The Gift of Music

A few months ago I wrote about the Fulton High School band’s 1972 trip to Vienna, Austria. It was a memorable time for those students and for Fultonians. It was also a career highlight for the man who made that trip possible: Richard Swierczek.

As the band’s leader, Dick spearheaded the historic trip. I enjoyed writing the article recalling it, and apparently Dick enjoyed reading it. Shortly after the column ran, I received an email from him thanking me.

Dick and I corresponded back and forth, and I learned more about the man who provided Fulton youth many music opportunities. At 92 years old, now living in Chatham, Massachusetts, Dick hasn’t forgotten his time in Fulton. Here’s more of his story:

“I’m very proud of the fact that I grew up in one of the two or three Polish neighborhoods in Fulton.  My grandparents Stanley and Hanna Witowski’s home was on West First Street, across from the current Polish Home. They had fourteen children, losing four to influenza.

“My mother, Mary, and father, John, both worked at the Woolen Mills, and when Dad got close to retirement he bought a house and grocery store in Granby Center. Mom was to run the store, but she got very sick and was unable to do so. The store ended up burning to the ground and I’m not sure Dad had insurance on it. This greatly affected our lives and we ended up having to move back into my grandparents’ home.”

It was while living with his grandparents that Dick was introduced to music.  “Back in those days,” he recalled, “every home was expected to have a piano, whether or not anyone could play it. When my mother bought one, none of us could play, but my grandfather believed nothing should go to waste and he taught himself by picking out Polish melodies. We would stand around the piano and clap, dance, laugh and sing.

“My grandmother had a beautiful silvery voice and she’d sing Polish songs. As long as she knew no one was listening, she’d sing. I used to sneak into the kitchen to listen and that was the beginning of my musical life.”

Dick may have inherited his musical aptitude from his grandparents, but his family also provided music-related opportunities. “On Saturdays, Edwards Store in Syracuse sponsored the WFBL Children’s Hour,” Dick said. “My mother made sure I listened every week. Also, my Uncle Ed was hooked on classical music and he introduced me to the New York Philharmonic’s live broadcasts.”

When Dick got to high school he became friends with another Fultonian who loved music: Jack Walsh.  When they graduated from high school in 1943, Dick expected to be drafted the following year, “but Jack suggested we go to Potsdam’s music school. It wasn’t expected that anyone from my Polish community could go to college; tuition was $100. But I approached my parents with a plan. If they could cover the tuition, I’d work my way through.”

At Potsdam, Dick immersed himself in music education. Though he was drafted after his first year, he returned to the college two years later, graduating with a music degree.  After teaching five years at various New York State schools, in 1954 Dick was hired in Fulton as an elementary-level band teacher.

“I was hired by Mr. MacDonald, superintendent of Fulton schools. There was no schoolwide music program to speak of and his intention was for me to build one up from the younger grades. To introduce myself to the children, I carried one of each band instrument into fourth through eighth grade classrooms. I demonstrated each instrument and gave every student a chance to try them.”

Dick developed a unique method to teach children music. Using an instrument called a flutophone, sort of a primitive clarinet, he taught them the basics of playing a song.

“By my second year of teaching, we were ready for our first elementary band concert,” Dick recalled. “The gymnasium was filled with parents and all fourth grade classes in Fulton.  After students played one or two short pieces they’d memorized, I announced an “all request” portion of the program. As long as I knew the song, I could lead it. I held my hand up to show the children what fingers to use and we were able to play a few songs. The music program took off from there.”

By the time Dick retired in 1985, Fulton was recognized throughout the state for its premier music education.  He hired other music teachers, including Carol Fox, which Dick told me was “the best decision I ever made.” Carol and others worked to support Dick’s goals and soon Fulton became part of the state’s School Music Association. Through that organization, talented Fulton youngsters participated in music festivals held at the county, sectional, all state, and Eastern United States divisions.  This all led to the Austria trip.

Fulton students weren’t only learning music, but also some valuable life lessons. “I worked out a system with Don Distin, Director of Athletics, who had developed a marvelous sports program. In many schools, music and sports were at odds with each other for students’ time, but not at Fulton. Our students got to participate in both programs. If there was a time conflict, Don and I got together and solved the problem.”

Dick eventually branched out beyond youth programs, developing the Fulton’s Men’s and Women’s Chorus and spreading music throughout the city. But, to me, his greatest contribution to Fulton was the gift of music he gave to our youth. A story he told me is one shining example:

“After I’d left Fulton, a boy I’d taught wrote me a letter as an adult. While driving in his car, a piece of music came on that he said was so beautiful. ‘I pulled over the side of the road to appreciate it,’ he said.”

I wonder how many Fultonians have Dick Swierczek to thank for their lifelong love of music?

Dick Swierczek, former Fulton School’s music educator, recently talked with me about his contributions to our city.

The First Day of School

No matter how long it’s been since I was a student, there’s still something about the end of summer and the beginning of autumn that makes me think of school. It doesn’t have anything to do with back-to-school sales or remembering to watch out for school buses on busy streets. It’s about knowing that the start of a new school year could bring an important change to your life.

I’m not alone in that thought. As I learned from working with the Fulton Public Library on their Memoir Project, lots of us have vivid memories of our school days. In the five years since the library has been asking people to share their recollections of life in our city, many have focused on their first day of school. To honor the start of this school year, I’m revisiting some of those memories in this column.

I’ll start with Julia (Judy) Smith, whose introduction to education took place in a one-room schoolhouse. Judy grew up on the Silk Road in Fulton, and she and her siblings attended the nearby Ludding School. Here’s some of what Judy saw on her first day at Ludding:

“The school bell was on the roof and our teacher, Mrs. Downing, used a long rope to ring the start of our morning. As we walked in the door, we hung our coats on hooks and put our boots on the floor. Before class started, Mrs. Downing took roll call and led us in the Pledge of Allegiance. We sat in desks like the ones on Little House on the Prairie.  They were fastened to the seat in front of us and had inkwells in them. I didn’t have pigtails, so I didn’t ever get my hair put into an inkwell.

“The school had a potbelly stove, which burned wood for heat. There was no inside plumbing, so we had to use the outhouse—and, boy, it was cold in the winter! There was also a well for water, and in order to wash our hands or get a drink, we had to pump the well’s handle.”

Not all of us had the unique experience of a one-room rural schoolhouse, but we all had our first day as a kindergartener. For those of a tender age, our neighborhood schools could look pretty intimidating. Here’s Fultonian Paul McKinney describing what he saw on his first day of school:

“Of all my memories of Erie Street School, my first day of kindergarten was the most exciting.  Back in the early 1950s, preschools were rare and many school districts didn’t even offer kindergarten as an option.  So, for a five-year-old, going to kindergarten was a big deal.  After all, we were going inside that imposing yellow brick building that sat majestically on the corner of Sixth and Erie Street.  And, to boot, we would be there for half the day, away from home, with a bunch of other kids we might not even know.  Yikes!  Some kids even cried!

“We were finally going to see the inside of this place the older neighborhood kids talked about all the time. Walking in a straight line through those huge double doors facing Sixth Street and seeing those imposing oak steps ahead was overwhelming to a five-year-old’s eyes. Those worn oak stairs seemed to go straight up in the air forever. There had to be a hundred – maybe a million – of them.  Then there was the smell of fresh paint on the walls and the sparkle from the glistening oak floors.  All of these fused together with a faint scent of chalk dust in the air to form my first impression of Erie Street School.”

After graduating from kindergarten, the start of each school year became almost routine. We learned what to expect: sharpened pencils and a full ream of paper, new clothes and sneakers. But there were times when one person made the first day of school something special. For Sue Martin, who had a long career as a Fulton educator, meeting her second grade teacher made all the difference. Sue attended Phillips Street School, which had an end-of-the-year ritual called “Moving Up Day,” where students would meet their teacher for the next school year.

“I was completely swept away by my teacher for second grade, Mrs. Mary Robarge,” Sue wrote. “First glance told me she was a kind woman because she didn’t just smile at her pupils, she ‘smized,’ – that is, she smiled with her eyes.  Just the way she looked at us let me know that here was a teacher who was going to give me the keys to the kingdom of knowledge.  It was as if the world was now seen in Technicolor, instead of mere pale shades.  

“I must admit it was Mrs. Robarge’s jewelry that hooked me.  She wore earrings with seed pearls, rhinestones, and aurora borealis crystals.  What seven-year-old girl could resist such beautiful accessories?  Paying attention to the earrings, pins, and necklaces she wore became a daily assignment for me, one I took to heart quite seriously.”

It was more than Mrs. Robarge’s jewelry that made such an impression on Sue. She was also influenced by how her teacher taught:

“Mrs. Robarge’s class was always a safe haven, where never a cross word was spoken by her.  I don’t recall anyone being reprimanded for ill behavior, as she brought out the best in each of us.  Along with our assigned classwork, we received encouragement and respect on a daily basis.”

This week, in every classroom of our Fulton schools, teachers are making impressions on their students. Like our Memoir Project writers Judy Smith, Paul McKinney, and Sue Martin, every boy and girl will be wondering what the new school year will be like for them. With the right teacher, and with the right attitude, this could be the greatest school year ever.

Erie Street School, once one of Fulton's neighborhood schools, where each September children learned what the year had in store for them.

