Camden Streets - Grant Street

300 block of Grant Street Click on Imags to Enlarge
	312 Grant Street 1940-1951 Fred H. Hough Jr. & Family Fred & Garnet Hought Esther Hough - Lawrence Hough Roy Hough - Harriet Hough Fred Hough Camden Courier-Post August 20, 1951
	314 Grant Street
	315 Grant Street
	316 Grant Street
	317 Grant Street
HOSPITAL CASES WEST JERSEY James Foster, 2, 757 Division St., laceration of head. Ralph Williams, 28, 413 North 29th St., laceration of knee. Lillian Smith. 17, 1093 Trent road, abrasion of eye. Elwood Brisco, 31, 1133 South 2nd St., laceration of leg COOPER Dorothy Gorman, 2, 507 Division St., contusion and sprain of shoulder. Richard Clark, 17, 327 Vine street, dog bite of leg James Kenney, 3, 718 Carman St., laceration of scalp, Frank Caratole, 12, 210 Senate St., splinter in finger. James Moy, 14, 641 Line St., fractured wrist abrasion of knee and hand. Ernest Vincent, 14, 534 South 2nd St., puncture wound of knee. Ralph Springer, 7, 509 Ferry Ave., laceration of scalp Clement Jones, 4, 1013 Lawrence St., laceration of chin Thomas Wright, 7, 319 Grant St., fractured shoulder. Hilda Fitzgerald. 28, 311 North 3rd St., laceration of hand. John Schulz, 52, 228 North 7th St., chest injuries.	319 Grant Street 1938 Thomas Wright Camden Courier-Post February 16, 1938
	319 Grant Street
	321 Grant Street
	323 Grant Street Photograph Taken March 13, 2012
	325 Grant Street 2011 Gone
	327 Grant Street 2011 Gone
	329 Grant Street 1918 Samuel L. Magill Philadelphia Inquirer October 13, 1918
	329 Grant Street 1924-1956 Harry Kyler & Family Camden Police Department Harry & Martha Kyler Martha Kyler Margaret Kyler Harry Kyler Jr.
	329 Grant Street 1920s-1947 Harry Kyler Camden Police Department Photograph Taken March 13, 2012
	329-331 Grant Street Photo from about 1928
	329-331 Grant Street Photo taken March 13, 2012
	330 Grant Street 1955 Edward J. Fox & Sons 1955 New Jersey Bell Telephone Yellow Pages Ad
	331 Grant Street Undated Photo 1947 2012 Vacant
	331 Grant Street 1947 2023 Vacant Photograph Taken March 13, 2012
	333 Grant Street 1947 2012
	335 Grant Street 1947

400 block of Grant Street Click on Imags to Enlarge
	400 Grant Street 1947
	402 Grant Street
	404 Grant Street
	406 Grant Street
	408 Grant Street
	410 Grant Street 1950-1951 PFC Paul Creitz C Company 180th Infantry Regiment
	411 Grant Street
	412 Grant Street
	413 Grant Street
	414 Grant Street
	415 Grant Street 1924-1969 Stauffer Faber & Family Stauffer & Emma B. Faber Bertha M. Faber Camden Courier-Post May 17, 1969
	416 Grant Street 416 Grant is the house below with orange curtains that escaped fire damage on December 1, 2007
	417 Grant Street
	418 Grant Street 1914-1924 Thomas Burrows & Family Thomas & Emily Gamble Burrows Ralph Burrows (drowned June 1919) Dora Burrows sister-in-law Sarah Gamble Philadelphia Inquirer June 19, 1919 J.R. McDonald - Christopher Moll Dr. WIlliam H. Pratt Byron Street - York Street Thomas Burrows and family had moved to Haddonfield by 1927

