|
My Days at the Sayville Library |
|
To honor the Sayville Library as they celebrate their 90th birthday, I’d like to share some of my memories of working there from 1961 until 1968 and then serving on the Board of Trustees for another 25 years. As you may suspect, I have a special place in my heart for our library and the many devoted people who have served it over the years. My husband, Jim and I moved to West Sayville in 1960, Halloween Day, to be exact. Shortly after moving in, I was interviewed by Mrs. Elinor Haff, the Librarian but, there was no position available. So, I continued to work at the Hicksville Public Library, transferred to the West Islip Library with Mrs. Joy Meisels and finally in the Spring of 1961 was called to Sayville. I had a Nassau County Civil Service Junior Clerk rating, as well as time and training in the children’s rooms of both previous libraries. As soon as the Suffolk County Civil Service tests were given, I took the Senior Clerk test. I was working in the children’s room. When my new rating came through, Elinor placed me also at the circulation desk. I view those seven years spent conducting pre-school and middle grade story hours, puppet workshops, great book discussions, directing plays, and the Summer Reading Clubs, as the happiest of my life. Not only was the work fun, but it introduced me to Sayville. When I started, the staff included Peggy Loughlin, secretary, Georgia Crawford, bookkeeper, Ann Jahn, (whose husband, Joe was editor of Sayville’s Suffolk County News), Neltje DeGraff, Ada Kaler, Mrs. Bosworth, Ann Hubbard, Jo Celander, Joan Quinn, Jane Skidmore, as clerks. Later Blanche Schmidt followed Peggy as secretary. Please forgive me if I’ve left anyone out. Peggy left to join Adelphi University at Idle Hour, the Vanderbilt mansion. This later became Dowling College. Peggy Loughlin took a month’s vacation in 1961, and my first assignment was filling in for her. This was a challenge, as Peggy had been with Elinor for some time. She knew the ins and outs of the library and the people involved. In matter of fact, she was like a seasoned housewife and mother, who could make the job look like a piece of cake. She was responsible for all the correspondence, the cataloging and processing of new books, and many other important tasks that she accomplished every day. When Civil Service entered Suffolk County, Elinor and Peggy automatically became members. Classifying and preparing new books for the shevles was something that Mrs. Meisels had taught me, however I would not have managed without the help of Georgia Crawford. Together, we kept the books flowing. Elinor was a wonderful person to work for. She was caring for an aged mother, Mrs. Bertha Huntoon who was a Board Member. Married to F. Palmer Haff who was kin to Hank Haff, an American Cup sailor, Elinor often related tales of being becalmed on the Great South Bay. Mr. Haff was a nice man, he loved birds and made bird houses and bird feeders that he had all over their yard. He would often come into the library to tell us what new birds were in the area, or if his favorite grossbeaks had come to feed. Since the Haffs lived down Collins Avenue, on the corner of Collins and Edwards Street, I used to try to lure some of these birds to the library grounds, but no such luck. I guess they didn’t read. Mr. Haff was prone to accidents, and Elinor spent many hours in hospital emergency wards. Elinor was an excellent salesperson for the library. She attended all meetings of the Sayville Women’s Improvement Society, The Wet Paints (a group she had started.), The Chamber of Commerce and the Sayville Garden Club. A parishoner of the Sayville Congregational Church, Elinor was well known and admired in the community. At least two days a week, Elinor would come in in the morning, enter her office where she’d work for about an hour. She would then exit her office, her hat and gloves on, and it was off to a meeting, luncheon, or whatever else was on that day. “Watch the library,” she would call to us, “I’ll be back this afternoon.” Fortunately there were never any serious problems that we had to reach her for, most we could handle ourselves. At that time the library consisted of the old Reuben Edwards House,and a new addition that held the circulation desk, in back of which was wall, doorway in the center, a window on one side that looked into the office, a small hallway to the south of the office opened into Mrs. Haff’s office. To the south of the main entrance was the children’s room. Looking back at the physical makeup of the library, I realize how impractical it was. The house held four rooms of books off a long narrow room with tables for readers. You could not see into the book rooms from the main desk. In fact you really couldn’t see the corners of the rooms when you stood in the doorways. We had one patron, a doctor who used to come and sit on the floor in a corner of the room, hidden by the stacks and read. This often caused us a problem, as his receptionist kept phoning and we’d have to hunt him up and ask him to come to the phone. He’d beg off by saying that he was looking something up, or that he’d be on his way soon. The house was joined to the new wing by stairs which rose to what had been the first floor of the house or descended to the basement where the mysteries were. This was also the home of westerns and sundry other subjects. Neltje and Ada shared a desk down by the staff room where they mended books. A shute ran from the circulation desk to the mending station down which we sent the needy books. Miss Skidmore ran afoul of this shute one morning when carrying a handful of rubber band bound flimsies (proof of transactions) she stumbled and the flimsies, bursting from their prison, tumbled down the shute. That’s when we learned that the shute was lined with something akin to sandpaper. There were flimsies stuck all the way down the shute. Mrs. Haff chose just that minute to enter. “What’s wrong Jane?” she asked a weeping Miss Skidmore who pointed down the shute. Mrs. Haff took a look, Oh, my goodness Jane, how did you do that? Needless to say, Miss Skidmore was not in a condition to help, even though someone mentioned that we could hold her by her feet and she, being small could fish them out of the shute. But it was all solved. Ada and Neltje worked from