Road Trip: Selfies from San Diego to San Francisco

By Steve Cichon | steve@buffalostories.com | @stevebuffalo

BUFFALO, NY – It was really the trip of a lifetime.

Monica and I flew from Buffalo to San Diego, and rented a convertible to drive from San Diego to San Francisco over ten days.

We didn’t have any expectations, not knowing what to expect…. But we had a great time.

I’ll mostly let the photos do the talking, but we ate plenty of good reasonably pricing food at interesting restaurants (as well as sampling the fast food joints we don’t have in Buffalo.)

I really liked that the trip was a great mix of nature, wonderful 1940s-60s buildings and signs along the Pacific Coast Highway, and a few “big things” to see. Perfect nature and world class cities.

These photos aren’t meant to show everything we saw… Just a sampling of the fun we had and an idea of what we like when we travel. (Plus, we took about 2500 photos. !?!?!?)

San Diego

 

Between San Diego & Los Angeles

Some nice breakfasts, a stay on the Queen Mary, and a visit to the Santa Monica Pier.

Los Angeles

In LA, I found myself recognizing street names from 80s game show ticket announcements. For example (from memory): If you’d like to see the Price is Right in person, send a self-addressed, stamped envelope to Tickets, The Priiiiice is Riiight… CBS Television City, 78-hundred Beverly Blvd, Los Angeles California, 9-double oh-3-6. OK Bob!

Also, I found myself looking for scenes familiar from watching every episode of Dragnet at least five times. Then I remembered about Randy’s Donuts, and we drove there.

In other words, it was a successful trip.

LA to SF

We went to the Reagan Library is Simi Valley… and then took the coast to San Francisco. The prettiest, most treacherous part of the trip. A stretch that was about 40 miles as the crow flies took about four hours on the winding, coastal mountain roads you see in the video and photos below.

 

San Francisco

My mom is the mommiest

       By Steve Cichon
       steve@buffalostories.com
       @stevebuffalo

On this Mother’s Day and every day, its pretty clear that my mom’s been taking pretty good care of me for a long time (that couch notwithstanding) but I’m only one in a long line.

There were two sides of these cushions, both equally uncomfortable. You can see the rough burlapy material– but flip them, and it was very rubbery (and noisy) brown imitation leatherette. The naugahyde squeaked every time you even flinched. Dad’s Marine Corps “STEVE +” tattoo hanging out. Also, pack of Parliaments clearly visible in the ol’man’s pocket.

She was like another mom as big sister to a handful of her six siblings, and was like another mother to a handful of their kids as well.

She has wonderful, unique relationships with my brother, sister, and me… and loves what’s special about each of us.

Mom is also one of the toughest people I know— as a breast cancer survivor and a 25 year Lupus patient, always taking it as it comes, and often providing support for others dealing with her medical issues as much as she helps herself.

She’s pretty great! 

George Richert is quietly one of the best people you’ll ever meet

By Steve Cichon | steve@buffalostories.com | @stevebuffalo

BUFFALO, NY — I’ve had the pleasure and honor of working with George Richert twice– both at WBEN, where he was a news man and I was a producer, and at Channel 4– where I was a producer and he was an assignment editor, then reporter.

WBEN's Newsday at Noon host George Richert interviews Broadcasting legend Ralph Hubbell, 1997.
WBEN’s Newsday at Noon host George Richert interviews Broadcasting legend Ralph Hubbell, 1997. (Buffalo Stories archives)

The world of news and TV news is suffering a giant hole in the wake of George’s leaving– not just because he’s an experienced voice of reason, not just because he is a tremendous story teller, not just because of the way he is able to cut through the noise of a situation to find and tell the best story– for all of which he’ll be missed.

George is just about the greatest human being that any of us might have the chance to meet.

His style as a reporter and guy is simple, bare bones, and really perfect. He’s compassionate without being sappy. He’s direct without being overbearing. He’s kind so quietly it often goes unnoticed.

George quietly and faithfully understands and appreciates all that goes on around him, holds onto the best in it, and  tries to let the bad slip away.