	418 Grant Street On December 1, 2007 at 6:40 AM, a fire was reported at 418 Grant Street. Tower Ladder 1 arrived with fire showing 1st and 2nd floor. Battalion 2 transmitted the 2nd alarm for fire extending to the exposures, all searches were negative. No injuries reported. Photo shows 416, 418, 420, & 422 Grant Street. Photo courtesy of Bob Bartosz
	419 Grant Street
	420 Grant Street 1921-1947 James Hughes & Family James & Meva Hughes Lillian Hughes 1952-1962 Anita Coryell December 1, 2007 Photo courtesy of Bob Bartosz
	421 Grant Street
	422 Grant Street
	423 Grant Street
	424 Grant Street 1940 William C.Watkin
	425 Grant Street
	426 Grant Street
	427 Grant Street
	428 Grant Street
	429 Grant Street
	430 Grant Street 1924 Harry Curtis
	432 Grant Street
	434 Grant Street
	436 Grant Street
	438 Grant Street
	440 Grant Street Otto Braun
	442 Grant Street

500 block of Grant Street Click on Imags to Enlarge
	516 Grant Street
	517 Grant Street 1912 Thomas Burrows & Family Thomas & Emily Gamble Burrows Ralph Burrows Dora Burrows sister-in-law Sarah Gamble Moved to 418 Grant Street by 1914
	517 Grant Street
	518 Grant Street
	519 Grant Street
	520 Grant Street 1904-1915 James Orrington Burris & Family Camden Fire Department J. Orrington "Orrie" & Josephine Preston Burris Dorothy Burris- Margaret Burris Camden Daily Courier October 9, 1912
	520 Grant Street 1930 William Hopkins
	520 Grant Street 1937 Anne Ewing McKay Camden Courier-Post April 20, 1937 Loyal Orange Institution
	520 Grant Street 1948 James G. Howland & Family James G. & Lulu Howland Camden Courier-Post July 28, 1948
	520 Grant Street 1967 John Toman James G. & Lulu Howland Camden Courier-Post March 20, 1967
	521 Grant Street
	522 Grant Street
	523 Grant Street 1900s-1916 "Colonel" John Beck Jr. & Family saloonkeeper, porter bottler Camden Post-Telegram March 27, 1906 David Simpson - Charles Eckenhoff Jacob Ripple - Charles Powell Fletcher Bleakly - Gus Thorn Gus Hemple - John Beck Jr. Ephraim Hires
	523 Grant Street 1936 George R. Schultz & Family George & Anna F. Schultz Charles Schultz - Harry Schultz Albert Schultz - William Schultz Anna Schultz - May Schultz Elizabeth Schultz - Helen Schultz Camden Courier-Post September 15, 1936
RUNAWAY ACCIDENT FATAL TO MILKMAN Fatally injured in a runaway accident yesterday, Samuel Saunders, 37, of 523 Grant Street, died at 5.15 p. m. in Cooper Hospital of a fractured skull and. concussion of the brain. Saunders was a milkman and was driving his team on Eighth Street when the horse became frightened, bolted and ran away. The animal raced from Elm to Pearl Streets, where he swerved into the latter street, Saunders losing his balance as the horse swung around the corner. The milkman was thrown from his seat, landing on his head and shoulders, The unconscious man was rushed to the hospital, where he remained in a coma until he died. Police could find no witness to the accident. Saunders is survived by his widow, Nettie; two sons, Samuel and Joseph; a sister, Mrs. Edna Hettie, of Wilmington, Delaware, and a brother, Howard G., of Merchantville. The funeral will be held at 11 a. m. Monday at the funeral home of Joseph H. Murray and Son, 408 Cooper Street, with services in charge of Rev. E. A. Chambers, pastor of State Street M. E. Church.	523 Grant Street 1938-1956 Samuel Saunders & Family Samuel & Nettie Saunders Samuel J. Saunders Joseph Saunders Camden Courier-Post February 3, 1938
SAMUEL SAUNDERS The funeral of Samuel Saunders, 37, of 523 Grant Street, who was killed in a runaway accident on Wednesday, will be held at 11 a. m., Monday at the funeral home of Joseph H. Murray and Son, 408 Cooper Street. Mr. Saunders, a milk wagon driver for Supplee Wills Jones Milk Company, is survived by his widow, Nettie; two sons, Samuel and Joseph; his father, William E. F. Saunders, of 648 State Street; a sister, Mrs. Edna Hettie, of Wilmington, Delaware, and a brother, Howard G., of Merchantville.	523 Grant Street 1938-1956 Samuel Saunders & Family Samuel & Nettie Saunders Samuel J. Saunders Joseph Saunders Camden Courier-Post February 4, 1938
	523 Grant Street 1938-1956 Samuel Saunders & Family Samuel & Nettie Saunders Samuel J. Saunders Joseph Saunders Camden Courier-Post February 12, 1938
	523 Grant Street
	524 Grant Street
	525 Grant Street 19010s-1920s John Wagner & Family John & Catherine Wagner Harry M. Leigh Catherine Wagner Leigh
	526 Grant Street
	527 Grant Street
	528 Grant Street
	529 Grant Street
	530 Grant Street
	531 Grant Street 1941 Daniel N. McLeod & Family Daniel N. & Florence M. McLeod Daniel McLeod Ohrum Farlow McLeod Camden Courier-Post July 23, 1941
	532 Grant Street
	533 Grant Street
	534 Grant Street
	535 Grant Street
	536 Grant Street
	537 Grant Street
	538 Grant Street 1903 George W. Rich & Family George W. & Ella Rich Warren H. Rich Florence Rich Herbert Rich
	539 Grant Street
	540 Grant Street 1930 Michael Clancy & Family Michael & Mary K. Clancy Joseph Clancy Daniel Clancy Mary K. CLANCY, wife of Michael CLANCY, mother of Joseph & Daniel CLANCY. The Family lived at 114 Birch Street in 1910 and 1920. In 1930 they lived at 540 Grant Street. The family owned and operated Clancy's Cafe at 808 Fern Street from the mid-1930s into at least the late 1940s and possibly into the early 1950s. Photo courtesy of Cynthia Ackley Nunn
	541 Grant Street
	542 Grant Street
	543 Grant Street 1890-1952 John H. Stuhlert & Family John H. & Clarinda Weidner Stuhlert Ethel Stuhlert Camden Courier-Post May 14, 1952 John H. Stuhlert
	544 Grant Street
	545 Grant Street
	546 Grant Street 1895 Marshall Updike Philadelphia Inquirer June 29, 1895
	547 Grant Street
	548 Grant Street
	549 Grant Street
	551 Grant Street
	553 Grant Street