the basement, Jo, Georgia and I took our end and Mr. Oertel, our custodian, who lived upstairs in the house, came along with a flashlight and a long pole with sticky tape on it and snagged the midground flimsies. It was a plus that Mr. Oertel was a crack fly fisherman. Gottfried L. Oertel was 72 years old when I first met him. He loved to quilt and had a large quilt frame set up in his apartment where he constantly had a new quilt in the making. Mr. Oertel came to work and live at the Sayville Library when he retired from Grumman Aircraft Corporation. He was a proud member of the Sayville Veterans of Foreign Wars, having served in WWI. One of Mr. Oertel’s favorite pasttimes was fishing off the West Sayville Dock at the end of West Avenue. Jim and I would often meet him there when we took a stroll along the dock in the early evening. It was with great sadness that we bade him farewell when, starting to fail, he moved to Florida and one of his daughters. That was in 1971. He passed away there in July of 1973. Back to the appearance of the library. The Children’s Room was just to the right of the main entrance to the building. It was one large room with an alcove to the east. As you entered, you passed my desk that faced into the room. Near the center of the room was a leather settee. Dividing the main room from the fiction shelves was a large, five foot high wooden vertical file, with large drawers. First time I saw it, I knew that it needed exhibits. One day I wandered about town, visiting the liquor, jewelry and newspaper stores. They dredged up some interesting old displays. Rather dusty but still vivid. The liquor posters were a challange, how to get the bottles and mention of the product out without destroying the artwork. But we did it. Mrs. Haff’s mother had been a crusading member of the WCTU. Much later Mrs. Haff traced one of her enterprising relations who had run a most successful still on Fire Island. That first summer reading club the theme of which was the sea, we had a large cardboard sailboat with nets, sails and sea gulls. As before mentioned, the fiction shelves were in the back. Along the other walls, were the picture books, reference books, and Mrs. Haff’s special shelves for the Hardy Boys, Bobbsey Twins, Cherry Ames and all their kinfolk. The little alcove to the east held the non-fiction. As I meander along in these memories, I’ll stop and reflect on some of the people who made a deep impression on me. Two people who became friends of Jim and myself were Neltje DeGraff and John Bates. Neltje had worked as the first librarian when the library was started up over the Brush Block, 90 years ago. Her family was West Sayville Dutch and I formed my first opinion of these people through her. She was honest, steadfast, strong willed and very loyal to her friends. Her father had been killed in a hunting accident when she was young and she saw her mother raise a large family single handed. Neltje became a teacher and spent most of her career in Southampton. She lived in the family home that stood on the bend, the west side of Atlantic Avenue. Neltje grew up just a block away from the Greene homestead on Montauk Highway, the home of John Bates, President of the library Board of Trustees. This home figures in the post revolutionary journal of George Washington that recounts the trip through Long Island that he made, the purpose being to thank those people who had helped during the Revolutionary War. Washington had a bite to eat at the Greene homestead. John Bates was a businessman, who was following in the family footprints. The Green/Greene families were the entrepreneurs of Sayville and West Sayville. Neltje and John knew each other from childhood days. They were very good friends and shared many interests. Having grown up together, same school, friends and experiences, they had many things to talk about. Neither wanted to marry. So they arranged to have what Neltje referred to as “Date Night” each week. Jim and I were invited to several of these. There was a spectacular meal cooked by Neltje, then an evening of classical music, book discussion and poetry recitations. Neltje was an English teacher. It was long after, when I was researching Sayville’s history that I realized what a great opportunity I was given. I was learning local history, first hand. Of the many stories, John Bates told, was that when he was a young organist, he often walked from West Sayville to the Bourne Estate in Oakdale and he would play Bourne’s great organ. One of our very beloved patrons was Kitty Gordon, who had been the star of a Victor Herbert musical. Kitty was British and a lady to her fingertips. She still wore stilletto heels, pancake makeup and gorgeous turbins. She read British mysteries and let us do the walking downstairs to fetch her some new books. Fortunately she was negotiating the mysteries aphabetically. So, we’d look at the books she returned and down we’d go for the next British who done it. Kitty told wonderful stories about turn of the century theater and vaudeville. Years later, when she was in a nursing home, Georgia and I visited her bringing discarded paperbacks. She’d welcome us into her room, where she would tell us that she didn’t let any of the old fogies in. Elinor believed that we should all work to learn our jobs and do them well. As I was in the children’s room, I was sent to take all the workshops given by the New York State Education Department. Many of them were in Riverhead Public Library. Sometimes, Elinor came along, as the children’s room was her favorite and she had and still did tell stories to the children. One day we received the notice that Dorothy Broderick, former children’s librarian at Hicksville, was giving a two day workshop on children’s librarianship. I told Mrs. Haff that I knew Dorothy, having worked with her in Hicksville. Good, I was to take her workshop. But, I told Mrs. Haff, “ Dorothy has some unusual ideas about children’s books.” I was sent and I was proven right. Miss Broderick sent us back to our libraries that first session with the following orders. “Throw out all Bobbsey Twins, and other like series books, they are trash.” Well, I did. When Mrs. Haff found all these books in a heap in the trash, she grabbed them and rushed out to me. What was I doing? Had I lost my mind? I explained my