Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Judge Frank X. Kryzan

Photo of Frank X. Kryzan being sworn in for his first term as Youngstown mayor in January 1954.
Frank X. Kryzan (l.) being sworn in for his first term as Youngstown mayor. Youngstown Vindicator, January 2, 1954 via Google News Archive

He was the mayor of Youngstown when I was born and one of the political names I grew up hearing in Youngstown. He served as mayor during a time when Youngstown was still a developing community. The new Chaney High School, an addition to East High School, North High School, and Cardinal Mooney would all open during these years to serve the Baby Boom generation. A new Playhouse building was under construction as well as residential homes and urban housing projects. Market Street and Oak Street bridges were replaced. Exits from the Ohio Turnpike were opened and plans for Youngstown’s freeway system were underway. He was mayor during the time when population began to shift from the city to the suburban townships around Youngstown.

It was a time of rising organized crime activity in the Valley. Kryzan and his new police chief Paul Cress (who was later police chief at YSU during my student years) warned gambling interests not to set up in Youngstown. On one hand the Jungle Inn was fined for delinquent taxes. On the other, bombings related to organized crime were on the rise. It was a challenging time to be mayor and federal law enforcement in this era was not focused on organized crime.

Frank X. Kryzan was born on November 27, 1913 in Youngstown. He graduated with a law degree from Youngstown College. He served in World War II in the United States Army, receiving the Purple Heart, the Bronze Star and two Combat Stars for his service. He married Carolyn Siembieda of Campbell and they had two children, Carol and Alice.

Prior to winning the mayor’s office in November of 1953, he served as president of City Council. He won a hard fought race against three-term Republican mayor Charles P. Henderson, edging him out by 1796 votes. Henderson had become increasingly unpopular because of his police chief Edward J. Allen, who aroused controversy over his law enforcement efforts, including a campaign against pornography. One of Kryzan’s first decisions was to replace him with Paul Cress.

Kryzan served three terms as mayor, deciding to run (unsuccessfully) for a judgeship in 1959. His wife Carol passed away in 1970. In 1971, he married Tina Siembieda Zbell, to whom he was married until her passing in 2009. In 1972, Ohio Governor John Gilligan appointed Kryzan to a vacant position on the bench of the Youngstown Municipal Court. He served in this position until retirement in 1987.

Charles Bannon, a Mahoning County Common Pleas Court judge was long a friend of Kryzan’s and paid him this tribute in the Vindicator obituary: “I had a ton of respect for Frank Kryzan. I was always impressed with how he handled himself. When you saw him he commanded respect.”

In the last six years of his life, he moved to Crown Point, Indiana. He passed on March 13, 2010, at age 96, surviving his second wife, Tina, by a year. He was buried in Youngstown.

War hero. Popular mayor in the Baby Boom years. Respected judge. And mayor during my earliest years growing up in working class Youngstown as one of those Boomers. Seventy years ago.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown – Grant E. Hamilton, Political Cartoonist (1862-1926)

A line drawing of Grant Hamilton, political cartoonist

Growing up, there was one other place in the Vindicator I would go beside the comic section for cartoons and that was the editorial page for the political cartoons. Political cartoonists taught me that politicians made some of the best comic figures, often because they took themselves too seriously, and didn’t realize how funny this might look to others.

Not until this week did I know that one of the great American political cartoonists of all time grew up in Youngstown. Grant E. Hamilton was born in the city on August 16, 1862. He was the son of Homer and Adeline Hamilton, an old Youngstown family, who lived at 111 Woodland Ave. There is little information about his growing up years and it appears that by age 20 he was in New York City. The earliest cartoon online is from January 17, 1883 in the New York Daily Graphic. By 1884, his work appears in Judge, a New York magazine of political satire allied with the Republican party. He worked for the magazine over twenty years, becoming its art editor.

