RHS Class 1985 25th Reunion

     This is from the FaceBook Page for the RHS Class of 1985 25th Reunion:  

 

      RHS Class of 1985 Hello Friends: Elissa and I have just gotten off the phone and we are set for October 9, 2010! We’ve booked the Woodcliff Lake Hilton. Our reunion dinner and evening will not exceed $100 per person (this includes appetizers, dinner, dessert, and OPEN BAR!). The property has recently been redone and is lovely. There are lots of amenities including a pool, jogging track, tennis, etc. If you want to get away for the weekend, there is a lot to do! In addition to the hotel, the vicinity itself offers so many options (downtown Ridgewood to shop and catch-up with old friends). There are some nice spas in the area too. We have also reserved a room block for $129.00. The room block will go live next week and be listed under “Ridgewood High School Reunion-Class of 1985”. When it goes live, I will post a message and you can reserve your room. The initial block is 25 rooms. If we fill-up the block, we’ll increase it by another 25 rooms. Our theory here is: Open Bar, walk to room! As soon as I work out payment details, they will be posted here as well. Now you can make plans via plane, train or automobile! We look forward to seeing you all – as many as possible! Please let us know if you have any questions. Abby Emerson Gray & Elissa Viarango Blesch

The Gateway

By writing this blog I am training my memory to return to early childhood memories of peace and joy. Recapturing these events in my earlier life, in words and pictures, is helping me to discover I have more access to my past and its beginnings than I previously believed. I am in essence disciplining myself to become a retriever. Here I am, with my Dad's finger on the camera lens, getting ready to run in my first Varsity Track Meet in College. I wore spikes for the first time that day and easily won the 1/2 mile event. Unfortunately, my lack of familiarity with spikes caused me to come crashing down in a heap on my shoulder as I crossed the finish line. I learned you don't stop yourself the same way wearing spikes as you do with my more familiar flats. I went down like somebody had shot me and was lucky that I was winning by a heady margin or someone might have trampled me as I lay there helpless on the tartan track. Try this visualization which I replicate here from the Book of Runes: "Visualize yourself standing before a gateway on a hilltop. Your entire life lies out behind you and below. Before you step through the gateway, pause and review the past: the learning and the joys, the victories and the sorrows---everything it took to bring you here."

Baseball Tryouts

      This is a post dedicated to anybody who has tried to hold a wooden bat on a cold spring day. These events usually occurred during the tryouts for a "Major League" team in whatever league you were old enough to participate in. These memories I recall were long before today's ubiquitous use of batting gloves. During these contests which pitted boy versus the baseball, it didn't matter how much dirt we rubbed on our hands, the first contact between bat and ball in the early spring would leave your hands vibrating for a few minutes at least. Nothing could be done except to wait for the sting to go away. A second swing was usually ill-advised, unless someone had corrected the flaw in your first stroke or the next pitch was lobbed in ever so gently. There usually wasn't much time to consider the merits of taking a second swing, and to excuse yourself from taking a second swing would leave you looking weak in the eyes of prospective coaches. This sort of caution might even end your tryout early and would mean a year in the minors. 

      To most people, a year in the minors was the lessor of two evils, especially if you had received an unusually severe sting on your first misguided swing at the plate. Fielding balls at these tryouts in this early Spring weather was no picnic either. A bad hop grounder off your chest when one wasn't expecting it left more than one person I saw gasping for breath and writhing on the ground. There wasn't much we could do in those days as the fields were not quite as well manicured or drained as they are today in Ridgewood. We would usually just help the injured party off the field and continue our attempts to impress the onlookers with our rusty Baseball skills. You see, Baseball in my youth was one of those games which had to be played and practiced outside. Today there are indoor batting cages, at least at the High School level, where one can be reminded of the feel of a bat on ball long before the requisite first Spring tryouts. This is all not to say we didn't have some fun at these tryouts. If you made it through the first round of batting practice you were set for any other obstacles which might come your way, like shagging fly balls in a muddy outfield. These quagmires were loving called "creek mud" and one fellow actually acquired that as his nickname after one hilarious incident when he dared to try and catch a fly ball hit directly into the center of one of these soft miry lands. Nobody remembers if he caught the ball or not because the name stuck, just like the mud he come up covered in from head to toe.

Willard Reminiscences!

As the Ridgewood High School class of 1970 prepares for its 40th reunion, many Willard Elementary alumni have begun to reconnect here. There are quite a few memories being shared, along with the usual inside jokes, and a bunch of class pictures if you scroll to the bottom of the page. The reunion details are as follows: Welcome to the Ridgewood High School Class of 1970 40th reunion website! The Reunion will take place Columbus Day weekend, Oct 8-9, 2010 in and around Ridgewood, NJ. More information can be found here. You can contact my old neighbor Judy Schoneman Beirne for more details: jbeirne_308@yahoo.com They even have a logo which I hope they use to make some souvenirs from www.cafepress.com

Peter McNamara

It's funny how through the wonders of the Internet names which you haven't thought about in years can produce clear memories, ones compelling enough to write about. Peter McNamara, pictured on the far right, is one of these instances.

He lived with his family on Sherwood Road, one block away from our house, and close enough to Willard School that we would see each other often. He was two years older than I but he treated everyone well no matter their age.

Like most boys in the Willard schoolyard of the 60s and 70s, he played sports as they occurred in each season: football in the autumn, basketball in the winter, and baseball in the spring and summer. He was a well coordinated athlete who could be counted on to meet or exceed everyone's expectations for whatever position he was playing.

The thing which really stands out in my mind after all these years is the gentle, soft-spoken way in which he lead his life. He had no need to bully or brag to be noticed. Pete was simply a good guy that everyone liked to be around. He has been gone for 30 years now though he did leave a legacy which everyone who knew him will always cherish.

Signs of Spring

While growing up we could depend upon the crocus has a first harbinger of Spring. It didn't matter that a foot of snow might fall after it had sprouted, this was little deterrent to these early bloomers. They would eventually brush off the snow like nothing had happened and then have their day in the sun. Living where I do in NYC I have to search out the crocus this time of year. The daffodils and tulips are no trouble to spot but the crocus seems to make a concerted effort to hide, likely some form of self-defense mechanism which its cousins in the suburbs don't need to consider. I saw my first crocus while walking my dog this afternoon and this occasion, along with a look at the calendar, confirms the beginning of my favorite time of year: Spring. I enjoy Spring the most of all the seasons for many reasons, including that it marks the beginning of the baseball season. Other reasons to revel in the coming of Spring are the hopeful suggestions contained in the beauty of the flowers and trees as they make their entrances, and bloom in their usual order here in the northeast. All my life it really hasn't taken much more than baseball and blooming flowers to make my day and I'm glad I'm still able to retain this childlike simplicity, even as I make my way through the inevitability of middle age and beyond.

