In the late 1950s there was a lot less of everything in West Windsor than there is now. Mainly, that means people. Then there were fewer than 4,000. Today there are nearly eight times that many. Also, of course, that includes seasonal holiday decorations — mainly those for Christmas.
For many an important purchase at this time of year was the Christmas tree, provided you knew where to buy it. This was before stores like Home Depot and Lowes existed. So when people started to move to West Windsor, they had to do their own “tree finding research.”
If you moved here from Princeton as we did, you had probably been getting your tree from a hardware store on Nassau Street. Since we had a station wagon to carry it, it didn’t really matter that we now lived four miles away from the source instead of only one mile. A little later, in the ’60s, when the Princeton Shopping Center opened, there were two supermarkets there — an Acme and an A&P — and they both carried Christmas trees. These were natural trees, Norway spruce, mainly. The artificial trees of those days were not very good.
Along with the tree were the decorations — the outside ones that everyone could see when they drove around town. Some people came to be known for their elaborate displays with colored lights, and it was fun to drive around each year to see what the current version looked like. Some had full-size nativity scenes, and others featured Santa Claus and his sleigh — also full size. And this was all before there were the long strings of miniature lights that are so prevalent today.
Needless to say, this was also long before there was any municipally sponsored display of holiday lights. First of all, there was no official municipal building at the time or other site at which to mount such a display. Nor was there a staff to take care of such things. Although there was a township committee that met regularly, the municipal offices in those days were spread around. For example, the township clerk , tax collector, and building inspector all operated out of their own homes.
But after a few years of going back into Princeton to get our tree, we decided to check out some sources closer to home. There were several farms in the township where it was known that suitable trees were being raised by the farmer, and if you knew “somebody” you could go there and get one. In our case there was a small tree “farm” on a property on Clarksville Road just across from Grovers Mill Pond and a few hundred yards south of the mill. It was where Ron Rogers lived, and each December he put out a small sign that said “XMAS TREES.” One Christmas — probably around 1962 — I decided to stop in and see what the tree situation was. That started a long friendship that went on until Ron passed away in 1999.
On my first tree visit I found Ron working in his patch of trees that grew behind his house on part of the land that is now known as the “Rogers Preserve.” The land encompassed a large portion of the area bordered by Clarksville and Cranbury roads and what is now Landing Lane. A large portion of the property near its center was planted with several species of evergreens, all of which had been carefully trimmed and cultivated to serve as ideal Christmas — or “xmas” — trees if purchased in early December.
On introducing myself to Ron as a neighbor, I soon learned that he was a man of few words — a very nice guy, but not talkative. He briefly explained that I could look around among this year’s crop and point out the tree I wanted. I could then cut it myself with his large bow saw or he would cut it, taking into account how much of the exposed trunk I wanted so it would fit into my tree stand. He knew his trees. And for many years, when I asked the price after getting it ready to take home he said, “four dollars.”
During our small talk, I soon learned that he had once lived in Frenchtown, up in Hunterdon County, west of Flemington. He had been the captain of the basketball team at Frenchtown High School. He then went to Rutgers. But his main interest in sports earlier had been the Brooklyn Dodgers baseball team — the same team that left Brooklyn and moved to Los Angeles in 1958, the year after I moved to West Windsor.
As teenagers, we both rooted for the Dodgers, he from western New Jersey and I from home right there in Brooklyn. We started to compare notes on which players we liked and what their records were. We both knew things like batting averages and how many home runs they hit each year. As old-time fans often do, we started testing each other’s knowledge.
One year, when I went to get a tree, the first thing Ron said to me was, “Pete Coscarart.” I answered, “second base, 1940.” Then followed a discussion of how the team changed that year and then won the National League pennant in 1941, partly because Coscarart was replaced by Billy Herman, whom the Dodgers got from the Chicago Cubs. For some years after that, we tested each other’s memories about the Dodgers every time I went for a tree.
Ron is still fondly remembered in West Windsor through both the Rogers Preserve, which encompasses his tree farm, and the Ron Rogers Arboretum at the corner of Hightstown and Clarksville roads. I’ll write more about both of these in future columns.
A Special Ron Rogers Tree Story
During the late 1970s when Landing Lane was being developed near the Rogers tree farm, Marcia and Roger Alig and their family moved there and started to patronize Ron’s tree farm each Christmas. One year — possibly 1984 — two of their children decided that they would like to take over the tree-buying chores. In Marcia’s words:
“We used to walk across the road and tag the tree we wanted and then go back when Ron was there to pick it up. One year, our son Graham, who was 12 years old or so, and sister Heidi, six years younger, insisted on doing it themselves. Off they went, Graham carrying the saw. Later I looked out to see them returning with Heidi lugging the trunk of a tree and Graham the tip. When I asked her why she had been stuck with the heavy part of the tree, she said, “Well, he didn’t let me use the saw, so I insisted on carrying the trunk! I wanted to do something.”
