1950's Fresno Photos

[Steve H.]

That poor polar bear must have been miserable!

[Steve H.]

Lions, tigers, and bears, and all she wants to see is the pigeon!

[Steve H.]

The exhibits were small, but they fascinated us!

[Steve H.]

The peacocks had the run of the place, and it was a real treat to see one of them spread his fan.

[Steve H.]

Getting ready to go on a long road trip in our 1950 Studebaker Champion. My dad bought it at the factory in South Bend, Indiana (you used to get a big discount for a factory pickup). Trips were an endurance test: No air conditioning, no heating, no turn signals, no radio, vacuum advance windshield wipers...

[Lost Fresno]

Hey Steve, I agree. Members need to start stepping up and sharing their stuff as well. But to me, I can see my family in every one of your family photos. That being said - we need to see more effort from other before dare I say, it is too late to do so.

Theodore Wilhelm
Lost Fresno admin

[Steve H.]

When compared with kids growing up today, growing up in Fresno in the 1950's was like living on a different planet. The old clichés were true: nobody locked their doors, and moms didn't work outside the home. Kids wandered the neighborhood freely (and safely) and television was rationed. You were free to stop by any neighbors house and grab a cold drink or use the bathroom, and you didn't have to knock. My dad's family was back in the midwest for the most part and my mom's was up north of Sacramento. The neighborhood was our family as far as we kids were concerned.

This was a working class neighborhood. We lived next to the corner of Cedar and Princeton, and where McLane High stands today was just a huge vineyard. Pretty much farm land and puncture vines all the way down Cedar to Fresno State, except for Harpain's Dairy. The neighborhood was truck drivers and military people and trades people. Being Fresno, the summers were desert-hot. Beer drinking country in a day before anything but swamp coolers.

One hot day my dad hauled home an old refrigerator. George English from next door and "Cal" Kalkowski from behind us helped him unload it. He took out the shelves and cut a hole in the door and pulled out a lot of insulation. Then, with great reverence, he opened an old cardboard box. Inside was a sparkling jewel: the handle of a "Burgermeister" tap. A friend of his got everything he needed to set up his own half barrel of beer in the garage.

Turns out you couldn't really pour just one glass because of the foam problem, so you had to pour a full pitcher at a time and let the head go down. The pitcher was always full and believe me there was a steady parade of neighbors heading into our hot garage, grabbing a beer and either standing around the front or side of the house solving the world's problems or sitting in a circle in the back yard in lawn chairs bs'ing.

One hot day my dad came home and there was dried-up foam in a very narrow band down the driveway all the way to the gutter. Someone had not shut the tap all the way and the whole damned keg was lost.

Word quickly spread around the neighborhood. We kids stayed quiet and made sure we didn't get in the way. One by one each neighbor came by. Heads lowered. Speaking in soft tones. "Leo, I heard about what happened. I'm really sorry. Let me know if there's anything I can do." I swear every man around us was in very sincere mourning.

This horrible time reminded me of when my grandmother had died. Hell, nobody from the neighborhood came around then. But then, from what I heard, my grandmother could be a real pain in the ass, and that keg of Bergie was good to everyone.

The beer was ultimately replaced, and a smaller, lighter plastic handle was installed...it was less likely to fall forwards of its own accord. "From the Land of Sky Blue Waters."

This is reposted from my blog at insidefood.com
Thanks,
Steve Hoschler

[Steve H.]

When I was born we lived in a row of very small apartments on Home Avenue, near the airport. One one side of us lived Earl and Chloris Church, and on the other Ed and Adah Dodd. When we all moved out of the apartments we stayed very close. The Church's became Uncle Earl and Aunt Chloris. Ed and Adah had a daughter the same year I was born. Julie Ann, who later became Julie Ann Hornback. These are all people that still populate my heart and are, to me, the very best parts of Fresno.

[Steve H.]

