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My first summer job in the Bronx was at Orchard Beach, which I remember more as the seventh level of Hell. There were always too many boys for the available jobs and you waited until the boss man came out across the river Styx. "You, you, you, and you. You, also you, you, no, not you, yes, you," he commanded until he had selected his army. Everyone else went home. Thirty cents to get there and thirty cents to get home and with nothing to show for it (thirty cents meant a whole lot more then than today). There may be several days before you got your chance to cross over with the ferryman.
I got called on the second day and was assigned as an ice cream vendor who roamed the beach wearing a pith helmet and white clothes with a heavy box of ice cream pops and dry ice on a strap over your shoulder. I don't think there's anything worse than walking on sand that moves and shifts under your burning feet. So back and forth along the beach I walked calling, "Ice cream, ice cream," and as the day progressed the more I approached exhaustion and looked more and more like old lady Finklestein who had osteoporosis so bad she couldn't look at anything but her feet. At one point in the late afternoon I heard a woman's voice say, "Look at that poor kid." My shift ended and I checked out. All that was left was a package of pops that had been packed incorrectly by someone else earlier that morning and were broken and unsellable. The next morning, which was a Saturday, I decided to quit--I could quit or die, my choice--so my father drove me out to the beach to collect the money due me. The Orchard Beach concession people had an interesting way of determining your wages. For each ice cream pop you sold you earned a nickel but for each one you didn't sell they subtracted the sale price and since there was a carton of unsellable pops left in my box the full retail price was deducted and I came away with less than $2.00 in cash for the whole day. It took several days before I could stand straight again. |
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A most interesting story.
I remember those guys walking Orchard Beach. Back in the day, we used to call Orchard Beach Horse....Beach. |
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[QUOTE]Originally posted by DeWittC64:
My first summer job in the Bronx was at Orchard Beach, I remember this well also they used to sell soda too, try and get one of the kids today to do this lol I was brought up in the South Bronx 152nd and St Annes Ave.Went to all the stores on 149th st.Alexanders Herns Freeds Cushmans German Pork Store.Later moved to burke ave. Had lots of friends on 187th st and Arthur ave in early sixties. went to all the feasts and loved all the Italian specialty stores.Used to go to soccer games I think the teams were Milano and FordhamItalians |
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I remember those poor kids walking in that hot sun.Now they sell loose joints. or Spanish food on the beach. Remem you would get a $5.00 fine if you sat on the wall. No walking on the grass, now it is a vacation resort with hammocks tents cooking drinking etc. Police don't do anything because they don't want any riots.
The did call it Horse s_ _t Beach. |
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Never liked Orchard Beach. My family preferred Jones beach. And I'm talking from the late forties to the late fifties..
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I remember Orchard Beach well. We would get the bus in Fordham Road, whar lines we had to wait on just to get on the bus.then we would go to a certain section on the beach where our friends hung out.I think it was section 13 or 17. Those poor kids carrying those things filled with soda or ice cream that was slave labor.Orchard Beach was very hot you could get a bad sunburn if you werent careful.For people who didnt own a car Orchard Beach was the place to go.
I was brought up in the South Bronx 152nd and St Annes Ave.Went to all the stores on 149th st.Alexanders Herns Freeds Cushmans German Pork Store.Later moved to burke ave. Had lots of friends on 187th st and Arthur ave in early sixties. went to all the feasts and loved all the Italian specialty stores.Used to go to soccer games I think the teams were Milano and FordhamItalians |
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I too spent a lot of time there growing up, although a lot of times we kept going to City Island. The Horse S--t beach also might have come from all of the horseshoe crabs that inhabited Orchard. Looked like turtles with a very stiff tail.
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Funny story DWC. You write real well. I too remember Horse s hit Beach, mostly with fond memories. It was a meeting place for SO MANY Bronx high school students.... I graduated from Monroe in 64, so I couldnt help notice you are a Clinton '64 graduate. Did you attend any of the great baseball and/or football games between Monroe and Clinton? I played baseball for Monroe, as did Ed Kranepool. If I had any semblance of a memory, i could probanly mention folks we knew in common, as many of my friends were friendly with Clinton students. Steve Heller Monroe '64 ______________________________________________________________ Where love rules, there is no will to power, and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other. |
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