July 4
th
is the day I like to reflect upon the greatness of our country and its people and to celebrate and be thankful for American traditions. I feel especially fortunate to have spent most of my childhood growing up in and around Mansfield, a place I considered the ultimate All-American small town.
If you haven’t been to Mansfield lately, boy has it changed since the early ‘60s when my family moved to Tioga County, or since 1975 when I moved into North Hall as a freshman at MSC.
One of the most startling changes has been the addition of the big box stores — a Wal-Mart, a Lowe’s, even a huge Harley-Davidson store. Who woulda thought?
Back in the early ‘60s, when beloved Dr. Fred Bryan was MSC’s president, Mansfield’s Main Street was lined with family-owned stores where we did much of our shopping, supplemented by the Sears catalog, an occasional trip to Dunham’s in Wellsboro, or a big trip to Izard’s in Elmira (TRIVIA ALERT—Izard’s was across the street from The People’s Place, Tommy Hilfiger’s first retail establishment which he opened at age 18).
Depending on your vintage, you gentlemen may remember Garrison’s and Cady’s men’s shops or Frank Fish’s Family Shoe Store where you could purchase a pair of black wing tips that were a mandatory component of the interview outfit.
You ladies may remember Finesilver’s or, years later, The Hutch or the Petticoat Shop. I’ll bet there are more than a few alumnae who bought the white kid gloves required for dinner in the dining room of North Hall at Finesilver’s. The store also sold millinery (that’s hats for you millennials) in the days when hats were worn by more than those attending a royal wedding.
The Hutch was “the place” when I was in high school and college, and what fashion-conscious co-ed didn’t covet a pair of Bobbie Brooks pants and a Villager sweater?
Finesilver’s later became The Fabricana, where home ec majors could be seen pulling bolts of fabric and taking them to the counter. I loved watching the saleswomen (always women) unroll the bolts, line the fabric up with the yardstick, and measure the desired amount before gliding those shining silver shears through material that would become stylish dresses, skirts, and coats stitched to perfection in Elliott Hall.
What about those winter colds, which required medicine stronger than the infirmary could offer? Both Cole’s and Terry’s pharmacies were happy to fill your prescriptions and offered a variety of birthday cards—“paper” birthday cards—to send home to your Mom via snail mail.
Remember the old “Five and Dime-type” stores? Mansfield had three of them at one point: Sours, Witmore’s, and Preston's. Preston’s was located at the northwest end of the shopping district, next to Doc Moore’s beautiful Victorian home, which also served as his office. In addition to house calls, he also served as the MSC physician. Dr. Sanford, the other local doctor, had offices on the other side of the street in what, I believe, is most recently a pizza parlor.
When we first moved to Mansfield I was six. When I turned seven, I started receiving an allowance, which was a dime each week.
I would save my allowance until I had a quarter. Then I’d ride my Mom’s old blue bike to Sours and buy each member of my family a present. A white cotton handkerchief with some blue flowers embroidered on the corner for my Mom cost a dime. My siblings usually received pencils, which were 2 cents each. I usually bought my Dad something for his desk or a new cloth handkerchief. Dads in those days always used cloth handkerchiefs, never Kleenex.
There was the Twain Theater, owned by John J. Antonio, and Hartsock’s Bakery, where as social director of Delta Zeta sorority I bought all the cakes for our special occasions, admitting years later that I used to buy one extra which I hid in the brown bakery box under my dorm bed until the coast was clear and my roommate and I could eat the icing off the cake. There was a news shop that sold newspapers, comic books, magazines, and paperbacks. When we first moved to Mansfield, my Dad ordered the Sunday Harrisburg
Patriot
, which we would stop to pick up on our way home from church each Sunday (the Methodist Church across from the old home ec building). Sometimes he’d buy me an Archie comic book; those were the best Sundays (no offense to Rev. Sager).
There was Strait’s Hardware on the corner, and who can forget Mr. Jupenlaz’s leather shop? You could buy saddles, belts, and other leather goods made by Mr. Jupenlaz, who would wait on you wearing his leather apron. He would repair your shoes — yes, if we got holes in the soles of our shoes, we didn’t pitch them; he fixed them and they were good for another 100 miles.
The Post Office was on the southeast corner of the main intersection, and when it moved south of town, First Citizen’s National Bank moved in. There was an A&P grocery store at the other end of the block across the street from a beautiful, yellow Victorian House which years later became Mark’s Brother’s. The Barnes family owned the Sunoco Station across Main Street from the yellow Victorian, on the site which later became Pudgie’s Pizza. John McNaney had a portrait studio and there were two furniture stores: T. W. Judge and Van Noy’s. And who can forget the Mansfield Restaurant, which became the Dutch Pantry, or the famous X-Trail? The pie there was delicious. Or so I heard. Because when I was a kid, going to a restaurant was something we just didn’t do. Remember, the first McDonald’s didn’t open its doors in Mansfield until about 1979.
We did, however, frequent the Farmer in the Dell Dairy and Restaurant, west on Route 6, where a few tables could be found at a soda counter and you could order fresh ice cream made right there, or get a bottle of milk that came from the dairy cows which were housed in the same complex. Or maybe if you had a car, you traveled south on Rt. 15 to Dairyland Farms, which was the same sort of place. (A popular destination north on Rt. 15 is a topic for another blog post someday.)
Finally, Mansfield did have a few “beauty parlors,” but they weren’t downtown. Cleo’s was down on North Academy Street and her daughter, Sandy Crum, opened a place down near the baseball field where I got my first “Dorothy Hamill” wedge cut. Joanna Murphy’s Beauty Salon could be found on Newtown Hill. Many professors and business professionals got clean-cut at Joanna’s. And who can forget “Chez Gabrielle Salon De Beaute” which was in the Super Duper strip mall north of downtown? There were two barbershops in the main shopping district, one behind the post office and one next to the X-Trail. Oh, and Cooper’s Sporting Goods was in that row, as well.
Nearly everything you needed or wanted was within walking distance. In the ‘60s, when the students came to campus in the fall, every downtown business featured a sign in its window welcoming them — signs that were handmade by business owners who appreciated the support from the kids on the hill. When I was young, we walked from storefront to storefront, reading the clever and sincere messages from Mansfield’s merchants to its youthful clientele.
What memories I have of walking store to store, outside in the fresh air and sunshine, to do some shopping. For kids today, that is a memory most of them will never have as the brick and mortar retail stores are slowly becoming a thing of the past. But in its day, Mansfield’s downtown shopping district was as good as you could get.
The Writer
This blog post was written in collaboration by Amy Kelchner (‘79) and her parents, Rod (former MU president) and Joan (former First Lady) Kelchner. After 39 years in the communications field, Amy recently retired to Bellefonte, PA. Rod and Joan moved out of 121 South Academy Street in May 1998. Although urban legend says they were driven out because of the noise from the boys across the street, it was actually due to retirement.
They currently live half a year in State College and the other half in Naples, Florida.
