By Joe Radder
Memories Columnist

Those Spectacular Signs

Back in the ‘40s and ‘50s, every major American City had an exciting downtown. Among the things that made those downtowns so exciting at night were the spectacular electric advertising signs.

Today, only the largest cities have them, like New York's Times Square. But back then, Buffalo too had its share of "spectaculars."

Two I remember were at Main and Genesee. On the east side of Main a "Wonder Bread" sign towered at least four stories above the buildings And on the west side, above Gamler's jewelry store, was a Camel cigarette sign featuring a man's face. What made it unique was the fact that the man's open mouth was always blowing "smoke" (probably steam).

A third was at the Peace Bridge, selling Texaco products to all motorists crossing the bridge into the United States. It had a huge neon star, probably twenty feet by twenty feet, with the word Texaco across the middle, and cut-out letters in an arch across the top spelling out "Welcome to Buffalo."

I particularly remember that sign because, at age 21, I worked for the company that owned that sign, National Outdoor Advertising.

It was my job to travel a route of about 100 miles every night after dark, checking the lights and neon on all of NOA's signs and billboards.

If a bulb had burned out, I would haul a ladder off the rack on my little red pick-up truck, clamber up the ladder and change the bulb. Similarly, if there was as piece of neon broken, I would climb up and retrieve it to take into the shop for repair.

I remember one cold winter night when, in the freezing rain, I found that one of the letters in the Texaco sign had been broken by the wind. The angle iron that formed the sign's frame was coated with ice, but foolish youth that I was, I climbed up to the top of the huge sign and retrieved the broken letter.

I can remember that my mother cried when I got home that night because my fur hat was coated with ice. But those were depression days and one was lucky to have a job, even one that paid $22.50 a week. So you'd do things in the line of duty that few, if any, 21-year-olds would do today.

I really wanted a REAL advertising job, as a copywriter, for an agency or a department store. So I used my free Saturday mornings touring the possible places of employment with some hypothetical ads I had written. Finally, I landed a job at Hengerer's and was liberated from the days as a sign man. I'll never regret those days, however. They taught me a number of valuable lessons.