The Good Old Days in Darien / Ed Chrostowski

When a Darien couple chatted over morning coffee every day, millions of people "eavesdropped" back in the good old days.

Ed and Pegeen FitzGerald were the Regis and Kelly of their era, except that there was no television and no celebrity guests, just plain old husband and wife talk about the family, the weather, politics, sports and whatever else entered their minds.

And there was always an open microphone on their breakfast table, broadcasting their chats on New York radio stations as people throughout the metropolitan area listened in.

Most of their broadcasts in the 1950s originated at their home on Hay Island, off the Tokeneke shore, or in their Manhattan apartment. Pegeen insisted on broadcasting from home because she didn't want the studio announcer to see her still in her bathrobe in the early morning programs.

The FitzGeralds were on the air for about 40 years, finally signing off after he died, though she did go solo for a year. They were among many Darien residents who surprised their neighbors with some unusual talents.

There was, for instance, Lurelle V. A. Guild, an internationally known industrial designer, who created a mini Dutch colonial village on his Nearwater Lane property. Its buildings were not full-sized, but much larger than doll-houses and, in fact, big enough for grown adults to enter.

Guild's plan was to open the village to visitors, but residents were uneasy about having a potential tourist attraction in the neighborhood and he relented after welcoming the public only one time as a fund-raiser for the Garden Club. Guild, called "Bunny" because of the way he always wrinkled his nose, was sensitive to land use issues. He was a member of the Town Planning and Zoning Commission.

Folks on Tyler Drive certainly must have been aware of who their neighbor, Ron Northey, was. Northey was a home run slugging outfielder for several teams during a 12-year career in Major League Baseball.

During his years in Darien, he also was active in Little League and, in fact, one of the products of that program was his son, Scott Northey, who also went on to play professional ball.

Moving on, the artistry of Serge Nekrasoff is still available in classical fine art galleries. He made his brightly colored and highly decorative and utilitarian plates, enamel on hammered copper, in his small studio and retail workshop on the Post Road in Noroton.

Nearby, William Atkin and his son, John, designed all kinds of boats, from dinghies to yachts, for do-it-yourselfers or for professional boat-builders. Atkin and Company plans are still on the market.

John is remembered also for the non-traditional front façade of his home on the Post Road in Noroton. A large part of that wall glass block and he was possibly the first in the area to use it in residential construction.

Another home decorating innovator, William Gray Schaeffer, maintained a studio and showroom on the Post Road. His interior designs in upscale homes were known throughout the area.

Of course, boats always were of prime interest in this shorefront town and there was a shop building and selling them right here in town. It was called Norge Boats and it was located near Ed Wagner's swimming pool company on the east end of the Post Road. The craftsman in charge was Bjarne Nilson, adding further to the Norwegian flavor that Darien had enjoyed since Arne Ohrn opened his diner and the famous Tokle skiing brothers moved to town.

Perhaps the most surprising of all was Clarence Harbison, a salesman and kennel operator who lived on Dickinson Road. Harbison billed himself as a "dog psychologist" and became so well known for his understanding of family pets that he and his advice were featured on the boxes of Kellogg cereals.

Few residents going to Town Hall to pay their taxes were aware that the man collecting them, Melvin C. Corbett, was one of the region's premiere carillonneurs. He was the official carillonneur at Trinity College in Hartford and performed recitals throughout the Northeast.

To folks in Darien, the tax collector was known as "Jim" because of the similarity of his name to that of the famous boxer, "Gentleman Jim" Corbett. And he lived up to that name -- polite and self-effacing as he turned up the hearing aid that dangled from his ear.

Another Town Hall denizen in that era was Walter Bates, who became mayor of a town in Massachusetts after retiring as Darien's public works director. Bates was known for eyeglasses with lenses as thick as the bottom of a Coke bottle and for his staunch support of the basketball teams at his alma mater, the University of Connecticut. It was always fun to go with him to UConn-Yale games.

Fred Poccia also was a man of unsuspected talents. He was head custodian in Darien's public schools. But, more important, he was a musician, leading a dance band that was much in demand at firehouse and Piedmont Club parties.

With his great mane of snow-white hair and handlebar moustache to match, Walter Clark was the picture of a dignified country judge. And that's what he was, presiding for years over Darien's Probate Court.

But he was more. Tall and athletic as he walked daily along the Post Road, Clark also was an avid man of the sea. One summer day, he shoved off from Pear Tree Point in an 18-foot sailboat and announced that his next port of call would be in England. Alas, prevailing winds wreaked havoc with his solo cross-Atlantic adventure and the next day his craft was beached on a reef off the coast of Maine.

Few would have suspected Alfred Phillips, a former Congressman and one-time mayor of Stamford, of any equestrian prowess, but he was an accomplished horseman. He bred trotting horses on his farm in Maryland and occasionally drove the sulky himself in county fair races there.

Phillips was the grandson of the man who developed Phillips Milk of Magnesia, which may or may not endear him to the memory of many people, and he maintained an active role in marketing at least one of the company's products. It was called "Hot-a-Cool," a liniment for aching muscles, and with the help of his secretary, tireless Jean Wylie, filled mail orders for it from throughout the country. Philllips was then publisher of the Darien Review and worked in a small office in the newspaper's building at the corner of West Avenue and the Post Road.

In a neighboring office on the second floor of that building, Mischa Richter created the cartoons that are still in many museum collections. Richter's drawings were nationally syndicated and were featured in the New Yorker magazine for decades.

One would not have suspected such robust humor and artistic talent in this quiet mild-mannered, almost shy, man. But then again, there were many in town whose avocations and talents ran deeper than what at first seemed obvious.

Ed Chrostowski was editor of the Darien Review in the '50s. He can be reached at skicrow@att.net.