Fallen Trees

 

     It doesn't make you a "tree hugger" in the pejorative sense to feel badly for what went on Ridgewood during the last huge storm. These trees in the picture I'm told on are Hillcrest Road down near the horse stables. I must have walked and rode my bicycle by them hundreds of times while growing up. While I am aware that most things in town are going to change, I always have held out the hope that the countless trees which shaded me, provided me with leaves to rake, and places to hide behind during games of Hide-And-Go-Seek would remain unchanged during my lifetime. They were huge before I knew of their magnificence so it seemed logical to my youthful self that they could endure this way for a long time. The recent storm popped the air from that childhood fantasy of an idea. Fortunately, there are still plenty of trees and the Village of Ridgewood still takes great pride in the care they provide them so nobody is to blame, it is just one of those things which occur and make us grateful for the huge oaks, maples, and elms we have remaining.

The Magic of Ordinary Days

      I caught glimpse of these words on a Hallmark Channel commercial and immediately wrote them down knowing full well they would inspire me to write something. The magic of ordinary days I can now recall may not have felt very memorable to us when we were growing up and trying make use of the time we had outside each day with our friends. Discussions could be heated as to what we should play, and whether or not we had played that particular game or activity too much. It was especially difficult when inclement weather sequestered us inside and TVs were not so ubiquitous as they are today. We truly had to use our imaginations, and take into account where we were and who among us was capable of the activity. When we were outside we also had to beware of ponds of mud on playing fields and the activities of other groups of kids who might not look so kindly upon our intruding on their space. All in all these weren't so magical times to kids growing up and trying to mind the written and unwritten rules of the schoolyard or a friend's basement. Of course, looking back these are the most precious and magical times, especially when we filter them through our rose-colored glasses. I can return to any one of a number of ball fields in Ridgewood and clearly remember events which occurred, sometimes over 40 years ago. Most of these same fields have changed in some small way and are largely better cared for but I can still see through the mist of time the ball I hit or the throw a friend made, or a mad kick to the finish line. These are magical occurrences to me whenever I am on the spot, or feel these emotions recollected in tranquility as William Wordsworth would say. I am able to recall them vividly and with such appreciation, despite the fact that at another time we children might have felt them most ordinary, and nothing as extraordinary as my writing might lead some to infer.

Parallel Parking in Ridgewood

 

 

     Joe Farrell got off a good one liner in my post about Roger Sweeney teaching me the finer points of driving and about cars in the 70s being bigger and thus easier to parallel park, especially if you used the old standby calculation of 1 1/2 cars lengths to estimate your approach. When it came time for me to take my driver's test I had a choice between our "boat" of a Buick station wagon and this little Opel Manta Luxus, sans the young Molly Ahearn of course. Being young and wanting to show my prowess as a driver, I went with the small car which had the stick shift and passed with no troubles. The Opel had been purchased by my Dad when he had turned 50 and I sometimes wonder if there was some sort of mid-life change going on in his mind. Not a crisis but maybe a realization that life is short, and that if you can afford a small indulgence of a car like this one, then by all means go out and buy it. The rest of the family ultimately got much more use out of it then he ever did but that didn't seem to phase him, unless it was left dirty or without gas when he wanted to use it to go golfing on the weekends. On those occasions his temper would flare and pity the poor soul who forgot. He wasn't a violent man, and never once did he ever hit any of his, but you could expect a severe lecture and the loss of driving privileges until he had cooled down. Now that I am 50 I am beginning to see some of the changes that we all go through at this age, I wonder how this will all manifest itself. Living in NYC I don't have the garage space for a sports car, in addition to my tried and true Mazda. Though maybe a career change is in my future. I have spent the last 15 years working in IT and maybe there is some authentic next step which I ought to try and get in tune with. We'll see what changes lie in store. One thing for certain, you can count on me posting my observations here on this blog.

Roger Sweeney

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      Roger Sweeney was a long-time football coach at RHS, who retired after the 1975 season. He didn't retire from coaching football at the same time as he eventually did from teaching and, I was lucky enough to spend many hours driving around with him and Rob Lane while he taught us the finer points of driving. He was a good instructor and the one lesson he wanted us to always remember about the blind spots in a driver's rear vision is something I practice to this day. It is drilled so deeply in my memory that I always cringe whenever I see people back up their cars by only using their mirrors and, never once checking their blind spots like Mr Sweeney recommended. Mr Sweeney also taught us how to parallel park like professionals in the Graydon Pool parking lot. To this day I can with a quick glance tell if someone trying to park will make it on the first try. I just use the simple formula we were taught of allowing yourself to be 1 1/2 cars lengths in front of the spot you are trying to parallel park into. This correct distance never fails me and usually shows whether or not a driver is from New Jersey. Whenever I see someone make a successful parallel park I am always tempted to ask them if they learned to drive in New Jersey.

St. Pat's Day

      Traditionally a day where one is supposed to cut skill and hop a train or bus to go see in the St. Patrick's Day Parade in New York City. I can't say that I ever did this, despite my Irish roots. When we are young it is often times the mere act of contemplating something as forbidden as honoring this holiday with a bold act, which makes for pleasant memories. St. Pats Day in NYC is a raucous day filled with high-spirited parade goers and plenty of alcohol. I have attended a few in my adulthood and they were more than colorful enough in terms of the acts/hijinxs done to honor the holiday. I am sure that kids today at RHS are going through the same thought process that generations before them did. Whether they actually do the deed of ditching school for the bright lights of Broadway is another story. What is important are the stories they tell to one another and tell of one another. These same stories will be told again throughout their lives whenever they get together with fellow alumni. As is usually the case the dramatic events will be in hindsight even more so, and the fear they felt about any potential punishment will be long forgotten, as it should be.

Chris Duflocq Update

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     Tom Thurston pointed me to the correct spot on the Ridgewood Schools Web site where Chris Duflocq's picture and accomplishments can be found among the 2008 inductees. Here is an exerpt: "Chris DuFlocq (Class of 1977) made his mark in Ridgewood High School athletics in soccer. He was named to The Record’s All- Century Boys Soccer Team as a first-team goalkeeper. DuFlocq was the starting goalkeeper for the Maroons for the 1975-76 seasons. RHS won two NNJIL titles and a county championship with DuFlocq minding the nets. Ridgewood’s combined record for those two seasons was 34-6-1 with two wins in the county tournament being credited to his goalkeeping skills in penalty shootouts. DuFlocq recorded 27 shutouts in his career, including a heartbreaking overtime 0-0 decision to arch-rival Kearny in the 1975 state tournament that was then decided on corner kicks. In 41 matches for head coach Dick Bennett’s Maroons, DuFlocq gave up 22 goals for a 0.54 goals-against average. In 32 league matches during his career, DuFlocq recorded 23 shutouts and gave up a total of 13 goals for a 0.40 goals-against average. Ridgewood recorded an outstanding 28-3-1 league record during that time. He was named first team All-NNJIL and first team All-County in both 1975 and 1976. _ Jeff Yearing, who was an assistant coach to Bennett during DuFlocq’s career and is now Ridgewood High School’s girls soccer head coach, said, “In 36 years of coaching high school soccer, I have had the pleasure of coaching many incredible goalkeepers, both male and female. Chris DuFlocq still sets the standard by which I judge all others, and none have ever surpassed the complete talent that he possessed in so many different areas the position demands.” DuFlocq went on to an outstanding career at Glassboro State College (now Rowan University) and continued playing locally on many men’s club teams."

