Old News: Giving Thanks for a 1948 Playground, $1 Butts, $2.50 Dinner, Missing Spouses, a Rat War & Verga’s Midnight Bath

There’s been a lot of hoopla over the new hoops at the revamped McCarter Park in Fair Haven. And it was 76 years ago that the original “playground” seed was sown and there were some pre-Thanksgiving headlines and ads that would make your gravy-sopped, turkey-lovin’ head spin.

So, the ribbon was cut on the refurbished basketball court last Tuesday. With no price tag revealed, the borough, in its own fancy online flyer, rather than newspaper story, stated that the upgrade was funded entirely by a NJ Department of Community Affairs Division of Local Government Services grant dubbed a Local Recreation Improvement Grant. Give a click there for the real scoop on how that state grant works. The upgrades of the court included: fixing cracks, paint, landscaping and the installation of new, adjustable hoops.

Of course, there was a celebration, glad handing, speeches,, students and a special guest basketball student-athlete star Luke Cruz, who made the first official basket on the court. Score! Of course, though, in true retrospect, there’s more to the new court than meets the present hoopla. History. And we’ve got a little bit here …

In looking at the photos, in addition to being happy for the borough kids, all I could think about was the fact that where that basketball court sits is that this is where that rusty old metal merry-go-round gem sat. Yes, it’s been long removed I’m pretty sure most of the Fair Haven parents of today are quite horrified that it ever even existed.

Yet, I must say, that clingy-clangy old bucket of bolts and steel whirling dervish, in its own kids’ right, was where boatloads of us river ratty Fair Haven kids of the ’60s and ’70s parked our tuchuses on, got a whirl by someone and got very happily dizzy. Done-in, too.

In fact, I know some of us dubbed the thing “Dizzy Land.” Hey, nothing like purposely dizzying your little self to a nauseating degree as you gleefully watched your little Fair Haven world go by. Hazard? Na. More hoopla over that thing than the hoops. For some of us terminal kid geezers, anyway.

Oh, there were other gems on which to so-called recreate there. Yeah, we went down the metal slide that gave a good summer singe a couple of times and tried the terrifying monkey bars (or not). But we always ended up back on that dizzying dish of metal.

I can’t really even remember who did the twirling of that thing for us kids. Probably a parent. But, then again, we often roamed the borough and even took jaunts on foot or bike into Red Bank unsupervised. Nobody squealed on anybody, either, because, well, it was all a happy status quo.

And here many of us are, alive to talk about it. Imagine that. The park, which we all just called Willow Street Playground back then, just had a metal swing set or two, the merry-go-round from hell, slides, monkey bars, maybe one or two hoops and benches. There were more trees, too.

Turns out that this park that was no more than a little playground to us was a “woodland plot” owned by Mr. and Mrs. Thomas (they only used the man’s name back then) McCarter turned into a children’s playground and World War II memorial plot in 1948. Then Fair Haven Mayor Edgar Denise announced at a summer governing body meeting that year that “a section of woodland directly opposite the Willow Street School has been given to the borough” by the McCarters.

The playground was to go hand-in-hand with a World War II memorial. The mayor explained, in the Register story, that “the new gift (playground) was in lieu of a parcel of land, located at the corner of Willow Street and Kemp Avenue, which was donated last year (1947) by Mr. and Mrs. McCarter.”

“It’s time to go forward with our war memorial project so the children can have a playground by fall,” the mayor said in the Register story. “In laying out the playground, we will save every tree possible.”

A committee was to be appointed at the next meeting to raise funds for the project.

That’s how the play on the McCarter grounds got started and this is where it’s at a whopping 76 years later.

In the meantime, some interesting tidbits were making the headlines and advertisements months later the same year in the Nov. 18, 1948 issue of the Register, a prequel to Thanksgiving.

Oh, those kooky ads …

• For one, cigarettes were advertised for $1 a carton. Hey, those were the days when Thanksgiving meant a game, a smoke-filled room and turkey overdoses. Remember those big ol’ ashtrays on a stand. Classic.

• Then there was the “Snuffy Watches Weight by Washing Windows” headline … We’ll just leave that one there.