Grand Opening

In the 1950's the grand opening of a new supermarket was a big deal, especially for a bunch of 8-10 year-old kids with nothing much to do. The idea of free food and free coke, all within walking distance of the house was incredible. At the corner of Cedar and Shields a new Purity market was opening. We all paraded in. Me, my brother Mark, Bruce, Kevin, Perry and George were in standard Fresno summer attire. Every summer our folks took us down to Moler Barber College and had our heads practically shaved. We took off our shirts and shoes and put on shorts in June and didn't change again (except for roller skating...hard shoes, skate key) all summer long.

The store was incredible. Big. New. Shiny. Lots of balloons, food and soft drinks. And there, in the middle of the front of the store was a huge stack of Sue Bee Honey. On top of the jars of honey was an observation bee hive. It was just like in the Walt Disney nature films we had seen. There was the queen bee and the honeycombs were covered with bees with no place to go.

The glass plates on each side of the comb were secured with wing nut affairs that basically just twisted down to hold the frame of glass. Wouldn't it be funny if all those bees got out? I don't remember who gave it the first turn, but we each walked by and pretended to be looking at the bees and then we would turn one of the seven holders so that eventually, when the last one was turned, the glass front would fall off and hilarity would ensue.

After a few passes there was just one nut holding the front on the hive. This was really going to be something. I think it was Bruce who was the brave one who gave it the last turn. We started to run like hell. Then we looked back. Nothing was happening. The glass front was stuck or something and it wasn't going to come off. Oh, well...we tried.

We went back home and ate a couple of boxes of jello (eating dry jello right out of the box probably explains my teeth today) and then walked back up to the store. The store was closed. The front windows were covered with bees (smashed bees) and there were clerks spraying stuff on them and lots of people walking around with their hands on their hips looking very official.

We really didn't know what to think, but we knew our work here was done, and we went home.[/size]

[Steve H.]

Ed and Adah

In 1949, when I was born, my folks lived in an apartment in Fresno. The Church family lived on one side of us and the Dodd Family on the other. I knew Earl and Chloris Church each unto their dying day, and likewise with Ed and Adah Dodd. I still have contact with Julie Ann Dodd, and until recently lived in our old house at Cedar and Princeton.

Ed and Adah were beer drinkers. Ed only drank Hamms (from the can) and Adah only drank Oly (from the can). Now I don't mean they had a drink once in a while...they were serious beer drinkers. Why once Adah somehow got Ed to sign up for square dancing lessons. At the first lesson they announced that you really had to be on your toes, so it was important to pay attention, and to not show up after you've been drinking. To hear Adah tell it, they were in the front row center, and Ed stood up and said: "That's it. We're outta here." Strange thing, though: they only kept one six pack of each brand in the fridge. Ed was constantly getting in his old Dodge and heading down to the corner liquor store for a re-supply.

We left Fresno for Sacramento on my 13th birthday, so I never got to know the adult habits of the people I knew when I was a kid. When I started traveling in the food business (Durkee), up and down the valley, I'd stop by and visit Ed and Adah in Fresno. They bought our house when we moved to Sacramento, so it was really like going home again. I thought I'd really give them a treat. I'd buy a case of each brand of beer...ice cold...and save them running back and forth to the store.

I brought the first case in and Ed just gave me a cold stare. A fart in church. "Why don't you just set that over there" motioning to a corner near the refrigerator. "Those aren't really cold, let's go get a cold six pack." I couldn't figure out how I had insulted him. He was stone cold silent as we got into his black sedan and backed out of the driveway. No words were spoken on the approximately 1 block drive to the corner of Cedar and Shields. We parked in front of the liquor store, which had a hobby shop on one side and a bar on the other. Without speaking a word Ed opened the door of the bar for me. This was still daylight, around 4 p.m. The bartender didn't say a word either, he just set up a double shot of Old Crow for Ed. Ed downed the drink, paid the tab and we walked over to the liquor store and bought one six pack of beer.

On the way back Ed spoke three words to me: "Never a word."
We made 2 or 3 more trips to the liquor store that night.

The photo was taken after we moved to Sacramento from Fresno. Ed and Adah and Julie Ann bought our house at 2813 North Cedar Avenue. Christy is Julie's daughter.