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WHEN I GRADUATED high school in the 1950s, I was age 17—and totally directionless. But living in New York City offered many opportunities, some of them right outside my front door.
At the time, the larger banks and insurance companies sent letters to recent graduates offering job interviews. I chose to accept an invitation from American Surety Co. I had no idea what a surety company did.
The venerable old company was housed in the second largest skyscraper in Manhattan—the American Surety Building at 100 Broadway in lower Manhattan, near Wall Street and across from Trinity Church. My best interview outfit was my almost new Easter outfit, a prim green and white checked suit worn with proper white gloves, white purse and appropriate pumps. I got an entry level job doing clerical work.
I soon got the lay of the land and was promoted to the stenography pool in the bond department. Nothing is more boring than transcribing notes relating to bond contracts. I often took dictation from an elderly lawyer who kept dozing off in midsentence. So much for my foray into the insurance industry. We all have to start somewhere, but it wasn’t for me and I was never one to delay action. It was time to broaden my horizons.
A minor but memorable distinction I achieved at American Surety: I won a jitterbug contest, more like a swing dance, with a coworker at the company’s 36th annual Christmas party. The company was serious about its contests, with a dance committee and all. First, there was a sedate waltz and fox trot contest, and then me and my spirited swing dance. It was the most fun I had at the company.
Onward and upward: The ad for the job of executive secretary at Melodee Lane Lingerie Co. caught my eye. It mentioned “a little modeling on the side.” Only kidding—there was no mention of modeling, but it did pay $35 a week more than my current job.
I had my own little office and nobody bothered me. The boss was easy going and traveled often. Most of my work consisted of typing letters recorded on a dictaphone machine. At least, at this job, I didn’t have to worry about dozing dictators. And I got a nice discount on the racy, er, lacy merchandise. Remember babydoll pajamas? Actually, the line consisted of nice quality, mid-priced lingerie. Victoria’s Secret had not yet been uncovered.
The office manager was a little intimidating and a character—a seemingly unattached woman “of a certain age” who used to come to work on Fridays with her hair wrapped in those big pink cylindrical plastic hair curlers popular in the 1950s and ‘60s. Her head would be swathed in a large scarf, making it look twice the size it was, in a futile attempt to hide the curlers. We got along fine, although Shirley was a little temperamental and I was glad we didn’t have too much contact. She was somewhat a Joan Holloway type, the curvy red-haired office manager depicted in the television series Mad Men, sans curlers.
The factory and warehouse where the lingerie was manufactured was part of the same building. The company wasn’t in the best neighborhood in Brooklyn, and the travel time via subway and bus was a little too long. I soon realized there had to be more in my future than my little office, the dictation machine, the typewriter and Melodee Lane Lingerie. Time to depart Petticoat Junction.
A close friend who worked for General Motors told me of better opportunities, with good pay, excellent benefits and chances for advancement, if only within the confines of secretarial work. I was assigned to the Chevrolet Division, which was at the pinnacle of its success following the introduction of its luxury sports car, the Corvette, in 1953 and after hitting a new record—50 million cars manufactured.
Thus began my first professional secretarial job in the corporate world. I enjoyed working in the Rockefeller Center area, in the heart of Manhattan. It was magical at Christmas time: the store displays, the tree, the ice rink, the lights. Everything was exciting—a wonderful, different time. I was age 19 and thought the world was my oyster. At least now I had some direction. I was a Chevro-lady.
A footnote: My first car was a 1963 red Chevrolet Corvair bought that year, a former company car with just 3,000 miles on it. I liked it so well I ordered the 1965 model when the design changed. By then, all the flaws had been addressed. But after Ralph Nader’s drubbing in Unsafe at Any Speed, the Corvair never bounced back in the minds of the car-buying public.
With the employee discount, I paid $1,763.12 for my 1963 Corvair, using money I’d saved up, because there was no room in my budget for car payments. Unfortunately, the bad publicity sealed the Corvair’s fate, coupled with the popularity of the 1965 Ford Mustang. To this day, the Corvair remains an object of detractors and devotees, both panned and praised.
Marjorie Kondrack loves music, dancing and the arts, and is a former amateur ice dancer accredited by the United States Figure Skating Association. In retirement, she worked for eight years as a tax preparer for the IRS’s VITA and TCE programs. Check out Marjorie’s earlier articles.Want to receive our weekly newsletter? Sign up now. How about our daily alert about the site's latest posts? Join the list.
Thanks for sharing your memories, Marjorie. Though I never worked in Brooklyn, I spent two high school summers at Investment Dealers Digest at 150 Broadway (you probably remember the Wanamaker’s store on the first floor). My first job after college was with a travel company in the Flatiron Building, which I understand is now being converted into condos. I teased my kids that I might move back to my old work neighborhood 😂.
Hi, Linda. My dad was the editor of Investment Dealers Digest and I worked in the mailroom there at 150 Broadway for two summers.
Linda…Those old buildings were a marvel of architecture. The Flatiron Building has been called the “quintessential symbol of New York City.”
