William Greenaway was my great grandfather. M. Emily Greenaway was a great aunt of mine. We used to visit her and her partner in Lake Valhalla and Bailey Island Maine where they owned a summer house on a hill near Lands End. Last year a cousin sent me a couple of his recipes.
Whenever I visited Albany to see my grandmother, I always watched Freihofer's "Breadtime Stories". After "We love your cookies, your breads and your cakes" my Uncle would sing "Freddy Freihofer, go jump in the lake"...
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Uncle Max farmed outside of Norwich, N.Y., in Chenango County. I can trace relatives on my father's side back to the early 1700's, and most of them were farmers, all around Broome and Chenango.
On the Freddy front: On yet another Albany visit, my Uncle Paul, who would do pretty much anything to make me laugh, sat with me once to watch "Breadtime Stories". They were showing an episode of "Mister Magoo" where Magoo was attempting to make soup for his Chinese houseboy Charlie, who was down with the flu. (Historians will note that the caricature of Charlie may be even worse than the one Mickey Rooney played of a Japanese person in "Breakfast at Tiffany's", but I digress, as I usually do.) Anyway, Magoo, being nearly blind (his schtick), was throwing stuff like lye and turpentine into the mix, and, as the tension mounted, the film caught fire. Cut to the guy in the bunny suit, who had to do some quick improv, and my Uncle was suddenly on the phone with WGY, demanding to speak to the station manager, yelling: "I want to know if Magoo killed the (expletive deleted) Chinaman!" I like to think my Uncle wasn't pretending...
William Greenaway was my great grandfather. M. Emily Greenaway was a great aunt of mine. We used to visit her and her partner in Lake Valhalla and Bailey Island Maine where they owned a summer house on a hill near Lands End. Last year a cousin sent me a couple of his recipes.
Whenever I visited Albany to see my grandmother, I always watched Freihofer's "Breadtime Stories". After "We love your cookies, your breads and your cakes" my Uncle would sing "Freddy Freihofer, go jump in the lake"...
Jamie Haynes <jamiehayne@gmail.com>
9:44 AM (1 hour ago)
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Uncle Max farmed outside of Norwich, N.Y., in Chenango County. I can trace relatives on my father's side back to the early 1700's, and most of them were farmers, all around Broome and Chenango.
On the Freddy front: On yet another Albany visit, my Uncle Paul, who would do pretty much anything to make me laugh, sat with me once to watch "Breadtime Stories". They were showing an episode of "Mister Magoo" where Magoo was attempting to make soup for his Chinese houseboy Charlie, who was down with the flu. (Historians will note that the caricature of Charlie may be even worse than the one Mickey Rooney played of a Japanese person in "Breakfast at Tiffany's", but I digress, as I usually do.) Anyway, Magoo, being nearly blind (his schtick), was throwing stuff like lye and turpentine into the mix, and, as the tension mounted, the film caught fire. Cut to the guy in the bunny suit, who had to do some quick improv, and my Uncle was suddenly on the phone with WGY, demanding to speak to the station manager, yelling: "I want to know if Magoo killed the (expletive deleted) Chinaman!" I like to think my Uncle wasn't pretending...
And to torture you further:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5C4CocX5MGM
best,
Jamie Haynes
New London CT
My Uncle Max baked for Freihoffers until he developed what he called "baker's asthma". He became a dairy farmer to "get more fresh air", as he put it