I loved old Moodus

About once a year, I visit the Moodus Web pages and remember those days in the early 1930's when we drove to Gramma's house in Moodus for Sunday dinner. They lived at the top of the hill, across from the cemetery on the road to Banner Lodge. The driveway to their house was between St. Bridgets and the Synagogue. It's still there.

Now, at 84, I remember all the stores and the tavern where Grampa wet his whistle. He died in 1941 while walking home from the tavern. I also remember the visitors to the camps (Banner Lodge, etc) walking up and down the hill in droves. I fished with Barney Smith and his brothers in the pond behind their house and popped corn over a campfire with them. I loved the "Old" Moodus. What remains today is awful.

Urban Renewal was also a disaster in my home town of New Britain. I was on their Common Council when it was decided to tear down millions of square feet of manufacturing space, thinking that the owners would rush back in and rebuild with cheap Government money. Not one of them rebuilt, but chose to leave town and go to the surrounding suburbs. The only buildings there are government-owned. Not one pays taxes.

Your web page is outstanding. Please keep it up.

--Richard Harris
Avon, CT

Lousy accomodations, great food and fun

I am so excited to read this. We went every year to Orchard Mansion and still have friends that we met there.

Who is still alive from the Kabatznick family?  They came to one of my sons' bar mitzvahs.

You hit the nail right on the head. The accommodations were lousy, but who cared. The food and fun was worth it.

We even took our dog with us.

--Joan Kniager

Fun childhood memories

I have fun images in my head from Moodus and Orchard Mansion… first drink from a natural spring, first hack at a golf ball, a scary walk through the cemetery, the frog pool/pond with giant frog’s legs, shuffle board, watching the MLB All-Star game on a color TV, first female breast sighting, first kiss, (sour) milk and cookies, the Boston/New York rivalry, watching the old men (my dad was probably in his 30’s back then) playing cards by the pool all day, the talent shows in the barn, learning to dive off a diving board, on and on!

Great website.  My family will be thrilled to visit and take a stroll down memory lane.

--Eric Kniager

Growing up on Banner Rd.

I don't know where to start. You have brought back so many wonderful childhood memories for me.

Starting with Maxi and his chicken coops to Pistol Pete! I adored them all. As a child growing up on Banner Road, everything was an adventure.

Jack employed my siblings and I either babysitting, camp counselor or whatever he needed us for. Pistol Pete used to bring us home, if it was "very late," refusing to let us walk home in the dark. He used to tell us Jack told him to!

Jack and Mrs. Banner would allow us children to use the pool, gameroom and paddle in the pond. One of the things we did not have permission to do was play on the golf course, so when we were caught Jack gave us a "stern" talking to.

Maxi employed my brother for several summers growing up and I have never tasted a better egg since. He always had his Irish Setters that were so beautiful. I was a senior at Nathan Hale, when Mrs. Simon opened Down on the Farm. I was always fascinated by the workshops. Once again she employed a child that really didn't know what she would do after school. She taught me things that summer that I still carry with me today.

I guess the thing that means so much to me today is that all the people I have mentioned treated us like their own family. Not only did they employee us, but they cared deeply for us and I will always owe them a debt of gratitude.

I remember Pistol Pete and his car down at the old Moodus Center during the parades. We always had to run over and say a big hello! He was bigger than life to me.

Thank you so much for bringing back wonderful childhood memories for me.

--Judy Ryder McCarthy

Moodus on my mind

No one that I know of has written about this amazing farmhouse resort.

In 1940, my parents spent one night of their honeymoon there.   In the 

evening my father suffered a severe asthma attack.  My mom called Mrs. 

Budka who immediately recognized my father's malaise.  She told my mother to keep my father sitting upright all night and to keep him awake as much as possible, and that they should go back to New York City the next morning.  The pollen had gotten the better of him. 

After I was born in 1944 my parents joined my uncle and aunt and their daughter to spend a week or two every summer in Moodus.  The going rate for room and board then was $15 per person.  My father would stay only the first day until 5 PM then he would drive back to Brooklyn to avoid an asthma attack.  I loved this farm and I can remember certain things as early as when I was three-years old.  Eventually my father's doctor injected him with antihistamines and we could spend our vacations there as a family.

I don't remember Julia Budka herself because by the time I was school age she was too old to run the family business.  I was told that not only working class people would go to her farm, but wealthy people would also spend time there mainly to taste her fabulous country cooking.  

