Jul 31, 2023
Once cosmopolitans who thought themselves sophisticated, might have asked, “Medfield? Where’s that? What’s that?” And many of the young people living in Medfield were chagrined by the frequent snide remarks about Medfield being Deadfield or Mudfield.
Times change. Gradually the transplanted city people came to recognize a bustling community after driving down Main Street. Perhaps they were first welcomed by Lord’s department store at the corner of Main and South Streets. Back in the mid-50s, Lord’s looked like an old-fashioned general store, with something for everybody. But Lord’s made a transition in the 60s and 70s.
The little old soda fountain grew longer and taller. Kids could buy their favorite ice cream, or a popsicle or ice cream sandwich, a root beer float, or a frappe of one’s choice. Hamburgers, hot dogs, and sandwiches were made to order. Soft drinks, milk, and apple pie were always available as you made yourself comfortable on the high stools at the counter.
In the hot summer of 1957, pet lovers could be seen making a beeline over to Lord’s. One regular customer had a Norwegian Elkhound mix named Roscoe. Roscoe wasn’t just the owner’s dog; Roscoe was also treated as one of the family’s best friends. That wonderful dog was in good company with that family’s 12 cats. Of course, about half of those cats were kittens that all played on a living room rug and still had growing appetites besides their mother’s milk. So, the oldest teen in the family went into Lord’s and bought four cans of Calo pet food – two for dogs and two for cats — for just 28 cents a can.
Then he headed straight over to the center of the store to buy a candy bar with his Native American head buffalo nickel. Kip Watt – 16, tall, thin, friendly, freckled, and red-haired like the rest of his family – came over to the candy display to help his young customer.
“Hey bud, what’s it gonna be today?” asked Kip.
“Well, I don’t know. I think this is gonna be one of the most important decisions of my day,” the teen said in jest. Kip patiently smiled back at the kid.
“I think I’ll have the York Peppermint Patty. They look pretty good in that shiny wrapper,” the teen said. Kip slid the glass door open to the candy from the back and pulled out one of the peppermint patties and didn’t miss the chance to give his opinion on the sweet, minty, confectionary blend of candy.
“Oh, those are really good! I like them too,” Kip said nonchalantly. The kid put his nickel on the counter and the transaction was over and done with. He walked out of the door and made note of the fact that it was just 9:00 am, and he’d only spent sixty-three cents on pet food and candy.
When the young teen got outside, the air was sizzling hot; one could see the heat radiating steamily upward from the hot asphalt on Main Street. Walking in front of the large picture window to the right of the store, the teen couldn’t help but notice all the baby green turtles moving about and swimming, enjoying the sweet life in a small plastic, shallow pool of water fitted into the middle of the display window, for the little turtles’ enjoyment and need to remain hydrated.
They were wondrously cute but had all been painted on their shells with different colors, especially bright red, blue, and yellow. Back then in the mid-20th century nobody knew how harmful that oil-based paint could be for the turtles, as the top of their shells helped them ventilate and cool off. Kids looked at the turtle menagerie in amazement, pressing their faces up against the glass, looking like children from a Norman Rockwell calendar. The kids ran home to ask mom and dad if they’d buy a turtle or two before they were all sold out. The little pets turned out to be a lot of fun. Many kids shared the little turtles with their brothers and sisters. Some resourceful kids had fun going out to their mom’s rose bushes in the backyard catching rose beetles, plucking them off the yellow and pink roses. They then kept them alive in a jar and fed them daily to their miniature prized turtles.
But within just a couple of years, the turtles were no longer sold because of the possible spread of salmonella.
During that summer of 1957, Lord’s closed briefly to expand the store. The final two days before that shutdown were just as jovial as any before them. The soda fountain did a brisk business while selling the usual menu items along with the new orange juice-drink dispenser that constantly flowed, while cascading from inside the see-through bubbler. Kids went over to the soda fountain to buy 10-cent popsicles that were the standard double size. It was said that the double size popsicle was a holdover from the 1940s as people preferred the economy size frozen treat. It wasn’t until the 70s that the single size serving became the rage of popsicle connoisseurs. Many of the young popsicle aficionados made sure they bought a bunch of the dime orange popsicles to last them for about a week before the temporary shutdown. The kids were almost like bears preparing for hibernation, eating as many popsicles as possible before the long untimely summer popsicle drought.
