Hastings Gardens, Rutherford. From the Goldfinger family album.
By Paul Goldfinger, Editor Blogfinger.net
We lived in a two bedroom garden apartment in Rutherford, NJ. I was in high school. The photo is undated, but it is c. 1956. I am on the right looking like I just witnessed the first atom bomb test in Los Alamos or maybe I just got a date for the prom.
The photographer was probably Auntie Jean, Mom’s older sister, who spent a lot of time at our house. Yes, we did call her “auntie” as in Auntie Mame. She was the only aunt to have that title because she was so special. She was like a second mom, and when my actual mom wanted to clobber me with a flying shoe, she stepped in between and saved me from the wrath of Mom. It was sort of a game; like a vaudeville shtick.
My brother Mel, the little guy on the left, was a natural comedian. When I first brought Eileen to our house, he threw down notes from upstairs for her. They said, “Does your mother know you’re here? You should go home.”
Dad, whose name was Max but who was known as “Mickey,” looks like he is about to slice my ear off, but he was OK with that monster knife. Mom was named Myrna, but everybody called her “Molly” or “Malka” (her Yiddish name.)
She was a song and dance mother who was the youngest of 9, growing up in Bayonne. She once auditioned for Ed Sullivan, and our house was always filled with music—-usually her singing, and Al Jolson and Broadway melodies on the record player. Dad sold aluminum chimney and roof mounts for TV antennas.
On Thanksgiving, I would travel in the morning with the RHS “Bulldog” band to Passaic for the oldest football rivalry in New Jersey. Passaic usually won the game, but our band was better than theirs and the best part were the Passaic “Indian” cheerleaders who wore leather with fringes—– very erotic to a high school sax player and all his friends in the stands. But our cheerleaders were hot, too, and I watched in amazement as they did splits on that cinder track.
There are a few Passaic High grads from that era currently living in the Grove.
After the game we all went home on the bus with our cheerleaders, flag wavers, and twirlers. We played “In the Mood,” and the girls danced in the aisle–jitterbugging and laughing. The game was forgotten before we left Passaic stadium.
About the wall paper: what can I say? I don’t remember it, but looking at the photo, I wonder if Mom considered the psychological side effects of the pattern. My brother went on to become a neuro-scientist, so maybe the wall paper took its toll.
When you listen to the music below, near the end, when the band gets quiet, listen for the rim shots by the drummer. My buddy Frank had that job, and it was tough to get it just right. You had to count very carefully, and Frank talks about those rim shots to this day.
GLENN MILLER and his orchestra: “In the Mood.”
This photo is the best !!!
I just came across your site this evening, and love it. Grew up with family in Philly n Jersey, and Blogfinger nails the vibe 🙂 Happy Holidays!
Reblogged this on Blogfinger and commented:
It was silly to post this last Spring. So this is better timing. If you can stand to look at it twice, check out the comments also.
PG, thanks for the TG article & the pic!
For historical interest, on the band bus, were the girls ‘in the mood’? In my day, they were definitely not!
Hi Jojo. Thanks for joining the fun. At least you and I from our class can remember that far back. Jojo was a twirler, and a very striking one indeed. I remember her because I studied every one of those twirlers. They marched in front of the band. The trombones marched in the front rank, and if they hit a low note they could actually make contact with a twirler, but never mind.
And they threw that baton way into the sky, never missing it on the return trip, and illustrating gravity to the senior physics class. But Jojo..as amazing as that was, it, I’m sorry to say, falls a bit short (excuse the pun) by comparison to the cheerleaders who could do a split on the cinder running track around the football field. A cheerleader doing a split is one of the seven wonders of the world.
Do you remember the bulldog that they brought to our games? There was one girl who’s job was to walk around with the bulldog. As I recall, despite 5 years in the marching band (a story for another time) I never once approached that dog.
But I did once approach a Teaneck High cheerleader who came to our soccer match with their squad. Somebody told me that there was a Teaneck cheerleader named Goldfinger. I was captivated by the idea, so I grabbed a teammate and we crossed the field at half time. And there she was: a Goldfinger cheerleader–astonishing!! So I went up to her and said, “Hi, my name is also Goldfinger, and if you marry me, you wouldn’t have to change your name.” It was a great, once-in-a-lifetime pickup line. Did it work? She wordlessly turned around and walked away. We also lost the match.
Joe D. Thank you for that memory. We busted our chops every year to prepare for the Clifton Band Festival, and that Clifton band was awesome. One year we were the host band at the Festival and had to go out from the end zone at the start, go up the field, make a left flank to the stands, and then play the SSB. But it wasn’t to be.
Our drum major was a 6 foot gorgeous blond with a tall furry hat, a short skirt, and a giant baton who led us up the field. Her job was to look beautiful and signal that left flank, but she, due to some loss of focus, signaled for a right flank. So half the RHS band went left and half went right. ( a true moral dilemma–too much for a high school kid)
A huge groan came out of the stands and we all ran around like a hive of 2nd grade soccer players to recompose ourselves. An embarrassing moment never to be forgotten. To this day, when I meet a former band member. I ask them, “Did you go left or right?” and they know exactly what I mean. I would have loved to be in that Clifton Mustang Band. I think their cool uniforms were grey or silver. The RHS blue and white uniforms made us look like a battalion of crossing guards. (ps: I went left.) —-Paul Goldfinger, Editor @Blogfinger
It all looks and sounds so familiar. But for me in Clifton it was Clifton vs Garfield every Turkey Day. You must remember the Fighting Mustang Band, one of the best in the state even today.
I so enjoyed that story and picture. I was one of those twirlers.
Fun times. On a side note my Dad graduated from Passaic high school. I never remember my Mom attending the Thanksgiving games. She was home cooking the fabulous dinner that awaited us when we arrived home. Thanks for the memories PG.
I would head off with my father on Thanksgiving morning to Hinchliffe Stadium in Paterson for the Eastside-Central game. Central later became Kennedy, but that was the 60’s. My dad had played sax in the Central band. Eastside’s nickname was the “Ghosts,” so there were no leather fringes.
As one of those “era” campers in OG, enjoyed the off-season picture and story very much.
I enjoyed the picture and humorous story…it takes me back to simpler times.There is nothing more enjoyable to me than looking at old photographs.