Chris Deflocq

     I'm a little late to the party but I did want to congratulate Chris Duflocq for being elected to the RHS Athletic Hall of Fame. He was part of the class of 2008 and joins fellow class of 1977 members Becky Deetz and Paul Ferraro. Unfortunately, if you follow the link you won't see Chris's photo or career highlights as the webmaster is even later to the party than I am. RHS is trying to provide a sense of the history of Ridgewood High School to their current students by efforts such as the Hall of Fame, and one other you won't find on their web site but will see if you ever visit RHS, that is, the Wall of Distinguished Alumni near the main entrance. This long overdue recognition really points out what everybody knows but doesn't always realize until they have graduated: brains and citizenship count just as much as athletics in the grand scheme of things, probably more so. It just doesn't seem that way with all the adulation we bestow upon our jocks, sometimes at the expense of people working quietly in the background to make things better for us all. 

 

Strange Names (North New Jersey's Got 'Em)

I wouldn't normally recycle an old post, but this one is coming up on two years old (have I been posting here that long?), and with the new traffic and Ridgewood Expats floating around, I thought it would be fun to resurrect a fun song.

Back in the early 80s, while a student at Clemson University in South Carolina, I got into a musician from Mississippi named Steve Forbert, who had a hit with Romeo's Tune. In the intervening years I forgot about him, but recently heard that he has a new song: Strange Names (North New Jersey's Got 'Em):

Graydon Pool in Winter 2010

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     Hey, if it is posted on FaceBook then it is fair game. Thanks to Alan Seiden for this Graydon Pool snow shot . You will find it originally on Ridgewood Patch . With all the chatter regarding Graydon Pool on all the available mediums, the best one on the Ridgewood Expats discussion board was about the rite of passage of swimming to the "Third Raft." Our Mom used to take us exclusively to the grassy side because we lived in upper Ridgewood so this was the fastest way to park. Also, we had friends who lived nearby to Graydon so they would walk over to join us. The routine was pretty simple: we arrived mid-morning for a swimming lesson or to swim until Noon. Then we had a sandwich and some juice. We had to wait at least 20 minutes before we could go back in the water, lest we would induce a gramp and drown (the Moms were all in agreement on this bit of wisdom). After lunch we would go to the Good Humor truck for an ice cream. I can clearly remember them going up in price from $.10 to $.15, and finally to .$20 during the period we visited Graydon. Lastly, around 3PM we would ask for the pennies from my Mom's purse to purchase penny gumballs. This burned off the last of our youthful energy and helped make the ride home a quiet one.

Ridgewood Fire House

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      My pal Kurt posted this to the Ridgewood Expats site on FaceBook. I know he won't mind the repost: "These old firehouses were wonderful. The fire engines were horse drawn steam water pumps, kept in the garage below, while the firemen lived above. It was quickly discovered that a stair wide enough to let all the men run down at full speed was also wide enough for the horses to come UP! So the stair was made smaller and tucked away, and the sliding poles were added to get the firemen down." This old firehouse was torn down to make room for a parking lot.

Woolworths 1968

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     Where do you start when remembering Woolworths? I start with the ladies behind the lunch counter who put up with more kids and their orders of french fries and cokes than any person should ever have to endure. It's not that we were disrespectful, only that we were too young and clueless to leave the huge tips they deserved. Oh well, it was a different age, and these ladies weren't trying to make huge, Ridgewood mortgage payments. Next stop is the photo booth in the front of the store. For the princely sum of $.25 you were allowed, I believe, 4 photos. These were promptly developed and delivered before you could leave the store. After the photo booth I believe the birds and fish in the back of the store would be my final lasting memory. Besides their smell, you could not help but notice all the noise they made. The people who took care of this menagerie had to have had the patience of saints because there were so many to mind. It boggles the mind that one could find all of these things, not to mention the bargain basement, under one roof.

Welcome Ridgewood Expats

Welcome to those of you who are visiting this corner of the Internet after finding it via the Ridgewood Expats group on FaceBook. This blog is part web portal, diary, and bulletin board. It has no advertisements or ax to grind. The hope here is to record memories and post photos of how it was in Ridgewood and its environs in the 1960s and 1970s. My family lived there between 1961 and 1978 so that is what I know best and have endeavored to write about lest I forget too soon.

If you have a thought or memory which you'd like to elaborate upon feel free to let me know as co-bloggers from all classes are welcome. You can also send your photos and let them become part of the public record. Lastly, if you have a link to a class site or one of a one-time Ridgewood student then send them, too.

I expect people to use this site and the many others on the Internet, like those on FaceBook, as an opportunity to reflect and hopefully reconnect with people who they knew when they were younger. Its not a perfect medium and never will be. Luckily for us all it will likely be superseded by some new form of Social Networking which has yet to be created. This is all fine with me.

I just hope this Social Networking phenomenon gives you all some grins and helps you remember your favorite stories of growing up so you can tell them at your next reunion. I guess what I'm saying is that if we write these things down then they will be easier to recall. William Butler Yeats states this best:

When You Are Old and Grey

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

RHS Class of 1970 Reunion

http://www.rhs70.myevent.com/index.php

The Reunion will take place Columbus Day weekend, Oct 8-9, 2010 in and around Ridgewood, NJ.

Ask questions about anything/everything
RHS70 40th Reunion
Irene Nagy


Icebreaker (8:00 – midnight)
Elks Club, Ridgewood
111 Maple Ave (next to town hall)

Meet and greet your fellow classmates in a totally informal and unstructured setting. (Munchies provided. Cash bar. TBD)

Al and Harry's

It seems quaint now to think we used to go buy newspapers at local stores. In Ridgewood we had Drapkins and Al and Harry's. The photo here is of Al and Harrys, which was around the corner from Drapkins. Both were places that the cops would go to briefly escape from the elements and to engage in conversations with the local owners and towns folk.

The Sunday newspapers, I know from first hand experience, were folded in two stages. On Saturday the first half arrived which included things like Travel, Book Review, Magazine, and the Sunday coupons and advertisements. The more time sensitive sections would arrive on Sunday. Together they made up part of many people's Sunday rituals, which included going to Church and picking up a dozen fresh doughnuts at Fischl's Bakery.

Al and Harry's used to sell glazed doughnuts and coffee which we would eat while on break from folding papers at Drapkins on Saturday mornings. These would always hit the spot as we used to start by 6 AM in order to get all the bundles of newspaper inserts off the sidewalk so people could walk.

142 Glenwood Road

The old homestead circa 1975. The gravel driveway I never understood but my Dad liked it. Of course, it was the boys job to sweep the gravel back into the driveway. All it took was a rain and we had a job to do. Just the act of pulling a car into the driveway would send the gravel down the sidewalk since we lived on a hill, and give us a weekly job to keep us out of trouble. The driveway was paved over shortly after we moved in 1978. I imagine the new owners didn't have the patience to keep sweeping the gravel back, and I don't blame them.