homework. Mrs. Haff explained herself as she returned all the books to the shelf. The next week when I told Miss Broderick what had happened, she apparently called Mrs. Haff. That afternoon when I returned to the library, there was a new bookshelf in the back of the children’s room. It was for special books. I think that you can guess what they were. Dorothy also suggested that book ordering for the children’s room should be done from THE HORN BOOK magazine. Mrs. Haff, very kindly suggested that I use PUBLISHER’S WEEKLY and THE HORN BOOK after that. “Of, course, you’ll find many books listed in both publications.” she said. In January of 1962, the President of the Library Board of Trustees, Ella Emmerich Strong passed away unexpectedly at her home nest door to the library on Collins Avenue, Mrs. Strong was a respected member of the Sayville Community. She had married into an old Sayville family. Born in Philadelphia, she was well educated, studied voice and was a treasured addition to the Sayville Congregational Church choir. She was a past Republican committeeperson and, once in Sayville, joined most, if not all of the service organizations. Mrs. Strong had been President of the Sayville Library Board of Trustees for 31 years when she presided on the Tuesday night before her death on Friday. Therefore, it was no surprize when the library was closed for the funeral. We all marched behind Mrs. Haff, single file, as she walked from the library to the Sayville Congregational Church where we sat, all in a pew, for the service. My memory of Mrs. Strong was of her stopping in to say hello, a small, dignified white haired lady, with a shopping cart. The children’s story hours were a most important event in the library week. As I recall, I would sit on the sofa in the children’s main room, the children fanned out around me and read three picture books, played a finger game or stretched between the books, and have a little conversation here and there. These conversations were often initiated by the children. They shared bits and pieces of what was going on in their families. On occasion these disclosures were a bit sensitive. Fortunately the mothers, and an occasional father spent the time in the adult room or in the staff lounge for coffee and discussion. In the summertime, we had both picture book and older story hours. In 1962 we had a Mrs. Jahnke, who Mrs. Haff hired as a professional story teller and children’s librarian. She was here for the summer programs. At the same time, two other staff members, Dot Rampe, white haired, soft spoken and warm, everyone’s favorite grandmother; and Ann Hubbard, dark haired, one of the gang, with a great sense of humor that appealed to both preschooler and preteenager. The story hours were full. We selected short books, loaded with action and colorfully illustrated for the pre-schoolers. Such as Flack’s, ANGUS AND THE DUCKS. I would read the story, the children would help with the sound effects. When Angus said, “Woof”, we all said woof. There was a book that encouraged story tellers to ask their audience to “Help Tell the Story”. It combined sound with movement. Both of these suggestions kept the story hours far from dull. Much later, when I began my trips into Great Neck with Dagmar Lange and Ginny Haskell to Carol Fijan’s puppet studio and classes, I learned the rewards of playing to an audience and soliciting their participation. This was something, along with timing that I learned to use effectively. As much as I loved the story hours, they did not always go smoothly. There were the identical twin boys who deeply resented being forced to endure other people. When their mother and sister pushed them into the room, they plunked themselves down, backs to me and faced the door. Arms crossed across their chests, sitting so close to one another that their bodies touched, they were set like springs to bolt for the door and fly through it after the final, “The End” was read. There were complaints that the story was too long, too short, the ending was not the same as their parents read, and at the top of the list, “Why does Mrs. Currie read so many mouse stories?” Because Mrs. Currie likes mouse stories, was my answer. There were visits by the children from the Town Vacation Camp being held at the Gillette House when their bathrooms broke down. Mrs. Haff made it plain that if they used the bathroom, they had to put an appearance in at the story hour. This led to some rapid entrances and exits, but it also brought us new children in August when the Town Program was finished. Mrs. Jahnke was a nice woman, undoubtedly very talented, but that summer she had several strikes against her. She was suffering from a recent, very bitter divorce, she was feeling her age, and her heart just wasn’t into the Sayville Library Summer Program. From the first of those older story hours, we ended carrying most of the hour. Mrs. Jahnke chose the time shortly before the start of the story telling to have her hair done. That first afternoon, the children and I waited 10 minutes before beginning. We sat in the small courtyard, behind the new addition. I began the first story. It was one I had heard Dorothy Broderick tell, “The Blacksmith and the Devil.” Thank God for Dorothy, Kathleen Sheehan and the annual C.W. Post Story Festivals. I had absorbed several of these presentations, and had tapes of some of them. Mrs. Jahnke arrived with only 15 minutes left, she told her story, leaving no doubt that she was very proficient and ended the session. After that, Mrs. Haff apparently had a heart to heart talk with her, as from that day on, she was there by quarter after the hour.I started the stories with a long picture book for the youngest, a finger game and a stretch. That summer turned out to be a very good one, all the programs fared well. I learned a lot from watching and listening to Mrs. Jahnke. Not long after I had joined the Sayville staff, there was a movement to start a Suffolk County Library System. Elinor Haff was one of the prime movers of this. Walter Curley, a delightful man was sent to organize the System and to be the first director. No easy task when you consider the fact that he had to convince a number of diverse library directors and boards that there was a need for this service. Elinor asked me to attend these meetings with her. I couldn’t