So Much for The Victorian Age in Albany: Adah Isaacs Menken

Actress/poet/bohemian Adah Isaacs Menken created a sensation in Albany when she first rode a horse across the stage on June 7, 1861. The attraction was twofold: first, she was performing a traditionally male role in the play, “Mazeppa,” a local favorite since 1833; and second, her character was supposed to be strapped to a horse, naked, and left to die. Adah wasn’t naked, she was covered in diaphanous white cloth – but that was close enough for 19th century thrill seekers.

Her story from a 1964 Knickerbocker News article, by Miriam Biskin:

“At a period when anti-southern feeling ran high, the darling of Albany’s theatre-goers was a New Orleans belle, who wore pink tights from head to foot and who rode to fame strapped to the back of a big black horse. Half of the audience came to marvel at her horsemanship while the other half came to view her daring garb, and neither half left disappointed.

The theatre in which she appeared was located on the west side of Green Street, south of Hamilton. It had been opened to the public on January 18, 1813 in an effort to make a contribution which would “correct the language, refine the taste, ameliorate the heart and enlighten the understanding.”

Such dramas as “The West Indian” and “Fortune’s Frolic” were often shown at box office prices of 50 cents, 75 cents, and $1.00 – whether Miss Menken’s • appearance cause any advance in prices is unrecorded.The theatre was jammed to capacity, however, because by the time Miss Menken appeared in Albany she was already a star in the theatrical world, and her name was synonymous with everything which was daring and exposed.

Extremely buxom, she posed in all sorts of be tasseled portraits in as much undress as the Victorian world would tolerate. Her career had been a series of ups and downs and now that she was on top, she was determined to maintain that position at any price. Born in Milneberg near New Orleans on June 15, 1832, she was named Adah Bertha Theodore. Her father died in a yellow fever epidemic while she was still very young, and her mother remarried a man of some wealth who saw to it that Adah received an excellent education. She learned Latin, Hebrew, Greek and French, and took pleasure in attending the theatre and the opera in New Orleans.

By the time she was 18, she was completely stage-struck, and by the time she was 21, she was appearing with an amateur theatrical group:. She had taken some time off to elope with Isaacs Menken, the scion of a wealthy Cincinnati family. From then on, Menken took over the position of her manager, and Adah was soon appearing in theatres in Shreveport, Vicksburg and Nashville. Wherever she went, she was received with tremendous enthusiasm by a growing host of male admirers. In Dayton, she was feted by the Dayton Home Guard, much to the distress of her jealous husband. He demanded that she leave the stage. She refused and he left. After the divorce, Adah married John Heenan, heavyweight champion (living in WestTroy, NY), who brought her little comfort. Nothing like the docile Menken, he released all sorts of statements vilifying his wife to the papers. Menken added to the furor by issuing her own incendiary statements declaring the initial divorce null and void. A second divorce was soon granted and a new Adah [SENTENCE AND A HALF MISSING, SORRY!]

Adah was a stage-struck girl who wrote excellent poetry in the style of Wait Whitman – religious verse dedicated to Charles Dickens who thanked her profusely for the compliment. The new Adah was a hardheaded publicity seeker who smoked cigars and cropped her hair short in the style of an unkempt urchin. She sought out the bohemians of the day and lived in their free and easy style.

It was at this point that she was offered the role of Prince Mazeppa in Mazeppa or The Wild Horse of Tartary. Cast in the role of the young prince who was strapped naked to a horse and turned loose in the wilderness to die, she was taking a part usually played by a man. And most men were willing to use a dummy substitute for the gallop upstage. But not Menken – she wanted no substitute – and it was her daring which brought crowds into the theatres.

Her tour of New York State was a triumph, and her trip south marred only by an arrest caused by her determination to decorate her dressing room with Confederate flags. In the west, she was welcomed by the miners’ wild adulation and the milder compliments of two young writers, Joaquin Miller and Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain). Clemens, then a reporter for the Virginia City Enterprise, was particularly intrigued by her garb. He described her performance in these terms: “She appeared to have but one garment on – a thin, tight white linen one, of unimportant dimensions; I forget the name of the article, but it is indispensable to infants of tender age.”

