CHAPTER FIVE—GETTING TO KNOW THE NEIGHBORS AND SCHOOL BUS DRIVERS

    

Old postcard image of Cortlandt Lake, Spy Pond and Cinnabar Ranch buildings.

      Continental Village did not begin to grow in population until 1948 when the developers started to build houses north of Schuyler Lane along Putnam Road. Prior to the building of houses this area was a large open field with some hills and gullies and several horse trails. At the same time a few New York City residents bought small property parcels around the lake and built custom houses. Some of these were log cabins in the pines around the lake, others were brick or stone buildings. Al Lazar built his brick-faced house at the junction of Schuyler Lane and Sprout Brook Road. He was a master plumber and his house had steam heat and radiators with the best copper pipes. He also became the first assistant fire chief in 1951. I remember his son, Myron. I played softball with Myron, Alan Monowitz, Chester Smith, Cliff Holmes, Wayne Matthews and the Kuty brothers in an open field on the southeast side of Schuyler Lane. This was the same area were the contractors stored their lumber, shingles, nails, tar paper, etc.

     My friends and I occasionally "borrowed" some of this building material to build huts in the pines around the lake, and to build tree huts on Gallows Hill. We simply took the stuff we wanted after the contractors stopped work and went home in the evening.

    The first hut Cliff Holmes and I built was a dugout on his dad’s hillside property at No. 242 on Gallows Hill off Sprout Brook Road. (I don't remember the year but Cliff's dad built a nice new home a short distance north of the old Holmes' residence.) Cliff and I dug into the hill and hollowed an area about 6 x 8 feet, installed plywood walls and covered the roof with water-proof canvas. Cliff had a homing pigeon coop nearby, and the pigeons painted our canvas roof white and gray. Adults had their Clubhouse across the lake; neighborhood boys had a meeting place too. We  built a nice tree hut higher on Gallows hill also. It was about twenty feet high, nailed firmly on two large oak tree limbs and connected to a third branch overhead. This tree hut was made entirely of wood planks and tar paper. It had a pot belly stove, and carpet covering all but the trap-door entrance. On a limb near the entrance we placed a wire snare trap to catch raccoons intent on home invasion.

     We built another hut in the pines between Tryon Circle and MacDougal Lane at or near a promontory overlooking the dam, waterfall and brook. We used four pine trees to anchor the corners of the hut, boarded the sides, covered the roof with boards and put shingles on the roof. To waterproof and insulate the hut, we added tar paper to the sides. Each time we built a hut, it was an improvement on the last.

     For every hut we built between 1948 and 1949, thirty houses or more were completed by the development builders. The entire length of Putnam Road to Steuben Road and Birch Lane was dotted with new homes. There were new homes on Highland Drive, Sprout Brook Road and Wharton Lane. All of these homes had village water but none had sewer lines. Instead, each home had a septic tank. There were subtle variations in shape, size, and color and a few houses had brick or stone facing. These new homes were occupied in short order.

     New houses brought new neighbors. Adult neighbors introduced themselves by proximity and common problems needing solutions. School age children were introduced by seating arrangement on the school bus. Sometimes the introduction was dramatic, such as an unexpected fight.

     I remember our two school bus drivers. "Frosty" was our morning driver. He was about 50 years old. Mr. Frost had a frosty disposition. Harold, our afternoon driver, was the opposite in social disposition. He enjoyed talking to the students and playing practical jokes.

     Harold was about 40 years old, handsome, slightly bald, a man with a great smile and personality. The older girls such as Gloria Smith, an 8^th grader, were attracted to him and they sat in front of the bus close to the driver's seat. Harold entertained them with tall tales. One afternoon we crossed a notorious bump on Oregon Road, little or no traffic on the road in either direction, with several of the boys crowded in the back seat of the bus to get the highest bounce. As we hit the bump and launched into the air, Harold turned to Gloria and launched his false teeth into the air. Just as quickly he caught the teeth with his right hand. Gloria screamed, "Harold!" With a quick spin of his head, he smiled and winked at her and put the false teeth back in his mouth.

     The rest of us were just as surprised as Gloria. Nobody had ever dreamed that Harold had false teeth. He was too young, we thought. There was a nervous start of laughter after the initial shock. Soon everyone on the bus was laughing, including Harold. But Gloria was embarrassed and turned her head toward the window of the bus.

     On the school bus I met Frank Smith, Gloria's younger brother, Paul and Raymond Kuty, Wayne Matthews and others who were about my age. We would invite each other to our homes after school. Parents got to know the school children, and eventually met the parents of the school children.

     The Smith's house was No. 394 on Sprout Brook Road. It was in place before Mr. Winston began the development of Continental Village. It used to be the home of Al Zeliph, Sr. Al's dog, Spot, treed a raccoon on this property near Canopus Creek and established his reputation as a raccoon dog.

     Schoolboys in the 1940's and 1950's did not have computers, video games, cell phones or ipods. Black and white televisions did not appear until 1948 or later.  Boys played outside if it wasn’t raining. For entertainment they occupied their time with baseball, football, softball, basketball, ice hockey, foot races, swimming, boating, fishing, hunting—whatever was in season. When it rained they played board games, cards or started hobbies.

     My friends and I created our own version of popular board games. One board was drawn with numbered squares, an imitation penny-pitch game. We substituted soda bottle caps for pennies. The owner of the board could make the squares any size he chose. The smaller size was the most difficult board game to play. If your bottle cap landed inside the square and did not touch a line, the number in that square determined how many bottle caps you won. If your bottle cap landed on a line, you lost it to the board owner.

     Shortly after the board games were introduced, pennies were substituted for bottle caps. New boards appeared with smaller squares. It became harder to win and easier to lose. Pennies became scarce, and stamp collecting or another hobby was substituted.