AND IF YOU ASK ME

by Grayce Pitera

There are a variety of jobs people perform in their later years after they have spent a lifetime in their chosen occupations and then finally retire. That one word, retire, is intimidating to many retirees. For some unexplainable reason, there are those who must find part time activity to keep those retirement doldrums at bay. In reality, there is no conventional retirement for those people, whether they take on a paying part time job or simply keep busy dong odd jobs around the house. They prefer to keep on the move and that’s a good thing.
If they choose to re-enter the work force on a part time level, they fill the gaps for many employers. There are positions that only require a few hours of performance a week. Workers who need full time employment will not fill those positions. However, retirees jump at the chance.
A part time job gets them out of the house, back into the fray and chases away those dreaded doldrums. Compensation is secondary to them. It is nice, of course, but the real reason they put themselves out there is to “keep active.”
Crossing guard appointments were extremely coveted positions years ago.
However, regardless of the spiffy uniform that comes with that appointment, being a crossing guard was not always the plum job that it appeared to be. For instance, it was not pleasant standing outdoors on cold rainy days. Raw snowy conditions presented another uncomfortable set of circumstances and usually there were no restroom facilities in those appointed areas. Still, there never seemed to be a shortage of qualified persons willing to take on those positions.
With the scope of busing programs these days, the locations of the crossing guards’ stations have changed and it is my belief their number has dwindled a bit too. Years ago they stood patiently at their assigned areas, waiting to stop traffic when the children arrived, providing them safe passage.
That was it, interacting with their young students just a few minutes twice a day for the entire school year. That extremely limited contact built up day by day. Ultimately, the kids began to know their crossing guards and associated them with their school day agenda.
Concetta DeLaurentis, the guard at Tilton Street and Bellevue Avenue, was best known in my home. I knew her very well since her son, Albert, was my friend and classmate. She later became the crossing guard for my two children during the 1970s.
Concetta drew double-street crossing duties. She crossed the Bellevue Avenue kids across Tilton and then again across Bellevue on their way to school. Then that scenario was repeated in reverse in the afternoon when the kids headed home. In order to do this with precision, Concetta trained her kids well. She made certain they knew not to step off the curb before she motioned to them to do so.
Once her protocol was established, she enjoyed mini chats with each and every child as she went about her crossing guard duties. Concetta knew all their names. “How was school today?” she asked as she stood in the center of the street holding off impatient motorists, “Did you learn anything new?”
Then kids waited for her to return to the curb and direct them again across Tilton where another mini chat ensued. She always called after my kids, “Tell your mother I said hello.” Evelyn Cassidy later took that post and the scenario continued.
Those brief personal moments must be why crossing guards became so well known by so many people. Motorists knew them on sight after continually passing those sections mandating crossing guard assignments. Kids knew them from walking by those same spots every weekday. What is really remarkable is that they never forgot their crossing guards, even after they reached adulthood.
At the Central Avenue school buildings there were numerous guards. Central and Peach, Central and Third and Central and Vine were the three prominent corners where school guards kept busy directing rambunctious kids anxious to get to school in the morning and just as anxious to run on home later in the day.
At corners Bellevue and Third, Bellevue and Tilton and Bellevue and Fourth, another trio of guards awaited the kids. Fourth and Fairview was a more remote, but still a very busy intersection that offered a demanding post in later years. These are only a few of the local assignments where our townspeople answered the call to duty and faithfully reported to work each day wearing a smile and ready to watch over the town’s young.
I had the opportunity to watch many crossing guards from my home at the corner at Fourth Street and Bellevue Avenue once the Central Avenue school complex was enlarged to include Fourth Street. “Camel” Barbario, Mr. Ruggerio, William Rodio and Sam Spoto endured all kinds of weather from their posts where no shelter was available. Taking refuge in their cars until the crossing time rolled round was the only relief they enjoyed during inclement weather. I knew Camel well. Working for Abbott’s Dairy, my parents were on his milk route for years and in those days milkmen became part of the family.
Now as an adult I had the pleasure of seeing him on a daily basis again, standing outside my home every day, twice a day. I didn’t own The Cornucopian when my children were very young. Instead, I was a stay-at-home mom. So early in the morning, on exceptionally cold days, Dan carried a steaming cup of coffee to Camel, who also knew my home was open to him if and whenever he needed it. That was his corner for years and our friendship was boosted to a higher level. He sometimes stopped in for a second cup of coffee at the end of his shift.
By the time Sammy Spoto, a school friend, was assigned to my corner, my children were out of school and I was working full time. Harry and I enjoyed short, lighthearted remarks with Sam on our way to and from my shop. Sam had long been a longtime familiar face at the Bellevue Avenue Sears and Roebuck store and was known by nearly all the townspeople.
Later in the early 1990s, I enjoyed passing by Third and Bellevue where Jimmy Sacco stood guard. He loved those kids on his route and there wasn’t a motorist who passed by without acknowledging Jim. Being on duty was almost a social event for him. Having been a plumber all his adult life, he had serviced a large number of Hammontonians. So there he stood, talking to the kids and kibitzing with the drivers while still taking his post very seriously.
Now a new force continues the tradition, but this is how it was with all the crossing guards back then, reporting each day, becoming a nostalgic part of the children’s school day and then ultimately retiring from the scene without fanfare. Happily, they haven’t been forgotten. Who could forget them? I dare say not a one of us.