understand why she wanted me, but that soon came clear. After the meetings, we would go to lunch and there discuss what had taken place at the meeting. Some of these meetings, most held at the BayShore Library until System Headquarters were purchased and opened, fell on days that Elinor could not get away. These I attended, note book in hand. Afterwards, I transcribed my notes, gave them to Elinor and we discussed them. Later, as a Library Trustee, I looked forward to meetings at the System. It was like coming home. In the Spring of 1963, Blanche Schmidt and I were attending classes in Riverhead Library sponsored by the Suffolk County Library System. These consisted of three classes taught by the Department Consultants and concerned Reference Work. The first was in Adult Services, the second, Young People and the third in Children’s. That was the one I enjoyed most. Taught by Kathleen Sheehan, a wonderful, charming lady with a lilting Irish way of speaking. I was already meeting once a month with her and the other Children’s Librarians at the System Headquarters. This was a wonderful opportunity for us all to exchange ideas, catch up on the news of the libraries and select new children’s books to read and review. It was out of these meetings that I started to teach a course in Puppetry in the Library, at the System Headquarters for the Children’s Librarians. Both Dagmar and I demonstrated our story hour techniques, and story telling. “Kit” and I used to exchange our time, she judged a few contests for me, and I was one of a panel of judges at the System, judging storytellers. Kit’s sister, who taught Children’s Literature was also a judge. Her Irish brogue was even more charming than Kit’s. I didn’t want her to stop talking. Kit really gave me a lot of her time. Because I was trying hard to learn, she sat down with me and told me just how to conduct a summer reading club. I also, outlined the other activities I had planned for the summer. She was mostly concerned about my ability to do it all. But in those days, I was full of energy, full of ideas and anxious to put them in practice. That summer, I had the programs to myself. I began finding new formats, guests, themes, and of course, new stories. However, children love the old favorites and we always had them. I told the story of the “The Dawn Treader” by C.S. Lewis. Lewis’s books are very exciting and they lend themselves to serialization. You left them with a cliffhanger for the next session. That worked well and the other Narnia books by Lewis began to fly off the shelves. Another summer I invited the couple from the pet shop on Railroad Avenue to bring a pet a week. When it was a puppy, we read dog stories, sang songs about dogs, etc. Sadly this couple had a fire and were burned out of their apartment over the store. He was hurt trying to save their dog. That same summer, I had a pet show. The children were very receptive to the idea having enjoyed animals all summer long in the story hours. I invited the dog warden to act as a judge. I thought that this would give the children a chance to meet this gentleman, and perhaps talk to him and see him as a friend. Wrong! The Warden came wearing his revolver. This threw the children into a panic. Mrs. Haff summoned our judge into her office. When he and Mrs. Haff emerged later, there was no revolver evident. Summers in the children’s room consisted of a reading club made up of children who promised to read ten books, a certain number of them about the summer’s theme, and report about them. We had extra help summers, usually college students who listened to the children’s reports. I also listened. There were craft workshops, the story hours and the puppet workshop. This was a very busy, sometimes hectic time, but a lot of fun. The children’s room completed the summer with a party at which the children who had met the requirements were awarded their Reading Club diplomas. There was entertainment, refreshments, as well as the ceremony. Once the Puppet Workshops were initiated, our own puppeteers replaced magicians, actors, and clowns as the entertainment of choice. The Reading Club had a theme each year. My first summer directing the activity, the theme was the sea, particularly our own Great South Bay. The children focused on books about the ocean, boats, pirates, sealife, etc., etc.. That summer’s year end party boasted a maritime costume contest, and a marine play acted out by some of the children who visited the library the most. Barbara Travis Stahlberg, Mrs. Jahnke, Mrs. Haff and the support of the other staff members pulled it all together. These parties, due to the lack of space in the library, were held across the street in the United Congregational Church Hall. That first party started off well planned, Mrs. Haff and I had ordered the ice cream to be delivered by Carvel, the children were well rehearsed for the performance, and other than being a bundle of nerves, I was ready. When we got to the church hall, the doors were locked and the children in costume, sat with Mrs. Campbell, who had been such a help through the summer, waiting. We all waited, until Mrs. Haff returned from getting the juice and ice cubes. We had not not wasted any time and were practicing out on the church’s backlawn. Elinor headed for the minister’s home, where she picked up the key. The Reverend Mr. Hauske had just returned from Washington, D.C. having taken part in a Peace March. The Simmons children, two girls and a boy stayed with us for the remainder of the morning, helping with the set up. At 1:30pm the festivities began. The staff had put a treasure chest together, Mrs. Haff had provided the chest, we furnished candy in the form of money and a miniature orange crate full of tiny orange balls to be awarded at the party. The costume contest was a great success, judged by Miss Belinda Edwards and Miss Marion Hoag. They awarded the girls prize to Jennifer Alden who was attired as a gorgeous lobster, the boy’s prize went to Sal Trotto’s pirate who wore his ship over his shoulders. The costumes were wonderful. Mrs. Polumbo had dressed her four little girls in green bathing suits with green crepe paper trailing them to suggest seaweed. Pat Ragno came in green tights and top with green and gold flippers, a perfect mermaid; then there was King Neptune in a white gown