He was definitely unimpressed by her acting and horsemanship: “She bends herself back like a bow; she pitches headforemost at the atmosphere like a battering ram; she works her arms and legs and her whole body like a dancing-jack…in a word, without any apparent reason for it, she carries on like a lunatic…if this be grace, then the Menken is eminently graceful.”

Returning from the western tour, Menken embarked for the European capitals and fresh triumphs. The critics deplored the entire production of Mazeppa but this did not deter the ticket-buyers, In Europe, too, she made friends with the great and near-great – Algernon Swinburne., Charles Dickens, Dante Rossetti, Alexander Dumas, pere and others. Between the time of her Albany debut in 1861 and tier Paris appearance in 1864, she had married twice more and borne a son who died in infancy.

Despite personal turmoil, her professional fortunes soared. Paris was at her feet and Menken coats, Menken scarves, Menken collars, and even Menken pantaloons were the rage. Few realized that the glamorous star was ill until she collapsed during rehearsal and died a few weeks later. How long she had been a consumptive no one knew but she was dead at 33 – the flamelike quality that Dickens had called the “world’s delight” extinguished forever. They buried her in a corner of the little Jewish cemetery in Montparnasse, and on her grave stone are the words, “Thou Knowest,” an epitaph she had chosen from Swinburne, the poet who had said of her, “A woman who has such beautiful legs need not discuss poetry.”

Note: Miss Mazeppa is the name of is one of the strippers in “Gypsy”. Homage to Miss Menken’s fame that lingered into the 20th century. “You gotta have a gimmick”.

By Al Quaglieri

Albany Municipal Golf Course

Albany Municipal Golf Course (a/k/a Capital Hills Golf Course) opened in 1931. It was created from 265 acres of farm land purchased by City of Albany circa 1930. Most of land was bought from the Walley Family in the Town of Bethlehem who operated a farm on the New Scotland Plank Rd. From the late 1700s until the early 1970s.The Golf Course wasn’t within the Albany city limits until 1967 when Albany annexed that part of Bethlehem around New Scotland Ave., from Whitehall Rd. down to the Normanskill Creek, in 1967.

Julie O’Connor

A portion of the Walley Farm for sale – about at the intersection of Whitehall and New Scotland Roads
The Walley Farm continued into the early 1970s
Albany Municipal Golf Course
Albany Municipal Golf Course
Albany Municipal Golf Course 1931
Municipal Golf Course c. 1931
Municipal Golf Course C . 1931
Municipal Golf Couse C. 1931
Municipal Golf Course C. 1931

Albany and the Hudson River Daylines

Albany was removed from the regular Dayline route in 1947.

The last jewel in the crown was the “Alexander Hamilton” which became part of the New York Circle Line fleet, touring NYC harbor and traveling north part way up the Hudson, until a fire in the 1970s.

Robert Fulton successfully sailed his first steamboat “The North River Steamboat” (A/K/A “The Clermont”) in 1807.

By 1812 his North River Company (a/k/a the Hudson River) was operating 3 ships with regular schedules between New York and Albany. Competition developed and by 1822 the Hudson River Line was created.

We estimate that by 1850 there were at least 8 lines or individual ships you could use to book a trip to New York City.

After the Civil War came the golden age of Hudson River steamships. Two dominate lines emerged – the Hudson River and the People’s Line. Ships turned into floating palaces, with multiple restaurants, entertainment, promenade decks, attentive service.

The legendary ships in the period between 1870 and early 1900 were the “Daniel Drew”, “Dean Richmond”, “Hendrick Hudson”, “The Adirondack”, “The Berkshire”, “The Peter Stuyvesant”, “The DeWitt Clinton” and “The New York”. The People’s Night Line grew in popularity into the early 1930s.

The iconic ticket office of the Day Line was built in the early 1900s on Broadway. Mr. Elmendorf, the ticket master, was a legendary figure in downtown for decades.

The Hudson Navigation Co. invested in major docking and sheds in Steamboat Square (an area for passenger boat landings from the early 1800s) in 1918.

But ultimately the proliferation of the automobile, better roads, and improvements in railroads and better amenities killed the Hudson River steamship lines.

Copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor


Charles Ferson Durant (born Sept. 19, 1805 – died, Mar. 2, 1873) has been called “America’s First Aeronaut,” and the “father of air leafleting.” (Balloon flight had been the rage in Europe for fifty years before Durant hopped into a basket and attempted it in America. (There had been an incident of a balloon flight in the States prior to Durant, in 1793, but the balloonist was French, not American.)

