(Editor’s foreword: Don Armstrong has been involved in Rhode Island hockey his entire life: as a player and then as a coach at all youth levels from mites through midgets. From there he moved on to coach high school and eventually college hockey.)

I can say this without hesitation or embarrassment: I am a born and bred North Main Street Arena rink rat! I grew up on Second Street in a house that was on the upper edge of the parking lot that was just off to the right of the Arena.

The roar of cheering that radiated from that building kept me awake many times all through my youth. I could tell the score of the game by the sounds that came out of those big fans up over the stands. No one in those days knew about 2nd hand smoke. When I had my bedroom window open to hear the crowd, I could smell it.

I remember wondering when I was very small what went on in that gigantic brick
building. And I always knew that I was “home” when we would return from family day trips and I would see the RI Red Rooster on the facade of the building and the oversized letters saying only “Arena”.

As soon as I was old enough to start skating and playing hockey, my mission and that of all of the neighborhood kids was to sneak onto the ice in the Arena and play hockey “just like the pros”. When we were young, most of the time, we had to settle for the pond in the cemetery on the other side of North Main Street. We would walk home through the dark cemetery after playing hockey until sunset every day on cold winter nights, not afraid of ghosts and goblins, but talking about hockey and the Reds.

When the 1st ice machine arrived at the Auditorium in 1954 we called it “The Monster”. In those days, if you wanted to sneak on the ice when it wasn’t being used, it was a good idea to be polite and ask Mr. Rosa if it was ok. If he wasn’t around, Mr. Stinson, who was in charge of the boiler room, would most times say, “OK, but don’t damage the ice.”

Rosa lived far out in Pascoag and he would leave the Arena for home late afternoon. Stinson lived on Third Street next to the Arena. Before he would leave the rink on a “dead night” to go walking to his house, he opened a few windows in the back of the rink facing his house. We were quiet and skated in the dark and caused no problems.
I suppose that the fact that Mr. Stinson’s son, Jack, joined us on some of these occasions was the reason why we never seemed to get in trouble!

Years later, as a junior at LaSalle, playing for the New England High School Hockey Championship on that very ice surface, I thought to myself, “Now I know what home ice advantage really means!” Some players who were on the ice for that tournament were a bag of nerves. For me I was “home.” We won it that year of ‘61 before a sold out and standing room crowd.

The first time that I went to a hockey game at the Arena was in the early 50’s when the Reds played on a Sunday afternoon against Syracuse. I was seven years old at the time. I can remember that at one point in the third period, the Reds were up 6 - 3.
The fans were all over the Syracuse goalie, Gordie Bell. Yelling, screaming and waving their handkerchiefs. I asked my father what was with the handkerchiefs. He said that the crowd was signaling for Bell to give up. That day, I fell in love with the sport of Ice Hockey!

And I also fell in love with the atmosphere in “The Old Barn.” The Reds were great with all of the local kids and families. They were very generous with complimentary tickets. There weren’t many events held in there that I didn’t get to see. Being on the “free list” because we lived very close the Arena was a nice gift. Looking back, it was like a Christmas present every day when the Auditorium had something going on.

I remember the ‘55 - ‘56 season. I don’t believe that I missed a single Reds home
game. What a thrill being at all those games! On my birthday that year, I got my first pair of brand new hockey gloves. My hockey idol at that time was Ivan Irwin. Remember him? He was the great defenseman that wore jersey # 2 for the Reds that had no palms in his gloves so that he might (?) have a better feel for the opposing players’ shirts. Yes, you guessed it! I cut the palms out so that I could get a better feel also. Believe me, my Mom and Dad didn’t appreciate what I did even one little bit!

That same spring, I remember the Reds coming back from Cleveland with the Calder Cup. It was a Sunday morning and there were thousands of fans waiting to greet the Reds as they returned victorious. This was such an exciting moment for all of us neighborhood kids. “Our” team was the best there was in the AHL! As the bus carrying the team approached the Arena, a cheer went up that filled the neighborhood. The bus seemed to acknowledge the crowd’s cheers by honking its horn repeatedly as it came up the hill from Frost Street onto Third and North Main. #7 Jimmy Bartlett was the player honking the bus horn.

I remember the good guys, but I also remember the bad guys. The bad guy of all the teams that played against the Reds from the mid 50’s to early 60’s was Fred Glover. As kids, we couldn’t figure out why he would come into Providence, start trouble (Of course, it was always “them” who started the trouble.) and then got himself get beat up. It happened all the time! Glover, today, remains as one of the all time point scorers and great players in AHL history.

As I said earlier, I played hockey for LaSalle. High school hockey on Friday and Saturday evenings at the Auditorium was an institution in the state and a right of passage for all high school hockey players. There weren’t that many diversions to keep us busy in those days. Certainly, there were no computers, video games, malls, cable TV, and there was only black and white TV to watch. High School Hockey was another thing at the Arena for most teenagers.

So, on game nights, almost every team in the state would play. There would be four games. Every team had its own section in the stands. And that section never
changed. The LaSalle fans always sat in the same place. When we played, we always
knew where our crowd was. Our full dressed band would be there a few times. And every other team had its section. The Cranston kids would sit in their spot, the Burrillville kids in theirs, and the Hope kids in theirs. One thing that I liked about the high school games in those days is that fans would come for the first game and stay for all of the games.

Looking back at the whole experience of growing up next to the Auditorium, I can only say that I enjoyed every moment of it. When they tore the place down to make a
parking lot for a nearby hospital, I made sure to get a brick from that great place to save.

Even now, when I drive by the location, I can still imagine and see the Rooster preening in the peak of the facade, crowing proudly that he was a Rhode Island Red and damned proud of it! In the very late ‘50’s, during the warm and sunny summer days I would climb up to that peak.

I thank my parents for moving our family from Pawtucket to be living in a home next to the Arena. I also thank the Rhode Island Reds for being there.