He very steadfastly, without drama or affect, does what is put before him. He works in the same way people of our grandfathers’ generation grabbed their lunch pail, went to work, let the work be their reward, and showed those around them that actions mean more than words.

One of the ways you can judge a TV reporter is by looking at a photog’s face when he or she finds out they are assigned to work together that night. Often the look is like someone waved dirty socks under the photojournalist’s nose. Sometimes it’s not the look as much as the straightened back– steeling themselves for spending the day with an arrogant jerk or weirdo… or even worse– an arrogant jerk weirdo.

When you’re assigned to work with George, your day brightens and a smile crosses your face.

As he walked off the set on one his final nights at Channel 4, the note George wrote to the photojournalists who’ve toiled along side him for the past two decades shows the kind of man he is. It was shared on Facebook by Channel 4 videographer Paul Ivancic.

“The Photographers Lounge” On Feb 12, 2016 11:18 PM, “Richert, George” <George.Richert@wivb.com> wrote:
Dear Photographers,

I don’t even remember who it was who first invited me to have dinner in the Photographers’ Lounge, but I want to thank you all for tolerating it.
I’ve tried to earn the right to be there because I think it represents a sort of brotherhood with our big sister.

It’s hardly a ‘Lounge’ at all…More like a simple table for the purpose of eating fast and getting back to work.
After all, that seems to be the life of a photographer.

You run from story to story, often times finding creative ways to make something out of absolutely nothing.
Yet, when the script finally comes in, your hard work still doesn’t usually live up to the high expectations of what’s written.

Reporters like me run around looking stressed out, when you have the ultimate deadline resting on your shoulders; the final minutes and seconds before a story or a show airs.
You’re usually the first to realize that a VO wasn’t shot at all, or that certain file simply doesn’t exist, and yet you’re expected to somehow “make it live”.
Reporters like me get to sit in the car while you stay out and shoot the b-roll we need or set up the LIVE shot.
You battle the elements and clock to make a dark LIVE shot look halfway decent, but often times the only feedback you get is to “iris down!”.

For you, I love the days when your creative talents shine through and you get a lot of compliments.
But I realize most days you must feel like masterpiece painter who’s only given two colors, and ten minutes to work with.

I want you know that you’re the UNSUNG HEROES and the backbone of this industry, and I will never forget you.
My favorite part of this job has been driving around with each of you and sharing the highs and lows of our lives each day.
Those are the lifelong bonds that I will miss the most.
From the bottom of my heart… Thank You.

With Love & Respect,

George

Good luck George… I hope the Bishop knows how lucky he is to have you.

Cichon evolution: How CHEE-hoyn became SEE-shon

By Steve Cichon
steve@buffalostories.com
@stevebuffalo

BUFFALO, NY – Spelled Cichoń in its original form, my last name is Polish.

John & Mary Cichon with daughter-in-law Mary

My great-grandfather, Jan Cichon, came to Buffalo from what is now Milczany, Świętokrzyskie, Poland in 1913. He soon changed his first name to John, but never changed the way he pronounced his last name.

He said “CHEE-hoyn” as a little boy in the tiny villages he grew up in near Sandomierz in southeast Poland, and said “CHEE-hoyn” as a railyard laborer for National Aniline in South Buffalo’s Valley neighborhood.

Before John’s son– my grandfather– died in 2015, one of the many hours of conversation I had with him was how CHEE-hoyn became SY-chon (which is how Gramps said it) became SEE-shon (which is how my dad and most of my family says it.)

So, here is Eddie (SYchon) explaining how CHEEhoyn became SEEshon.

Gramps says that his mother and father– both from Poland– always said CHEEhoyn. He says when he and his nine brothers and sisters starting going to school, SYchon– the generally accepted German pronunciation– was introduced to them, and it stuck.

“You say SEEshon, right?” Gramps asked me. I told him that’s how my dad says it.

steve and gramps

“Well, your dad’s partly French,” Gramps said, cracking himself up so hard he started coughing.

I can’t find the audio– I recorded dozens of conversations with Gramps– but he also once explained that it was one of his sisters-in-law who started saying SEEshon. My grandma also said SEEshon, as did my dad, and now most if not all of the Cichons who are left in my family say SEEshon.