On July 9, 1824 the French aeronaut Eugene Robertson made a balloon ascension at Castle Garden in New York in honor of the Marquis de Lafayette. An 18-year-old New Yorker, Charles Ferson Durant, became so enthusiastic at witnessing Robertson’s ascension that he followed the Frenchman to Paris. There they made two ascensions together in 1829. The young American then returned to New York and was the first U. S. citizen to become a professional aeronaut in this country.

He was also the first person to use balloons which were made in America. In his career he made a total of 13 flights, the first one, on September 9, 1830 from the same place where Robertson had made his start in 1825. The interest of the public and of the New York Press was so great that he made a second flight soon afterwards, on September 22, 1830.

Always embellished with a great deal of spectacle, Durant’s flights were a mixture of showbiz and science. After smarting from footing the bill for preparatory expenses at his first ascension, Durant learned to solicit underwriters for the event several weeks in advance.

This post ran in the Albany Evening Journal on July 25, 1833:

“Mr. Durant is an American – a native of New York, where he is engaged in business, and sustains an unblemished reputation. The interest universally taken by the most intelligent and respectable citizens of that place, in his success, is a sufficient voucher for his worth. He is studying his serial profession as a science, which he entertains sanguine hope of reducing to purposes of practical utility. Mr. D. Has made six ascensions, all from New York Castle Garden. It has been his good fortune never to disappoint an audience either by failure or postponement. He superintends, personally, the construction and inflation of his balloons. At his first ascension, so incredulous were his friends and the public, that no person would hazard a dollar of the heavy prepatory expense. He therefore embarked his all in the enterprise, which, most fortunately for him, proved a successful and triumphant display of American genius and intrepidity.”

He found a willing backer in Mr. Leverett Cruttenden, of the Eagle Tavern. Tickets to the event itself were 50 cents apiece, with an audience of from four to six thousand expected. He had barely broken even at his first expositions, but by time he hit Albany he was netting somewhere around $2,000 a show, a tidy sum in 1833.

An amphitheater was erected at the corner of Swan and Fayette (later Lafayette) at “Meek’s Garden” (most likely a bastardization of “Meiggs,” the family who lived there).This wasn’t just Durant climbing into his balloon and flying away, it was a four-hour spectacle, replete with pre-show and live music.

The series of events didn’t much vary from venue to venue.

Here was Albany’s schedule:

1:30 p.m.: Spectators will be admitted, and then witness his apparatus for generating hydrogen gas (barrels of decomposing, water, iron, and sulfuric acid), while he boasted that it would produce ten thousand ft. of hydrogen.

2:00 p.m.: Cannon shots will announce the moment when Durant would begin inflating his balloon.

3:00 p.m.: A small balloon will be set off to determine wind direction.3:30 p.m.: A gold dolphin balloon will sail around the amphitheatre.

4:00 p.m.: A Pioneer Balloon will be set off, carrying the tripcord and the American flags.

4:30 p.m.: Mr. Durant will begin attaching his car to the balloon and making final flight preparations.

5:00 p.m.: Mr. Durant will board the balloon’s basket and then cut the tethers. Durant will wave the star-spangled banner as he gradually and majestically ascends.*

It is not known whether Durant, as he had in his first ascent, prefaced his flight by floating near ground level and tossing out handbills to the spectators. On his second flight, he carried his farewell address up with him and dropped them from altitude. He was the first to use air leaflets in America. Durant’s balloon rose to an average altitude of one mile above the river. Because the balloon contained about 800 feet more gas than he intended, it was fully distended, and any attempt to go higher would have led to the balloon’s explosion.

A Mr. Thurber, of Mechanic Hall, Troy, had given Durant several carrier pigeons for the flight, to signal his progress. Here are excerpts from Durant’s flight log:

“Started at 5 hr. 6 min. bar. 30-356 ther. 88 Loosed one pigeon with a paper on which I marked time, height of bar, and ther, with “all’s well” and, unless the wind increases you may expect me in Albany this evening.

At 5 hr. 20 min. over a large creek – sent the inhabitants and Evening Journal.