600 block of Grant Street
Click on Imags to Enlarge

609 Grant Street

1933-1947 Charles Flippen

610 Grant Street

611 Grant Street

612 Grant Street

613 Grant Street

614 Grant Street

615 Grant Street
.

Camden Evening Courier - January 7, 1928

PARENTS ANNOUNCE GIRL’S ENGAGEMENT

Mr. And Mrs. Harry Fenner, 615 Grant Street, have announced the engagement of their daughter, Miss Rose M. Fenner, to John A. Harrison, 812 North Fifth Street. No date has been announced for the wedding.
Miss Fenner is employed by the Travelers Fire Insurance Company with offices in the Wilson Building.

616 Grant Street

617 Grant Street

618 Grant Street

1941
Mrs. Mildred Burman

Camden Courier-Post
October 23, 1941

619 Grant Street

620 Grant Street

621 Grant Street

1900
Charles H. Beck & Family
Charles H. & Nettie Hartman Beck

Philadelphia Inquirer
January 19, 1900

621 Grant Street

1957-1958 Joseph Packer

Camden Courier-Post
December 15, 1957

John Hoey
Joseph Packer
Russell Young
Linden Street
South 3rd Street
North 4th Street
Arch Street
Kaighn Avenue
West Jersey Hospital

622 Grant Street

623 Grant Street

624 Grant Street

625 Grant Street

626 Grant Street

627 Grant Street

628 Grant Street

629 Grant Street

630 Grant Street

631 Grant Street

1910-1915
William S. Chalfant & Family
nurseryman
William S. & Anna Heacock M. Chalfant
Wilmer A. Chalfant
oilcloth worker
Martha "Mattie" Chalfant
stenographer
Mrs. Sarah Heacock (mother-in-law)