She sold the business (I think) to a German-American family called Muller or Müller.  My mother described Mrs. Muller as more strict than Mrs. Budka, but I remember her as a very sweet woman who cooked the most amazing German-American dishes.  I would wake up early and with a Muller family member go to the chicken coop to pick fresh eggs from under the hens and then have the same for breakfast.   

My father, a carpenter by trade, built a serving trolley to help Mrs.  

Muller wheel the food from the kitchen to the dining room, a favor that put our family in good stead.  Mrs. Muller was a bit high strung, even I noticed at my young age.  She emitted a nervous and very audible click from back in her mouth as she swiftly served the diners.  She often had a worried look on her face as she placed huge serving places groaning with sausages and mashed potatoes on the long tables.   

The food was delicious but one day a friend of  my father complained that it was either not warm enough, or simply not enough (he was a very portly man).  Mrs. Muller exploded, stood there and ranted into the diner's face.  This was obviously boiling up but I was too young to recognize the signs.  I remember being frightened seeing this benign woman screaming on top of her lungs and turning red in the face.  It went on for some time and the guest and his wife left the farm afterwards.

We kept up our annual pilgrimage to Moodus until the early 50s.  By then I used to take a rowboat with young friends and row all over Lake Bashan, often fueling my parents' anxiety when we disappeared out of sight from the bank.  One summer I brought my terrapin from Brooklyn and freed my pet into Lake Bashan.  It seemed very happy as it swam into the depths.  

 One of those summers I brought flippers and swam out to a small island in the lake with some boys.  We stayed there for ages until our parents shouted for us to come back for dinner.  We were so far away from the bank we could just barely hear them, but we could see them waving their arms frantically.  We jumped into the cold evening water and started to suffer from fatigue about half way. Luckily the adults could read the signs and quickly rowed out to rescue us.  I hate to think what would've happened if they hadn't seen us or called us back for dinner.

Behind the porch was a large activities room where we could play darts or board games.  There was also a bar for the adults and a jukebox for dancing.  One hot and hazy afternoon I had befriended the only other kid there.  She was a womanly 13-year old and I was a very immature 9-year old.  It was just us in the activities room.   

Out of boredom she found some kind of romantic interest in me, but I was far too naive to recognize such a thing.  She put a nickel in the jukebox and a slow ballad came on.  She asked me to dance and suddenly I was in the arms of a young woman.  It was an extremely pleasant feeling but terribly confusing at the same time.  She whispered into my ear, "I smell something burning."  Instead of me coming back with something appropriate like, "Yeah, it's my heart," I pushed her away and shouted, "Where, what...?"  I took her literally and the moment was lost forever.

For me, my summers at the farmhouse happened during my early formative years.  It had all the mystery and magic of Narnia.  It was a complete contrast from the cement and sidewalks of Brooklyn.  I have never been in Moodus as an adult.  The reason I am writing this is because I just looked up Moodus on the Internet and slowly realized that it is all gone, the farm, the main street, gone.  I wanted to go back there and relive some of these memories with my wife.  I guess the best I can do now is to go through my parents' box of photographs and relive all I can in my mind.

--Anthony Visconti

Young, in love, in Moodus

Hi. Just thought it would be fun to go back to the Ted Hilton resort for our 60th anniversary. We were there only once, went by bus with a cardboard suitcase. We didn't own a car then. We were there the week of August 8th l949. We were very young & in love. We're still together, healthy & still young at heart. We stayed a week in a cabin on a hill. One of my fondness memories were the fresh blueberry pancakes. I make a batch at least once a week ever since I ate yours. All the meals were good then. I 'm amazed I found you on the internet. When I made the blueberry pancakes this morning I remembered your place. We will pleased to receive information on Ted Hilton's Resort. Thank You,

--Mr & Mrs Michael Grella, Hicksville, NY

Memories of Coo Coo

My parents went to Ted Hilton's for their honeymoon in 1949, and our family went to Frank Davis Resort every summer in the 70's.

I especially remember fondly Roy "Coo Coo" Duka, the entertainer from those summers. He used to recruit campers at 6 am to go around with instruments and wake up the other campers. He would blow smoke bubbles from his cigars and run all sorts of activities for kids and adults. He even had a nightclub act for the adults. Sometimes he rode around on a white horse during the Hawaiian barbecue. All very fond memories!