Main Street

Main Street

Main Street was the hub of my hometown, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. In 1950, the population was roughly 30,000, and the business district was five or six blocks long. There were no strip malls, or shopping centers; no mercury vapor streetlights, one-way streets, or four-lane thoroughfares. The streets in and out of town tailed off into the surrounding countryside without a whimper. McDonald's had not come to Fond du Lac yet and with few exceptions, retail business was transacted on Main Street.

I frequently accompanied Mom or Aunt Helen on shopping errands. When I needed new shoes, Fitzsimons Shoe Store at the corner of First and Main was the preferred destination. I loved to go to Fitzsimons. The place smelled like fresh leather and a pair of new shoes was a treat. The clerk sat me down and pulled the little foot bench up in front of me. Getting the proper "fit" was a big deal, then. He took my right shoe off and made me stand on the foot measure while he slid the guide down to bump gently on the tip of my big toe.

Once my foot size was determined, he disappeared to the back room to retrieve several boxes of the requested style. Mom thought tie oxfords were the healthiest kind of shoe for a growing child. He opened the first box of brown. After lacing the right shoe, he slipped it on my foot, adjusted the tongue, and tied it. When I stood, he squeezed the sides of my foot to gauge the width. Then came the fun part.

The magic x-ray machine sat in the middle of the sales room floor. It stood about chest high and was too wide for me to wrap my arms around. There was a small platform across the front of the unit and once up on the step, I slid my foot, shoe and all, into the five-inch wide slot there. On top of the machine was a brow rest. I leaned forward, rested my forehead against it, and peered down into the machine.

There, in the darkness, the bones of my right foot glowed an eerie green. I watched my toes wiggle inside my shoe. Mom and clerk both looked to be sure that there was plenty of room for the growing foot. Of course, the purpose of this gimmick was to sell shoes and it worked on my family. We never shopped for shoes anywhere else. In later years, this exposure to x-rays was determined to be dangerous and Fitzsimons removed the machine from their store. Shopping for new shoes lost much of its allure with the subtraction of that equipment.

Frequently, when we had completed the new shoe errand, we crossed the street and had lunch at the Lion's Cafeteria. The Lion's was a venerable downtown landmark with a cafeteria feature that was still a novelty for me. This was a time before the advent of the school lunch program and its cafeteria style meals. The Lion's was the only restaurant that I had ever been in where I took a tray and slid it down the race of gleaming metal tubes. When I saw something I wanted, I just placed it on my tray and when we got to the end of the line, Mom or Aunt Helen paid.

Aunt Helen enjoyed shopping at O'Brien's Dry Good Store and I liked to go along for the fun of it. She purchased her nylons on the first floor. There, four long rows of glass-top counter cases displayed boxes of fancy linen hankies with hand embroidery, ladies girdles, and slips, and the object of our expedition, nylons. Back then, nylons came in sets of two stockings each, in a variety of shades. Taupe was Helen's preferred color. They were full fashioned, which meant that each had a seam up the back. Additionally, nylons came in different deniers: the higher the denier, the more opaque the stocking. A twenty denier looked like it could stand without benefit of a leg.

Arlen Broxmeier staffed the counters in O'Brien's first floor and knew her clientele by name. There was a complex ritual associated with buying nylons. They came in seven by ten inch flat boxes and each box held three pair of a certain size, shade, and denier. A paper wrap neatly enfolded each separate pair in the box. It was easy to see why the viewing of prospective purchases in the nylon department had to be done with the help of Miss Broxmeier. I can only imagine the subsequent knot of stockings that would result from turning today's shoppers loose on all of that bare merchandise.

Miss Broxmeier produced one box of product, maybe a second for comparison, and placed it smoothly onto the top of the glass case. She deftly lifted the lid, set it under the box, and carefully folded back the paper wrapper to expose the thigh end of the top pair. Then, to demonstrate to Aunt Helen just how the selected shade and denier would look on the leg, she delicately lifted the hem and slid her closed fist into the stocking far enough to get the needed impression.

She did this with sufficient care so as not to disturb the neat creases pressed into the nylons. Often, it was necessary to compare two or more shades before a final decision could be reached. Any boxes of merchandise that weren't selected were carefully closed and replaced in the glass case. She was so graceful, so genteel in her presentation that any customer surely thought they were receiving extra special treatment.

Similar attention could be experienced on the second floor of the Fond du Lac Store. It was located kiddy-corner from O'Brien's Dry Goods. Once inside the Fond du Lac Store, we took the Otis elevator up from "First floor" just for the ride. When the door opened again, the attendant said, "Second," and we stepped out directly into "Hats."

There a small sea of vanities, each with mirror and chair greeted shoppers. Hats for the trying were displayed on hat stands. A customer sat at the vanity of her choice and the clerk brought a variety of of the latest millinery fashions to be evaluated. The customer could even get an appreciation of the rear view by using the little hand-held mirror in conjunction with the vanity. When a decision was made to purchase one of the wispy creations, it was carefully packaged for the safe trip home in an attractive hatbox with a cord handle.

All downtown stores were open every day except Sunday. Additionally, merchants kept late hours on Friday evening. It was a long-standing Fond du Lac tradition to proceed to the business district after supper on Fridays. Stores did brisk business with all the foot traffic. Farmers came to town with their children and enjoyed a fish fry dinner first, and then did some serious shopping. City residents frequently went downtown on Friday night and my family was no exception. Even if we didn't need anything, we went just to stroll up and down Main Street and socialize with friends and neighbors encountered there.

Friday night was the focus of another venerable, Wisconsin tradition; Friday night Fish Fry. Virtually every self-respecting tavern and restaurant in the territory offered this option out of self defense. Very few individuals chose something other than fish from the Friday menu. It was common for people to travel a far distance to eat fried fish at their favorite establishment. Generally, fried fish is fried fish but each enterprise managed to have their own special twist to the theme. Of course, Wisconsin tradition dictated that the meal be washed down with a glass of ale.

The other Friday night tradition involved a stop on the way home at one of the drive-ins. The north-side crowd frequented the Beer Hut on west Scott Street. It was a quaint place. The building was round and surrounded by parking slots that radiated out from it. The Beer Hut specialized in root beer drinks but made all manner of cold ice cream treats. There was a full-sized, working, circus carousel along the east side of the parking area. Occasionally it would be running so that other children and I could ride on the wooden animals.

South-siders loved Gilles Frozen Custard on south Main. Gilles made their own frozen custard right on the premises and used it in conjunction with an assortment of yummy syrups and nuts in the most delicious combinations. They also made hot sandwiches, fries, etc. Whatever we ate there was certain to be delicious.

Life was good in the late forties and the early fifties. Main Street looks very different now. Except for Edith's Bridal and Leath Furniture, none of the retail establishments that I remember is still there. Little is open on Friday later than 5 PM and the Friday night stroll no longer exists. A Chinese Buffet occupies the Lion's Cafeteria building. The Main Street theaters are both closed. The Fond du Lac Store and O'Brien's are now office buildings. A strip mall sits where the Lakeside Outdoor Theater and the Beer Hut once lived. The good news is that the Gilles Drive-in still offers their wonderful Frozen Custard treats and continues to be a local favorite in my hometown, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.