The house as I recall sold for about $140,000. Today it is valued at 4 times that amount. The subsequent owners have added onto the house by converting the garage into living quarters and turning the den into a garage. It's funny that we turned a porch into a den and then they turned it into a garage. I guess they had to keep up with the neighbors on both sides who were adding on or tearing down and rebuilding.

The Genius of The Lawns

According to Bob Wiese, RHS class of 1966, this picture is one of the few Cap Cod style houses left in The Lawns. Originally, there were 310 houses of this type and by the late 1960s they were all within a short walk of the Hawes Elementary School. Children didn't have to worry about crossing busy streets without supervision, unlike most of the other elementary schools in Ridgewood.

Bob goes on the say in a FaceBook post on the Ridgewood Ex Pats group wall:

There were no garages or fences, The home owners build their own garages and fences ( they would go into the woods and cut down white birch trees and make a fence out of them.). They drilled their own well to water their grass. Sounds like the wilderess to me, but then on Monday the men would board the train and go to work in the big city NY and return around 6pm by train to their nice little homestead. All was right with the world.

Sounds like something most people would appreciate now, too.

I call this all "genius" because the houses were affordable, they were located near plenty of woods for the children to explore, and there was nearby public transportation for the commuters. According to one source, the Cap Cods sold for between $9,000 and $12,000. While I admit this must be adjusted for inflation, the fact is you could come up with the 20% down payment more easily than a 20% down payment today on a house costing $600,000. It's the tyranny of large numbers which makes those old time homes seem more affordable.

Pease Library

First a bit of history courtesy of the Ridgewood Library:

Gertrude Pease Anderson, one of the founders of the first volunteer library in Ridgewood, left money in her will to build a library in memory of her father George L. Pease. The library was opened in 1923 and was in use by the library through 1998. The police occupied the building in 1999 when Hurricane Floyd flooded their quarters. They moved to the new Village Hall in 2005.

Today the landmark library building is for rent:

Landmark Building in the Heart of the Village, totally renovated, elegant office space offering wood-burning fireplace, Original Chestnut Woodwork, Built in book cases, High Ceilings and Pallandian Windows overlooking Ridgewood. 2 reserved parking spaces, new high efficiency HVAC individually metered.

The only taker to date has been the company which is renovating the train station.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

It only takes a picture of life in Ridgewood during the 1960s and 70s to send my mind back to the moment which the photo depicts. If you are reading this blog then you probably feel the same.



Posted by Eugene Ferraro on FaceBook.

RIP J.D. Salinger

We were assigned The Catcher in the Rye to read in the 10th grade. Our English teacher, Mr Bennett, told us it was a controversial book but I never saw it that way, unless being controversial also means that by reading it you will be made to think. No question the book succeeded in this regard. This is the sort of novel it is for many people I have spoken with.

It did have some swearing in it but I heard worse in the schoolyard so didn't see the big deal. It also had a scene suggesting that one of Holden Caulfield's teachers was a drunk, and maybe even a pedophile. Though we didn't delve too deeply into these topics in the 10th grade.

I have since read all of Salinger's novels and short stories. I have re-read only The Catcher in the Rye, and that I have done too many times to count. I've found it isn't important to read it from beginning to end because I usually just want to read it in order to feel again some of the sentiments I had the first time I read it. I especially like the beginning where Holden is introducing himself and later the prep school scenes. His train ride home late at night after leaving school is hilarious in his attempts to act smooth in front of the mother of one of his former classmates.

According to the Canadian Broadcasting obituary of Salinger:

"The Catcher in the Rye was reprinted eight times within the first two months of its publication and spent 30 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. It still sells about 250,000 copies a year."

Alma Mater in Winter

It usually wasn't easy or fun to walk the almost two miles to RHS during the winter months. Yes, I didn't have to do it everyday, and I didn't have to carry a ten pound pack. Though it was a challenge on those days I did have to do it. It did keep us lean and I do marvel at how skinny we looked in pictures. The good part, if want to be like me and try to find the bright side, was that it was down hill from our house in Upper Ridgewood. This gave us an extra push in our efforts to arrive at school on time. When it came time to go home I was often involved in sports which meant I could catch a ride with a parent or someone old enough to drive. Then as now parents didn't like their children walking home in the dark or even the late afternoon. Some would say that parents today are too much involved with looking after their kids. I would say it probably is about the same in Ridgewood. In fact, with all the two income families today we might have had more supervision and not even known it. I suppose the difference to me is that there were fewer activities like video games and cell phones which would have kept us inert and at home. Yes, we watched a fair amount of TV but how much can you watch when there were only about 6 channels (2,4,5,7,9,11,13) and the UHF (ultra high frequency) channels? More likely than not, and no matter the weather, we were ordered outside to play in the neighborhood. This helped keep us lean and likely made us more socially engaged than the kids today who spend time playing video games, texting friends, and listening to music. (Often all at the same time!) I'm not ready to say one is truly better than another but I'm leaning towards making the kids get outside and just play with no structured leagues and/or lessons. Just play, just look around and watch the world go by. Remember just lying on your back in the grass and staring at the clouds and commenting on what they looked like?

History of RHS

From the Ridgewood High School web site:


"Ridgewood High School is a unique institution. It has a long reputation of fine service to youth. It provides a huge number of opportunities for students to further their academic, social, or athletic interests. At no time in the past have the students of Ridgewood High enjoyed as many rights and privileges as they do today. Students are becoming increasingly involved in determining the course of their own education. These privileges are to be encouraged and expanded, but they will bring with them ever‑increasing responsibilities for the students of Ridgewood High School. More than ever, each student must realize that there are over 1,650 other students who are a part of this high school and that whatever one student does has an effect on all others. If we can keep this in mind and act accordingly, Ridgewood High School will be that much better.

