Sunday in White City. Helen Beal and Hermina Cichanowicz (with cat) seated on car. Fender, running board, left to right: Americo Bracci, Stanley Winowski, Ada Bracci, Dino Bracci and Tony Cichanowicz. The identity of the person in the car is uncertain but it may have been Serena Vitali. The car probably belonged to Dante Bracci.
Some time after I posted this page, I received the following from David Allegrezza: “I believe the gentleman sitting on the far right identified as Tony Cichanowicz is my father Aldo Allegrezza. Aldo has passed but his brother Nello confirmed it is him.”
We lived in “White City.” However, we sometimes referred to it as “The Hill. “We all seem to have wonderful memories of our times there.
Even though we grew up during the depression years, we did not realize that we were poor. Families that lived on “The Hill” were employed by Draper Corporation. The homes were owned by the corporation. Each week a few dollars were subtracted from the men’s salary for rent. However, the upkeep was minimal. Our homes were painted periodically (inside and out). The company trained plumbers, carpenters and electricians, who took care of all the repairs. They even supplied our light bulbs.
Our neighborhood consisted of many immigrant families-Polish, Russian, Canadian, English, French, Italian, Irish and one Armenian family. Our life style was different. It seems as if we lived in all the homes.
Most families had gardens. If a home did not have enough land for a garden, it was no problem. There were a lot of wooded areas around our hill. A small plot of land was cleared, and a garden was planted. We had fresh vegetables all summer. In the fall, families were busy canning and pickling foods for the winter.
Christmas was special. Lisa, a true gourmet Italian cook, could even make dandelions taste good. She had a big black stove and at Christmas the top would be covered with chestnuts. Another time, an English neighbor came to visit us with homemade plum pudding and hard sauce. She flamed it. We were fascinated. The French introduced pork pies. When my mother made doughnuts, there were enough for all the children.
Can you visualize a world without cars? I can only remember one car. We walked and walked some more. At times we rode on the bus or took a taxi. In a way, it was great for us. The streets were our playground. Generally, we could stay out until 9 p.m. We played tag, cops and robbers, etc. In the winter, we used the hilly roads for sledding. Our family even had a pair of skis. We took turns-we would ski down the hills, dodging garbage cans, ducking under clotheslines and at times bumping into the bushes.
When we were older, we were allowed to go ice-skating on Hopedale Pond. It seemed that half of Hopedale was there. At times the boys would form a line, skate fast and then “snap the whip.” The kids at the end of the line would go flying.
Everyone on “The Hill” had to be home by 9 p.m. We discovered short cuts through the cemetery, or we cut through the railroad tracks. I recall one evening vividly. We were just strolling along slowly. Suddenly, one of the girls yelled, “Look!” We turned around and not far from us, we saw a silhouette of a tall man clad in a cape and a top hat. He was so visible in the moonlight. Then he extended his arm. We were terrified. We all ran fast! One of the girls dropped her skates. We retrieved them the following morning. No one seemed to believe us. Hermina (Cichanowicz) Marcus, December 2002.
Back: Serena Vitali; front: Ada Bracci and Hermina Cichanowicz. “Notice the bushes and stones so prevalent in back of so many homes. Skiers were not concerned. After heavy snowstorms, more snow was packed over the stones and our own ski jumps were created. Older boys blazed a ski trail and we would follow.” Hermina Cichanowicz Marcus
Draper softball team, 1943. Back row, left to right: Virginia Marble, Priscilla Sadler, Mae Pagani, Hermina Cichanowicz, Coach Clifford Smith, Helen Beal, Rose Marcone, Norma Fitzgerald.
Front row: Louise Dinunzio, Eleanor Smith, Barbara Taft, “Toots” Carron and Marion Hewson.
“We were fortunate to have Lloyd Fitzgerald as our personnel manager. He was an avid sports fan. He was instrumental in organizing four girls’ softball teams. Each team had a coach. We took our games seriously and practiced quite often. The games were held every week during the summer. Because the Milford News gave us excellent coverage, many spectators came to watch us.
After two years, an all-star team was chosen and we were told that Draper Corporation had scheduled a game with a professional team. We had heard rumors that the professionals did not wish to play against us because we were amateurs. Naturally, we were indignant and a bit timid. We practiced every night and then went to Lake Nipmuc (rollerskating) to unwind.
When the team arrived in Hopedale, we were still a bit tense. Quite a few fans came to watch us. The news reporters were also present. Early in the game, Mae (Pagani) Costanza hit a home run with the bases loaded. She could play better than any professional and seldom struck out. The final score was 20 to 1. We had won!” Hermina Cichanowicz, December 2002. To see a 1950 men’s softball team, click here.
The War Years
I have the fondest memories of Tom MacNevin, Frank Perry and Chippie Fitzgerald. I worked in the Master Mechanic’s office for four years and I have never forgotten them. I often refer to those years as my “glory years.”
I recall the day that Pearl Harbor was bombed. Rumors had been trickling in about the Nazi atrocities, but not too many were concerned. We had our doves and parades promoting peace. Then Pearl Harbor. Everyone wanted to retaliate. The following day, there were lines at the recruiting office. We had been attacked.
Draper Corporation was transformed into an ammunition plant. Guards were posted at each entrance, and we were compelled to show our identification cards (photographs, etc.) Security was tight. This was war.
Various items were allotted to each family. Silk stockings were a luxury. Nylon had not yet been invented. It was not unusual to wear a stocking that had been mended. But most of the women in the offices dressed well; fashionable dresses and high heels. Women who replaced male labor wore slacks.
Because of the draft, the “big band” era seemed to slowly fade away. Saturday nights had been dance nights. With all eligible boys in the service, girls sought other types of entertainment.
The war seemed endless. We had to wait for news. Every letter was censored. Soon, dreaded black telegrams began to arrive, informing a family that a son or a brother had been killed in action.
My brother Tony enlisted in the Navy. He spent most of his time in the service attending classes, even though he kept volunteering for active duty. My mother kept praying that he would be spared. Finally, the Navy allowed him to go to Japan. While he was in the middle of the Pacific, the U.S. dropped two atomic bombs and the war was over.
After all those years (seemed so much longer at the time), the home front went wild when news arrived of the victory. People from Mendon Street and Mendon came to White City to celebrate.
My mother went into her room to say a prayer of thanksgiving. Everyone else on the Hill got a bit tipsy-all, except my father. He saw a chance to get some free drinks. Most of our neighbors had some alcoholic drinks in their homes. My father disappeared into the night. He came home at midnight-sober! “English woman-she kept giving me tea-tea-tea! And she could not stop talking.” Everyone was excited. The war was over. Hermina Cichanowicz Marcus, December 2002.
