Main Street – April 15, 1948

By Morris Rote-Rosen

We have heard nothing but praise during the recent Granville band concert at the high school auditorium. It was a well selected and well rounded out program, not too long and yet long enough to show the Granville band at its best. The concert was suggested by those two music masters - Sigrud Rascher and Paul Pelton - who helped to make the program a most enjoyable one. The conducting of "Bill" Corey and the ease with which George Ritchie, master of ceremonies, handled the program, received rounds of applause. Not many places the size of Granville can boast of such an excellent musical organization.

A Whitehall resident, whose name is left out for obvious reasons, was so taken back by the modernly equipped Granville high school building that he stared in wonderment shaking his head. "Whitehall is a larger town than Granville," he said, "yet we have no such school auditorium like you have, and our gymnasium is old and out of date. Our school building cannot be compared with yours." He was then led to the gymnasium door which was swung open to him and his eyes popped. "I still can't understand it, and Whitehall is such a larger town than Granville."

On the gym dance floor, after the band concert, we watched the dancing couples go around and around, some jitter-bugging, others taking it easy. There was a great contrast between the older dancers and the young people - as there always is - to prove that dancing is intended for youth and not for age. Boys and girls locked in each other's arms, glided lazily over the floor, cheek to cheek, whispering secrets in each other's ears, drifting on south clouds of dreamland, while the older couples had space enough between them for a third party, their eyes wandering in different directions as if they were bored.

And while this was going on, we sat on the sidelines of the gym visiting with a friend who was reminiscing of the days of long ago, when Zita's orchestra of Troy played dance engagements in the Granville Odd Fellows' hall. She compared the dignified dances of another generation with the prancing, shaking, jumping, holy-roller, tap-dancing and wrestling jitter-bugs, in which the girl is practically thrown for a loss. "Dancing was different then," she said, "and the ladies dressed differently. Now they dance in dungarees and slacks, but I suppose it is the modern trend." Nevertheless, to us, the jitter-bugs personified youth, vitality, happiness and cheer and we enjoyed their crazy antics.

Roy Potter was the last of the Potter boys, sons of Jonathan and Lucy H. (Stevens) Potter, of whom there were four. The Potter family was well known among our leading families at one time and they are all gone now from Granville. Roy, the youngest in the group, was of a quiet disposition and enjoyed his work as mail carrier in our village for nearly twenty-five years. Retiring because of ill-health Roy put up a game fight, never giving up hope. His hobby was his home and his family. Those of us who knew Roy will miss a good fellow, a fine friend and a kind neighbor.

The firemen answering an alarm to the first grass fire of the spring season, were interested in the explanation. Kenneth Courter, caretaker of the hospital, tried to make for calling out the fire department. "I only burned some papers in the steel drum," said Kenneth, "and all at once the whole patch of grass was on fire." He scratched his head and said: "I can't understand it." And it wasn't but a short time before the firemen were off to the second grass fire of the day, to Dave Beecher's farm, where before the fire was put out, Fire Chief Moloney had to fight off two dogs from trying to chew a flank off one of Dave Beecher's goats.

Decoration Day will soon be here and the Granville veterans, as well as the general public, would appreciate a much shorter program which seems to be getting longer with the years. Have a heart Committee, we want to have lunch before one o'clock ... The many friends of George Fialkovich are happy to see him in circulation after such a long winter's illness .. Roy Gandron, local manager of the A. and P. store in Granville, is a combination of friendly service, courtesy and efficiency. Store managers like Gandron are not a dime a dozen. They are scarce.

The Sentinel "subscriber" who explained the origin of Truthville, is telling the truth, historically, according to tradition. We once asked an old resident from Truthville, the origin of the name and he said: "The old settlers are gone now from Truthville so it is safe to tell you how Truthville derived its name. It was from having the reputation of having the biggest lairs in the town of Granville. But, don't ever let the cat out of the bag. They won't like it." ... Now that the "cat is out of the bag", the story of the hog having the litter of pigs inside the pumpkin can be matched with several stories credited to the old settlers of Truthville. One is about the fox, which tired after being hunted for ten years, captured the hound dog, returned it to the owner, by dropping the dog on the door steps.

From the mail bag: "A friend of mine, Mr. Francis X. Ryan, who formerly lived in Granville, loaned me the Sentinel of March 18, containing the fine article about the One Night Stand Companies. The fine detail covered in the article shows study and research and I have never read a more interesting description. There will come a time, not too far distant, when information such as you have set down will be just impossible to find. Please pardon this method of congratulating you on your most interesting article on a difficult subject. Sincerely, T. H. L." ... Thanks, T. H. L. Watch for an early column on the old minstrel shows soon.

And Wesley Hughes of Middle Granville, who is touring the south, writes from the Middleton Gardens, in Charleston, S. C., as follows: "It is spring in the south and the wisteria, azalea, dogwood, jasmine, roses and irises are in full bloom. These gardens are out of the world. Charleston is a charming old city." ... The fellow who drove his car through a wall of one of the buildings belonging to the local electric light company, on Water Street, must have gulped down something that had the kick of an Army mule. "I thought I hit something," he said the next morning, "but I didn't know what."

John Parry Owens, 80-year old West Pawlet settler, reminded us that he is the last of a group of Welshmen who came to West Pawlet a long, long time ago. There are two other survivors of that group who are living away from West Pawlet ... Eugene Barden and George Gallup, another pair of old timers, were discussing farming. Said George Gallup: "Gene, we can't farm it now like we used to. Times have changed." Replied Eugene: "What? After 72 years of farming experience? The hell we can't." And the two launched into the intricacies in the field of agriculture.

If the Ritz theatre ever advertises the picture "Bill and Coo" drop everything and bring not only the children but grandpa and grandma as well, and give them a joyous entertainment. All the characters in the picture are birds - not a human being in it. And the interesting life in the imaginary village of Chirpendale on which roam hundreds of birds is one of the most remarkable pictures ever produced. And when the circus comes to Chirpendale there are birds, cats and dogs who perform as trapeze artists.