Ridgewood High School was founded in 1892 when the principal, B.C. Wooster, reorganized the ninth grade into a freshman class and made it the first‑year class of high school. The following year, a sophomore class was added. These two classes met in a four-room structure on Union Street. In 1895, the building on Beech Street (now named Cottage Place) was completed. Due to its spacious rooms, the high school was able to offer a three‑year course. That year, Ridgewood High School was added to the approved list of high schools by the High School Commission of New Jersey. The first class to graduate from this three‑year course consisted of two persons. At the end of Mr. Wooster's principalship, the number of students reached 87 and the number of alumni, 57. By 1912, the high school had 223 students and had outgrown the Beech Street Building. Planning began for a larger facility. The Board of Education purchased the Edwards property on East Ridgewood Avenue and the field between the Edwards property and the Ho‑Ho-Kus Brook, formerly called the White Star Baseball Field. In 1915, the voters defeated a proposal to erect a high school to accommodate 450 students at a cost of $150,000. A year later, $225,000 was appropriated for a new high school to accommodate 600 students. In 1918, the sum was raised to $285,000. Ground was broken in November 1916, and on July 19, 1917, the cornerstone was laid. The formal opening of the new school, delayed by World War 1, was May 7, 1919. In 1915 when Irwin B. Somerville was appointed principal, there were 26 faculty members. The decade was a period of rapid growth. By 1929, the size of the faculty had more than doubled and the number of students had increased greatly. In September 1929, the high school was reorganized into a senior high containing the three upper classes. Freshmen were placed in two junior high schools. One of these was the Benjamin Franklin School which was housed in the high school building. The other, George Washington School, was located on Washington Place. Once again, more space was needed, so a plan was proposed to join the main building with the gymnasium. After several unsuccessful votes, the proposition passed and in the fall of 1930 work was started on the new structure. It was completed in 1931. At that time, Mr. Somerville became supervising principal and George A. Hay was appointed principal. The Village was growing rapidly and within five years, still more space was needed. In 1937, school was dismissed in May so that work could begin building a second floor on the existing building—rooms 202‑216. In September 1945, Ellis D. Brown was appointed acting principal and a year later, he became principal. He served in that capacity until his retirement in June 1960. After World War II, the enrollment again climbed and in 1955 the Benjamin Franklin School was removed from the high school and housed in its new home on North VanDien Avenue, leaving the East Ridgewood Avenue building devoted entirely to grades 10-12. In July 1960, William C. Leach was appointed principal and plans were completed for remodeling and building new additions to provide space for 1,800 students . Work was completed in 1963. In 1970‑71, enrollment was 2,040. A bond issue proposing $7,320,000 for a four-year high school was offered to village voters but turned down in October, 1971. Also defeated at that time was a request for $150,000 for property to enlarge the grounds at East Ridgewood and South VanDien Avenues. In June of 1971, the Ridgewood voters turned back a bond issue for $95,000 to purchase the property at the corner of East Ridgewood and South VanDien Avenues. In order to make instruction and the quality of student life in so large a school more personal and less centralized, the Board of Education in June, 1971, directed that units (Houses) of approximately 700 students each be established. Each house was administered by a dean and a team of three guidance counselors. In 1974, John G. McCutcheon was named principal of the school with an enrollment of 1,935. Under his administration, the House plan gave way to a more centralized administration in which each dean was responsible for a particular area of school life.

Over the years, Ridgewood High School has served students of neighboring communities including Glen Rock, Paramus, Radburn (in Fair Lawn), and Ho‑Ho‑Kus. The last sending/receiving relationship was terminated in 1975 when Ho‑Ho‑Kus residents voted to send their secondary students to Midland Park. In April, 1976, an extensive renovation program (the result of a $4,000,000 bond issue in June 1975) was undertaken. During the 1976‑77 school year, students were housed in five different buildings including Bethlehem Lutheran Church and Emmanuel Baptist Church. To accommodate the building program, a 5-period modular scheduling program was developed with students attending 80-minute classes on alternate days. On July 1, 1977, Dr. Robert Honsinger was appointed as the ninth principal of Ridgewood High School. In September of 1980, the Grade Administrator structure originated with each class having one administrator in charge of attendance, discipline, and class activities during their three years at Ridgewood High School. In September of 1986, the high school became a four-year school with the addition of the Class of 1990 as freshmen. In 1987, after an intensive review and on‑site evaluation by independent observers, Ridgewood High School was one of the few public and private schools of the nation to be granted the prestigious Secondary School Recognition Award by the United States Department of Education. Dr. John R. Crews became the tenth principal of Ridgewood High School on July 1, 1989.

In an evaluation conducted by the Middle States Association in February, 1990, members of the evaluating committee commended many aspects of the curricular and co‑curricular programs and pronounced Ridgewood High School an excellent institution with a superior academic program. In 1991, Ridgewood High School was honored to receive the College Board's Advanced Placement Recognition Award. During the 1992-93 school year, the schedule was modified in an effort to balance class size and better address student learning styles. The new schedule also introduced Unit Lunch, during which the entire high school stopped classes and all students and staff had a common lunch break. In 1989 and again in 1993 New Jersey Monthly recognized Ridgewood High School as one of the eight best high schools in the state. In April of 1994 Redbook Magazine's program titled AMERICA'S BEST SCHOOLS recognized RHS for Overall Excellence. During the 1993-94 school year the high school eliminated tobacco use from the campus and within the line of sight of the campus. While this caused some controversy, initially, the national concern about harmful effects of tobacco and secondary smoke confirmed the correctness of the school's policy change. Dr. John M. Mucciolo was named the eleventh Principal of Ridgewood High School in July of 1997. In December of 1998, voters approved a 19.8 million dollar referendum of which 18.9 million dollars was earmarked for Ridgewood High School. The end result is a new wing that currently houses Science, Mathematics, and Technology. An Art Gallery and renovated classrooms for fine and practical arts, as well as new physical education facilities, including a new gym, locker rooms, and a Fitness Center were all part of this construction project. In addition, a new Campus Center (multi-purpose room) was constructed utilizing part of the courtyard area. Ridgewood was once again evaluated by the Middle States Association, commended, and granted accreditation for the period of May 1, 2000, through May 1, 2010. Mr. John A. Lorenz was appointed the 12th Principal of Ridgewood High School in July of 2006. Mr. Lorenz will lead this comprehensive high school that has earned and maintained a reputation as one of the finest high schools in the nation. Ridgewood High School remains in the forefront of America’s finest twenty-first century high schools by consistently upholding its Tradition of Excellence."

RHS DESIGNATED SILVER MEDAL SCHOOL

In its latest analysis of data on thousands of schools across the country, US News & World Report has placed Ridgewood High School in the top 2.5%. The designation as a Silver Medal School is shared by only 18 others in the state of New Jersey.

To read the US News and World Report story about Best High Schools click here.

The Hermitage

Hard to forget how scary The Hermitage looked to a young child growing up in the 1960s and early 1970s. Then in "January 1972 the Friends of the Hermitage, Inc., a private, non-profit organization, was incorporated. In agreement with the state, the Friends is responsible for historic site management including the furnishing and programs at The Hermitage, while the state is responsible for restoring the structure of the house. This public/private partnership has continued to the present time."

Here it is today.




You need to look no further than this site to see, in my eyes, a clear difference between the northern and southern US. In the north we tend to showcase Revolutionary War artifacts, while in the southern US the tendency is to showcase the Civil War. Of course, this has much to do with the fact that the Civil War was largely fought in the south and that the north has more Revolution War sites to preserve. Both are worthy of our interest, especially if you are like me and have a keen interest in American history.

For those of you who share my interest in Social Networking there is a Facebook page for Fans of The Hermitage.

Chris Richard

Just wanted to give a shout out to Chris Richard and say I added a link to his web site. The picture of him and Bill Hardy appears to be circa 1977.

Chris has been building boats on the Chesapeake for over twenty years and is an accomplished artist whose works are exhibited in the collections of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, The Butler Institute of American Art, and in many private and corporate collections.

New Year's Eve 1977

The best New Year's Eve parties are the ones you can walk home from, or those which are held inside your own home.

