Traveling Vendors

[Eddie Acunzo]

Do you remember:

The Italian fruit peddler who came with the horse-drawn wagon and would advertise his wares in song. "Cherrriees, Rasberrriiiess, Mulberrrrieeess!"
Your mother would yell out the window "How much a pound for cherries?" and he's weigh them up on a scale hanging off the side of the wagon.

Or the guy with the rolling contraption that had something like a potter's wheel inside it. Your mother would give you carving knives and scissors and the guy would push the pedal and sharpen them on the wheel.

Or the old lady who used to sing in the alleys, and tenents would throw change from their windows?

What do you remember?

[Marion Farrell Cronin]

Eddie, would you believe the knife guy with the rolling contraption still comes around! Well, okay, it can't be him because he would be about 100, but it's the same truck. Maybe it's his son or someone who bought the "business."

[Eddie Acunzo]

Marion

That's amazing! I can hardly believe it, it's like stepping back in time.

Eddie

[Rich Burrell]

I remember the accordion player-NOT Frank Truglio- who would play in the allies. There were also itinerent dry goods peddlars who sold towels and sheets, although we never opened the door for them. The worst were the Fuller Brush guys. They'd shove a catalog under the door and return in a day or two to try to close a sale. On one occasion, one guy asked my mother for his catalog back. She told him she'd thrown it out. He told her that it was the property of the Fuller Brush Co. to which she replied that that was a good reason not to entrust it to strangers. He also told her that she could have the courtesy to open the door. Her reply was, essentially, that if she opened the door, he'd find his rear end at the bottom of the stairs. He left with no further urging.

I also recall the Good Health Seltzer truck. For some reason, most of Jewish neighbors bought from him.

[Rosie]

I can remmeber the man that came around selling bleach. Then there was a man that came around to the apt's that sold blankets and other stuff. The fruit and veggies. The man who sold seltzer soda. The milk man.


Rosie

[marie-elena (ferracano) r]

i remember mom buying many different items. we had bleech delivered, as well as the fuller brush man. mom loved his mops & hairbrushes. there was the soda guy. mom had an insurance man come to the house.also milk. how great was cold milk out of a bottle. we had a tin box on our porch. it kept the milk cold.even on the hottest summer mornings. being a seamstress,mom alwys had her scissors & knives sharpened. i believe the best daily truck around was our stevie. where else could you get such delight for 15 or 25 cents. the store ice cream never tasted the same. no wonder why i hate shoping in store. i prefer catalogs or the internet.mom shopped from home. or sent 1 of us.

[Eddie Acunzo]

Two things. We've all referred to the glass milk bottle delivery (and cream) deposited in the little metal boxes by our door sides. Much of the time, and for several years those milk bottles were being delivered by my good friend and fellow Stratton Parker "Murphy" Ohrnberger or one of his cousins, I think it was just the Roth brothers contingent, but it may have included some Diehls too.

The second thing referred to by several folks was the seltzer delivery truck. Like many of you, we used to hide between parked cars until the driver got back into the truck, then jump on the sides and back to "hitch" a ride for free. A group of us did that one time near my building at 1576 Taylor, and as the driver was making his turn onto Tremont, one of the side "passengers" lost his grip, did a back-flip and landed on his head cracking it open like a watermellon. I think Tremont might have still been cobblestone in parts at that time. Anyway my unfortunate friend fractured his skull and knocked himself out. The street was full of adults and sector cars in what seemed like seconds, and all of the free-riders took off like thieves in the night. As I dropped down the alley staircase into my safety zone of the alleys and basements, just before I dropped from sight I heard a sixth floor neighbor scream from her window, "I saw you Eddie, and I'm telling your Dad." I knew I was screwed, but I hid out in the basement as long as I could until my own hunger betrayed me and I went home to one of the top ten beatings of my childhood. Can anyone help me remember who fractured his skull on the corner of Taylor and Tremont? His diving style was very good, probably about a 9, or 9.5, his legs were straight and unbent, he kept his knees together and turned nicely in the air, but his entry was terrible, a COMPLETE ZERO!

[Lydia58]

It's so funny, I remember horse-drawn carts coming down the street selling fruit, vegetables, etc. I once got nipped by the horse as I was feeding him a sugar-cube, I learned you must feed a horse from a flat palm or they will nip your fingers. Whenever I tell people in Long Island about horse-drawn vendors they ask "How old are you?" They can't believe it. It's like the olden days. I'm not even 50! Wouldn't trade it for the world.

[frank]

OK. Here is a trivia question. What was the horse's name????

[Lydia58]

I'm sorry to say, I don't remember the horses name, only that he bit me (not his fault). I'm going to take a wild guess and say his name was Franky.

[frank]

Good try, but that's not right.

[Eddie Acunzo]

Come on, Frank, what was the horse's name?...Eddie

[frank]

Boy, you guys give up too quick! I am too young to remember but according to my Aunt the horses name was Pete. I kind of remember a horse drawn fruit/veggie wagon but I have to credit my Aunt on that one.

[Eddie Acunzo]

Pete rings a bell, sounds right. What's your Aunt's name?...Eddie