and gold tiara. Miss Captain Kidd was in a long dress with a fur cape, then came a wild assortment of pirates. The winners were photographed by a Newsday reporter. .Miss Hoag, who owned the Suffolk County News felt badly that, her newspaper had not sent someone to cover the affair. Mrs. Jahnke did not fare too well at the Summer Party. I believe that was her last day. She spent most of the morning setting up a display. She tried to help backstage during the performance. How she did it I don’t know, but I heard yelling, went to look and there was the lady tangled helplessly in the stage ropes, her feet off the ground. At another time, Barbara Travis (Stahlberg) and I were holding a sheet with scenery painted on as Mrs. Jahnke made an announcement. The record stuck and drowned her out. Mrs. Haff’s mother, Bertha Huntoon enjoyed the program. Bertha was the greatest fan of the children’s programs. Mrs. Haff was very pleased with the outcome, which made the staff proud. The summer was successfully over. Another summer, the summer we acquired our tape recorder and were making great headway, taping both the Book Discussion Groups and the music and sound effects for the puppet production, we received a great blow when we opened the library only to find that someone had beaten us to it, and walked away with the tape recorder and all the tapes. We were only days away from the end of summer party and performance. No music and no sound effects. The puppeteers were broken hearted, all their work was gone. But, the show went on, and it was good. I can’t forget the puppets in the library, I’d always loved puppets, and when I met Dagmar Lange, a wonderful German lady who was very gifted in that line, I had to try. Dagmar performed, and conducted puppet workshops in the Islip and later, East Islip libraries. She directed the children’s rooms at the same time. My first attempt was sad, but an artistic mother from Lake Ronkonkoma, Lois Watt enrolled her children in my summer puppet workshop. Thank goodness, she also lent her talents. We staged Kahl’s hilarious, THE PRINCESS BAKES A CAKE. Lois, who was also an historian and wrote a column about that history in the local Ronkonkoma newspaper, helped the children and me, make the puppets, scenery and create the characters. Mr. Ortel made the standing stage. It was wood frame, cardboard, with wallpaper covering. Lois made the black scrim, (curtain). The day of the performance, the children carried the stage across Middle Road to the Congregational Church auditorium. One child stood inside the stage, supporting the center, while bobbing in and out of the curtain, waving and smiling at motorists. The time we were at the temporary quarters on Railroad Avenue, we were visited by Ginnie Haskell, a Bayport resident, who I had met when I was working in West Islip. She and her friend, Gloria Van Cassel, past president of the West Islip Library Board of Trustees, were studying puppetry with Carol Fijan in great Neck. They wrote their own plays, and performed locally. Ginnie invited Dagmar and I to meet Carol and ride along with them. Dagmar and I did do this. We studied with Carol three years, attended Puppet festivals, became charter members of the Puppet Guild of Long Island, members of the National Guild and performed together in schools and libraries until Dagmar died, in the 1970s. Our Sayville Puppeteers performed for at least three, if not four years. Summers we performed for the Reading Clubs, End of the Summer Party. Some of the children, like the Hunters, stayed with me for many of these sessions. They produced at least three Punch and Judy shows, as well as smaller performances during the winter months. We wrote or rewrote scripts to fit our group, made our own scenery, made the puppets, worked on the lighting, sound, (recording the background music and sound effects), rehearsed and, of course, performed. One of our winter plays was the THREE BILLY GOATS GRUFF. When it came time to make the puppets, the children had quite a debate on what materials to use for the goats. Mrs. Huntoon came to the rescue by donating an old fur coat. The thing I remember most of the episode is the fur, we had it flying all over the place. But the goats became a reality, and the evening the children performed, Mrs. Huntoon sat directly in front of the stage and she said loudly, “My old fur coat never looked so good.” Afterwards, she took me aside and explained that the reason she laughed so much, and she really did, was that one of the children had her hand in her puppet in such a way, the the goat appeared to be expecting. This might have been considered normal except that the puppet in question, was the Father Billy Goat Gruff. Joey, the clown, was my favorite puppet. Joey started out puppet life as the clown in Punch and Judy. In fact, my first puppets were the cast of that show. At the same time I was making these puppets, I was also studying the age old script, several versions actually, and adding my own characters. These puppets were also larger than those I made later. The reason being that Punch and Judy was to be performed outdoors, so had to be large enough to be seen by a crowd of people. I made Punch, Judy, Joey the Clown, The Dog, The Hangman, The Devil, Pretty Poll, (she turned out to be pretty hideous), The Doctor (He later became Professor Pott), The Jailer and my additions: Mr. Beep the spaceman, Beverley Bug, and Tantalizing Tessie. My favorite performance of Punch and Judy was done up at MacArthur Airport at the TriCentennial with Norman DeVenau as the barker. I have it on video tape, and I laugh everytime I watch it. In fact, I find it hard to believe that mine is the hand in the puppets. So, there I was with all these puppets. I looked them over trying to decide which puppet would be best for the storyhour. At first I thought that I’d take a different one each week. But then I looked closely at Joey. I guess we bonded, because he seemed to tell me that he was coming and that he wanted to help tell a circus story. So, along he came in his own carpet bag. I laid him face down on his book. In this way, I could put the bag on my lap, unzip the bag, put my hand in as I talked to the clown, tickle him awake, and have him climb out of the bag. He’d wave at the children, reach down and get his books, then realize that all