Early memories of Bellerose

A few random memories of our first house where we lived until I was almost 6.  It was in Bellerose, Queens, NY.  89-33 238th Street to be exact.  Basement, first floor with kitchen, dining room and living room, three bedrooms upstairs, somewhere a bathroom.  Attic too. Detached garage. Actually had a coal fired furnace when we first moved there, but I don't remember it or it being converted to an oil burner.  My Mom said we had milk delivered by a horse drawn wagon and if the milkman tarried too long talking to the customers, the horse would move on to the next house.  My sister's best friend Karen Masel lived down the end of the block on the corner.  She had a black cocker spaniel that I thought was the coolest animal.  I still like cockers..maybe that's why. 

Once, the vacant lot across the street went on fire.  The firemen came and quickly extinguished it.  My father's firehouse wasn't far from our house, so the responding engine may have even been from there, but either way, he would have known the responding company.  After it was out, we went across the street and the firemen let me work the nozzle on the hose.  My uncle Tom had bought me a metal model Mack fire engine that looked a lot like the Type L Mack that my father drove.  I could hook a tiny hydrant up to the garden hose and the water would come out the small hose that was attached to a reel on the engine.

Once my sister, her friend Karen, and I ran away from home.  I have no idea why, but we only made it  a couple blocks away to a candy store where we asked the owner for jobs.  Needless to say we didn't get jobs and went back home.  Seems to me that we carried a baby blanket like a hobo sack, but it only had some kiddie books in it.  Our parents were all waiting for us in front of our house.

The Meseroles lived next door.  They had these pedestals with round tops in their backyard made of concrete with what looked like marbles stuck in them.  My sister and I used to pick the marbles out of them.  There's also a story about my sister going into their garage and cashing in their soda bottles for the deposit money, but I don't remember the details. Behind us lived Farmer Stevenson.  He lost an arm in a farm equipment accident and had sold off most of his land, but kept enough to grow some vegetables.  He used to give my Mom fresh corn right off the stalks.  When we moved to East Meadow, his nephew, George Buck had a farm a few blocks from us.  What a coincidence.