Lakewood Lore

Special words from days of yore stir up excitement

We asked some Lakewoodites fond of skipping down Memory Lane what words were sweet music to their ears when they were kids.

" 'Lets go fishing was' what I always wanted to hear," said Everett Root, an 82-year-old Gold Coaster, who used to wet his line off the breakwall of Edgewater Park when blue pike were still caught there. He also fished the Cuyahoga, that much-maligned ship passage, back in the days when you could see your reflection in the water.

"Let's go to Gray's Candy Kitchen for popcorn" was the sound of music to Helen Stuart, 73.

Grays, in downtown Berea decades ago, was just the right distance away for Lakewoodites who observed the once popular, and now moribund, ritual -- the Sunday-afternoon family drive.

"Though the store is gone now, its celebrated popcorn is still made each July 4th on the grounds of the Berea Historical Museum," Helen noted.

Gray's popcorn machine and soda fountain are now among the museum's artifacts.

Permission to drive the family car was what spelled happiness for Lakewood octogenarian Carlyn Irwin when she was a teen-ager in the 1920s. Her first challenge, at a time when 5 gallons of gasoline sold for a dollar, was a Cole automobile which belonged to her brother-in-law who taught her how to drive.

"It was a long stretch to the floor when shifting gears and braking, and the car had huge tires that today would be on trucks," she remembered.

Carlyn also recalled that her father's first car was a Cleveland, made here. Then he bought a Chandler, and finally a Packard. The industry stopped making Coles and Cleveland's in 1925, Chandlers in '28 and Packards in '58.

Fondest words of long ago for Ray Mylius, 81-year-old retired electrical engineer of German ancestry, were: "We're going to have hasenpfeffer for dinner tonight."

Hasenpfeffer, a flavorful rabbit stew, is still around, but it was particularly in evidence back in the days when there were many more hunting grounds hereabouts, and wild rabbit was a popular provender.

To Robert Hitz, 74, of Warren Road, "There's ice on Lakewood pond -- let's go skating" was a clarion call that could not be denied.

That ample winter ice patch covered a low spot in Lakewood Park, today the site of a ball diamond behind the Oldest Stone House Museum. It preceded Winterhurst but came after the turn-of-the-century quarry skating rink that adjoined the former Maile Brick yards on Victoria between Hilliard and Madison.

Summertime's favorite words for John Gerlach, 64, Lakewood forester and horticulturist, were: "Here's a nickel. Go get yourself an ice cream soda at the C.&H. Drug Store."

C.& H. was situated on Detroit at Wyandotte, across the street from a meadow where bob whites sang and where St. Edward High School was later to be built.

For Virginia Plotz, who lived on Lauderdale, a most welcome alert was: "The Mototeria is here!" This message brought her and her mother running out of the house to shop at a grocery on wheels.

The Mototeria, a converted bus, plied the streets of Lakewood from the late '20s to the early '30s heavily stocked with meats, produce, canned goods and other staples. Its home base was a food outlet on Madison at Atkins.

"It was fun and convenient to buy at curbside, and the Mototeria had everything but the Kitchen sink," Ginny said. "But Fisher Bros. and the other conventional markets complained it was hurting their business. They made such a fuss that Mototeria finally was grounded."

This article by Dan Chabek appeared in the Lakewood Sun Post March 19, 1992. Reprinted with permission.

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