At 5 hr. 38 min. within hailing distance of the earth Conversed with several men; understood the name of one to be Edward Haswell; that the name of the town was Bethlehem. On enquiring the name of the next large town in the direction I was going, understood him to say Cairo; distant 30 miles; send down a copy of the Address and an Eve. Journal; threw out a ballast and hoped to reach Cairo.

At 6 hr. 4 min. bar. 25 -02- ther.70. Very little wind and the country beyond in my course covered with trees; made preparations to descend; on approaching the earth made two ineffectual attempts to land; threw over each time 20 or 30 lbs. ballast.

At 6 hr. 47 min. the anchor grappled with the earth and brought me to the farm of Mr. Peter Slingerland, half a mile from the village of Stoney-Hill (town of New Scotland [ near Clarksville] ), and 12 miles from Albany; started the other pigeon, which, after hovering for a few minutes about the Balloon, took its flight homeward; – several; gentleman arrived to whom I threw a line and was towed up to the village, and slighted in the meadow of Mr. Slingerland.

Among the gentlemen who assisted me to land and secure the Balloon, were Nicholas Miller, Henry and Albert Slingerland, William and Moses Segar, Matthew Flansburgh and Tunis Slingerland; took tea at the house of C.P Slingerland where I had the pleasure of an introduction to the ladies of the village.

After passing three quarters of an hour pleasantly with my new friends, to whose kindness and hospitality I desire to render my warm acknowledgements, Mr. Moses Slingerlands took me with the Balloon, into his wagon and started for Albany – we soon met Mr. Charles Low of Albany, who left after the Ascension, in pursuit of the Balloon, and who returned with us. On our way back we met with Messrs Ewens’, Burhans, Wand’s and Clark’s and arrive at Mine Hust’s of the Eagle, a few minutes past 11 o’clock.”

Durant had flown 12 miles in 1 hour 47 minutes. He received a raft of accolades for his feat, including this resolution from the electors of the town of New Scotland:

“RESOLVED: That we view the late ascension of Charles F. Durant as one in which the curious and candid were equally pleased – as he passed majestically over some of our rocks and mountains – making a safe and welcome landing in Slingerland’s valley, one of the oldest settled places in the town.”

Here’s a description of the ascension from a young man named James that appeared in Parley’s Magazine on September 14th, 1833.

“I went with my brother to Mr. Meek’s garden last Thursday to see Mr. Durant and his balloon. The day was very pleasant, and the sky bright and clear. There were vast crowds of people assembled, and I could see several women and children on the tops of the houses, all looking out for the balloon. I was afraid some of them would tumble off. Several little balloons, with no one in them, were sent up first..The balloon was tied down to the ground by cords, and seemed to be trying to get away. At about five o’clock, Mr. Durant took his seat, in the car, as it is called. The people now began to shout, and hurrah, and crowd forward to get a sight of him. My brother placed me on his shoulders, so that I was as tall as any of them. At last the cords were cut, and my heart beat as if I were going up in the air myself. The people shouted, and I shouted, and everybody shouted. Mr. Durant waved a flag as he rose. The balloon rose up like a bird, and sailed away till it seemed like a speck. At last it flew out of sight; and, taking me down from his shoulders.”

On August 30, Mr. Durant packed up his gear and left Albany for New York.

“Ascensions” in Boston and Baltimore followed before Durant, heeding the pleadings of his wife, abandoned his aeronautical activities and dedicated himself to experiments with silk culture. During his ballooning years, he collected all the newspaper recountings of his exploits, plus his leaflets and logs. All are available for viewing at the New York Public Library.

*From “Charles F. Durant – Early American Aeronaut, Father of the Propaganda Leaflet” by Dr. Max Kronstein; The Airpost Journal, August, 1944.

Al Quaglieri

Albany’s Strand Movie Theater

The Strand was a classic, old school gorgeous and elegant movie house on North Pearl and Monroe Streets, close to the First Reformed Church. It started off in the era of the silent movies, and would have an orchestra and/or an organ to provide the background music, performances and sing-a-longs for the audience. It was built by and owned by Warner Bros. for decades (along with two other movie theaters in the city – the Madison in Pine Hills and the Delaware on Delaware Ave (now the Spectrum).

The Strand was the first theater in the City to show Al Jolson in “The Jazz Singer”, the first widely successful “Talkie. Once it made the transition it had a couple of of renovations and to Talkies, and endured for another four decades until its demolition in 1970. The Strand was one of two first run movie theatres in the city showing the block busters of the day. It also served as a venue for a variety of live events over the years- from beauty contests to cooking shows.

Copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor

Albany’s Empire Theater

The Empire Theatre on State St., above South Pearl St. in the early part of the 20th century.
It was the biggest and most popular burlesque and vaudeville (but mostly burlesque) theater in Albany, from about 1900 to the early 1920s.

And it was one of the two theaters where you could see Yiddish Theatre. (The other was Harmanus Bleecker Hall – Albany Public Library is in that location today.) Albany had one of the largest Jewish populations in America in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Some estimates put it between 15% – 20% of the total population of the city.

By 1900 this large immigrant population came from eastern Europe (Poland, Rumania, Czechlosovakia) and Russia. But the immigrants shared a common cultural language – Yiddish. Large Yiddish theatre and opera companies came up to Albany from New York City at least once a month.
The early 20th century burlesque shows included beautiful girls, scantily clad, but mostly, like vaudeville, they were broad farce. (Not strippers.) You could still laugh at the slapstick and admire the beauty and dancing even if your ability to speak English was limited. And if you spoke English, so much the better.
The Empire hosted huge stars. Before Fannie Brice became a Ziegfield Girl she came to Albany in “The College Girls”  And this is where she met and married her first husband, Frank White, an Albany barber.
Another favorite was Mollie Williams, one of the most enterprising of all the stars of burlesque. She was one of few Jewish stars of burlesque. By 1912, when she was in her early 30s, she owned her own company, and produced her own shows, touring all of the Northeastern U.S. Even the women in the audience seemed to love her.


(After the Empire closed Mollie starred at the Capitol Theatre on Chapel St. In 1924 she became an American sweetheart. She included a skit in her act that championed raises for US. Post Office workers. They got the raise and when Mollie came to town they hosted parties in her honor. Mollie’s other dubious claim to fame – a very young vaudevillian, Milton Berle lost his virginity to her.)
The Empire closed in 1922.
Copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor

Hampton Hotel Roof Garden

Roof garden restaurants began to be a thing in the 1880s. They were a way of beating summer heat, and creating small oasis in a crowded city.
The roof garden atop the Hampton Hotel on State St. just above Broadway was constructed in the early 1900s.
There was music and dancing at the Hampton Hotel roof garden. You would have a spectacular view, Hudson River breezes, and there is a description of hundreds of tiny electric lights at night that made it seem like a fairyland.
It was designed to attract the middle and upper classes of Albany, and well-heeled hotel guests.
But I can imagine a young clerk or factory worker saving up to take his girl, maybe she was a store clerk, for a special night. She would be dressed in her best- maybe he gave her a small flower corsage. It might have been a romantic, magical night. A once in a life time experience, never to be forgotten.
Copyright 2021  Julie O’Connor

The Washington Park Refectory

The Washington Park Refectory was the place in the Park where you could get light refreshments. Delicate sandwiches, ice cream, ices, lemonade and soda in the Summer, and cocoa, coffee, tea and pastries in the Winter.
It was built to look like a Swiss chalet, using the “stick motif” style of the original Lake House, east of Englewood Place. It was said that as you sat on the broad piazza (veranda) there was an unobstructed view, looking the Great Meadow, to Willett St.
The Refectory was in use until about the late 1930s, but had begun to deteriorate. During World War II it was closed, since much of the Park was given over to Victory Gardens.
It was demolished in the 1950s. By then a small snack bar had been added to the Lake House.

Copyright 2021  Julie O’Connor

Drive-in Movies – Albany Edition

Under the first phase of  Covid 19 re-opening in New York drive-in movies could open.
Everything old is new again.
There are 4 drive-ins immediately around Albany; the Jericho on 9w in Glenmont, the Malta on Route 9 south of Saratoga, the Hollywood in Averill Park, and the Hi-Way, south of Coxsackie.
And this got me to thinking about the drive-in hay days of the 1950s and 1960s. While the the first drive-in, the Auto Drive -In, opened on Latham in 1941, the other came after World War II in  the late 1940s, post World War II.
As more people could afford cars, they became more popular, but then  drive-ins had to compete with the growing television market.
Still, in the Albany area the number of drive-ins grew. I’m guessing by 1960 there were at least 15 within easy driving distance of the city.