So that’s how my family has come to say SEEshon, although I answer to any other pronunciation from telemarketers who are just plain confused or from little old ladies wearing babushkas (or my Fair friend Jim!) telling me I say my name wrong.


Gramps tells the ol’man and me his full Polish name: Edward Valentego Wojtek Stasiu Cichoń!

Making room for Dr. King’s dream to live on

By Steve Cichon
steve@buffalostories.com
@stevebuffalo

Of course, Dr. King was talking specifically about race when he hoping for a country where we judge someone on their character– what is in their heart and how they let that shine forth– rather than the color of their skin.

But my dream expands that a little.

What if we started to look into the hearts of everyone we encounter, instead of judging them by some group they belong to? If we want America to continue to be great, we have to stop thinking that because someone doesn’t look like us, or doesn’t agree with us on an issue, that they are terrible and need to be crushed.

The country I want to live in, and the country I think Dr. King dreamed of, is one where we look past our racial, political, religious, geographical, and economic differences…

A place where we look into the hearts and souls of people of every race… every religion… every political, sexual, and economic persuasion… and we find good-hearted smart people to help us build a good-hearted smart America that brings together all of us into a place where anyone can succeed and feel welcome and not feel the hatred of another because of the color of their skin or the people they choose to love or the way they worship or the amount of money they have in the bank or the place they live or the political party they belong to…

But also that we find space in our good hearts to make room for acknowledging the hardships and struggles that so many have to overcome to even get to the starting line, let alone run the race.

Because this is America, you have the right to carry hate in your heart… but it’s not the best way.

God Bless Martin Luther King and his dream for his people and all Americans and all humans everywhere.

–Martin Luther King Day (observed) 2016

Connecting people and their memories: Micro & Macro

By Steve Cichon | steve@buffalostories.com | @stevebuffalo

I spend a lot of time thinking about things that people like to remember and how to present those things in a way that make to not only make them smile, but also realize how those memories help shape how we got where we are today.

When I’m posting a blog post here or a piece on history.buffalonews.com, I’m usually thinking about the larger Western New York audience, or maybe a slightly smaller group or community– rarely am I trying to speak to a single person with a post.

It’s really gratifying, then, when i share something that we all love and remember ends up meaning something very personal and direct for someone who sees it.

That’s happened twice in the last week.

In one instance, a man who was featured in a 1970 news clip found the clip on YouTube and left a comment.

The video, shows a pro-Richard Nixon, “anti-antiwar” march on Buffalo’s City Hall in 1970. I interviewed WBEN/Ch.4 newsman Lou Douglas several times before his death, and each time he spoke about covering this march— and his fear for the safety of the anti-war counter protester he interviewed.  The young man– now a retiree– found the video on YouTube, and took the time to finish and add to the comment he couldn’t finish 45 years ago.

hardhats

The other instance was a bit more lighthearted and fun. If you lived in Bufalo in the 80’s, it’s likely you can sing the line, “You’re gonna wanna…. Come to Lackawanna…” It’s all because of this commercial, which I posted on YouTube a few years ago.


The Ridge Dining Furniture Family– always featured in these spots which ran through the 80’s and into the 90’s– wrote to say they thought they’d never see one of these spots again.

ridgedining

 

 

 

I explained that I found this commercial on a newscast that I had recorded as a kid– but also that I’d be on the lookout now for any more that I find.

It’s fascinating and edifying for me to reconnect our city to its past– and when it means something extra special to a particular person or family– its even more rewarding.

Christmas in Parkside: Black Squirrel, Books & Beer at the PM

Parkside owned businesses are spreading holiday cheer with a true “shop local” event on Wednesday.

pm

The neighborhood folks connected with The Parkside Meadow (owners Nancy Abramo & Len Mattie, Summit Ave.), Black Squirrel Distillery (co-founder Matthew Pelkey, Woodward Ave.) and Buffalo Stories LLC (owner Steve Cichon, Parkside Ave.) are joining together on Wednesday, December 16, at The PM, 2 Russell Street, for a Black Squirrel tasting and book signing by Cichon.

