Athens County Historical Society

Jessica Cyders - Curator Athens Historican Societ and Museum 01-22-2013Friend Jan Norris and I spent the day at the Athens County Historical Society and Museum meeting with curator Jessica Cyders and other folks. They are a great bunch of folks who made me feel very welcome and very flattered.

It’s fun to see people get excited about small details that help them fill in holes in the area’s history. It looks like my Ohio era photos could end up with the society when I go toes-up.

I had forgotten how hilly Athens is. If Norris stayed here a week, she’d have the Athens Calves that everybody develops here. I wish I had taken a photo of her in her many layers today. “Is there any color in the rainbow that you’re NOT wearing?” I asked her. If her lips hadn’t been frozen together, I’m sure she would have come up with a smart reply.

Jan may get to see snow falling

Weather could be interesting. The first forecast I saw this morning showed Cape getting up to five inches of snow on Thursday and Athens getting the same amount on Friday. Both have been revised downward, but the official word from the weather service is “a fast moving winter storm system is forecast to race across the quad state region Thursday night and depart Friday morning. The latest available forecast model guidance suggests while it is still too early to pinpoint exact amounts and locations… it continues to look like at least some accumulation of snow… ice… and sleet is expected with this system.

Droppin’ a Dime

Want to know where the phrase “droppin’ a dime” on someone came from? It was what a phone call cost Back in the Day. These coeds are waiting their turn to step into iconic phone booths outside Scott Quadrangle, my old dorm at Ohio University in 1967.

They are probably waiting because you were lucky if one of the three were actually working. (You can click on the photos to make them larger.)

No helicopter parents in our day

Buddy Jim Stone, who attempts to pour physics into student heads at Boston University, was talking about “helicopter parents” the last time we got together in Cape. In these days of cell phones, email, Facebook and texting, parents are involved in their kids’ lives to an unhealthy degree, he contended: parents don’t give their kids an opportunity to solve their own problems. The world conspired to force us to be more independent, he pointed out.

  • College kids in our generation weren’t virtually connected.
  • Dorm rooms didn’t even have phones until late in my junior year. There would be one or two hall phones per floor that would be answered (maybe) by someone walking by when they rang. You might or might not get notified that you had a call.
  • There was no privacy. There was usually a line waiting impatiently for you to get off the phone.
  • Ohio was cold in the winter and it would rain for days, things that didn’t lend themselves to long outdoor conversations.
  • Long distance was exotic and expensive. You didn’t call home unless it was IMPORTANT (like, you were broke).
  • The coin-operated phones would become so stuffed with change that you couldn’t make a call until they were emptied by the phone company, something it took its own sweet time doing.
  • By the time you finally DID get around to calling home, you had probably already worked out your problems yourself (except for being broke).

Calls used to be a nickel

You can see from the instructions on the phone that “ONE nickel will NOT work. Use TWO nickels or one dime.”

I’ll never forget one telephone booth on the west coast of Florida. I had been chasing a hurricane all day, alternately being buffeted by the wind and deluged by horizontal rain. I needed to check in with my Number Two guy at home to see what was going on at the office, so I was happy to see the glow of a phone booth in front of a gas station off in the distance. I ran from the car to the booth, which was rocking in the wind hard enough to make me wonder if it was going to pull loose from its slab. Directly overhead was a huge swinging advertising sign. If that puppy snaps off, I thought, it’ll slice this booth and its contents – me – like a guillotine blade, leaving me both twice the man and half the man I started out with.

To make the experience worse, John and Susan had just adopted a baby and thought it was “cute” to have a long answering machine message that featured the baby crying. Never much fond of “cute” under favorable circumstances, I found this less than amusing while contemplating my mortality. I “gently” suggested that he go for a shorter greeting for the duration of the storm.

Other phone booths

 

Tom’s Pizza, Not Tony’s

I was all excited when I found these negatives of what I thought was Tony’s Pizza Palace across from the Rialto. That was the place that defined pizza for me. I sat in there many a night wolfing down pizza that cost, maybe, three bucks, and pumping quarters into the jukebox. Tony cut his pies into square slices, too, something I haven’t encountered anywhere else. We had a long discussion about pizza places in Cape in a May 2010 post. (Click on any photo to make it larger.)

Joint in Columbia looked like Tony’s

In the summer of 1964, Nancy Jenkins and I went to a summer workshop for yearbook staffers at Missouri University in Columbia. While we were there, we walked into a pizza joint that had the same look and feel as Tony’s: same ovens, same square pieces, same layout. It was uncanny.

Deju vu all over again

Shortly after I transferred to Ohio University in Athens, Ohio, I walked into a pizza place about four blocks down Court Street from the student newspaper office and this crazy feeling of deja vu: the place was laid out like Tony’s, had the same menu, same square slices. The only difference was that it was called Tom’s Pizza Palace. I was blown away.

Watching it being made

After I became a regular, I told Tom about the crazy coincidence of three pizza parlors in three different towns in two states that were carbon copies of each other. He laughed and said that they were all relatives of Tony’s. He found the formula of small college towns and good quality for a reasonable price to be a hit with college students and locals alike. Every so often, Tony would go back home to Greece and recruit a new relative to open up a pizza parlor.

I don’t know if the story was true, but it had the right ring to it.

Where’s the Jukebox?

When I started looking closely at the pictures, something didn’t feel right about it being Tony’s. I remembered the jukebox being in the back of the room, not the side of the room.

That’s not Broadway

The view out the front window should have been the parking lot between the Rialto and the H&H Building on Broadway, not a storefront.

Pizza box is the giveaway

The giveaway was when I looked closely at the top of the pizza box: Tom’s Pizza Palace.

So, if you were in Athens during the late 60s, this will make you feel right at home. If you were in Cape and loved Tony’s square slices, this is as close as I can get you until I find some new negatives.

Tony’s is a tattoo parlor

When I took this photo October 24, 2009, a tattoo parlor had moved into Tony’s old place. The sign fixture looks like the one I remember from Back When.

(You know, I may be wrong about the sign. I looked in the background of some photos of the 1964 Homecoming Parade and noticed the sign was square, not rectangular. Maybe the new business used the same mount, but changed the sign.)

 

 

Smokey Robinson at Ohio University

I covered a lot of concerts and music groups without really knowing (or caring) who they were. I didn’t even bother to label the negative envelope in many cases, so I don’t know if the group went on to become famous or they were were just a garage band that somebody wanted to review.

These photos WERE labeled and dated, but I can’t, for the life of me, remember the concert. It said “Smokey Robinson 2/17/68.” I did some research and found that Smokey Robinson & The Miracles DID perform at Ohio University on that date. I must have covered this for The Ohio University Post.

Is he still alive?

Compounding my embarrassment, I asked Wife Lila, “Is he still alive?” she said that he was not only alive, but she had gone with a friend to see him perform in West Palm Beach not long ago. “He still puts on a fantastic show.”

When I went to the official Smokey Robinson website, I saw that a “legendary Rolling Stones photographer” was selling prints of Smokey on stage in 1968. Too bad I’m not legendary. These pix might be worth something.

Photo gallery of Smokey Robinson concert

Since I don’t have anything to add, I’ll just post the photos and let them speak for themselves. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or ride side of the image to move through the gallery.