The Fabled Waldo Updyke

A friend to all and somewhat famous in Greenwood

First let me share a bit of background about Waldo. Waldo James was born on the 23^rd of April in 1904 in Greenwood. His parents were John Francis Updyke (1881-1909) who shows up for the first time in a Greenwood census with his parents, Huron T. and Almira Malvina (Glover) Updyke in 1850 and Flora Cheesman (1879-1925), daughter of James Monroe and Amanda (McMindes) Cheesman who show up for the first time in a Greenwood census in 1870. Flora was also the sister of Avery (1884-1958) who still has descendants in town and Blooma (1888-1933), the first wife of grocery store proprietor, William Lawerence “Bill” Lippert (1894-1961).

Waldo married Helen Goodrich (1906-1972) of Canisteo on the 5^th of November, 1930. They had four children: Doris Ann (1931-2002), Boyce F (1935-2012), Richard (1938-2014), and Jerry G (1940-2020). You may recognize Rich’s name from some of the John Charles Murray’s (1942-) stories and Doris Ann’s from Evelyn Cornell’s (1940-???) shared previously.

Waldo spent his life in Greenwood. Passing away at the age of 84 on May 3, 1988 and lies in rest in the Greenwood Cemetery.

Well not really Waldo, but...

Now for a couple of "bring him to life"stories.

Waldo and the Gypsies

Waldo spent a bit of time at a few gathering places around town in his day. He could be found at the Murray Atlantic Station’s lunch counter or swapping stories and "socializing" with friends at the Hotel or American Legion.

On this day, Waldo was having a bit of a late lunch at Murray’s counter, surveying the downtown from his seat. You see, he kept an eye on things around town when the men were out at their day jobs and the women were holding down the fort at the businesses there on Main Street. While he intermixed bites of a turkey sandwich with gulps of milk, he could see from Ellen and Grace at the Young and Young Store to Irene Chaffee at their hardware store and still chat it up with Margaret and her customers.

As he was scanning, he noticed a station wagon parking on Main Street with a flood of men, young and old, hopping out. Waldo turned to Margaret and exclaimed, “them gypsies are back!” He jumped up and took off as customers fled to the windows to check it out.

Waldo went right where he knew some friends would be, the Hotel. He threw open the door and approached the bar a bit out of breath. It wasn’t very far, but Waldo was not one to be in a hurry most of the time. He was more of a mosey-er, if you know what I mean.  As he was expected at some point that day, the guys just kind of passed it off.

But, Waldo was on a mission. He used his “I have something big to say” voice and told them about the gypsies. Just a week or so before, they had been talking about this happening in other towns close by. The gypsies had filled their pockets and even tried the change game in some stores before running and hopping in their car and speeding away. Leaving the business owners stunned and wondering what they could have done to stop it. He knew action was needed immediately, “Listen up! Them gypsies are back and we got to stop them before they rob our ladies blind.”

Then, he stopped and made eye contact with each and every one of them, before continuing, “I have a plan, we are going to go and stand guard in every store and stop them from taking anything, you hear me?”

Then he started assigning them one by one and sending another up to the Legion for reinforcement.   

It didn’t take long for those gypsies to realize a lost cause and skedaddle on out of town that day, thanks to Waldo. All the ladies flooded out of their stores to thank Waldo and his friends. And later that evening, Waldo was thanked by their husbands too… with a few rounds at the watering hole. All was well in Greenwood.

This story became legend and Waldo became a hero of sorts to the business owners in town. This leads me to my next story.

Waldo and the Sheriff

Waldo was, let’s just say, well known at the watering holes in Greenwood. He was very social and spent maybe a bit too much time “swapping stories” with some of the other gentlemen in town. On this day, he had been socializing for quite a long time and needed to get home. Helen had made it clear that he needed to be there by 6 for dinner.

Being a good citizen and all, he realized that driving himself home was probably not the best idea. So, he called Murray Station, Margaret answered that old wall phone near the door and Waldo asked her if Stanley could give him a ride home from the Legion. Margaret had to tell him, “Stanley is not back from his construction job yet, but Stan Jr and Sally are here. I will send them right up.” They took the family car, Sally drove it and Stan drove Waldo’s taking him along as his passenger. All was well…

Maybe not so much… just as they got back and sat at the counter to eat a snack, their dad was pulling his truck in the parking area, and a sheriff’s car whipped into the lot, throwing gravel everywhere and slid to a stop. Not finding Waldo at the Hotel, the sheriff went on up to the American Legion, no Waldo there either.  He was livid.

Now, this is probably a good time to point out that Stanley Murray was also the Justice of the Peace and had the sheriff and his deputies at his home for court appearances quite often. One might describe them as somewhat like partners in keeping the streets of Greenwood safe.

Margaret was making her way out the door, pushing some stray hair off her forehead then wiping her hands on the apron she always wore. Stanley was sauntering over to her from the truck wearing his sweaty wife-beater tee shirt and filthy dirty dungarees with his denim shirt, that just matched the color of his eyes, thrown over his shoulder and carrying that old black beat up lunchbox. As he approached, the sheriff hopped out of his car, slammed the door and strutted up to them, glaring from one to the other. He began shouting, “I will have you know, I came all the way from Bath because I was told, with certainty, that I could get Waldo Updyke’s license today.” A short pause and a deep breath allowed Stanley to open his mouth to say something. The Sheriff put his outstretched hand up, turn his head and closed his eyes for a few seconds then turned back and continued, “And, what was I told?” Looking at Margaret then back at Stanley, “Waldo had been driven home. And, even worse, that the drivers were none other than the Justice of the Peace’s kids.” He could not contain his anger anymore, and pointed his finger in Stanley’s face and shouted, “Yes, your kids!” Followed by with his teeth clenched, “What do you have to say about that?”

Maybe you would have to know Stanley Murray, as most in town did, his mouth started to expand into a s%^t-eatin’ grin while those blue eyes twinkled. This usually worked on everyone else but today, the Sheriff would have none of it. He stood glaring and Stanley replied, “Well,” followed by a very deep breath and a “Hmm, I guess nothing.” A shrug of the shoulders, then, “You will have to come back another day.”

Then, just as he did every day, he continued on into the station, grabbed a bottle of pop from the cooler inside the door and opened it, walked over and placed his lunchbox on the counter and dropped onto a stool at the counter.  Margaret followed, making eye contact with Stan Jr and Sally who looked, well you can only imagine.

As they heard the Sheriff slam his car door once again, and peel out, Stanley began to chuckle, Margaret just smiled, and the kids, well they let out a sigh of relief. One good turn deserves another, isn’t that how the saying goes?

Just to let you know, that Sheriff did finally get Waldo’s license. And for quite some time, Waldo could be seen coming up Main Street on his riding lawn mower making his way to once more socialize with his buddies. All was well in Greenwood.