#42 Trolley in an Evening Gown
April 22, 2008 – 6:00 amHere is a neighbor’s story of her life in West Philadelphia during World War II.
My father died in the Philadelphia Naval Hospital in 1939 after having had cancer for two years. I was just 12. He had been in the Army during World War I in charge of bringing American soldiers’ bodies home.
After he died, Mother had to go to work and was fortunate to find a job at the Quartermasters (The Quartermaster Depot) as a seamstress, sewing Army uniforms. I remember when she broke her arm and had to stay home. It was the happiest time of my life because she was there when I came home for lunch.
My brother had to leave high school to find a job when our father died. For a time he worked at the Fisher Machine Company and then went into St. John’s Seminary in Little Rock Arkansas. He was there three years when war broke out and he enlisted in the Navy.
My sister enlisted in the SPARS (Coast Guard) where she remained in the Philadelphia area working as a typist.
My husband attended St. Joe’s Prep, leaving in his junior year to join the Army, where he served in the Philippines.
Some of my high school friends and I planned a weekend in New York City. As we entered the Hotel Pennsylvania, we saw sailors sleeping on lounges in the lobby. The desk clerk reprimanded us for having a room when the sailors couldn’t get one. Such was the severe shortage of rooms.
After I graduated from high school, Mother took me to Atlantic City for a week, where we sat on the boardwalk in front of the Heinz Pier, searching the Want Ads in the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. We saw an opening at Westinghouse in the steam division. I worked there 5 ½ days a week, first in the steno pool and then as a secretary.
Sometimes we would go to dances at Fort Dix, wearing evening gowns and traveling on the #42 trolley into town where we would be bussed to New Jersey with other young girls. At home there were no cars, no gas, and no dates, since most of our classmates were in the service. We did go to Chez Vous out at 69th Street, a roller skating rink during the week but where dances were held on weekends.
We were all glad when the war ended and the boys came home again.
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