Carmen Rd.( Route 146) near Route 20

Indian Ladder Drive-in, New Scotland Rd., near New Salem

It was a cheap and convenient night out for Mum and Dad and the kiddos (usual bundled in their PJs because they would pass out before the 2nd half of the double feature). No baby sitters required.

There was fierce competition. First snack bars were added. Who doesn’t remember the dancing hot dog singing  “Let’s all go the snackbar”at intermission. (We were a frugal family so we packed snacks and drinks, but were allowed to get an ice cream cone.)
Some added in-car heaters (that never worked well) to extend the season. Then came playgrounds. The speaker attached to your rolled down car window gave way to a special frequency on your car radio. By the late 1960s some drive-ins added rock and roll bands before movies.
 The American drive-in theater became iconic, for so many reasons, but mostly because they combined 2 of our loves- cars and movies.

East Greenbush

But during the height of the horrible polio scare of the 1950s, before there was a vaccine for widespread use, drive-ins were safe places for family fun. (Sound familiar?)
But they were also the “passion pit” for teenage make out artists. Sneaking into the drive-in was a favorite pastime. You could drink at the drive-in. Mecca for teens and young adults as well as families.
Everyone had their favorites. I loved the Mohawk on Central Ave., just east of Rte.155. It was opposite my great uncle’s house (that became Andy’s Hardware). Dinner at his house and then the drive-in.
There were family movie and “dirty movie” drive-ins and teen movie drive- ins, each with a target demographic.
But over time the allure of the drive-in waned and the large tracts of land became too valuable. By the late 1980s they were dinosaurs. Today there is a residential development where the famed Turnpike Drive was located on Western Ave.; others were replaced by shopping plazas and car dealerships.
Some just faded away. There were 2 on New Scotland Rd. between Slingerlands and New Salem – The Mayfair and the Indian Ladder; still vacant land today.
Copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor

Fried Clam Friday and 28 Flavors in Albany

There are times when I yearn for Howard Johnson’s Fried Clams. Today is one of those days.
The first Hojo Restuarant in Albany opened on Central Ave. near Everett Rd. in 1939 with the classic nursery rhyme Simple Simon the Pieman on the sign. (You can still see the outlines of the original Hojo’s in the building that remains.)

Hojo’s on Central Ave.  1939 

How did Mr. Johnson’s restaurants survive and thrive in the Depression? A bit of a miracle, but a great sense of marketing and branding, consistency, quality food at a reasonable price and child friendly. (My personal theory is clean restrooms, as well.)
But World War II and rationing decimated the chain. Yet it re-built stronger than ever, with the growth of new turnpikes and thruways, adding motor lodges to the Hojo portfolio.
The next Hojo in Albany, with a motel, was built on Southern Blvd. near Exit 23 of the Thruway in the mid-1950s.

Southern Blvd.

A standalone Howard Johnson restaurant became a centerpiece of Stuyvesant Plaza when it opened in 1959. Others followed in Latham on Route 7 and on Central Ave. in Colonie.
As competition among national and large regional restaurant chains increased Johnson upped the ante. In 1961 he hired Pierre Franey, chef at Le Pavillion, the premiere French restaurant in the U.S., and his sous chef, Jacque Pepin, to devise and test new recipes.
Fun fact: Pepin turned down offer to be White House chef under JFK at the same time. He worked for HoJo for about a decade.
The Howard Johnson brand thrived and grew. On weekend nights parking lots were packed.
Restaurants catered to families, the ladies who lunched, businessmen and tired travelers of all stripes – station wagons loaded with kids on summer vacations and traveling salesmen in suits.
Howard Johnson’s popularity began to tumble in the late 1970s. A series of acquisitions by venture capitalists and other motel chains diluted a brand already perceived as growing stale. The hotels remain, owned by Wyndam, but restaurants are gone.
Hard to say when the Albany restaurants disappeared. They were all closed by 2000.
The last one in the U.S., in Lake George (it made an appearance in the TV series “Mad Men”) was open on a limited basis, before the pandemic, last we heard. It still has an orange roof and a Simple Simon weathervane.
The last vestige of the  Central Ave. Howard Johnson’s , which became a Ground Round in the 1970s and into the early 1980s is a car dealership building.
Copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor