Describe your home, your neighborhood,
and the town you grew up in.
Part One: When and Where were you born?
Well, when was on February 12 19??, I am not going to tell you the year because that is private. Sufficient to say I am in my 60's and one of the earlier Baby Boomers. I was born in Flushing Hospital in Flushing, Queens, New York but I consider Whitestone, Queens, New York my home town. Whitestone is right next to Flushing and that is where the hospital was.
The house I grew up in was 15-19 Parsons Blvd. I did an earlier post on it, HERE. This other post talks about this home and the one in Florida. I guess I'll have to make another post about that home.
But here is some more info I did for my family history book.
The family story goes that my grandfather George Joseph Hartmann, Sr. and my Dad, George Joseph Hartmann, Jr built this house. I have pictures of my grandparents and my Dad and his siblings in the home. Here they are in the dining room. I remember that furniture, wall paper and drapes. Recent searches on the internet state the house was built in 1935 and this picture was from 1942. My Dad would have been 23 years old in 1935 and 30 in 1942.
I hope to do some land record search to find more information.
When you think about, my grandfather, a 1st generation American, owned his own home was a sign of their hard work and dedication to improving their life style. His father immigrated to America from a small village in Germany in 1868 and died in a tenement building in 1915. My Dad was the first college graduate in the family another sign that education was very important to our family.
Here I am in front of the house in 1949. The top small window was my bedroom and the front large window was my parents’ bedroom. There is also one bedroom in the back that I shared with my brother for a while; I bet it was until Donald was born. The bay window was the living room. I can remember watching for my parents to come home from that window when I was left alone with my younger brothers. I was 10 & 11 when this happened.
In this picture below you can see there were no homes across the street when we lived there.
A Google Map, marked with where I went to school and other fun things.
This is a property description I found on line.
Year for: 2013 Tax Year: 2014
Date Determined: 29 Nov 2013
Market Value (Land only): $253,000
Total Market Value: $647,000
Assessed Value (Land only): $14,336
Total Assessed Value: $34,282
My Dad sold the house for $11,000 in 1959. That is a big change in the value of the home. Now I can say I lived in a house worth more than half a million.
It had three bedrooms, 1 and a half baths, kitchen with eating area, formal dining room, living room and a finished basement. The front yard had two levels and the back yard had a lower and upper level.
Here is how the house looks now.
Here are some sketches I made of each floor of the house. Now remember I left when I was 11 so they are not accurate.
I drew these on graph paper and on the top I wrote some memories in pencil so you can't read them. It is even hard to read my ink.
Jumping off of the old kitchen table to the floor.
Learning to roller skate in the basement.
Where all the Christmas gifts where hidden, in the closet with the storm window storage, in winter it would be the screen.
Being scared of the furnace.
The old washing machine with with rollers to wing out the cloths.
Mom carrying the laundry up two flights of stairs to hang them out to dry.
Memories: My Dad made homemade fruit cake and he soaked it in some alcohol, maybe rum, and would store them in the front closet by the door until he gave them away.
Doing homework on the Dinning Room Table and hating every minute of it.
Doing home work on the kitchen table and my Dad yelling at me because he didn't like the way I made my "y"s because it wasn't the correct formal way we were taught in school and comparing that to feeding me only whip cream, it was just wrong.
Playing word games at dinner, like think of all the words that end with "at".
Kept our dog Beaver outside in an alcove under the mud room.
Looking out the front Bay Window waiting for my parents to come home from a date when I babysat my brothers.
The Top Floor
Locking myself in the bathroom while my parents were gone with my brother George for his First Holy Communion. I screamed for help but no one came.
Laundry being hung out the back window, the clothesline when across the back yard to the wall at the end of the property that was up the hill.
Sliding down the stairs on the carpet on our bellies.
We had company once and my parents gave their room to the guest and my Mom came in to sleep with me and I kicked her out of my double bed.
My closet in my room was over the stairs so it had a slant in it and was small.
I would really like to go back and see this old house.