The party I attended on New Years 1977 was at Mac Smith's house on Fairmount road and was only a couple of blocks from my house on Glenwood road. It was held during the break between semesters my freshman year at college. This was a time when you could be fairly certain of running into any number of friends from high school, and that was the case on this evening.

Freshmen home on break from college are still a hugely enthusiastic bunch. The grind of studying during the winter months, the toll of pledging fraternities or sororities, and lastly the realization they have left the nest generally have not sunk too deeply into their thoughts by this time. Freshmen still have strong attachments to their home towns and feelings about their high school days so any chance to relive them, even tangentially, brings them great joy. This night in 1977 was no exception.

I must have arrived fairly early in the evening as not too many people had shown up. I was wearing underneath my clothes a pair of red Long Johns from LL Bean so I was set for a frosty night. It might have been the fact these Long Johns were making me feel quite warm that sent me out into the night for a breath of fresh air. Once outside I noticed cars of people my age doing what we always did on the weekend, that is, drive around looking for parties. These cars began stopping by me, as I stood under the street light at the corner of Fairmount and Heights, and asking me if I knew "where the party was tonight." My initial response was quick and accompanied by a broad smile as I pointed to the house behind me. Though after two or three of these occurrences I began to see the fun and mischief that might ensue if I stood there for a while. And that is what I did for the following 45 minutes, until the house was literally bursting with people.

It was a good party that night and we all made plenty of noise and probably broke some things in Mac's house. I vaguely remember a door being cracked, or maybe that was some other night in my past. You could usually rely upon somebody to do something idiotic. You could also rely on everyone who wasn't the host having a good laugh thinking about how Mac would explain the breakage the next day. Though on the whole it was a peaceful party and the police never came. Maybe our newly acquired college sophistication was beginning to show, or we were just more interested in talking with old friends we might not see again for a while, if ever.

I do remember walking home that night feeling like this was our last hurrah together and we had made the best of it. Of course, we would meet up again at reunions but in my mind those nights were too far in the future to contemplate and understand. It indeed was becoming apparent to me that nobody knew the dramatic affect life after high school would have on our perceptions. Nor did we know how it might dampen our desire to drive around Ridgewood hoping to find a grinning young man, standing under a streetlight, pointing people to the party which was going on behind him.

Giants Stadium

I can say that I have attended football games on two occasions since Giants Stadium opened in 1976, both times in 1976 and very early in the season. The NY Football Giants were dreadful that year and the second time I saw them we left early enough in the second half to be home in time to watch the end of the game on TV.

Since that inaugural season I have avidly followed my team no matter where I have lived in these United States, but never felt the urge to go tailgate and attend another game. The thought of tailgating in the exhaust fumes of the Giants Stadium parking lot never appealed to, though I am sure I would have had a good time.

I don't have any plans to visit the new Giants/Jets stadium being opened next year either, unless some bit of serendipity comes my way and a ticket is handed to me for free. This might happen sooner than I think since the Giants still have a load of tickets to sell.

As of March 2009:

"The Giants said Thursday that they had sold more than 70,000 personal seat licenses at the 82,500-seat stadium they are building with the Jets. The remaining unsold P.S.L.’s are in the high-priced club areas, where they cost $7,500 to $20,000 each."

This is for a franchise where the wait for season tickets used to be measured in years (133,000 people), though without the Personal Seat Licenses (PSL) to make them a true financial burden. As a bit of background, one buys the right (PSL) to then purchase the tickets for an entire season, plus boring pre-season games. One can later sell this PSL if they can find someone to take it off their hands. It all sounds like a scam to me and since I have always preferred the warmth of my living room to a frozen metal chair this is no loss in my book.

I am certain the new Giants/Jets Stadium will be a magnificent place to watch a football game. Though the wretched excess of the size of the place and the incredible PSL fees will no doubt curb my enthusiasm for a visit for many years to come.

Milo Okkema

I hadn't thought about Milo Okkema for a long time when I saw the recent obituary for Paul Samuelson. You see Mr Okkema used the classic Samuelson Economics textbook for an experimental class in Economics he taught at RHS in 1974-75. My brother came home from college one time and noticed me reading this tome and he said it was the same textbook being used at the University of Pennsylvania, and no doubt hundreds of other institutions. This observation made me feel good about taking such a demanding class as a 10th grader, with mostly Juniors and Seniors as my classmates.

Mr Okkema was a great teacher, not only because he was so demanding and expected plenty from everybody. He was a great teacher because he prepared himself so well and gave us very precise and detailed study guides for his exams. He was a thrifty sort and would type on the edges of the "ditto" sheets he would provide for every class. You would easily remember these if you were blindfolded and a fresh one was waved in front of your nose.

Mr Okkema produced vast loyalty among his students, especially those who could see they were being instructed by a man whose mind was sharp as a tack. He also would illicit great scorn by those who were afraid or didn't want to be challenged intellectually. These poor souls would taunt him behind his back and were incapable of seeing how lucky there were.

As for myself, I went along for the ride and when I left at the end of the year with a "B" for my efforts I knew I had been taught economics by an expert. And as it turned out I ended up with a college degree in Economics. Though sad to say I never had as memorable professor as Milo Okkema, nor one who has inspired a page in his memory on FaceBook

Snow Days

When we were growing up Snow Days were eagerly anticipated events. Before the Internet and our current instantaneous communication we literally had to listen to the AM radio to know whether our school system had been closed.

My Mom was always the first one awake in our house so she would switch on the little radio in the kitchen to begin the arduous process of listening for the status of the Ridgewood schools. My brothers and I would eventually shamble down from our warm beds to the kitchen to join her by the radio. We would all keep very quiet for fear of missing our school in the list of schools which was continually being updated and endlessly repeated.

Once the news was announced then a small celebration would begin and our minds would be filled with the wonder of how we would fill the hours in the day which had just been given to us.

My Dad on the other hand knew exactly how our day would begin: by shoveling our walk and driveway. This had to be done, whether we had a snow day or not, by the time he was ready to walk to the train station for his commute into Manhattan. There was no use pleading to him that nobody else had done their walks by 7:15 AM and that he would have to wade through the snow in front of their houses. He would just look at us and point to the door. He was a lawyer in those days and on these matters he was the judge and jury, too.

December in the Northeast

We had a dusting of snow today with more on the way tonight and tomorrow. It gives me pause to think about snow days and sledding on the hills at Willard School. After the first run it was easy but that first ride was always an adventure, fraught with peril which delighted us no matter how cold we were feeling.

A good snow also meant snowball fights. These were usually harmless but we always participated with our parents' voices of caution in the backs of our minds. I never saw much more than a bloody nose in any of the "fights" I watched or participated in as a kid. Even the years with heavy snows which had consecutive hours of fights, and many armed camps of grade school children battling each other. The most intense were held when I was in the 4th grade and we teamed with the 6th grade against the 5th grade. The guys in the 5th grade that year (class of 1976) were a tough bunch who didn't care who they were fighting. This is not to impune the toughness of the 6th graders, only to point out that the 5th grade that year was always ready for a good snowball fight.