those children were looking at him. With new children, he’d hide his face, play a peek game with the book until everyone was laughing. The children would make him at ease. His was the final story of the session. The children looked forward to him, as if he was an old friend. The “old friend” theory proved true, when at one time I had to paint his nose. It had faded, was chipped, and all around grimey. He’d been kissed so many times, he was probably a health hazzard. I always used oil paints on the puppets. Joey’s nose was red, and red is the slowest drying of the colors, as a result, it took a month for Joey to return. In the interim we welcomed Beep, the cats Bee Kee and Boo, and finally Ringo, the sad clown, who announced that Joey was returning from his visit to the Barnum and Bailey Circus then playing at Madison Square Garden. One little fellow, all excited shouted out, “I saw Joey at the circus and I waved to him. And, guess what? He waved back.” When Mrs. Haff was planning the “big” opening for the new library, each of the staff was assigned a duty. When Elinor got to me, she smiled and announced to all, Connie has the easiest assignment, she’s doing something simple like Kukla, Fran and Ollie in the new children’s gazebo. Well, I darn near choked. I could just see Carol Fijan’s expression, when she heard about this. But it was a success, (certainly the acting was not of Burr Tilstrom’s calibre, but our picture appeared in the SUFFOLK COUNTY NEWS. The children and parents talked to the puppets, the puppets talked to them. The picture in the newspaper was of the stage and the puppets, now how could that go wrong? Working at the circulation desk was a great way to get to know the patrons. I usually worked there on Wednesday nights, if they were short a person and nothing was going on in the children’s room, or in an emergency. It was while working at the circulation desk that I met Mr. Flocken, who appeared very gruff and tough but turned out to be a “pussy cat” and a number of patrons, who were living in boarding houses. These souls had been “dumped” in Sayville from Institutions by New York State. Some were truly lost, such as the man who came in with a radio. He sat at one of the tables in the adult section and proceded to take the radio apart. Just as Mrs. Haff came in for the day, the man began to cry, or rather to sob. “Go up and see what’s wrong, Connie,” she said. I did. He couldn’t put the radio back together. When I reported this fact to the Director she said, “You were a Ham Radio Operator, put the radio back together, I’ll take your place at the desk while you do it.” “I may have had a license to transmit and receive, I answered, but I haven’t got a clue how to do that.” Mrs. Haff grabbed a paper bag and carried it up the stairs to the adult room. “Oh, dear, she said, Now don’t we have a problem.” She swept all the pieces into the bag and smiled at the little man. “What we need is a book about putting radios together, Mrs. Currie will find one for you.” Our patron wiped his tears and looked at me hopefully. I found a book on fixing radios. It was filled with schematics. He opened it up and spent the rest of the day studying it, the bag of parts in his lap. I remember “one” crisis when Mrs. Haff was absent, it had to do with the delivery of furniture for the children’s room. It was at least a month late. When it finally came, the delivery man proceded to bring the gigantic boxes up to the front door on a dolly and leave them there. When I asked why he didn’t bring them in, I was told that that was not in his contract. “But we are all women, and handling boxes of this size would be impossible.” I said. “Sign here” he answered. I did. He left. When Mrs. Haff returned, negotiated the boxes and entered the library, Her first words were: “Why are those boxes out there?” We explained. Mrs. Haff went into her office. Twenty minutes later, Peppard and Van Emmerik moving men arrived. They made short work of bringing the boxes in, removing the crates and assembling the furniture. While this was all taking place, Mrs. Haff had a very interesting conversation with the furniture company. As the patron registration file was getting very crowded and tight, it was hard to look for a particular card. So, it was decided that we should go through them. Elinor couldn’t remember if this had ever been done before, certainly not in her time. We began in the mornings before the library opened. First we read our shelves, then we attacked the registrations. This turned out to be one of the most interesting things we ever did. Mrs. Haff would leave her office door open during the process. Better to answer questions. Many of the cards belonged to people we saw at least once a week, they immediately were considered active. However, when one of us came to a name that we weren’t sure of, we’d call out Mr. -----? Mrs. Haff would answer with, “Oh, he had the lovliest funeral!” Mrs. -------? “Have I never told you about her?” came the reply. “She --, this continued for more than a week. By the time we got to the final Z, we knew most of the history of Sayville’s citizens. Our daily routine began with each staff member reading and straightening their assigned shelves. If there was to be a Staff Meeting, that was held instead. Most mornings the work was light, as we had run around the night before, just before closing, picking up and reshelving books that had wandered out of place. This appeared to be an efficient system. Occasionally there was a glitch, such as the time Ada Kaler was reading her shelves in the basement, and put her hand on a set mousetrap. Fortunately it missed closing on her fingers. Of course, Dr. Lerner was just a few houses east of the library, so help would have been near. Our patrons, particularly the younger citizens of Sayville, liked to keep us honest. They stuck wads of gum, glue and other items with interesting textures on or under the shelves. High shelves were always a hazard for the physically challanged, who could not easily see what had been placed up there. (Such as the mousetrap.) Fortunately Mrs. Haff kept a book in her office that addressed removing odd substances, first aide, etc. Ada Kaler and Jo Celander often bemoaned the fact that it did not talk about battle wounds. The Sayville Library in the 60s was truly a hub of the