He supported the candidacy of William McKinley, who had strong ties to the Mahoning Valley, in both 1892 and 1896. Perhaps his most famous cartoon (which I could not find online) was his “full dinner pail” cartoon in support of McKinley, against William Jennings Bryan. Here is a sampling of his cartoons:

Representative political cartoons drawn by Grant Hamilton

The one on the left appeared in Judge in 1884 showing Tammany Hall’s “Boss” Kelly in the aftermath of the 1884 Democratic convention that chose Grover Cleveland, perched on Kelly’s right arm. The center cartoon attacks William Jennings Bryan’s “Cross of Gold” speeches during the 1896 campaign against McKinley. The caption underneath (not visible here) reads “The Sacrilegious Candidate. No man who drags into the dust the most sacred symbols of the Christian world is fit to be president of the United States.” The one on the right is from 1899, showing an unhappy baby (with a spear no less!). The caption reads “The Filipino’s First Bath. McKinley–‘Oh, you dirty boy!’ ” After the Spanish-American war in 1898, the Philippines, following a rebellion seeking independence under Emilio Aguinaldo, essentially became an American colony. McKinley saw our mission as one of uplift, to have a civilizing and Christianizing influence on the islands, hence the bath of “the dirty boy.” The baby is thought to be a caricature of Aguinaldo.

Obviously, Hamilton could be as biting in his political satire as any political cartoonist today. His services were much in demand and he was art editor at points for Leslie’s Weekly and The Graphic as well. He also contributed cartoons for Puck and Life. During World War I, he was chief of the government art bureau. By the 1920’s he was in ill health and left New York around 1924 to move to California, hoping the climate would rejuvenate his health. He died two years later, on April 17, 1926. At the time of his death, he had two brothers living in Youngstown, John and Nick, and a brother Scott, living in New Castle.

Hamilton’s story is one largely in outline and much of what we know of him is associated with his work. It would be a fascinating project to learn about his Youngstown years and how he got his start in political satire.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — The Total Solar Eclipse of 1806

By Mabel Loomis Todd; José Joaquín de Ferrer (illustration) – Total Eclipses of the Sun (Boston, 1894), p.115. Digital scan available on The Internet Archive, Public Domain.

There is tremendous excitement around the total eclipse of the sun that will be visible over much of the United States from Texas to Maine. The path of totality passes over much of Ohio. Unfortunately, Youngstown is just outside of the path and will witness a 99.5% eclipse. (This website includes a simulation of what those in Youngstown will see). Warren and Niles or Lordstown, just to the northwest will be inside that path. Those who know eclipses say it is worth driving a few miles to see totality.

This is not a regular event. The only other time Youngstown was ever under the path of a total eclipse in the city’s history was on June 16, 1806. During that eclipse, Youngstown was within the path of totality and in fact, so was all of sparsely populated northern Ohio as far south as Mansfield. (This website shows the path of totality of that eclipse).

Youngstown had only been settled for a few years. There were people whose names many of us would recognize: James Hillman, Daniel Sheehy, William Rayen, and George Tod. In a list of township elected officials for Youngstown township from 1802, twenty-three names are listed. In all of Trumbull County in 1810 there were only 8671 people (there was no separate Mahoning County). There were less than 1,000 people in Youngstown at that time (only 2769 people lived in the city in 1860). Most were living on city lots downtown with farms in other parts of the city or various small businesses in town. There were no newspapers (only one in the state). There were no cameras (the image above was a hand-drawn illustration).

I’ve not found any accounts from Youngstown of the event. The Columbus Dispatch includes this account from Christian Cackler, a young farmer who appears to have lived near Kent:

“The day of the great eclipse was a beautiful, warm day; we were hoeing corn the second time, with only shirts and pants on, but, after the eclipse was off, the weather was so much colder that we had to put on our vests and coats to work in,” Cackler wrote. “There were frosts every month that summer; no corn got ripe, and the next spring we had to send to the Ohio River for seed corn to plant.”

Another account from the same article describes the response of some of the Indigenous People living in Portage County:

“They left the work, got out their bows and arrows and began firing their arrows up into the heavens in the direction of the slowly darkening sun, to scare off the evil spirit.”

The other significant historical story associated with the total eclipse of 1806 also concerned Indigenous People, particularly Tecumseh, who led the Shawnee resistance, and his brother, Tenskwatawa, known as “The Prophet.” By this time, they had lost most of the Ohio lands in the Treaty of Greenville in 1795. The two brothers had been working to build a confederation of tribes to resist further land losses. Their most immediate adversary was Indiana governor (and later president) William Henry Harrison. Harrison circulated a letter he dated April 12, 1806, attempting to discredit the brothers with their followers, challenging them to stop the sun or moon or some other great sign in nature to prove they were sent by the Great Spirit. The Prophet responded that in 50 days, the Great Spirit would take the sun in hand and conceal it, a prophecy fulfilled on June 16 around 11 am. Whether the brothers were tipped off by settlers in the know from the almanacs of the time, or not, their standing was strengthened rather than undermined.