When we were not fighting there was always the much appreciated art of building a snow fort. These sometimes lasted for days, and were sometimes sacrificed in a dispute with a rival group, or simply demolished for fun. It all depended upon the mood at the moment and the need to get back inside to warm up.

Snow lastly meant in the 1960's, before the ubiquitous presence of snowblowers, making some money by shoveling neighbor's walks and driveways. This was easy money if the snow hadn't turned to ice, but it was hard work if the temperature dropped. The people who couldn't shovel usually didn't know the difference between ice and snow since they most likely hadn't left their homes that day. They always bargained hard, and since we usually didn't state a price before we started, the bitter cold days always worked to their advantage.

Truth be told in my younger days, making top dollar was not our ultimate goal. The goal was to complete the transaction, grab the money, and go spend it. Sorry if this sounds unsophisticated, but clearly we were and we didn't ever stop to think about it. These facts make these reminiscences all the more memorable. I will personally never look back in anger at these business mistakes, to quote Yeats, "when I am old an grey and full of sleep and nodding by the fire." I chalk it all up to experience and to a simpler time in America.

RHS Class of 1976 35th Reunion

According to the RHS Class of 1976 Facebook site:

"Due to an overwhelming demand, we are holding our 35th Year Reunion in July 2011."

Cesca and Penny

Here is a photo of two of the brightest and funniest women I knew at RHS circa 1977.

New Traditions

I visited Ridgewood yesterday with the sole intention of purchasing a Christmas tree for our apartment in Queens. Yes, I could have bought something locally but the desire to see the trees on sale at the YMCA pulled me back to Jersey.

We used to buy our trees either at the Y or at the Paramus Reformed Church. I didn't see anything on the Internet regarding a tree sale at the church so I went to the Y straight off. When I arrived it dawned on me how much expansion and change had taken place at the Y since I had last been inside over 30 years ago. While I am sure the change was for the best it was not what I was looking for or the kind of trip down memory lane of which I am fond. I was looking to recall those family trips to pick out our tree, and then hauling it back home in our station wagon. It was a right of the season and something which we all enjoyed. The new layout at the Y was lacking something I can't put my finger on, and it sent me instead to the Farm stand at the corner Ridgewood Avenue and Paramus Road. It hasn't changed much since it opened for business in 1948, and is still offering the Frasier Fir Christmas trees and wreaths I was looking to purchase.

The smell of a fresh Frasier Fir tree is something that the tree manufacturers will never be able to duplicate. It fills a room with an air that is both refreshing and comforting at the same time.

Now that I have a Ridgewood tree and wreath decorating our apartment, we will slowly start collecting ornaments and decorations. This time honored tradition dovetails nicely with our new tradition to mark the holiday season.

Thanksgiving Day 2009

Here in the northeastern United States the weather is a very nice 60 degrees, with the sun shining through the clouds. By this time of year we are usually very thankful for weather like this because we won't see much of anything similar until spring.

In years past Ridgewood High School would play Fairlawn in football on Thanksgiving morning. This year Paramus is visiting Ridgewood so I wonder who they could burn in effigy? We used to burn Freddie Fairlawn and, as the picture of the water tower suggests, go and deface something in Fairlawn. I'm sure these acts suggest some sort of school spirit but then as now it is looked down upon by those in charge of our youth's moral upbringing.

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays and one which I can clearly remember over the last 40 years or so. It probably has something to do with the food and family dynamic but fortunately for the holiday it doesn't require one to be able to cook or have ones own family present. In fact, some of my favorite memories are of times when I neither cooked or was with my own family. These moments to me demonstrate the beauty inherent in this time of year. People tend to allow for one more at their table, more than at any other time of the year. This custom speaks, as Abe Lincoln once said it, "to the better angels of our natures." To me it is just a gentle reminder of the vast potential we all have inside of us. Cheers!

Turkey Day Game 1986

From Left to right
Warren Lessing, Jim Noone, Mark Novy, Dave Rorty, Matt Fau, Hank Cannon, Tom Leyden, Bill Novy, Frank Marshall, Marc Russo, Kevin Rodgers, Andy Cahill, and Joey V.

An annual tradition since the early 1960s, these guys have played in all kinds of weather on Thanksgiving morning. I personally participated once in a monsoon and once in sub-freezing, frozen tundra conditions. While age and proximity don't permit my joining them I do marvel at their efforts to maintain friendships through the years.

If you are in the vicinity of Glen School around 9 AM this coming Thanksgiving you should drop in to say hello. There is always plenty of beer and the first one is using opened by halftime.

The Yellow Pages

This entry could be called either the Yellow Pages or the pages which have yellowed. Hard to imagine why I have saved this old copy of the Ridgewood Yellow pages but I did. These sort of things usually would have been thrown away long ago when my parents moved from Ridgewood in 1978 to an apartment in Manhattan. I suppose it made the initial trip because it contained useful information. The subsequent move they made to Hilton Head in 1984 should have spelled its doom, though again it made the trip along with everything else.

After this it should have been hurled away when my parents moved to Florida in the late 1990s but I had by this time grown accustomed to seeing it on a book shelf in my room and whisked it away back to New Jersey for safekeeping. It has since come with my back to New York City where it has a familiar spot on my book shelf.

RHS Class of 1973 Website

This class is starting to plan their 40th reunion in 2013.

RHS Class of 1973

RHS Class of 1980 30th Reunion Web Site

Here it is:

RHS Class of 1980 30th Reunion.


7 August 2010

Ramsey Golf and Country Club
Ramsey, NJ

Yankees Now and Then

I first remember rooting for the NY Yankees during the 1964 World Series which they lost in 7 games to St. Louis. For the next 12 years the Yankees were not very good, and they taught me what it means to be loyal to your favorite team.

The Yankees of my youth had Mickey Mantle in his declining years, where I saw him at Yankee Stadium hit some line drives that invariable would fall short of being home runs. It was hard to watch him struggle and do his infamous trot back to the dugout after making out. In addition to learning the meaning of loyalty I also learned something about compassion.

The final lesson I learned from rooting for the Yankees in my younger days was that not all people are endowed with the same skills and talents. If you ever saw the ragtag bunch who donned the Yankees pinstripes in the mid-1960s and early 1970s you will know what I mean. There were some diamonds in the rough like Thurman Munson and Bobby Murcer but most were very average guys like Horace Clarke, Jerry Kenney, Danny Cater, Gene Michael, to name a few. It's not that they didn't try, only that they had a tough act to follow. The teams which had preceding them had been very good for 40 years and as everybody knows that sort of dominance can't go on forever.

Now that my team has won its 27th World Championship I'll savor it for a while. I won't forget the disappointments of my youth and the hard lessons which they represent. These sort of things provide guidance and help us endure the inevitable hardships to come. Though for now I am counting the days until Spring Training, when my team will defend its crown. This choice of a favorite team was made in my youth and now seems so logical. Of course there were times when I questioned it. I can't exactly say why I stayed the course but it is days like today when I am glad I did.

