If you close your eyes and listen to Raymond Butera reminisce about his childhood in Bangor, you can almost hear the laughter of children playing ball safely in the streets and the clanging of trolley cars.

Butera, 76, paints a vivid and colorful picture of what life was like in the “old days” of the Queen City. And yet, as Norman Rockwell-like as his past may seem, Butera’s life was anything but ordinary.

Bangor was quite divided in those days and living “below State Street” as Butera did was more about class status than geography.

“You were looked down upon if you were born below State Street,” he said, referencing his former Hancock Street residence. “We were poor, but we were a little better off than some, but everybody was in the same boat. And it was a very European neighborhood. We had people who were Polish, French, Russian, Jewish, Italian and so on all living around us. We were thought of as bums in that area, but still the people from above State Street would come down to see the bootleggers.”

Butera, a first-generation American, was the middle child of seven born to Carmela and Lorenzo, who came to Bangor from Sicily nearly a century ago by way of Ellis Island, New York.

“Being Sicilian isn’t really like being Italian. We were a lower grade and everybody knew it. The Irish kids were afraid of us in school,” said Butera with a grin. “We spoke Italian at home but my mother taught herself to read and write English.”

Lorenzo owned the New York Meat Market grocery store on Hancock Street, while his son earned a buck in a variety of creative ways, which wasn’t easy for the young boy. Butera was stricken with polio that affected his left foot, shoulder and most notably his eyesight, but he didn’t let it slow him down.

He pulled his weight by polishing shoes, returning bottles, washing windows on busy Exchange Street, and peddling the Bangor Daily Commercial newspaper, among other jobs.

“There was no money, and Bangor was hard hit after the Depression,” said Butera. “If you wanted a nickel for the show, it was up to you to make it however you could.”

Butera was always enterprising, though he didn’t do well in school due to his failing vision. He now has a strong thirst for knowledge and a deep desire for learning, said his wife, Nonie.

“I knew I couldn’t see well, but I never said anything because you had to stay in line and not speak out,” he said. “But one day in the fourth grade, the city nurse, Mrs. Rice, came around and realized I couldn’t see and she got me glasses. Then when I went to church, well, I never saw anything prettier than [St. John’s Catholic Church] in my life, all the stained glass and everything.”

But through all the hardship, Butera and his friends had the time of their lives.

“The trolley cars were a big part of my life,” he said. “They made the city alive. It used to cost a nickel or dime, but sometimes we’d find a driver who would be good to us kids and let us ride all night long when it wasn’t busy. We’d bum coins from the English soldiers on the train, too. We called it hustling back then but if we didn’t do it, we’d come home with empty pockets. My father would have ripped my head off if he knew. I give children coins and bills now, whenever I can, because I remember what it was like.”

A favorite time for Butera was when the circus came to town. The animals and performers paraded through the streets from the Union Station up to Bass Park.

Going out to lunch with sister Carmela was also a special treat.

“She worked at Freeses department store and would take Raymond out every so often to restaurants to teach him table manners,” said Nonie.

“Bangor was a slower pace then, but it had a fantastic atmosphere,” said Butera. “You could play a whole baseball game in the street because there were so few cars. It was a great life.”

But as fulfilling as his childhood was, nothing can compare to the time he fell for Nonie, a family friend who turned out to be the love of his life.

“He gave up being a roofer and started working at Eastern Fine mill because it was more stable employment,” said Nonie. They married in 1961 and had two daughters.

“I had a hell of a royal ride,” said Butera. “I am in love with my daughters, and then this one here,” he added, pointing to Nonie, “is something else. She has been good to me and I’m very lucky.”

Butera’s life and times are a testament to what can be accomplished with the right attitude and love of family and friends.

Carol Higgins is director of communications at Eastern Agency on Aging. For information on EAA, call 941-2865, e-mail info@eaaa.org, or log on www.eaaa.org.