Community, in that a goodly percentage of the residents arrived at the circulation desk at one time or another. Anyone interested in the “hot topics” of the times, would surely find out there. Just ask the desk clerks, they knew. Since Sayville was a tourist mecca in the summer, and had been since the 1860s, we welcomed a host of interesting people. The staff looked forward to the first summertime visit of many of these patrons. If one didn’t show up, we were alarmed. “Where is -----?” On Friday, November 22, 1963, I was working with a 2nd grade class of very energetic children when I was called to the phone. “It’s your mother, and she sounds as if she’s been crying.” I hurried to talk to her, and she was the first to tell us that President Kennedy had been shot. The library was very quiet for the remainder of the day. Few people came in, and those who did were silent. Finally, around 1:15pm we found out that our President was dead. At the time of the funeral, I put up a display of books and photos of the late President. In doing so, we all shed more tears. On December 23rd of ‘63, F. Palmer Haff, Elinor’s husband was in a bad automobile accident. A Friday night, and Jim and I passed the accident on our way shopping. I had thought that I recognized Mr. Haff’s car, but then we weren’t sure. He had broken his nose, had multiple facial cuts and bruises, enough to put him into Brookhaven hospital for awhile. We felt very badly for Elinor, hers was a sad Christmas. As I look back in my journals, 1961 thru 1968, I see that I wrote about a number of people I looked forward to seeing. One of these entries read: Yesterday Mrs. Limouze, the French teacher at Adelphi came in to return a book. She is little, dark, with big brown eyes and is very peppy, and ever so enthusiastic. She has been in this country on and off for six years, and is going to summer school in Vermont after this term. (1964). “My artist friend, Mr. Albertzaard, he who has been so wonderful with the children. brings artwork in for them to see. His tapestry was absolutely gorgeous. When he came in today, I was delighted, as he has been missing for at least six months. Well, he has been in France, Belgium, and Germany visiting art centers. He delights in bright, vibrant colors and told about Russian icons. I’d never thought much about them, but when he finished, I looked up and borrowed a book on them.”(1964) Dr. Bard, the dentist who lived and had his office next to the Sayville Post Office, was another fascinating and accomplished person. He was Mrs. Haff’s dentist and when I developed a bad toothache she called him and sent me over. Dr. Bard was born in Hungary and came to this country as a young man. He had the most fascinating stories to tell. When he first came to the U.S., he lived in New York City and knew Bela Lugosi, who was trying to find work in the theater. While in the Service, he worked on Eleanor Roosevelt’s teeth. He knew the Gabor sisters and used to visit their family home in Hungary when he paid his native country a visit. Dr. Bard told me about a friend of his who worked with Rodin and who posed for the sculptor’s “Hand of God”. Dr. Bard was a musician, and when my Jim had his BagPipe Band at the VFW on Lakeland Avenue, he invited the doctor. Dr. Bard was delighted to have the band play, for him. In his last years, he translated the works of a famous Hungarian poet. Just before he died, I visited him on Greene Avenue where he autographed a copy for me and for the library. Two of my favorite people were the Smith twins, Bailey and Elward. I was later to discover how very much they were Sayville, having been born and raised here. They were both great readers with wonderful dry senses of humor. Elward opened a book store in the nearby, Brush Block, He called it the “Book Case.” I frequented the store both for the library and myself. Elward kept his shelves well stocked, and purchased a number of unusual, but very interesting titles. Valdine Plasmati, a children’s author, worked with Elward. At the time, both Elward and Valdine were members of the Sayville Historical Society, an organization that was to become a major part of my own life. Elward was a font of information and a great help in the book selection for our discussion groups. The criteria was: fits the theme, is in paperback, (if you read the book and discussed, we gave it to you.) and it must be considered literature. For that reason, most of our selections were classics or had won a major award. My first theme for the older (then Junior High) students was, disasters. Among the titles were HIROSHIMA, THE BRIDGE OF SAN LUIS REY and A NIGHT TO REMEMBER. The young people liked the books, but what really kept them coming each week, (they were mostly girls) was my co-leader, Dr. Pasfield. Dr. Pasfield taught chemistry at St. John’s University, had a large family, was a model member of St. Ann’s, and from the mouths of the girls, he was gorgeous. In 1965, the Library Board of Trustees voted to have the Reuben Edwards house razed and build a new and modern structure in its place. Carl Stoye was the architect. His father had come to Sayville from Germany around 1912 to work at the Telefunken Wireless Station in West Sayville. There had been some discussion about buying the piece of land just east of and adjacent to the library that held the Dr. Robinson house. This was a great old place, barn red in color that had originally stood in Bayport and had been moved to Middle Road, Sayville. The landowner put a very high price on the land, even after the house burned to the ground. That option was abandoned. There was no way that we could continue in the building while the work was being done, so it was decided to rent the old telephone building on Railroad Avenue and set up there for the duration of the building process. This proved to be quite an operation. The Board hired Peppard and Van Emmerik, local movers to move the books and necessary equipment to the temporary library building. Before that, we encouraged our patrons to take out as many books as they wished and return them either to Railroad Avenue or our re-opened building. This was in the hope that we wouldn’t have so many books, magazines, records, etc. to move or place in storage. Many books did go that way, so many that our clerk in charge of overdues had a continual