632 Grant Street

633 Grant Street

634 Grant Street

635 Grant Street

636 Grant Street

637 Grant Street

638 Grant Street

639 Grant Street

1910
Fred J. Needham & Family
Fred & Emma Needham
James Needham
Howell S. Needham

639 Grant Street

640 Grant Street

641 Grant Street

George Zeitz

642 Grant Street

643 Grant Street

1914
James Chalmers & Family
manager
James & Florence Chalmers

1947 Joseph Lynski

644 Grant Street

1947
Alvah J. Cox & Family
sprayer
Alvah J. & Gertrude Cox

645 Grant Street

646 Grant Street

647 Grant Street

648 Grant Street

649 Grant Street

650 Grant Street

651 Grant Street

652 Grant Street

653 Grant Street

1940
William Seibert & Family
William & Irene Seibert

Camden Courier-Post
May 4, 1940

654 Grant Street

655 Grant Street

656 Grant Street

1913 Madeline Brion
William May

Camden Post-Telegram
October 6, 1913

Berwick Street
Line Street
North 19th Street
Everett Street
William May

656 Grant Street

657 Grant Street

658 Grant Street

659 Grant Street

660 Grant Street

661 Grant Street

1947 Salvatore DiGenova
grocery

700 block of Grant Street
Click on Imags to Enlarge

710 Grant Street

1947 Robert G. Bozarth
1991 Vacant
Destroyed by Fire July 30, 1991

Blaze damages 6 homes
Camden fire called suspicious

By MAURICE TAMMAN

CAMDEN - At least 12 people were forced from their homes after a three-alarm fire damaged six row houses in the 700 block of Grant Street Tuesday.

Battalion No. 1 Fire Chief Joseph Gfrorer said the fire began in a vacant rowhome at 710 Grant Street at 2:30 p.m. It quickly spread to another vacant house at 712 Grant Street and to two occupied homes at 714 and 716, he said. The fire also leaped across the narrow street, damaging occupied homes at 711 and 713 Grant Street, fire officials said.

The fire was under control by 3:06 p.m. and no one was reported injured, Gfrorer said.

He said the cause of the blaze was being investigated. But, he said, the fire started in a vacant home and "they don't start by themselves. "

Neighbors said the blaze was set. One, who would not give his name, said he saw two young men carrying red and yellow gasoline containers around the building before the fire erupted.

The brick rowhome where the fire started was destroyed. Its roof was gone and a only few charred beams of the second floor hung from the brick shell.

Julia Lebron's home· at 716 Grant Street had some fire damage on the second floor, the windows were broken and many of, her family's possessions were destroyed. She said she and her four children will be staying with relatives on the 400 block of Grant Street.

"I saw the smoke and went inside," Lebron said. "By the time 1 came out it (the vacant home at 710 Grant Street) was totally in flames. It was really quick."

"I am really lucky," she added. One door closer to the vacant houses, at 714 Grant Street, the home was a shambles.

The family refused to talk. Their furniture and possessions lay under a layer of soggy white ash. There were gaping holes in the roof.

As the neighbors swept the street clean, a Camden County Red Cross worker talked with the residents of each home to ensure the families had a place to stay.

Across the street, the second story windows of two homes were smashed and there was some water damage inside. The outside wood trim along the front porches and the window frames were charred.

Mabel Mendez, 29, of 711 Grant Street, said she and her three children will stay in a hotel until she finds another place to live.

Out on the street, Carmen Alicea, 30, swept the ash into piles along the curb near her home at 715 Grant Street. A neighbor, who did not want to be identified, picked up the piles with a snow shovel and threw the debris on the sidewalk outside the two burned vacant houses.

Alicea, whose home was spared any serious damage, said she was cleaning up the street for her neighbors. She said the neighborhood was a close-knit group.

"It was the only place that was safe," she said.

Now, after this fire, she doesn't feel so secure.

"Probably I'll move now," she said, "I'm scared."

710-716 Grant Street
711-713 Grant Street

Camden Courier-Post
July 31, 1991

Click on Images to Enlarge

Firefighters train their hoses on a three- alarm fire in the 700 block of Grant Street. The blaze started in a vacant house and spread to five other homes

Nervous moments: Camden firefighters (above) douse flames as neighbors gather in the 700 block of Grant Street. Carmen Alicea (below) holds her dog Queeny as she watches the fire from across the street. Her house was not seriously damaged.

