Today is the anniversary of my mother's passing...
| She died in 1967, and so every year I like to write something in my journal in remembrance of her. I want to recall the good times she and I had. I grew up in New York City's borough of the Bronx. Many years ago, however, throughout the city, there existed a department store chain called F.W. Woolworth. When it first began, it was one medium-sized store. It was also called the "Five & Dime" or "Five & Ten Cents" store because its founder, Mr. Woolworth, guaranteed that every item for sale would not cost more than five or ten cents. This worked well in the early 1900s, when a person could buy a ceramic coffee mug for a nickel or a claw hammer for a dime. Later, though, the store's name changed to F.W. Woolworth because, giving in to inflation, those prices could not last. Nevertheless, when I was growing up in the 1950s, by this time Mr. Woolworth had opened stores all across New York City, including one in my neighborhood. |   |
It had become a much bigger store, too, which sold everything from cooking utensils to household products, and toys to greeting cards, including an assortment of basic items anyone would need.
And Woolworth's also featured a lunch counter, and this is where my mom comes in. She was a regular customer during most mornings. When I was at school, my mom would often go with her friends to Woolworth's for coffee, and for one of her favorite snacks, French crullers.
Crullers are circular-shaped deep-fried cakes with twists, and are similar to donuts. Most also have a coating of vanilla icing on top. I don't know how "French" a cruller really is, but having one with a cup of coffee, along with a handful of chatty friends at her side, was my mother's way of taking a break while doing her shopping.
I liked crullers. But when I would go to the lunch counter with my friends on a Saturday afternoon, as a chubby sugar crazy kid, I'd usually opt for the much more satisfying custard filled chocolate donut washed down with a chocolate milk chaser. Crullers were too light for me. They were, as far as I was concerned, food only fit for middle-aged women.
During the summer months, however, when I was home from school and had to go on dreaded shopping excursions with my mom, to keep me quiet she would promise the two of us a stop at Woolworth's. For her, it was more coffee and another cruller. But my big treat was their specialty item, an approximately 3/4-inch slice of strawberry, chocolate and vanilla ice cream wedged between two cold waffles. It was basically a waffle and ice cream sandwich, and it was very popular.
This was my mom's bribe to keep me quiet, and it always worked. I hated going shopping, but with my dad at work, I was too young to stay home alone.
I'll never forget the Woolworth's store on Westchester Avenue. It was a busy place. The lunch counter, especially, was like the neighborhood's beauty salons where housewives would gather to gossip or talk about bargains and show off their latest purchases.
At Woolworth's lunch counter, women would spend hours debating which soap was better, Ivory or Dial. While the many ways to use Arm & Hammer Baking Soda was discussed with scientific precision because they were the experts in all matters concerning baking soda. Likewise, the ladies who chose to use Wesson oil for their cooking would openly argue against those who preferred Mazola. No product would escape their careful scrutiny.
Unfortunately, F.W. Woolworth is gone now. One of New York City's most popular chain stores had run out of business. In fact, one of the latest stores to close its doors was located in the busiest shopping area of the Bronx, Fordham Road. It closed, I believe, in the early 1980s. And with the departure of Woolworth's went a wealth of memories, although many good memories still remain. And my mother was a big part of all this.
D.B.
And Woolworth's also featured a lunch counter, and this is where my mom comes in. She was a regular customer during most mornings. When I was at school, my mom would often go with her friends to Woolworth's for coffee, and for one of her favorite snacks, French crullers.
Crullers are circular-shaped deep-fried cakes with twists, and are similar to donuts. Most also have a coating of vanilla icing on top. I don't know how "French" a cruller really is, but having one with a cup of coffee, along with a handful of chatty friends at her side, was my mother's way of taking a break while doing her shopping.
I liked crullers. But when I would go to the lunch counter with my friends on a Saturday afternoon, as a chubby sugar crazy kid, I'd usually opt for the much more satisfying custard filled chocolate donut washed down with a chocolate milk chaser. Crullers were too light for me. They were, as far as I was concerned, food only fit for middle-aged women.
During the summer months, however, when I was home from school and had to go on dreaded shopping excursions with my mom, to keep me quiet she would promise the two of us a stop at Woolworth's. For her, it was more coffee and another cruller. But my big treat was their specialty item, an approximately 3/4-inch slice of strawberry, chocolate and vanilla ice cream wedged between two cold waffles. It was basically a waffle and ice cream sandwich, and it was very popular.
This was my mom's bribe to keep me quiet, and it always worked. I hated going shopping, but with my dad at work, I was too young to stay home alone.
I'll never forget the Woolworth's store on Westchester Avenue. It was a busy place. The lunch counter, especially, was like the neighborhood's beauty salons where housewives would gather to gossip or talk about bargains and show off their latest purchases.
At Woolworth's lunch counter, women would spend hours debating which soap was better, Ivory or Dial. While the many ways to use Arm & Hammer Baking Soda was discussed with scientific precision because they were the experts in all matters concerning baking soda. Likewise, the ladies who chose to use Wesson oil for their cooking would openly argue against those who preferred Mazola. No product would escape their careful scrutiny.
Unfortunately, F.W. Woolworth is gone now. One of New York City's most popular chain stores had run out of business. In fact, one of the latest stores to close its doors was located in the busiest shopping area of the Bronx, Fordham Road. It closed, I believe, in the early 1980s. And with the departure of Woolworth's went a wealth of memories, although many good memories still remain. And my mother was a big part of all this.
D.B.
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