Buy one of his books, he'll buy you a beer! The signing at The Parkside Meadow on Wednesday, December 16th, will be Cichon's only time Cichon signs his five books this December.
Buy one of his books, he’ll buy you a beer! The signing at The Parkside Meadow on Wednesday, December 16th, will be Cichon’s only time Cichon signs his five books this December.

The warm “everyone knows ya” feeling of a corner gin mill and the selection of locally brewed beers on tap at The Parkside Meadow make it a great place for a couple of local boys to make their locally produced wares available as Christmas presents.

Pelkey will be lining up cocktail samples and special holiday gift packs from the spirit distilled a few blocks away on Elmwood Avenue starting at 6pm in the Parkside Meadow. Cichon will have his 5 Buffalo history books– including local volumes “The Complete History of Parkside” and ” St. Mark Parish: The Loving Legacy of Msgr. Francis Braun and Sr. Jeanne Eberle”– available along with his promise that if you buy one of his books that night, he’ll buy you a beer.

Mathew Pelkey will be offering Black Squirrel samples and gift packs.
Mathew Pelkey will be offering Black Squirrel samples and gift packs.

You also have the chance to give the gift of a great Parkside meal– that night and anytime, Parkside Meadow gift certificates are available in any denomination. The Parkside Meadow is quickly becoming the meeting place for folks in our part of North Buffalo– and there’s never been a better reason to stop by than to enjoy Black Squirrel samples and “buy a book, I’ll buy you a beer.”

What Labor Day means for me and my family

Both of my grandpas typify what Labor Day is about.

monic steve grandparents
With my grandpas Jim Coyle (left) and Eddie Cichon (right), and Grandma Coyle and my beautiful bride on our wedding day in 2001. The more weddings I attend, the more grateful I am that I had three grandparents there on my wedding day.

Grandpa Coyle was poor, and I think it’s fair to say didn’t have many prospects, until his boss at the Boys Club helped get him an apprenticeship with the Glaziers Union. After years as a glass worker, he ran Local 660 for decades.

gramps and glaziers
That’s Grandpa Coyle, in the center, next to the sailor, with the checked jacket and the rip in the photo. He was a glazier– a glassworker– and eventually spent a couple decades as the funds administrator for the Glaziers Local 660. This is from c.1953.

Grandpa Cichon started as a laborer at National Aniline, but learned a trade to become a tinsmith. He put in 40 years there.

gramps racing
Grandpa Cichon usually had no fewer than 3 or 4 jobs at a time, including regular work through the ticket takers and bet takers union at Memorial Auditorium, War Memorial Stadium/Rich Stadium, and Buffalo Raceway.

Both men’s willingness to work hard for better lives for themselves and their children is now also being enjoyed by their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Sure, organized labor is about 40 hour, 5 day work weeks… But to me, it’s about building American families for generations.
Labor Day also makes me think of my time as a union member, when the company that owns Channel 4 locked out half of our NABET-25 bargaining unit.
Technicians (studio crew, engineers, master control operators) weren’t allowed to work through contract negotiations, while newsroom staff (producers, photographers, editors) were forced to work with (incompetent) replacement workers.

steve locked out
As someone who has only ever wanted to show up and do my job, it was a time I’ll never forget– when the owners of Channel 4 wouldn’t let some of its hardest working, longest tenured employees come to work to provide for their families.
I don’t always agree with every union stance, but whenever I hear someone say unions are past their usefulness, I pray that they never learn first hand how useful a union can be.

The 1,000th look at critical, mundane: What BN Chronicles is all about

By Steve Cichon
steve@buffalostories.com
@stevebuffalo

Every week, I read a week’s worth of The Buffalo News from some gone-by year, looking for articles, photos, and ads that shed some interesting light on our past, help provide some clarity to our collective community memory of the great people, places, and institutions of Western New York, and help explain where we are now.

Western New York historian Steve Cichon combs through old editions of The Buffalo News to gather material for BN Chronicles. (Harry Scull Jr./Buffalo News)
Western New York historian Steve Cichon combs through old editions of The Buffalo News to gather material for BN Chronicles. (Harry Scull Jr./Buffalo News)

This week, The News will publish my 1,000th BN Chronicles look into Buffalo’s past.