Click on Images to Enlarge

711 Grant Street

1947 Alfred Santora
1991 Mabel Mendez

712 Grant Street

1947 Joseph Amato
1991 Vacent
Destroyed by Fire July 30, 1991

713 Grant Street

1938 Allen Filer
1938 William Filer
1947 Gladys Filer

714 Grant Street

1947 C.W. Skeets

715 Grant Street

1947 Lester T. Darnell
1991 Carmen Alicea

716 Grant Street

1947 Carl R. Taylor
1952-1963 Leonard J. Boris & Family
Leonard & Lorraine Boris
Linda Boris
Chris Boris
Cindy Boris

Left: Linda Boris (in stroller) and Chris Boris in front of of 716 Grant Street, April, 1956

1991 Julia Lebron

717 Grant Street

1947 Albert Phillips

718 Grant Street

1947 Thomas F. Thompson

719 Grant Street

1947 William Owens

720 Grant Street

1947 James H. Sloan

721 Grant Street

1947 Mrs. Edna M. Young

722 Grant Street

1910
Thomas Earnest Mitchell & Family
Thomas Earnest & Florence Mitchell
Gladys Mitchell

1947 Harry B. Greene

723 Grant Street

1947 Fred Laub

724 Grant Street

1947 Max Koeden

725 Grant Street

1947 Walter L. Phillips

726 Grant Street

1947 Evelyn Ellis

727 Grant Street

1947 Ernest F. Harter

728 Grant Street

1947 Gabriel L. Biagini

729 Grant Street

1913
Mrs. Harriett Reynolds

Philadelphia Inquirer
July 18, 1913

John Harris
John Painter
O. Glen Stackhouse

729 Grant Street

1947 William T. Steel

800 block of Grant Street Click on Imags to Enlarge
	809 Grant Street 1975 Ernest Burrell
	810 Grant Street 1943 Joseph A. Alcorn & Family Joseph & Mary Ann Alcorn William Alcorn Joseph Alcorn Ruth Alcorn
	811 Grant Street
	812 Grant Street
	813 Grant Street
	814 Grant Street
	815 Grant Street
	816 Grant Street
	817 Grant Street
	818 Grant Street
	819 Grant Street 1930s-1940 William Hopkins
	819 Grant Street
	820 Grant Street 1958 Albert J. Otto Sr. Camden Courier-Post June 21, 1958 Camden Post No. 980, Veterans of Foreign Wars Frank Luczkiewicz - Carman Street Edward F. Link - York Street Nathan F. Wolpert - Broadway William R. Pine - Greenwood Avenue William E. Kucker - Morse Street South 6th Street
	820 Grant Street
	821 Grant Street
	822 Grant Street
	823 Grant Street
	824 Grant Street
	825 Grant Street
	826 Grant Street 1969 No Phone 1980 No Phone 1981 Vacant Gutted by Fire September 18, 1981 Further Fire Damage August 31, 1996 Arson Suspected Razed September 2, 1996 Camden Courier-Post September 19, 1981 John J. Giuliano
	827 Grant Street
	828 Grant Street 1917 John McKay & Family John & Rachel D. McKay John E. McKay
	828 Grant Street 1934 Mrs. Mary Alcorn & Family Mrs. Mary Alcorn James Alcorn William Alcorn Rose Alcorn Marie Frances Alcorn Thomas J. Alcorn Genevieve Alcorn Rita Alcorn Joseph A. Alcorn 1996 Vacant Further Fire Damage August 31, 1996 Arson Suspected
	829 Grant Street
	830 Grant Street 1929-1930s Mrs. Mary Alcorn & Family Mrs. Mary Alcorn James Alcorn William Alcorn Rose Alcorn Marie Frances Alcorn Thomas J. Alcorn Genevieve Alcorn Rita Alcorn Joseph A. Alcorn
	830 Grant Street 1955-1956 William J. Hopkins Camden Fire Department
	830 Grant Street 1980 G. White Damaged by Fire August 31, 1996 Arson Suspected
	831 Grant Street
	832 Grant Street 1980 No Phone 1996 Vacant Further Fire Damage August 31, 1996 Arson Suspected
	833 Grant Street
	834 Grant Street 1980 No Phone 1996 Damaged by Fire August 31, 1996 Arson Suspected
	835 Grant Street
	836 Grant Street 1996 Damaged by Fire August 31, 1996 Arson Suspected
	837 Grant Street
	838 Grant Street
	839 Grant Street
	840 Grant Street
	841 Grant Street 1935 Nestor Aalto & Family Nestor & Elsa Aalto Irma Aalto Martha Aalto Elma Aalta
	842 Grant Street
	843 Grant Street 1910s-1920s William H. Kirk Sr. & Family William H. & Nellie A. Kirk William H. Kirk Jr. Thomas Kirk Harriet Kirk Adelbert J. "Duke" Kirk Archibald Kirk
SENTENCED IN SINK THEFT Arrested at Second and Main streets with a sink in their possession, two youths were given suspended six-month sentences yesterday by Police Judge Mariano. The youths, Owen Norris, 19, of 422 Cedar Street, and Richard St. John, 19, of 843 Grant Street, told Detectives William Casler and Harry Tyler they found the sink on a dump.	843 Grant Street 1938 Cyril J. St. John & Family Cyril & Bridget St. John Richard St. John - Vincent St. John Patrick St. John - Regina St. John Leonard St. John - Helen St. John Camden Courier-Post February 12, 1938
3 YOUTHS JAILED Three youths charged with the larceny of 60 pounds of copper from a building at the Highland Worsted Company, Ninth and State streets, were given suspended six-month sentences yesterday by Police Judge Mariano. They are Vincent St. John, 18, of 843 Grant street; Charles Schwartz, 16, of 638 York street, and Edward Sweitanski, 16, of 911 Vine street.	843 Grant Street 1938 Cyril J. St. John & Family Cyril & Bridget St. John Richard St. John - Vincent St. John Patrick St. John - Regina St. John Leonard St. John - Helen St. John Camden Courier-Post February 12, 1938
	844 Grant Street
	845 Grant Street April 15, 1950 Daniel Foote & Family Miss Doris Foote
	846 Grant Street 1914 Mrs. Enoch Champion & Family widow of Enoch Champion Enoch S. Champion & Family salesman Enoch S. & Rose Champion
	846 Grant Street Michael Walsh 1920s-1930s Camden Courier-Post April 3, 1928 Charles A. Wolverton
	847 Grant Street
	849 Grant Street

