The Bow and Arrows

I had just gotten over a cold, but then in those days it seemed that I was always getting over a cold. That is why my mother would not let me go with her on a small shopping trip to downtown Rahway. My favorite two stores were The Hobby Shop and Woolworth’s five and ten cent store.

“Ahhh Mom can’t I come.”

“ No. You’re just getting over a cold and it’s cold out there. You will catch a chill.” In those days moms believed that “catching a chill” was the principal cause of all illness. “Besides I am going with Isabel and I don’t want you giving her a cold.” Isabel Smith was our neighbor and a long time friend. Her two children, Tippy and Sissy, were my best friends. My mom did not see well so she never learned to drive a car; she relied on my dad or neighbors for rides. “I will bring you home something.”

My spirits brightened at the thought of a new toy. “What do you want?” My mom said just as the car horn sounded signaling that Isabel had arrived. Oh no! I had to think of what I wanted really fast. She would be out the door in a moment.

“I want a bow and arrows,” I quickly shouted out. I had just seen a Hop-a-Long Cassady show on TV. Where he single handedly defeated much of the Cheyenne nation. So a bow and arrows was the first thing to pop into my nine-year-old mind. I was expecting the usual response about shooting my eye out, but I guess she was in too big a hurry.

“Ok, be good and don’t jump on the furniture,” she said as she left.

A bow and arrows! Oh wow! Soon I would have a bow and arrows. From the sound of it this was not going to come out of my allowance either even though I had the biggest allowance in the neighborhood. I got a dollar every week on Friday. Tippy, who was a year older than me, only got fifty cents. Tippy’s sister, who was two years younger than me, only got twenty-five cents. So you see my allowance was bigger than both of theirs combined. A fact they often called to my attention by the phrase, “Your soooo lucky.” It was true, there was no denying it. Growing up as an only child had its perks. Now technically I was not an only child. I had two half brothers and a half sister. But Bobby was 7 years older and Alice was 9 years older and they lived with their mom and step dad. Leon was 14 years older than me and married.

In those days Woolworth’s sold a great toy bow and arrows. It came on a cardboard sheet with rubber band like things that held the bow and its two rubber tipped arrows to the card. Printed in bright colors on the card were the pictures of Indians bedecked in colorful war paint. There were also pictures of buffalo and bears and antelope. I was so excited I could hardly wait. In fact I could not wait. I went down in the basement to search for a substitute, something to get me started before my wonderful bow arrived. I found a stick of wood - a dowel used to hold up curtains or something. Now I would need a piece of string. I searched around my dad’s workbench. Ah ha! A nice piece of twine, just what I needed. I tied the string to both ends of the dowel and I had my bow. True the dowel would not bend like a bow and my arrows were all make believe, but that did not matter much at all. Now I was Fire Eagle, Chief of the Hawk People. The Hawk People were the noblest of all the tribes, keepers of the sacred land. Our enemies were the pale face of course. They were here to steal our land and destroy the sacred buffalo and our noble way of life. And then there were the dreaded Owl People, savage Indians that raided the camps of noble Indians like the Hawk People and served as scouts for the hated white man. Hour after hour I played lost in my imagination. Then I heard Isabel’s car pull up in front of our house. Mom was home! She would have my wonderful new bow and arrows.

“Do you have my bow?” I asked my mom before she was even through the door.

“No they didn’t have one.” she answered, “I got you this gun.” She handed me a toy wooden pistol on a cardboard sheet with pictures of a policeman and robber printed on it. Also included with the wooden pistol were some rubber bands. To make it work you stretched the rubber band from the front of the pistol to a little metal thing near the back. When you pulled the trigger the little metal thing moved down and the rubber band was released sending it flying.

Ohhh I was so disappointed, no bow and arrows. Then I tried out the gun. Wow the rubber band went a long way! In a moment I was Mr. Chip, the fearless G-man fighting the evil Dr. Doom and his ring of international rumrunners. Forgotten was Fire Eagle and his band of noble Indians. Dr. Doom had to be stopped and me and my crime-fighting gun of justice was the only thing that could do it.

By George V. Schubel

Cartoon Day

My friend Tippy and I were on our way home from the Hobby Shop in downtown Rahway. Downtown, that’s what everyone called the eight-square-block shopping area of our little city in New Jersey. It was 1957 and I was ten years old.

“Look Tippy,” I said having spotted the grand marquee above the entrance of the Rahway Theater, “Cartoon Day!” Three or four times each summer Rahway Theater would give a special performance just for kids. From 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. on a Saturday, they would run nothing but cartoons. It was a high point in the summer of every kid in Rahway, only overshadowed by the official family summer vacation itself that was usually a week or two at an ocean or mountain lake resort.

“Wow Chip! You think your Mom will let ya?” exclaimed Tippy having looked up from his concentration on the sidewalk to avoid the cracks to keep from ‘breaking his mother’s back’. Every ten year old knew that just one careless step on a crack in the concrete could cause a terrible injury to one’s mother.

“Sure,” I said with complete confidence. Not that it was easy getting 35¢ admission from my mother, but today was only Monday; I had a whole week to work on her. What I did not know then was my mother considered 35¢ admission and another 25¢ for a hot dog lunch a small price to pay for an entire day free of concern about her little angel. Of course she could not let me know that. Holding out until Friday night could mean a whole week of especially good behavior from me including eating every one of those dreaded peas.

I arose early that Saturday morning filled with anticipation. By 9:00 a.m. Tippy and I were on our way for the one mile walk to that heavenly place, the spectacular Rahway Theater. When we got there, the line was already all the way around the block. There must have been at least 2,000 kids waiting to buy a ticket to a day of absolute bliss. Never mind that the theater had 1,600 seats. At any one moment at least 100 kids would be on the way to or from the boy’s or girl’s room. Another 400 kids would be waiting in the line at the candy counter, so there were plenty of seats. No one wanted to sit in just one spot all day anyway.

Just for this special event, the wise Rahway Theater management hired a small army of high school kids to act as ushers for the younger kids. Now you give a sixteen-year-old a flashlight and a cap and all the qualities of a Gestapo officer emerge. And good thing too. Keeping 2,000 kids from tearing a theater to the ground on cartoon day required a stern hand.

Cartoon after cartoon flickered on the huge silver screen. The sound blared out at a volume at least twice the normal, yet it was drowned out by the excited yells and squeals of delight from the audience of cartoon lovers.

Several hundred “Loony Toons” and “Mary Melody” cartoons were shown. Even after the now familiar, “Th . . . Th . . . Th. . . That’s all folks!” there was still a collective moan of regret that it could not go on forever. Throngs of kids emerged from the exits with a great rush and roar and headed off in a dozen directions for the walk home.

The rest of the summer I kept an eye on the marquee for the next time it read, “Cartoon Day!” Cartoon Day at the Rahway Theater is something once experienced, is never to be forgotten.

Historical Footnote:

Remember how nearly every city or town of any size had a theater like the Rahway Theater?

Bratter and Pollack’s million-dollar Rahway Theater in Rahway, New Jersey was built in 1928. It had a marquee with 2,500 flickering lights circling the attractions. A giant vertical sign spelled out R-A-H-W-A-Y. Inside the theater there were 1,600 seats. The theater featured a nine-foot by thirteen-foot crystal chandelier suspended from the domed ceiling. There was a forty-five-foot stage and an orchestra pit. The building was built of brick and slate.

In 1971 the Wood Plaza Theater Corp. bought the Rahway Theater. To maintain interest in history of the theater, they renamed it the Old Rahway Theater.

By George V. Schubel

First published in “Yesterday’s Magazette” 8-26-93