Those of us witnessing the eclipse might do well to write down our own accounts of what it was like. Your grandchildren and great-grandchildren may well be living during the next total eclipse in 2099. Just be sure to watch with good eclipse glasses that meet ISO 12312-2 requirements. One way to tell is that you shouldn’t be able to see anything indoors and only the sun outdoors, at a brightness comfortable to your eyes. The glasses also block rays of the sun beyond the visible spectrum that can harm or permanently damage your eyes. Allow adequate time to get to, and especially from, your viewing location. Traffic jams are expected in many locations.

We are fortunate to be able to view from our backyard. Now we just find ourselves hoping Ohio’s perpetual cloud cover will clear.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Penny Candy Stores

Robert C Trube © 2024.

Remember Bazooka Bobble Gum, with a comic inside the wrapper for each piece? How about Tootsie Pops, with that chocolate center? There were those Red Hots, those big red balls that grew hotter as you sucked them. We loved licorice twists, Milky Ways, Hershey bars, Tootsie Rolls…and maybe Necco wafers. And remember Milk Duds! Of course at this time of the year, there were jelly beans, chocolate eggs, and bunnies. No wonder I had so many cavities as a kid!

Some of these candies are still around fifty years later. And some enterprises are bringing them back–probably for the boomers who loved them as a kid. The picture above was taken at the counter of a local family restaurant.

Many of us bought at least some of our candy at local mom and pop stores, often tucked into our neighborhoods. My wife and her friends would stop at Curry’s Pharmacy. We’d go to Mrs. Borey’s on Oakwood, just up the hill from Washington. Many of us walked past, and some like me, detoured. I can’t recall that Mrs. Borey sold anything other than candy, and maybe popsicles and ice cream bars, It was literally a store front in a residential home, where I presume someone lived. I recall hearing that the apartments next to Washington School had a store on the first floor at one time.

Further up Oakwood, across from Borts Field was Zitello’s. It was on my way home from West Junior High, so I would sometimes stop for chips, or maybe a Slim Jim. But they really did business during baseball games in the summer. Between innings, we’d run across the street and get a pop and your favorite snack.

If I was hanging out with friends during the summer, we’d often run down to “Pop’s” on Mahoning Avenue near Lakeview for our bubblegum and Red Hots or a candy bar. “Pop’s” was actually a grocery, so sometimes, particularly before Sparkle opened up the street, we’d be there to pick up some bread or something else mom needed–and get a snack on the side with the change.

This was a part of a culture of local businesses within walking distance for many of us. This is something I don’t know much about beyond my own part of the West side, and perhaps part of our vanishing local history. I’d love to hear if there were penny candy stores you used to go to at which you got your candy “fix” as a kid? Where were these stores and what happened to them?

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Shoe Repair

My wife and I were driving past a familiar plaza and we noticed that the shoe repair shop was no longer there. This set us wondering how shoe shops make it these days, and we recalled memories of the shoe repair shop I went to as a child.

Growing up, it seems we wore more traditional shoes with leather soles and uppers. I remember our Saturday afternoon ritual of polishing our shoes for church on Sunday. We had a can of Kiwi bootpolish, an old rag we used to apply the polish, and a soft rag to buff it off. I loved how the polish would cover all but the worst of scuffs and make the shoes shine! Of course, then I had to scrub the polish off my hands. And you had to make sure the lid was tight on the polish can or the polish would be all cracked and dry the next time you polished your shoes.

Like all things, those shoes wore out. The heels would wear down on one side. The soles would wear thin or even get a hole in them–no fun in the rain. Women would have the heel on high heels fall off. If you hadn’t grown out of the shoe and the uppers were still good, you took them to a shoe repair shop to get more life out of the shoe and stretch that working class budget.

We used to take our shoes to an old cobbler who had a shop on Steel Street, just north of Mahoning Avenue. The shop was old with all the machines (like the one above) and tools behind the counter. It smelled of shoe leather and polish. There wasn’t much light, maybe one hanging bulb. On shelves on the sides, you saw all kinds of shoes with claim tickets attached. I don’t remember the gentleman’s name and he seemed a man of few words. You gave him the shoes. He usually could see what needed to be done. He told you what it would cost, when they would be ready and filled out the claim ticket. and you were out the door. A few days later, you’d go back and have shoes almost as good as new. Sometimes, you’d get new soles and heels several times, if the shoe was well-made.

