By Anthony Olszewski
copyright 2008
For generations, the Green Street Boat Club was the center of Downtown Jersey City fishing enthusiasts. Though the club did not have title to the property, members maintained squatter rights to their docks.
Supposedly to make way for development, Mayor Gerald McCann (during his first term) evicted the Green Street Boat Club. Now part of Peninsula Park, this section of Waterfront remains unused.
- Manzo Follies
Lou Manzo ran four times for Mayor of Jersey City (so far).
The first trip on the merry-go-round was in the '92 special election held after Gerry McCann got the gong from Michael Chertoff. With the Hudson County Democratic Organization's backing, Lou appeared poised to win. But, as luck would have it, Lou's brother Allen decided to place his name on the ballot, too. Jersey City voters got the chance to view Smothers Brothersesque campaign commercials with Momma Manzo affirming that she liked Lou best. There was no brass ring for Lou.
In the 1993 regular election for Mayor of Jersey City, Lou Manzo was again the HCDO candidate. This time, brother Allen did not run. A bizarre theme of the Manzo campaign was to blame Bret Schundler for Apartheid in South Africa. Though Lou seemed to have missed it, the voters knew that Apartheid was abolished some years before the election. At least one audience walked out on him.
Losing by a two to one margin, Lou Manzo said that he felt like he'd been "hit by a refrigerator."
Manzo ran again in 2001 in a three way race with Glenn Cunningham and Tom Degise. Knocked out in the first round, Manzo backed Glenn Cunningham in the run-off. An early City Hall meeting between Lou and the newly-elected Mayor didn't turn out so well. Manzo complained that he'd been kept waiting in the reception area. As the weeks wore one, the lumps got kneaded out. Lou Manzo ran (and won) for Assembly in the 31st on the Cunningham reform ticket.
After the death of Glenn Cunningham, it was deja vu all over again with Manzo in the 2004 special election. That spectacle dwarfed anything that had been seen in Jersey City for generations. This time 'round, another brother, Ron, managed to cause trouble. Ron Manzo pleaded guilty to insider trading, involving McGreevey's Chief-of-Staff. The Cunningham supporters backed Willy Flood and called Lou Manzo a "political charlatan and backstabber." Lou Manzo wasted time and energy ousting Ron Buonocore from the race. And in yet another sideshow, a convicted sex offender accused another candidate of ordering a hit on Manzo.
Manzo managed to spend over two million dollars, plastering the town with signs -- including huge picture banners strangely reminiscent of Citizen Kane -- and filling mailboxes with gibberish printed in three colors on glossy paper. But, despite the extraneous motion spending spree, the Manzo campaign never developed a clear, coherent message. Plus, Manzo had no Get Out The Vote, the spearhead of Hudson County ground war politics (and the raison d'être of Machine politics). Manzo lost this time, too.
And that's not all.
Post-election, Eyewitness News featured Frmr. Candidate Manzo for stiffing campaign workers.
- Renowned poet W.S. Merwin grew up in Union City.
- Before dying at Chappaquiddick on July 18-19, 1969, political consultant Mary Jo Kopechne's last assignment was with the campaign to reelect Jersey City Mayor Thomas Whelan.
- Jane Van Reypen Tuers, a patriot from what is now Jersey City,
quite possibly saved the American Revolution by relaying to General Washington news of Benedict Arnold's treachery. The Tuers home was on Bergen Avenue, just north of McGinley Square, where Hudson Catholic high school now stands.
- In April of 1981, a grand jury indicted Union City Mayor and State Senator William Musto on 36 counts of racketeering, extortion and fraud. He was convicted on March 26, 1982. On May 10, 1982, Musto was sentenced to seven years in prison.
During the trial, Musto campaigned for the the City Commission of Union City. Popularity unspoiled by the legal turmoil, he won reelection on May 11, 1982 -- defeating one-time ally (and now US Senator), Bob Menendez. After the courts removed Bill from office, the Musto name retained its magic in the voting booth. William Musto's wife, Rhyta, won the subsequent special election.
- This is from a thirty year old campaign flyer:
"Jordan-Macchi administration, in desperation, was ready to sell out our priceless waterfront for dangerous chemical-oil tank farms, until they were beaten by an outraged public."
- In the '20s, one of the country's largest manufacturers of ukuleles was the Oscar Schmidt company, located in Jersey City on Ferry Street.