A Child's Life on Grant Street: Memories of Camden
by Linda Boris

It all begins in a little row house (they call them “townhouses” now) on Grant Street in Camden NJ. I remember my mother telling me once that she and my father paid $3,000 for that house somewhere around 1952, when they married.

I slept in the same bed with my older sister Chris, who was only 18 months older than me, and later, my 5-year younger sister Cindy joined us in a crib added to our bedroom. There were only two bedrooms in the house: One, the front bedroom, where our parents slept, and ours, in the back.

My sister and I liked to look out our bedroom window, which faced the back of our house and from which we could see across the river into Philadelphia. We used to watch the PSFS sign flashing its red neon through the night. (Although my mother claims that building was seen not from our bedroom window but from the bedroom window in my grandmother’s house; such are the imperfections of childhood memory) I remember liking that. It was a little haunting—out there all by itself on top of that tall building standing among all those other tall buildings all lit up after the workers had long gone home from Center City. But, at the same time, it was comforting, because we were safe and snug in our cozy bed in our cozy room and our parents were right in the room next door, or just downstairs watching television. I mostly felt safe. I’m not so sure about my older sister, though. Just before going to sleep, she used instruct me to wake her up if I “heard anything” in the night, right before she’d stick her head under her pillow. Now there were always sounds in the night in Camden: a wailing cat, a fire truck or police car siren, and the seemingly continuous sound, like a clattering or clacking noise, coming from the Hunt Pen factory. I don’t know how my sister breathed under that pillow or how she could sleep at all comfortably that way. I don’t recall how I must have felt about having to be the watchdog, but I don’t remember being bothered by it much. Maybe I felt good knowing that I was probably at least a little braver than my sister.