It’s been ages since I’ve had shoes repaired. Most of the time, it seems we just discard casual shoes when they wear out. I have a pair of dress shoes I rarely wear, probably 15 years old that I’ve never re-soled. I suspect this is true of many of us. It strikes me as I write that the old way of repairing shoes was often more thrifty and more earth-friendly, even though we didn’t talk about re-using and recycling in those days.

I’d love to hear your memories of going to shoe repair shops in Youngstown!

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Franz Bibo

Franz Bibo, “Youngstown Symphony Orchestra Celebrating 90 Years,” special insert to The Vindicator, September 11, 2016.

I remember two conductors of the Youngstown Symphony Orchestra. One was John Krueger, the conductor who led the children’s concerts we attended as elementary school children at Stambaugh Auditorium (it was actually called the Youngstown Philharmonic in those days). The other was Franz Bibo, who led the orchestra from 1965 to 1980. I had classical musician friends during college and went to a number of symphony performances during this time. Student seats were cheap! Franz Bibo conducted most of these including an amazing performance of the Nutcracker What I had not realized was what an accomplished musician he was and what a pivotal role he played in the Youngstown Symphony’s history and Youngstown’s cultural life.

Mr. Bibo was born in Germany in 1922. He came to the United States in 1946, becoming an American citizen. [Several readers  of this article who knew Bibo gave eyewitness accounts of Bibo showing them the serial numbers tattooed on his arm that marked him as an Auschwitz survivor.] He studied at the Mannes Music School in New York City, at New York University, and the Juilliard School. By 1948, he was on the music faculty of Brooklyn College. He was also the assistant conductor of the City Symphony Orchestra of New York, an orchestra of mostly amateur musicians founded by Leopold Prince, a New York City judge. When Prince died in 1951, Bibo took over as conductor and led the orchestra for ten years. In 1955, he was one of three conductors chosen to share a Rockefeller study grant of $49,500, a major sum at this time and a distinct honor.

In 1961, Bibo moved to Ohio, joining the faculty of the Oberlin Conservatory of Music as conductor of the Oberlin Orchestra, Chamber Orchestra, and Opera. Oberlin is a highly recognized school to this day and Bibo had the opportunity to work with talented musicians. Musical organizations establish their reputation in part by touring. A story in the March 15, 1964 Vindicator announced that Bibo and the orchestra would be performing at Stambaugh Auditorium as part of a tour performing concerts in Hartford, Boston, Philadelphia, New York, Washington, Youngstown, Buffalo, and Cleveland. The article notes that it was believed that this was the first undergraduate student orchestra tour of its kind. The New York Times reviewer for their New York appearance, performing the same program, noted their “lovely natural phrasing and tone that kept beautifying the performances all evening.”

In retrospect, this may have served as an early audition for the position as conductor of the Youngstown Symphony. In 1965, John Krueger, battling colon cancer, stepped down. Bibo was selected to be the new conductor. For the first time “Maestro” was used to refer to him. One of his contributions was to stage locally produced operas. He and his wife Jacqueline, a concert pianist and musical director for a number of groups, moved to Youngstown and embraced the city.

It was during his tenure that the Youngstown Symphony, through a gift of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Powers, saved the old Warner Theatre from demolition and restored it to its glory. Bibo played an active role in the restoration work as you can see from this picture:

The Vindicator, March 4, 1969.

The new facility opened September 20, 1969 with a gala performance of “Die Fledermaus” conducted by Maestro Bibo.

Bibo led the orchestra for twelve seasons. He hired musicians from outside Youngstown, raising the standards of the orchestra. He was succeeded by Peter Leonard in 1980. Franz Bibo passed away some time in 1986. Jacqueline continued to live in the Youngstown area and was actively involved in development work for Channels 45/49 and the Warren General Health Foundation as well as supporting other arts and community organizations including Opera Western Reserve. She lived until March 7, 2018 and was remembered in the Opera Western Reserve program for Puccini’s Madame Butterfly in November of that year.

Maestro Bibo brought all the training and artistic sophistication of New York and Oberlin to the city of Youngstown, introducing many to opera for the first time. He will always be remembered for leading the symphony in its move to and gala opening at Powers Auditorium and the belief that Youngstown could be a city known for great music and operatic performances. And his wife, Jacqueline, a great musician in her own right, carried forward that legacy. Bravissimo!

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!