When Lord’s closed down for about three months, people realized what they missed. Lord’s was like the heart and energetic network of Medfield where people came to talk over coffee about the weather or what was going on in the town. Want a cup of coffee? Not to worry! It wasn’t the same with Lord’s closed, but one could go over to the newspaper store’s soda fountain, where the North Street Market is today or the one at the Clement drug store. If you wanted bacon and eggs for breakfast you’d have to go over to Nick’s Italo-American restaurant where Prudential Realty is today. Or one could possibly go to Ann’s Kitchen, a family style breakfast restaurant where the Noon Hill Grille is today.
Then in the final two weeks in October of 1957, the all-new Lord’s celebrated the grand reopening. The store was packed with all the latest products that were on the market. There were colorful sweatshirts, T-shirts, watches and other jewelry to the right of the store. On the left side there were all-season items sold, like hardware and electrical appliances. And don’t forget those bright and shiny new sleds sold in the wintertime. Further toward the left of the store, there were the distinguished Hallmark greeting cards along with a large toy department, and to the rear a new soda fountain, and nearby school supplies galore. Best of all for the young kids during that memorable October, were Halloween costumes that were authentic, unlike the ones sold today from stores like “I Party.” The new, very long candy counter was bigger and better than ever with a greater assortment. The all-new Lord’s had arrived – it was the talk of the town! Lord’s was at its zenith of popularity and one of the very few stores in Medfield that sold LP records as well as the forty-five RPM hit singles. One could buy anything sung by Elvis, Bobby Rydell, Patti Page, Frankie Avalon, the Everly Brothers, Paul Anka, Fabien, Brenda Lee, Bobby Vee, Conway Twitty and perhaps most popular of all back then, the one and only Connie Francis, with her big hit singles “Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool” and “Vacation.”
Of course, Lord’s was not the only store to undergo prominence in downtown Medfield. That all culminated in a distinctive walk down memory lane. Included in the mix back then were the First National and the A&P grocery stores. The food selection was good with fresh fruits and vegetables with lots of green lettuce and fresh tomatoes for salads. Fresh bread sold for 25 cents a loaf, and just 15 cents the very next day. Within a short matter of time, the Super Duper took over as Medfield’s first supermarket that was one of the first markets to sell frozen, fully-prepared tomato and cheese pizza that had to be baked for fifteen minutes in the oven.
The Medfield library consisted of the one main building that expanded in the later part of the 20th century. Back in the 50s, the downstairs was converted into a much-needed children’s library that featured a wide selection of Landmark novels that offered many biographies and other novels of significant American themes. There were four different women working there to answer questions. Some of the high school teens could be loud, aggressive, and unruly much of the time, though the scene wasn’t like Blackboard Jungle. But that negativity was eliminated in the 1980s and 90s with the library expansions. The gazebo turned out to be a tremendous musical addition where different bands would perform every Thursday night throughout the summer.
Nestled into the downtown of Medfield were two successful barber shops with Mike’s Barber Shop located next to Larkin’s Liquor Store. Mike’s shop was especially filled on a Friday afternoon, until Beatlemania took place in 1963 when many teens decided to let their hair grow longer in style like the Fab Four from Liverpool, Great Britain. Alfred Zullo’s Barber Shop was in the same building as the A&P Grocery Store. Alfred and his other barber were from Italy, conversing in Italian, and shared the location with Alfred’s daughter who ran a ladies beauty salon.