Play on the neighborhood street often involved sneaking down the alley which ran down the side of the strip of row houses and across the back of the houses allowing access to the tiny concrete backyards. I always liked the sound of our footsteps and voices in the side alley. Because large tall buildings enclosed it on either side, narrowly, an echo would be created by any noise made in that alley. It was kind of like a spooky tunnel without a roof. The alley running behind the houses was not like this, but it was full of interesting things to see. People’s wash hung out on clotheslines, other kids toys abandoned in their yards, interesting curtain pulls. A man we always called “Uncle Charley” who lived next door had these cute little copper teapots for shade pulls. We always liked to look at those. The scariest thing was going down the alley as far as the house where it was rumored an old witch lived. Okay, we made up the rumor, but it took on a life of its own. I remember one of those big multi-room birdhouses (like a big birdie condo complex) in the yard of one of the houses, and I recall it belonging to the “witch” but I wouldn’t swear to it. We would dare each other to go down to the old witch’s house. It wasn’t just a scary dare because of our fear of the necromancy that might be perpetrated on us, but because the house was near the opposite end of the alley and it was a long way back if you had to beat a hasty retreat (which we always imagined we had to do, so we always did.)

We walked to our school (J.S. Read School), which was a few blocks away. When you’re a little kid, it seems longer than it really was. Probably in part because of interesting things that you would find and people you would encounter on your way there and back. I remember one morning there was a dead white cat lying in the gutter. It must have been run over by a car, because one its eyeballs were out and lying in the street next to it. One of the boys along our route to school picked up the cat’s eyeball and chased us girls with it. To this day, although I am a cat-lover, the mere sight of a white cat gives me the creeps.

Because I went to public school and my family was Catholic, in addition to going to mass every Sunday, I had to go to catechism classes in preparation for First Holy Communion. These classes were after school, one or two nights a week, in the Holy Name church schoolrooms. Now it was a slightly unnerving thing for a child of my tender age to walk to catechism alone and into that huge cathedral-like church, up the marble stair along the heavy wooden banister up to that classroom. There would be the nun, back then in full habit with starched white bib and long headdress and wimple. You’ve undoubtedly heard or experienced first hand all the nun stories you can stomach, so I’ll spare you any detail. Besides, I really can’t remember much except the ruler to the back of the hand (only to the bad kids, which I would never be—I wasn’t crazy) and the repetitious recitation, sometimes as a group, sometimes when called on individually, of the memorized answers to the catechism questions. “What is a mortal sin?” “A-- mor--tal –sin-- is –a—dead--ly --sin”. Thanks for clearing that up. More vividly I remember the walk home, alone, especially in winter, because in winter, by the time I got out of catechism, it would be dusk. It seemed as if the street was entirely empty except for my tiny self. My pace was always quicker then and I furtively glanced around me waiting for that stranger to pop out of an alley and kidnap me, or maybe that rocking-chair tiger… who knew? It was always with such a sense of relief to walk into the front door of our house—all warm and smelling of dinner cooking. I had survived another day out in the world alone!

Growing up during the Cold War was strange, only we didn’t know it at the time. It was all we knew. The continual, real threat of an all out, apocalyptic nuclear war with Russia was just something we were born into and had to get used it. My older sister’s habit of burying her head under her pillow at night and asking me to wake her if I “heard anything” was similarly accompanied by her scurrying under our dining room table and putting her fingers in her ears and singing loudly every time a television program we were watching was interrupted by a special report. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, she was 9 and I was 7, so she understood far better than I did what was going on. I think that’s when the “under the dining room table” thing probably started, or at least, reached its peak, with her.

And, of course, there were the civil defense drills. As Billy Joel sang “Cold War kids were hard to kill, under their desks in an air raid drill…” It was sheer lunacy to think that we children might survive the nuclear holocaust if only we got under our desks or out into the hall against our lockers, in time. But there was some feeling of safety and security once the shades were drawn over the windows and we were steadfastly crouched under the metal school desk. I was well trained. Anytime I was outside alone and I heard a siren of any kind, I would press my back tightly against the nearest wall and wait for the wailing of the siren to stop. I started to realize that everyone else around me was just going about his or her business as usual, so I was probably overreacting to a fire siren or something and I stopped doing it. Maybe we all just got complacent.

