THE ROCKAWAY I KNEW
By Matthew Bashie
CHAPTER TEN: TIME TO REDECORATE!
Our apartment was furnished in a style referred to as "early welfare" Our interior decorator was a drop-out from the Braille Institute.
Often, I have heard people when referring to their own childhood, comment: "we were so very poor but we really didn't know it." Well - my family was poor and I DID know it! When we had originally moved north we took very little of our furniture with us - it was difficult enough just to transport our clothing and the few basic "pots and pans" my mom needed for cooking. Considering the space taken up by hauling our bedding, our sheets and towels, there was very little room left in the van for heavy furniture. In a stroke of good luck or as a generous accommodation to my family, my father's youngest brother (who was a medical doctor living in Forest Hills) provided us with some of his castaways and we also received some "donations" from a few of our friends and other relatives.
So, we made the best with what we had and felt fortunate that we basically had what we needed to survive - as little as it was. It would be years before my mother would feel comfortable enough to invite friends and relatives over to "our place." Although it was no shame to be poor it was no great privilege either - especially back in the early 1950s.
Thinking back to those early days, I often wonder how our neighbors were able to survive. We were a family of only three - and we had two bedrooms. Some families we knew had four or five children — some were boys and girls who were obviously teenagers - and they only had a single bedroom. Where did all those kids sleep? Did the parents set up "bunk-beds" in the living room? And how about the bathroom? Did seven or eight people in one apartment have to make appointments well in advance to use the toilet facility? How did they arrange for showers? Did they make up a written schedule? Even my best friend Ralph, his parents only had one bedroom and I have to admit that I was more than surprised when I saw that they had his single bed next to their double bed - all in the same bedroom. I have never had to sleep in the same room with my parents and not having any siblings, I have always slept alone.
Wavecrest Gardens, a new massive apartment complex in Far Rockaway from which we rented the largest possible apartment back in those days only charged us $126. a month and that included all utilities, except for the use of a telephone. My dad was a blue-collar worker and my mom was earning a basic wage - yet we were able to get along and put aside some money each week for the next "rainy" day. I remember hearing that a family two floors down had nine kids - all in a one-bedroom apartment. I am surprised that the renting agent even considered them under the weight of a family that large. Was it possible that as little as we had that there were others living around us who had even less??
In March of 1953, my folks decided to purchase a few new items of furniture and to discard some of the "less attractive" stuff that we had been using. I remember that they had $700. saved up which was a small fortune to me. I don't think I had even seen a one hundred dollar bill before. I had no personal savings of my own to fall back on so just to consider that much money all in one place at one time was mind boggling to me.
Although my father was a mechanic at the time, in his
youth he had worked in his families' furniture store - the untimely death
of his own father when my dad was 17 precluded his ever attending college
and he entered the business immediately upon his graduation from Charles Evan Hughes High School in Manhattan back in 1924. With that type of background, you think the man would have had some ability to chose appropriate and substantial tables and chairs but things are not always what they seem and often times our parents prove to us that they are not the geniuses that we would like them to be.
The local furniture store in our small Far Rockaway town was located on the main business thoroughfare - the west side of Central Avenue - in a four-story building. I remember running through that store - trying to see as much as I could. Neve Furniture even had sofas and chairs on stair landings - the place was very well stocked and from what I remember, it was the only furniture store in the town so competition was, to say the least, rather limited.
Having made their decisions, my parents paid for the goods and arranged for a convenient delivery date - and by "convenient" that meant a time that sonny boy (me!) would be home to accept the merchandise and to sign for it. Both of my parents worked full-time jobs and I got home from school shortly after three in the afternoon so delivery was arranged for a Friday afternoon. You also have to realize that at that time, it was not uncommon for children of nine or ten to make "adult" decisions. It was a different world. My parents trusted that I would be able to "check off" what was delivered, the condition of the furniture upon delivery, and then sign the receipt and "tip" the truckers upon completion of the job. I got no extra allowance for that; it was my meager contribution for living in the family group.
Boy! Was I in for a surprise! The furniture that my parents picked out was simply horrible. Style-wise, nothing matched. The colors were all wrong. Things didn't fit into the spaces they were supposed to go into. Although the stuff was brand new, it really did look as bad as the junk that we had just thrown away. So much for father's experience and ability in the retail furniture business. Now I knew why dear old dad was no longer selling furniture. However, being a "dumb" kid, I said nothing. I counted up what was delivered, inspected it, signed for it, and then gave the truckers two bucks each for their efforts.
I had all the furniture in place by the time my parents arrived home from work that night. Naturally, they were very pleased with what they had bought. I said nothing. My opinion really didn't matter. Besides, it was their home; not mine. As far as I was concerned, I was just a boarder there. But something good DID come from all this. When my parents were originally planning what to buy they had asked me what I wanted for my own bedroom. I needed a decent chest in which to store my clothing but what I really wanted was a desk. My folks bought me a lovely chest of drawers that had an "open out" desk in the center. One of the draws pulled out and converted to become a "real neat" desk. I was thrilled with this. In fact, I still own it today. A few months ago, I moved the chest to clean behind it and still clearly stenciled on the back, it reads: "Neve Furniture -Far Rock - 1953." You have to admit that I really get long-term value for every dollar that was spent on me.
If you wish to contact me at any time, feel free to do so through this web site. I always love hearing from my fans and friends. M.B.
I always love hearing from my fans and friends. M. B.