Well, that shiny blue go-kart at Fox's was a little pricey for my budget just as I feared. I did a little better at Blackburn's. In the box of jukebox cast off 45's that Sam DeAngelo brings every month or two, I picked up "All in the Game" by Tommy Edwards and "See ya' later Alligator" by Bill Haley and his Comets, snagging the pair for half a rock. Plus Bud told me a real knee-slapper about Charlie Choo-Choo I can't wait to share with Pigman, Bert and the McGowan brothers… but, oh yeah, I was going to resume our circuit of early 50's businesses around the downtown area.

From Park Street we leave the Beaver and Smitty holding down the fort (just a couple of years back we would have been leaving a very bemused Bill McGee behind the counter of Bill's Spa, Blackburn's predecessor) watching the teens roll their nickels and dimes into the juke as they jitter-bugged to some new dance music they were calling rock n' roll.

Starting up Pine Street at No. 2 is a small butcher shop and a chunky ruddy-faced man in a white apron smiling from behind the meat case; if we were to peek into his closet at home we would see nearly a dozen examples of his trade mark fashion, scottish tam-o-shanters in all varieties of tartan plaid. It's one of our city's better-known butchers, Bill Abbott.

Across the way Salvatore Caruso peers from the window of the Barber Shop DeLuxe while awaiting his next customer. In the coming years Mr. Caruso will be ably assisted by his four sons, Henry, Ronald, Robert and David. All five will cut my hair at one time or another and Bob coached the 6-8 year old "Y" basketball team (the mighty Leopards, league champs in 1956) I played on in the Attleboro YMCA Youth League.

In quick order come the Loyal Order of the Moose at 9 Pine and Turo Jewelry Service at 25, with Makepeace on one side of the Dunham intersection and Tom Dennis's spa on the other (walking home from Tuesday and Friday night high school basketball games at the Armory on those winter nights, a steaming cup of Tom Dennis's hot cocoa topped with whipped cream warmed the bellies of Dave Hardt, Mike Walsh and me for the rest of the trudge; if we were lucky one of the team members might pop in while we were there - maybe Bruce Rigby or later on, "Tiger" Balser the rangy center, or sparkplug Jim Duffy).

Past Dunham the Pine Street Bakery and Zito's meat market and Malandruccolo's Grocery were pretty much the extent of businesses on the "uptown end" of Pine.

Prior to leaving Pine Street, your guide would be remiss if I failed to mention one of Attleboro's favorite summer remembrances. Each summer in the spacious parking lot of the Moose Hall (later, in a swap of ungulate species, the building will become the Elks Hall and later still Attleboro Police Headquarters…) Colbert Bros. would hold their carnival each late summer.

For about a week our occasional football/baseball field was transformed into a midway of bright pennants and booths rapidly cobbled from 2 by 4's, offering games of chance (slim and none) and fast food. I access the carnival by way of Union Street, passing the Cities Service gas station. The wheel of fortune sends out its staccato chatter; passing the booths, hot dogs, cotton candy, popcorn and pizza entice my senses. Teen girls in bobby socks, poodle skirts and tight sweaters scream on cue and clutch their laughing boyfriends on the Roto-rocket thrill ride. I can't help but notice that as he raises the tattooed arm not surrounding her shoulders and insouciantly pats his pomaded jelly roll hairstyle back in place (although as best I can tell not a hair has moved a millimeter…)

Living less than a minute's walk away, each year I try to get there just as the carnies start setting up. Proximity has its advantages - the summer I turn 12 I am hired to wash, peel, cut and deep fry potatoes at the French Fry stand. The first hour or two I was feeling pretty full of myself standing high above everyone, French frying French fries as my schoolmates and friends looked on with envy. ("Hey Fats, look - McAvoy works for the carnival!") If they placed an order I may engage them in conversation concerning my bright future with Colbert Bros, pointing out that resuming one's education in the sixth grade was sheer folly in the face of being recruited as a rising young star with Colbert Bros.

As I was earning my $1.25 per hour I found I couldn't be making the midway with my pals, strikin' a pose and bird-doggin' the pretty girls, so I soon came to see the downside of carnival employment. I did finish the week, but I never hit the road circuit with Colbert's. As the carnival was being broken down after the final night, I steeled myself and approached my boss, "Rocky," to collect my week's pay and deliver the bad news. As I pocketed my $37.50 I looked away from Rocky's eyes and sadly related that I would not be "traveling on" with the rest of my new carny pals. "Fer cryin' out loud kid, of course you're not leaving town - you're 12, fer chrissake, what the hell are ya' thinking??"

A question I have heard more then once over the years since that summer carnival in 1960…

Oh well - after the lot's cleared maybe I'll holler for Bobby Chamberlain, Jay Gilmore, Billy Dunphe, Dave Rushlow and Georgie Jenkins and we'll bang the ball around. See you next week.

Footnotes plus

If one is interested in local history, the well-done Larry Fitton book is a must-read and still available at several venues, the Council for Aging being one. Access the Historical Commission website for more…

Condolences are in order to Doug and Dale Carey (Dale is an old friend) on their brother Edward's death, as well as to the family of Phyllis Andrew, Chet Bodinski and Marcia Legg, all loved ones of longtime friends or family.

Expressions of sympathy to the Stinson family upon the passing of a worthy opponent from North Attleboro I faced in many football, basketball, and softball games when we both were younger, Carl "Moose" Stinson.

Last though not least, prayers and condolences to Doug and Michelle Murray and their family upon the end of a tragically brief life of "one of heaven's littlest angels", Dylan E. Murray. Vaya con Dios, little guy…

Be good to each other and try to do a good turn daily. Peace.

THOMAS McAVOY of Attleboro is a community columnist.