I don’t remember the Wanamaker store in NYC.Perhaps by then they moved. I do remember their flagship store in Philadelphia. A wonderful old department store.
Thanks for your comments.
One of my first secretarial jobs was to an elderly attorney in a law firm. The office was in an old-school building downtown. While I was taking dictation one day I heard a noise at the window and was distracted to see the window washer. We looked at each other–it was a guy I went to high school with. I jumped up, we opened the window, he climbed in and we had a nice chat, and he asked if he could call me sometime. The attorney wasn’t amused…I left shortly after. (Ended up being in admin roles for 40 years with a blue chip company with an awesome…well, it used to be awesome…profit sharing program. A fortuitous job change that ensured a nice retirement!)
Funny story, Debbie. It is a small world So glad it all worked out for the best. And Did the guy ever call?
No, we never did go out!
This story is a good reminder to show up, present ourselves well and be open to opportunities that arise!
Well said Jamie, in just a few words.
Speak clearly, no baseball hat on backwards, and don’t call the interviewer”dude”.
thank you for this tried and true message.
Jamie..I’d like to add that you have a gift for cutting to the chase in your comments. Always concise and succinct.
I enjoyed these memories, Marjorie. When I was In high school, the Corvair was considered a pretty cool car. It definitely had more sex appeal than the 1962 Chevy II Nova I drove — it was a tank. And I remember it was a bust when they tried to market it in Latin America because “No va” in Spanish means “It doesn’t go”!
Andrew, I bet you were a pretty cool guy anyway.
By the mid sixties dealers were still sending in paper orders for cars. At the time my husband’s job at the Chevrolet Philadelphia zone office was to schedule Corvairs, Chevy IIs, Camaros and Chevelles with the corresponding plants they were manufactured at. An interesting time.
The Corvair was then the only American-designed, mass-produced passenger car with a rear-mounted, air-cooled engine. My dad had moved our family from Cincinnati to Southern California in the summer of 1966 as the result of a job change between my junior and senior years of high school. I had a few dates with a sweet girl who’s parents had gotten her a used 1965 convertible Corvair Corsa Turbo Spider to drive.
The main things I remember about the car was the small unusual under dashboard automatic transmission shift lever and the required tire pressure of the front wheels being less than the rear wheels pressure. A fun little car to ride around in.
Thanks for jogging my happy memories of a gentle time of my youth.
Bill, a good description “a fun little car to ride around in”.Have always thought of it that way. I happily zipped around in mine.
Thanks for your comments. It was a gentler time..
I thoroughly enjoyed your input Marjorie.
A corvair was an auto I always wanted but never came my way at the working auto station during college. It’s amazing that in many the southern states corvairs, pintos, maverick’s, chevelles, vegas, vwbugs still roam the roads. I used to buy, fix, and sell autos on the side as PT employment funds.
Corvette’s had great margins. Fiberglass bodies on nova/omega frames initially. My best friend’s sister also worked at GM. There were deals a plenty. She purchased many GM products for her family in MI, MA, AZ, FLA, everyone ended up with GM products.
A top tier auto-assembly lineman (foreman) friend was still afforded GM discounts after retirement.
Sad to say everyone I knew theres out or retired 6 years back. I look forward to your next entry.
Thank you for the memorable piece, I always look forward to yours and others personal recollective insights on Humble Dollar.
Evan.. thank you for your very interesting comments. You just gotta love cars. My father had pretty much the same hobby as you did.He spent many a Saturday at junkyards looking for obscure parts for his fixer uppers.
I had almost forgotten I had a Vega station wagon as a third car, for a long time.It was compact in size and handy for hauling. Thank you for your input and gracious compliment
Marjorie I just saw an online listing for a stunning 1964 Chevrolet Corvair Monza Spyder convertible with an asking price of $24000. I would love to have that car, swing axle and all!
I’d say you were decades ahead of the times.
Dan…I would have loved that model too.I had a 4 door sedan…not as cool, but right price. Thanks for sharing your memories. I do still have a model car of the Corvair made by Chevrolet for promotions.
Thanks for the fun article Marjorie. When I was a freshman in HS a few buddies and I caught a ride with a senior who drove a 64 (I think) Corvair. We made it through the whole year with no major disasters. Thanks for the fun memories.
Glad I was able to bring back happy high school adventures. Where would we be without the fun times. Thanks for Your comments, Rick. I still love fun.
“Caught a ride with a senior.” For a moment, I imagined a kind elderly gentleman giving you a lift to school.
The 1st car that I remember was my dad’s used red Corvair. I can’t say the exact year, but it was early 1960’s for sure. When that car was spent, he also purchased another Corvair.
Nice to hear from another satisfied Corvair owner. Thank you for reading and commenting.
You breathe new life into old memories, Marjorie. I loved Petticoat Junction as a child, along with the other shows from that studio. I thought the water tower scene in the opening was scandalous.
And I’ll bet that’s why you watched it, Edmund. Fun memories of Hooterville.
Thanks for your comments.