- Here's what Frmr. Governor Kean
had to say about Hudson County's own Dave Friedland: "He was one of the most brilliant people I ever worked with. He just was a bit crooked."
Many researchers believe that Severin Antoniovich Klosowski (AKA George Chapman) was Jack the Ripper. The five confirmed Ripper murders took place in 1888. Scotland Yard investigated similar London crimes in 1889 and early 1891.
In 1891, Klosowski emigrated to the United States, moving to Jersey City where he operated a barber shop. Here his wife, Lucy Baderski, claimed that Severin assaulted her. He "held her down on the bed, and pressed his face against her mouth to keep her from screaming. At that moment a customer entered the shop immediately in front of the room, and Klosowski got up to attend him. Lucy chanced to see a handle protruding from underneath the pillow. She found to her horror that it was a sharp and formidable knife, which she promptly hid. Later, Klosowski deliberately told her that he meant to have cut her head off, and pointed to a place in the room where he meant to have buried her."
On April 24, 1891, Carrie Brown, a New York City prostitute was found dead in a waterfront hotel. The New York Times headline called it "A MURDER LIKE ONE OF JACK THE RIPPER'S DEEDS." The Times article reported that a New York City Detective had ". . . said that it would be impossible for crimes such as Jack the Ripper committed in London to occur in New York and the murderer not be found."
Back in the 1940s, when my father was young, he and some friends spent a Summer weekend down the Shore. They'd started the return trip just after the boardwalk bars had closed for the night. In an attempt to get back to Jersey City in time for work on Monday morning, they took a "short cut" through the then country roads. Between the lack of lights and signs and the travelers' inebriated condition, they soon were very lost. And then their worst fear materialized; behind them were the flashing lights and siren of a State Trooper's car.
The State Trooper ordered the Jersey City guys to get out of the car. All were still so drunk that they had trouble walking. After scrutinizing the license of the driver, the Trooper demanded identification from the rest, too. Then the Officer called in on the radio.
My father and his friends had heard stories of what happened when you got locked up in the more rural areas of New Jersey. They feared that they were going to be put in chains and forced to work on some cranberry farm. This seemed certain when three more State Trooper cars arrived. A sergeant got out of one of the vehicles, taking command.
"Let me see those IDs."
Glancing at the paperwork with the help of a flashlight, "HAGUESVILLE! Do you know how much trouble we're all in for if we arrest them? Let them go and GET OUT OF HERE!"
The State Trooper quickly gave the youths back their identification. Then all the Troopers jumped in their cars and sped off.
My father couldn't believe it, but it was true. Because of Frank Hague, on some road in the middle of nowhere, New Jersey State Troopers feared a car full of drunken nobodies from Jersey City.
If you're told that someone is "on the Erie" or "riding the Erie," it means that they are in a public place listening in on the conversations of others.
The parents of Lech Walesa -- head of the Solidarity union, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, and President of the Republic of Poland -- lived in Jersey City. His father worked at the Henderson Lumber Mills. This local lumber yard displays many photos of Lech Walesa's visit to Jersey City. In 1981, when the Polish puppet government outlawed Solidarity, union figures found sanctuary in Jersey City.
Hudson County, alas, is peculiarly lacking in mineral resources. Scratch, mine, dig, drill or blast as much as you like, you’ll never find even a teaspoon of oil, a single diamond chip, or even a flake of precious metal. But facts and reality only fence in minds of modest mechanism, not the likes of J. V. Kenny, Hudson County’s political boss from 1949 to 1971. Observing that Hudson County was surrounded and veined by swamps, Kenny set to work turning all that mud into gold.
This task was too great even for the powerful J. V. K. to accomplish alone. C. Harry Callari, a Jersey City Ward leader in the early 1960s, served as apprentice to the master. As luck would have it, Callari’s original calling as a manufacturer of women’s clothing was no longer profitable; a new career suited him just fine. Through the sponsorship of John V. Kenny, C. Harry Callari assumed responsibility for the public’s health by becoming executive director of the Hudson County Mosquito Commission – one of Kenny’s many fiefdoms. The deal was that Callari was to be on the lookout for any and all possible income inducing opportunities. Fifty percent of the take reverted to his lord, Boss Kenny.
More Hudson County Facts
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