RHS 1975 35th Reunion Plan

Jay McDonald posted the following to Facebook:

Talk has started regarding a 35th get together. There is a survey the committee is reviewing with a variety of questions including some alternate dates. Hopefully that survey gets sent out soon!

More updates here as they are made available. You might check here , too.

Ho-Ho-Kus Circa 1960s

These descriptions were provided by a former Ho-Ho-Kus resident who now lives in Australia. Here is the link and please do check out her site My Sydney Paris Life.

What follows is exactly how I remember it. Thanks, Carolyn.

The shops in the middle were our favourites:

* Mufson’s: Sliding-glass candy cabinets had a full range of penny candy and larger candy bars. Here we bought dot candy, Lik’M Aid, black licorice sticks, and Rob’s favourite Three Musketeers. Sometimes when my grandparents visited, my grandfather took me to Mufson’s to get a pint of Country Club vanilla ice cream. Best of all, some Wednesday nights after Dad took me and Rob out for our weekly dinner with him, he’d take us to Mufson’s afterwards. He stopped to get cigarettes for himself, but we knew he’d be good for a large candy bar and a 25-cent Little Dot or Richie Rich comic book for each of us.

* Ho-Ho-Kus Bakery: Sometimes Mom got bread here, where they asked me if we wanted it sliced thin or regular. Rob loved their jelly donuts. I requested their small rectangular 7-layer cake for my birthday every year. I often got a big chocolate chip cookie and Rob a large sugar cookie.

* Ben’s 5 & 10: The absolute, undisputed, world’s greatest 5 & 10 store on the planet, in my humble opinion. I can see every aisle in my mind, starting with my favorite, the stationery section on the left-hand side, lined with little rainbow pads and spiral notebooks. Toys were up the back, and on the right-hand side were the ‘grown-up’ aisles, with kitchen and sewing supplies. Robby and I lived on the left-hand aisle. I bought notebooks and pens and he bought squirt guns and miniature cars. I’ve been in many variety stores around the world but have never found one I liked as much as Ben’s.

Trick or Treat

In the days when I used to go trick or treating in Ridgewood, neighbors moved less often than they do now and we interacted with each other more. There existed a familiarity which our current insular brand of neighborliness does not afford us. When I finally stopped trick or treating in the 8th grade, it wasn't that I didn't like the free candy or walking around the neighborhood at night with my friends. It was more that I had come to the realization that I was just too old to be doing it. Funny thing was most all of my friends came to the same conclusion simultaneously.

Looking back on how our neighbors greeted us, and us them, it amazes me to recall how well we knew each of the houses. We had a good idea of what sort of reception we would receive and we would shout to one another in the street if someone was not home that evening. The best Halloween experiences were those like we received at the Gehrigs on Heights road. They used to invite trick or treaters into their home for hot apple cider. This stood in stark contrast to most every home we visited where the door was opened and we stayed on the front steps.

Nowadays Halloween is one of our biggest holidays in this country. The National Retail Federation published statistics to back up this assertion. They found that in the United States that 53.3% of consumers planned to buy a costume for Halloween 2005, spending $38.11 on average (up $10 from the year before). They were also expected to spend $4.96 billion in 2006, up significantly from just $3.3 billion the previous year. I remember we used to go out as hobos most of the time with our faces blackened with charcoal and our cloths old and ripped. These type of costumes didn't cost a thing and were quickly assembled immediately before going out. If we did buy something it was usually purchased at Woolworths in Ridgewood or from Ben's Five and Ten in Hohokus (pictured below).

Sincere Pumpkins

Ever October since I moved back to the northeast in the late 1990s, I have made a point of buying a "sincere pumpkin" or two to commemorate the season. At first I went to Tice's Farm in Woodcliff Lake to buy my pumpkins, where I would partake in the doughnuts and apple cider I remembered so well from growing up. Tice's neighbor, Van Ripers, closed its doors in 1994 but Tices carried on until 1999. Today the site is home to Tice's Corner Marketplace, a non-descriptive, strip mall. With Tices and Van Ripers long gone, I usually buy my pumpkins, cider, and doughnuts at Demarest Farms in Hillsdale, NJ. They do a fine job. My annual pilgrimage is made all the more special because we used to buy corn and blueberries from the Demarest roadside stand. They have since built a large market across the street from the original stand, and use it as a gathering point for the people they let pick fruit from their orchards.

What makes a pumpkin sincere? I naively believe it has much to do with the frame of mind of the person who is buying it. It also has to be locally grown and sold by a long-time farmer.

To my way of thinking it is important to imagine yourself as a child filled with the wonders of the season when you go to purchase the pumpkins. I like to first stop and dwell upon autumn's colors and unique tastes, like the apples and pumpkins which seem omnipresent, and then consciously go to choose a pumpkin. I look for a small, bright colored pumpkin with a strong stem. I don't carve them as I want them to last, and I don't possess a talent for carving. The pumpkin should be able to stand for weeks on its own in order to rate the accolade of a sincere pumpkin. This strategy has yet to fail me and it allows me to feel the authentic meaning of my ritual long into November.

Willard School 1968

This one has been hanging in Bill Nolan's office for the last 20 years and is a favorite.

Ridgewood Basement Parties 1977

Bill Nolan, Chris DuFlocq, and Paul Ferraro. I can't imagine what they might have been drinking but they certainly were having a fine time.






Jim Velordi, Dan Conti, Bill Nolan, and Tim Daly.

These guys were studs. ;-)







FYI, these are all on FaceBook. Just another reason to join as there are many more where these came from, and many more are on the way.

RHS Prom 1977

A big thank you goes out to Bill Nolan for posting this on FaceBook.







The guys from left to right with their dates:

Bill Nolan and Brenda Earl,
Tom Thurston and Jamie Rider,
Paul Ferraro and Kim Puglisi,
Mike Crockford and Tammy Porreca,
Dan Conti and Mary Beth Reagan,
Jim Velordi and Carol Murphy,
Tim Daly and Kim Dalby.

Dr. Lenihan

Last time I drove by his office it was being razed for something else. Funny how things change and more often than not a concrete memory becomes just another piece of concrete.

Dr. Thomas Lenihan had his office at 530 North Maple Avenue in Ridgewood. It was located for a while in the 1960s directly across the street from the old Maple House Ice Cream Store.

All my brothers and I visited him until our 18 birthdays and then he would turn us loose as we were no longer children. I will always remember my last visit when I was 18 and ready to go off to college. This visit was different from all the rest because it was my last, and my mother didn't give me a ride down to his office. When we were younger she had always accompanied us into the examination room. I suppose by this last visit I had grown self-conscious enough to tell her that her participation was no longer necessary.

On this last visit when we were done Dr. Lenihan looked me in the eye and shook my hand. It was very similar to another time later in my life when I shook the hand of a friend, both of us knowing full well we would never see each other again.

Dr. Lenihan wished me well in college and I then made a point of thanking him for all he had done for me while growing up.

A knowing smile overcome both of us and I walked out of his life forever.