Centenarian recalls life in Schenectady and world travels

A couple of years later, as the first automobile was being driven around the Electric City, she came into the world. It was June 29, 1900.

At the age of 102, the parishioner of St. Joseph's Church in Schenectady has sharp recollections of the century just passed.

Black and white

The early 20th century, Miss Sartoris recalled, was a time when General Electric employed tens of thousands of people.

"When they came out of work at 3 o'clock in the afternoon," she said, "Erie Boulevard was black with working men" walking home from the plant.

On Thursday and Saturday nights, the city was the opposite: bright with the lights of State Street stores like Barney's, Carl Co. and Woolworth's, which stayed open till 9 p.m. to let local residents do their shopping.

Chatty T.R.

She and her five younger siblings spent their time putting caps on the streetcar rails in front of their house, so the cars would run over them with a bang as they rushed by.

"Some people thought we were a noisy bunch!" she recalled gleefully.

Family life

Her father worked in G.E.'s turbine division, a common career in Schenectady back then. When she talked with her friends, she said, they often discussed their fathers: "Some of them worked at the locomotive company and some at G.E. -- and some had the nerve to go into business for themselves!"

Owning one's own business, she explained, was considered "daring."

Education

But another school event was just as interesting: On Friday afternoons, Rev. Joseph Henrich (pastor of St. Joseph's parish from 1915-'35) would come to the school to moderate the "Lincoln-Douglas debates."

"We studied what each of the men said," the centenarian explained. Each class would choose an issue, like the rights of black and white citizens, and debate another.

Beer and movies

"Beer was a very popular drink," she said seriously. "We would go to the back door, ring the bell and hand [the bartender] a pail and ten cents, and he'd hand it back, filled with beer."

Weekends were a time for movies and church. "For 10 cents on Saturday afternoons," she said, "all the kids in the neighborhood could go" to the flicks.

The young girl was partial to one particular serial: "The Perils of Pauline."

"That went on for weeks and weeks!" she enthused. After spending the day reading the subtitles on the silent movies, "we'd come home and say to my mother, `He said this and she said that.'"

Once, her mother became so confused at all the quotes recited by her children that she decided to go to the movies herself. "She came home and said the same thing: `He said this and she said that!'" Miss Sartoris said, laughing.

Great War

Everyone in her neighborhood would buy newspapers for about a penny apiece to keep up on what was happening "over there."

"That's when margarine came into use -- you know, a butter substitute," she added.

Graduation

Graduation ceremonies were held on a Sunday night. "Father Henrich was so pleased that he had the graduation in the church, and we wore caps and gowns!" Miss Sartoris remembered. "The man that rang the church bells -- you never heard them ring so loud in your life. People came who didn't have anyone" in the graduating class.

As gifts, Miss Sartoris received a number of $2.50 gold pieces. She was so proud of them that she saved them for years before gradually giving them away.

Two of her classmates became priests: Revs. Frank Beuchler and Frank Neuman. Miss Sartoris said that one female friend owned a car, so a group of classmates traveled to Albany together when the men were ordained.

Off to work

Often, however, Miss Sartoris would be called over to the meat department to help out the German butcher who worked there. The store would have ham sales, and Miss Sartoris' job was to match each customer's voucher to the ham they were buying to be sure they didn't get a better-quality ham than they were paying for.

In 1918, the young woman took driving lessons and joined a very exclusive group: car owners.

"When I was 18, I got my first car, a Dodge," she recalled. "When I drove that into Erie Boulevard -- oh, boy!"

Dirty laundry

"My mother would boil the sheets on the stove," Miss Sartoris said. "After I started to work, one of the first things I did was buy her an electric washer. I paid three dollars a week on it from Barney's; it took two years [to pay it off]."

Soon, Miss Sartoris moved on to accounting at the dairy. She noted conspiratorially that the owner "had a husband that wasn't true. He went with all the women that came in. At that time, milk was delivered to homes; well, he got into some of the houses. He made her life miserable!"

The centenarian said the situation puzzled her so much that she took a psychology-type course at Union College to "find out what made [that family] tick."

Tragedies

World War II came and went, but Miss Sartoris confesses that she was deeply involved in keeping the dairy in business and paid little attention to news of the war.

The male employees of the dairy were exempt from being drafted because they were needed to bottle milk.

Globe-trotting

In the meantime, her childhood love of geography evolved into a love of travel. With her sister, Lorraine, Miss Sartoris went all over Europe, and then to Mexico and more exotic spots, including Polynesia, Alaska and Antarctica.

"Air travel came into being a lot sooner than we expected it would," she remarked, adding that seeing the world from 30,000 feet up never bothered her. Her nephew, Ralph, became a pilot, "and I was his second passenger."

She recalls one overseas trip on a 40-passenger plane during which she became so engrossed in the novel she was reading that she paid no attention to the entire flight!

In her travels, Miss Sartoris managed to meet several presidents, including Harry Truman. "He just happened to be in the office the time our trip took us there," she said casually. "The Secretary of State brought him [out]," and the President shook hands with the tour group.

Last Sartoris

"I don't like it," she said flatly. "My fondest dreams would not be to live to bury my mother and father and all the children."

Although she said tearfully that her sister's death leaves her with little to keep her going, she maintains an active schedule. She likes to sleep late in the morning and has a large appetite -- neighbors come in to cook and clean for her, although she lives on her own -- and she exercises every day, walking up and down her hallway.

She even sleeps on the second floor of her home and says, "I don't think it does me any harm."

Faith

As for the content of her prayers, she said, "I just ask the Lord every night to take all that have passed away into heaven and watch over those that are here."

Every night, Miss Sartoris said, she goes to bed early to relax and listen to news programs on the radio. She was upset about Sept. 11, 2001, and had some advice for the U.S. government: "When I went to school, we didn't even know there was an Iraq. I don't think we should [invade], because we'll lose boys that are precious to us. The people that would have to declare a war, why don't they think of that?"

She wants to be remembered for something simple: "I was good to all my nieces and nephews and my brothers and sisters. I hope they don't think I passed them by, 'cause I didn't."

(09-26-02) [[In-content Ad]]