriers with Ed Corcoran, my driver and district supervisor. Though I had delivered newspapers before, this was a better paying job for older boys. I worked in the delivery room bundling newspapers until Ed's car was loaded, then we went out on our route. I enjoyed that because it broke up the daily routine very nicely. Ed had a couple of girl friends along the route, and more than once I'd wait in the car while he did his romancing. Now, he had a great job.
One incident that I recall; my friend, Red Gracie, and I decided to play hooky one day and hitchhike a ride to Naugatuck. Of course, there was no route 8, as we know it today. So, on South Main Street we were looking for a ride, when a car came by and stopped for us. We ran to the car and as I was reaching for the door handle, I read the words on the car door; "City of Waterbury - Dept. of Education". Of course, the driver was a truant officer. He took us back to Waterbury and took Red Gracie into Leavenworth High School, which was across the street from Crosby, where he attended, and left me out alone. For some reason, he thought I was out of school. So I walked to the newspaper office and hung around, waiting for the afternoon papers to come out and get on with my job. Imagine my surprise when the papers did roll out. Each day on the front page was a small humorous article called "Today's Best Story". That day's article was about two boys who were playing hooky, hitchhiking and got a ride from the truant officer. I felt bad for Red Gracie, but I felt pretty good for me.
During my junior year, though I was just 17, I joined the National Guard with my friend Ralph Côté, (no relation). World War 2 had been over for just a couple of years and I was still enamored somewhat with the military as I had been during the war. TheNational Guard, as well as the Army in general, was low on enlistments, due to the discharge of so many veterans. So they accepted anyone that could walk in and sign up.
Mom and Pop
It was great, I got a check every three months, had use of the dayroom at the armory where there was a TV set. Very few people had TV then; we didn't have one at home. There were parades, military balls, free admission to events at the armory, etc. It was not only a military, but a social activity.
There were two other organizations that I belonged to during my high school days. One was the local Grange (aka Patrons of Husbandry). That provided me with opportunities to meet other members of the Wolcott community. It also provided me opportunities to play and sing with my guitar. The other organization was called the "Wolcott Revelers". This was a singing group, no guitar. There I experienced performing on stage with other singers in the Wolcott area. It was unfortunate that all this had to cease when the Army called me to full time duty. Another member of the Wolcott Revelers was Joe Ciriello with whom I would, many years later, join in a BARBERSHOP QUARTET, called "The Chordial Four".But that's another story. I eventually lost the abilities I had learned and enjoyed for playing both the piano and the guitar. But I never lost my voice and the pleasure I got from singing. But that would have to wait for a few years.
Chordial Four Quartet
Bill Langelotti-Tenor
Joe Ciriello-Lead
Alan Coffey-Bass
Me-Baritone
In the summer we would spend two weeks training at an Army base. That first summer (1948) we went to Camp Edwards, Massachusetts, on Cape Cod for our training. We trained during the day, but at night and on the week-end we were free to go into town, Falmouth, as I remember. The following summer was also spent at Camp Edwards.
We were trained by units of the regular army. These were paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division. I remember looking at these guys and thinking, "Man, there's NO WAY you'd ever get me to jump from an airplane."
After graduation, my father got me a job as an apprentice toolmaker at the Scovill Manufacturing Co., where he worked. Apprentices would spend 4 hours a day in the classroom, learning shop math, and then spend the next 4 hours operating different machine tools. In my case, all I got to operate was a shaper. My career goal was to be a toolmaker.
In the summer of 1950, we went to Pine Camp, NY for our 2 week training. (It's now called Fort Drum, home of the 10th Mountain Division). From there we were able to spend our week-end visiting the Kingston Ontario Canada area of Lake Ontario, Old Fort Henry, the Thousand Islands, etc. Beautiful, in the summer.
Just before our 2 weeks training was over, we were assembled in the parade ground area to listen to an important announcement. We were informed that we were now in the Army - full time. The war in Korea had begun about 2 or 3 weeks before and we were now Federalized.
During my junior year at Crosby High School, I went to a dance at St. John's Church in Waterbury. (The old one, before it burned down). This was your typical high school dance, with a local band; Les Partiss, from Crosby H.S. was the band leader. It was there I met and danced most of the night with Therese Hevey; a freshman from Watertown High School.
Therese
This was my dream girl. I thought of her constantly. I made sure I got her address and maybe her phone number. As I recall, not every household had a telephone back then; not like today when everyone has a phone glued to their ear. So, I'm not sure if there was a phone at the Hevey household on Davis St. in Oakville. In any case, we kept in touch.
To make a long story short, we dated for the next couple of years. It was an on and off relationship. Sometimes she would be going out with John Hillman, my rival then, and at other times, with me. It stayed that way until 1950.
When we got back to Waterbury from Pine Camp near the end of July 1950, we reorganized as a full time unit of the U. S. Army. I was part of G Company, 2nd Battalion, 102nd Infantry Regiment, 43d Infantry Division. Our official date of federalization was August 5, 1950. For the remainder of August, we trained every day at the armory. For lunch we marched to Diorios' restaurant on West Main St. That wasn't too bad. We had our lunch served by waiters and we didn't have to leave a tip.
Towards the end of August, we boarded a troop train and headed for Camp Pickett, VA. The camp hadn't been used since the end of WWII, so our first task was cleanup. In November I was transferred to Fort Dix, NJ to attend a leadership school for 5 or 6 weeks. While there, I received a telegram one day informing me that Therese was at Grand Central Station in New York; would I please drop everything and come get her. I didn't have a car. Fortunately, I was able to borrow a car from a friend. I drove to New York City, got to Grand Central Station and looked all around for her. I couldn't find her... but I kept looking. Finally, a stranger tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to her saying, " I think that young lady is looking for you". Then I saw her. I don't know what she would have done, alone in NYC, if I had not been able to get there.
We drove to New Jersey, I found a room for her in the little town of New Egypt. She stayed there until Saturday, when I picked her up and headed back home to CT. On the way back we made our plans to be married.
After Thanksgiving, I went back to Virginia and waited for the Christmas holidays when I would be on leave. We planned to marry on Dec 27, 1950.