There was a great deal of camaraderie and friendship back in the earlier days of Lord’s, with the downtown and reminiscent setting of Medfield. Many parents would attend a baseball game down at the Medfield Little League field back in the 50s and 60s to cheer on their Little League son and team. There was 4-H that celebrated the values of young people through fun and engaging programs whether growing a vegetable and flower garden, raising dairy cows or chickens and even learning Compost 101. Science fairs at Medfield High School were a great start in FSA, Future Scientists of America with projects involving the macro-dissection of fruit flies, coat color of hamsters based on genotype, and the advantages of a high protein diet.
One very memorable event from the Medfield of old, most always took place down at the Legion Field on Pleasant Street, before the large apartment complex was built. That happening was the annual summer clam back where with just the price of a $3 ticket, everyone could eat as many steamed clams as they liked, topped off with corn-on-cob, watermelon and sodas. Under a very large shady area at picnic tables, families were welcomed and came together at the original event back then. They celebrated unity, happiness and family pride.
Now fast forward rapidly to the year 2013. Lord’s, a store many of us grew up with was closing down for good. Did some of us fail to realize what life is until we’ve now lived it? Seeing this enterprise coming to an end would have made many of us appreciate every precious, nostalgic moment of life.
In a flash, since 1957 too many things have happened, and our paths have sometimes crossed without many of us stopping to think about the significance of our life. Seeing the Lord’s in these final weeks could have been reminding us of our mortality, and the value of everyday existence, much like Thornton Wilder’s play, Our Town. With Lord’s department store closing, somehow, we’ve hopefully come to appreciate every treasured moment of a wonderful time in our lives. By astonishing coincidence, our lives have collided with the closing of this one time, nearly invincible iconic landmark.
The departure of this tradition has caused us to reflect upon an age-old question. Do we ever realize life while we live it? In a recurring theme, do we not realize what we’ve had until it’s gone? We are reminded in analogy that the still very young 24-four-year-old Todd Flaherty returned to Medfield after his US Army service in 1970. He came home and appreciated the ordinary, everyday life in the face of our humanity. In the spirit of Carpe Diem, Todd seized the day by influencing those around him, riding with the wind. He urged many of us who he loved to cherish every moment of every day and celebrate life to the fullest. And therein lies a very important parable.
Just a few years ago, three siblings of the Flaherty family, Dennis, Deirdre and Edwina went over to Lord’s for what would be one final time. As they walked down the familiar isles, they became mindful of the fact that as Lord’s was closing, so too was their joyfulness in this establishment and the great value of the memories that they’d been blessed with. The walk down that path struck them as being very nostalgic and fortunately sentimental. For all of us, we should rejoice that this point in time is not the end, but a new beginning.
For both Tommy and Nancy Kelly, their final days at Lord’s must have been bittersweet, all mixed with a tremendous, tender excitement, especially with the great send-off given to them by town historian, Richard DeSorgher. They were two of the nicest people here in Medfield. Just like them, we have all had some of the same hopes and dreams. One is born into this world to live and hopefully prosper. There was a beginning and now an end to this chapter of their lives. Anticipation became the order of the day. Are there many flashbacks from their times with Ray Lord and their father Bill Kelly? Sure there were! Are there promising foreshadows of their futures? Most assuredly, because they were very people-friendly and gregarious.
This all reminds one of a song called “Wishin’ and Hopin’” that Todd Flaherty was very fond of. It was one of those hit singles that was sold at the Lord’s counter, sung by Dusty Springfield. The words told of how one has to keep “wishin’, and hopin’, and thinkin’ and prayin’, plannin’ and dreamin’.” In the prophesy of life, at times nobody ever appreciates the ending of an era until its passing.
Gracefully, the future is now, and the grains of sand have nearly reached their destination through the hourglass. And now we remember Lord’s with a certain music in the air, and a band playing at the gazebo in the summer months. There was a flag waving out at the front of the store, where that huge, red, neon sign that beamed Lord’s, shined so brightly and near endlessly. It is so very captivating and amazing that we have forever been like the stars streaking across the night sky that have come crashing to our earth, scratching the surface and making our mark.