We were very close to my mother’s parents whom we called Nana and Pop-Pop while growing up. My dad was in the Naval Air Reserve and when he’d go to do his two weeks’ active duty for training in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, we’d all go and stay with my mom in my grandparent’s house which was on Louis Street in Camden where they remained until the city got taken over by the ravages of poverty in the form of crime, drugs, and physical decay. Growing up Polish-American was interesting and a source of great pride today. The neighborhood in which my grandparents lived and the church community of which they were a part was mainly Polish. While we grew up hearing Polish being spoken by our grandparents it was usually when they didn’t want us kids to understand what they were saying. Although food was prevalent in the house of my grandparents, it wasn’t as much polish food as you might think. That was primarily reserved for holidays. There would be the occasional “galumpki” (ground meat wrapped in cabbage and cooked in tomato sauce), fresh kielbasa, and a chicken broth based noodle soup called “kluski and oso”, but generally the Polish dishes were reserved for holidays. On Christmas Eve, when we celebrated the traditional “Viglia” (vigil) where no meat was eaten, the fare was sauerkraut soup, pierogies stuffed with cheese, potatoes, or sauerkraut, and salmon cakes. We would break the bread (“opoetek”) with each other, making a wish as we did so, for the other, such as good health in the new year, or some particular fortune we knew the other was seeking (most of my adult years, my relatives wished for me to find a husband—which should settle once and for all any question as to the effectiveness of that ritual). On Easter, it was hot beet soup into which we put slices of hard boiled egg and fresh kielbasa, beets, and torn up pieces of rye bread. After the soup were ham sandwiches (both red and white i.e., fresh, ham) and an array of deli salads such as coleslaw, potato salad, and macaroni salad. Also at Easter would be the traditional breaking of the opoetek, and the breaking of the hard-boiled eggs with each other (end to end to see whose would crack).

Visits to Nana and Pop-pops often involved a walk down to the corner park (Whitman Park) where we would chase or feed the squirrels despite admonitions of the rabies they carried, and make “daisy chains” from clover flowers. Around the corner on Mt Ephraim Avenue was a bakery where we loved to go and see the Felix the Cat clock on the wall as its eyes and tail switched back and forth from side to side with the ticking of the clock. There we could get cookies, or powdered cream filled donuts that were delicious.

One of the things I remember well from my grandparents’ time living in Camden was the Polish American Citizens Club (PACC). In its hall was held just about every wedding reception I had ever been to as a kid—and probably all the wedding receptions of the members of the local Polish community. If you recall the scene of Michael and Angela’s wedding reception in the movie the Deer Hunter, you have an idea of what those receptions were like. Mostly I enjoyed just going to the PACC with my grandfather on a weekend afternoon and sitting on a bar stool next to him while he had a beer or two and chatted in Polish and English with other bar patrons. I would sip a coke with a cherry in it, or, if I wanted to feel really grown up, a ginger ale, through a straw as I breathed in the aroma of stale beer and played with the pressed cardboard coasters with the Ballantine Beer logo on them.

There are memories that come to me in bits and pieces of the eight plus years of my life in Camden. The music that began the TV show “Sea Hunt” that my father liked to watch. Going with my father to see my grandmother in Ablett Village on Mom’s Bingo nights. “The Late Show” back then didn’t star David Letterman, but rather was a late night movie, that always began with a photo of a clock tower while the music of Percy Faith’s “The Syncopated Clock” played. The red bricked schoolyard ringed by a black wrought-iron fence in which we played tag and dodge ball and other games at recess. Watching fireworks in Pyne Point Park. My sister, Chris, and my cousin Larry and I would lay on our backs in the grass and pretend the sparks from the fireworks were going to fall upon us like tiny arrows of flame. Near Pyne Point park was also the school where we went to line up to get our oral polio vaccine: a sugar cube in a tiny white fluted cup. Visiting Nana and going to Whitman Park and chasing squirrels and making “daisy chains” of clover flowers. The bakery around the corner where the Felix the Cat clock flicked his tail back and forth, back and forth in time to the ticking of the clock as his eyes traveled side to side. The powdered sugar cream donuts were my favorite and the powdered snowflake rolls made delicious sandwiches. Molotsky’s candy store on the corner where my sister one day got a Chunky candy with a tiny white worm in it!

We moved to Cherry Hill in December of 1963 for a better life, more space, and to be closer to my father’s job at the Hussmann refrigerator plant. But I will always remember and treasure my memories of Camden and the little house at 716 Grant Street. streets.

	645 Grant Street Philadelphia Inquirer June 14, 1914

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William Beiderbach - Charles Beiderbach