We are all excited and thankful about the renaissance Buffalo is currently enjoying, but I think projects like BN Chronicles help us to remember — even amid all that is new and exciting — what truly makes Buffalo unique.

Every place has history, but few places have so much, so varied, so unheralded history as Buffalo.

In a city like New York or Boston or Chicago, there is likely at least one college professor who is an expert on every fascinating facet of those cities’ past. Books have been written that tell the complete stories of nearly every neighborhood, group of people, and institution.

Here, we are playing 50 years of catch up. For a half-century, as a community, we had a general self-defeatist attitude thinking that if it had to do with Buffalo or its past, it was probably not worth thinking about or keeping.

Now we realize our strength is in a future planted firmly in and building upon our past. The way to build Buffalo’s future is to collect and codify its past making for a deeper, richer experience not only for us, but also for the newcomers to our city who arrive daily.

It is the big things and the little things. Buffalo was suffering from a sort of mass depression, and many of the great moments of our pop culture history limped away and vanished unnoticed. Now that the depression is lifted, we are wondering what became of the way we have lived our Buffalo lives over the last 50 or 60 years.

In the ’50s and ’60s, we steamrolled our past with good intentions, expecting our city of 600,000 people to grow to 2 million. We wanted to build roads and giant skyscrapers to be prepared. In the ’70s and ’80s, the hemorrhaging of industry, jobs, and people left us reeling and wondering if the last person leaving Buffalo would turn off the light. The ’90s and 2000s saw more people realizing our resilient and friendly people were our strength, and seeds were planted to show off our assets and bring people back.

As the writer of the BN Chronicles, I enjoy taking the opportunity to share the snapshots in time that help tell us the story of how we got to the place we are right now. How our industries wound up decimated. Why the waterfront, Buffalo schools and Peace Bridge have been difficult puzzles to solve for years. But also the good news. The men and women who believed in this city when few others did. The sometimes terrible, but certainly well-intentioned and hopeful development that took place through the years. The people and places who through it all kept Buffalo the wonderful blue-collar spirited community it remains today.

But along with the heavy lifting, come some of the stories of our lives that have been lost to time. We are able to look at the city where you could not walk more than two blocks without hitting a corner gin mill, a firebox, and a milk machine. Maybe we are reminded to tell our kids and grandkids that when we did well in school, we took our report cards to Loblaw’s to get a free day at Crystal Beach.

Whether it is the earth-shattering headlines or the warm and fuzzy “whatever-happened-tos,” it is more than just nostalgia. The most important piece of what happens in the stories of the BN Chronicles is taking a step back and seeing how all these vestiges of our past have shaped who we are today. It is what makes us in Buffalo unique, and each story told adds to the critical mass that is bringing new life to our community.


This first appeared at history.buffalonews.com.

aaaBuffaloStoriesBNChronicles Watermark

 

The K-Mart Radio Network was my favorite radio station

By Steve Cichon
steve@buffalostories.com
@stevebuffalo

I was 11 when we moved to Orchard Park.

We lived within walking distance of Taffy’s, McDonald’s, and K-Mart, and when we were bored, we’d shake the couch cushions (or make a small raid on Dad’s change bowl) for a buck or two and head to one of those places to waste some time and get something to eat. I laugh at the thought of me at 11– ordering a small coffee and a hamburger at McDonald’s because it was something like $1.24.

When we had no money– or a lot of money– we’d go wander around K-Mart for hours. Never causing any trouble, just browsing and wishing… Toys, bikes, camping equipment, records, tapes, CDs, electronics, tools, books… We spent A LOT of time and most of our money in there.

The store was about where the Lowes and Tops now stand on Southwestern Blvd. It looked like the K-Mart in this video– But all the K-Marts built in the 70s looked like that.

This K-M-R-T jingle used to play incessantly on the PA at K-Mart… along with the big voiced announcer reading specials and always ending with “Thank you for shopping your Orchard Park K-Mart.”

I snagged this audio clip from this YouTube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8t5TYw2bkOk