When Trolleys Came to Fulton

I’ve always been interested in how people got from one place to another back in the days before every household had a car. From what I’ve learned, it seems that early methods of transportation weren’t only about getting people where they needed to go; they were also an exciting experience, something to talk about around the dinner table. In the early 1900s, suppertime conversation in Fulton might have been about trolleys.

Recently, Dick Drosse, one of the stewards of our Great Bear Trail System, shared some information about the trolleys that once came through Fulton. “As I understand it,” Dick told me, “there were regular official stops the trolleys made between Syracuse and Oswego, but you could also get off at alternate locations. I’ve heard that people would get off at Great Bear and hike down to the Spring House or Gazebo to enjoy views of the Oswego River.”

Evidence that trolleys once came through the Great Bear Trails include a raised and graded rail bed with concrete footings. Finding them on the property prompted Dick to research the unique transportation system. I visited some of the websites Dick found that covered the history of Central New York trolleys and here’s what I learned:

Trolleys were an electric rail system, developed primarily to transport passengers. In the early 1900s it was common to see these streetcar-like railcars throughout New York (and other states). Electricity to power the trolleys was sent through a single cable called a catenary wire. Atop each trolley’s roof, a whip-like apparatus known as a pantograph collected power by making contact with the overhead wire.  

According to one website, the electricity to drive trolleys was created at a plant in Lyons, New York, and was then distributed to substations by way of catenary wires. Alternating Current (AC) from the plant ran through the substations’ transformers and was sent to the trolleys as Direct Current (DC). Since DC power can only be sustained for about five miles, the substations were built intermittently along routes. A few old timers in Fulton told me that once the trolley system stopped operating, those substations were turned into storage space by farmers and landowners.

Since trolleys were designed to travel ten, twenty, or more miles, catenary wires had to span great distances. To accommodate this, steel-framed catenary “bridges” were constructed, each 30 feet long and extending over the width of trolley beds. The bridges were placed every 200 feet on a trolley’s route and Dick confirmed that the measurements he’s taken of Great Bear’s trolley remnants match those dimensions.

I asked some lifelong Fultonians if they were aware of the trolleys and I heard stories about childhood afternoons spent playing in farm fields or overgrown meadows, where abandoned trolley beds lay waiting to be discovered. They described those areas where tracks once went through as cinder-filled, and the websites about local trolleys confirmed that cinders would have been available in large amounts from the Solvay Process Company.

One of the farms that trolleys went through was the Taylor dairy farm, located on Route 57 between Fulton and Phoenix. Fran Sullivan is a member of the Taylor family and she has some memories associated with the trolleys:

“Our farm was in the area where the new State Troopers barracks are on old Route 57. By the time I came along, the trolley system was long gone, but our family owned the land that trolley tracks were on from Fulton to Phoenix. The tracks ran behind my grandparents Irvin and Rose Taylor’s house and barn.

“Grandma Taylor played in a band and I heard stories that when she was younger she rode the trolley into Syracuse for their performances.  As I was growing up, my brother and I used the abandoned trolley track bed to drive our farm vehicles. For fun, he and I rode our bikes on the bed, sometimes using it for a quick path into town.”

A little more from my research on trolleys: The various rail systems in our area eventually created a company known as the Syracuse, Lake Shore and Northern Railroad, founded in 1905.  Originally the line ran from Syracuse to Baldwinsville, with a single stop at the New York State Fairgrounds. Six years later, the company had 13 trolleys leaving Syracuse daily for various points around Central New York.

The Syracuse trolley company changed its name to the Empire State Railroad and it thrived until 1931, when automobiles gained mass popularity. A map of the areas Empire served shows one set of tracks moving through the towns of Savannah, Sodus and Weedsport, heading for Rochester; another set heading toward Central Square; and then a third line to Oswego, with stops at Phoenix, Fulton and Minetto.

With a trolley’s average speed of nine miles per hour, nobody was getting anywhere fast, but I imagine the slower pace added to the enjoyment of those traveling for pleasure.  Along with destinations like Great Bear, our area’s trolley lines also traveled right through Fulton, making stops at Recreation Park’s Lake Neatahwanta and downtown Fulton’s popular Dizzy Block.

While I thought that the trolleys’ main function was to move people back and forth between Syracuse and smaller Central New York towns, I found out they were also an important way to get around our town. Fultonian Bob Green remembers as a young child waiting for the trolley to take him into downtown Fulton from his home on Route 48 near where Brennan’s Vegetable Stand is today.

One more fact I learned about the trolley’s service to our community: They weren’t always powered by electricity. Newspapers from Fulton’s late 1800s and early 1900s show horse-drawn trolley cars making their way from West Broadway to Hannibal Street by way of the busy downtown area. Maybe that’s a topic for a future column, where we can further explore how people used to get around in the city of Fulton.

Trolley cars from Syracuse were once a primary method of transportation for people in Central New York.