headache wondering if they would ever come back. The big M day arrived. Peppard and Van Emmerik sent people who packed books as we removed them from the shelves in order. The boxes were carefully marked. At least a quarter of the books were packed away to be stored by the movers. There were some items that we agonized over, one such thing was the cactus plant that stood by the children’s room entrance. Oscar was a favorite of mine. He stood five feet tall in his pot, and had small branches along his shiny green trunk. Every Christmas, I had the children make paper ornaments that we hung from his branches. Mrs. Haff didn’t approve of the ornaments, but when the children showed her how much they liked to see friend cactus joining in the holiday cheer, she relented. “Oscar” went to a local nursery to be stored for the Grand Opening. Sadly, when he was returned to us, we discovered that he had been laying on a shelf on his side, and had developed a thick scar on that side. I put him back where he had been, the wounded side to the wall. On the day we finally completed the packing and moving and arrived at our destination, the staff uttered a communal groan. The building was narrow. With shelving up, circulation desk in place, we were packed in like sardines in a can. It was bad enough with just the staff, but when the public began to arrive, it was horrendous. Ann Hubbard was our first casualty, when she walked behind the circulation desk, tripped over the fire extinguisher and found herself, the walls and the desk covered in white foam. Our feeling was that we were owed battle wages. However, the patrons took it all pretty well. They missed books that would normally have been available, but after all, it wasn’t going to be forever. The most memorable day of our stay on Railroad Avenue was, without a doubt, the day the lights all over New York went out, November 9, 1965. I was upstairs in what was the children’s room. It was getting dark outside. All of a sudden, with no street lighting, let alone interior lights, it was awful. I slowly negotiated my way to the stairs, carefully sat down on the top step and bumped my way down, listening to the voices downstairs. Later that night, when the stories began to come together, we realized just what a disaster we had witnessed. Thank God, I could get out, what about the people trapped in elevators? It was sad to see the old Reuben Edwards house collapse. It had stood a long time. Those walls had seen a lot of Sayville history both in and out of its walls. Years later, when I joined the Sayville Historical Society and learned about the Edwards family, the old sadness returned. I had walked the floor boards of that house five days a week for over a year. Interestingly, when we returned to the new building, it was often my job to switch the lights in the main room on first thing in the morning.. That sudden burst of lights seemed to bring about a series of creaking and squeaking noises, that gave me chills. I often wondered if these were the voices of those who had walked the area before us. We were busy with the routine of the desk on Tuesday morning, April 25th, 1967. A school day, it was fairly quiet. When one of the women, shouted, just as the fire alarm sounded, look at the flames, they’re way up in the sky. We stood, looking out of the windows in front of the main desk, and watched, what we later learned was the complete destruction of St. Lawrence the Martyr Roman Catholic Church. Built in 1896, this beautiful Gothic Church, with its all white altar, was spectacular. As patrons began to come in, many of them crying, we heard about the tragedy. The facade of the rectory was also destroyed. This building designed by Sayville’s favorite son of the turn of the century, Isaac H. Green had been made to blend with the church. Shortly after this fire, the flames came closer to us. One of my favorite Sayville organizations was the the Sayville Musical Workshop, an amateur group that had begun in 1950 performing operettas. When I got to know them, in the 60s, they were staging two productions a year. One of these would be a musical, the second, a drama or comedy. Jim and I loved the productions of HARVEY and THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER. Admittedly, we had friends starring in both. The Sayville Library’s own, Doris Kennedy’s husband, Tim Kennedy was in Harvey, and my friend Jean Perry of St. Ann’s, husband, Richie Perry was outstanding as The Man Who Came to Dinner. Through the years, they had actors who went on to some fame. In the mid 60s they were making and storing scenery in a barn, loaned to them by the Foster House. This barn stood in back of the Foster House, and across the street from the library. At 1:40am, on a Friday morning in May of 1967, the barn burst into flames. When we arrived at work that morning, the barn was a charred disaster. We heard about the hard work our firemen put in, training the hoses on the side of the barn closest to the library, therefore preventing the fire from spreading across the street. Stored there was the scenery for KISS ME KATE, the new show that was to open the following week. We cheered at the opening, we knew how hard the players had worked to recreate all the lost scenery. In April of 1968, Jim and I were awaiting the birth of a child that was to be ours. The library staff had gone the whole route with us, and were also awaiting the call. On April 9th, I was in the pre-school story hour when the call came. Georgia Crawford took it, and I’m told started to cry. When the story hour was over, she was waiting at the door of the gazebo as we all came out. “You have a little girl, she told me. She was born a few hours ago. When Georgia and I returned from lunch that afternoon, Mrs. Haff told me that she had to talk to me in the staff room. She seemed very bothered about something. When she led me into the room, there was a shout. All my good friends were there. I couldn’t believe the wonderful shower they had put together. That was my last day as an employee of the Sayville Library. When Mrs. Huntoon died in 1969, I was asked to complete her term on the Library Board. Gil Bishop was president, Jane Hoag, secretary, John Poole and Mr. Anderson were trustees. So began my 25 years on the Library Board.
Respectfully,
Constance Gibson (Connie) Currie |