• Thanksgiving dinner at the Molly Pitcher was $2.50 and offered some tasty treats, traditional and not. The ad was pretty snappy, too. “With Plenty of Good Reason and Lots of Rhyme at the Hotel Molly Pitcher It’s Thanksgiving Time.”

• Portable home radios, as they were advertised, were 75 cents.

• And here’s a doozy. Dishwashers made a splash. The ad? It went like this … “Yes! Push-button dish washing is here! The Hotpoint dishwasher is the only dishwasher that washes, rinses, dries dishes electrically.”

• A Thanksgiving tradition, as advertised, was none other than beer … Hensler Light Beer, to be exact. That was what was scrolled on the bottom of that ad (above) advertising a cozy, traditional Thanksgiving, with the wife holding that bird as the boys at the table imbibed and the kid may as well have been saying, “Yeah, Ma, could ya bring that bird over here. Everyone’s drunk already.”

• And if you were looking for entertainment, all you had to do was go to the Carlton Theatre in Red Bank (now the Basie) to experience Dr. Ogre Banshee. What a name! This guy was dubbed the Master Manipulator of Spook Operations. OK, then.

There was a warning on this ad — “Sissies Stay Home.” But, really, in the Where’s Waldo of ads, one part just jumps out as Waldo … “It’s worth missing sleep to see Verga take her midnight bath.” What the … ??? But, you know, that’s entertainment in 1948.

Then there were headlines …

• RFH, which was only Rumson High then, had a banner football headline … “Rumson Wallops Catholic High 18-0 … Jim Roundtree Stars for Bulldogs By Figuring in Each Touchdown”

Missing Spouses …

• A Rumson man went missing and it made headlines, even though the guy called home to say he wouldn’t make it for dinner. Yes, this is what made the headlines. The 25-year-old, Gerald White, left home in his 1939 Plymouth sedan on a Monday morning, called to say he wouldn’t be home for “supper” that night. As of Tuesday morning at 1:43 a.m., it was reported to Rumson police that he still hadn’t come home. Yes, this was news. Seems kinda like some social media now. Interesting how news cycles have come full circle. As of Thursday’s printing of the paper, the guy was still ghosting his family.

So … Where’d he go? Well, it’s anyone’s guess, but he was, in fact, the story said, spotted headed toward Freehold with a shotgun and reportedly “planned to go hunting.” OK, then. Doesn’t sound missing to me. He just skipped supper … for two nights. Hmmmm … Guess he didn’t like what was for dinner. Ahem. Ol’ Gerald needed a break, perhaps. Couldn’t get one, though. Seems that him leaving the house for a few hours prompted all to alert the authorities. Hope you had fun, Gerald.

• Another man in a small clip on the front page announced “My wife, having left my bed and board, I will not be responsible for any bills, only those contracted by me.” And, yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is how they handled couples counseling back in the day.

Aaaaaand … Rats!

• Bet you didn’t know that there was a “rat warfare in Monmouth County” in 1948. The sub-head on the story read, “Baits, traps to be set Thanksgiving.” The lede was funnier than I’m sure any editor realized then. “Costs of keeping rats have gone up, too.” A few years before one rat ate and/or did $20 worth of damage on a farm. “Now, the annual price for keeping a rat is $40.”

Do keep in mind, though, that “It isn’t a disgrace to have rats. It’s a disgrace to feed them.” The progeny from one pair of rats can be 350,000,000 in three years. Yes, that’s 350 million! Rats!

Someone missed their Monmouth County calling to “raise” rodents.

Well, rats! Hey, maybe that’s where the missing Rumson guy was headed … to hunt rats for the big county Thanksgiving to make a killing.

Hey, it’s a theory.

If anyone finds this guy sitting at their Thanksgiving table, call his wife, would ya? And be frugal about raising rats. They can be pricey to feed and lodge.

And as we all give thanks this Thanksgiving, don’t forget to express some gratitude that you probably didn’t see Verga take her midnight bath. Or did you? Please report back if you were in that audience!

Aaaaand, that’s living a little …. in the past! Happy Thanksgiving, all!