Clifton Merchant Magazine - August 2011

Lakeview MemoriesJack De Vries

Back to WoodstockCarol Leonard

Being UkrainianTom Hawryko

REMEMBERING

CAMP CLIFTON

Misfit Mutts • One More Once • Other Music News

629 Clifton Ave • Clifton

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Clifton Merchant Magazine is published the first Friday of every month at 1288 Main Ave., Downtown Clifton • 973-253-4400

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August�is�a�perfect�time�to�sit�back�and�relax�so

we’ve�put�together�a�team�of�writers�who�have

provided� some� easy� reading� and� many� fun

photos�that�we�expect�you’ll�enjoy.

Our�cover�story�on�Camp�Clifton�is�a�team�effort,�with

three�former�campers—Julie�Dominick,�Joe�Crivelli�and

Colleen�Kennedy—who�collected�memories�and�recol-

lections� of� the� now� defunct� green� retreat� in� Jefferson

Township.� � Their� stories� spans� some� three� decades� of

tales—but�the�photos�alone�will�take�you�back.��

Veteran�columnist�Jack�De�Vries�presents�an�excerpt

from�a�book�he�is�working�on�about�life�at�the�midpoint

of�his�journey,�age�50.�His�tale�begins�on�Trenton�Ave.�in

the�Lakeview�section�during�the�Kennedy�years.��

Adeline�De�Vries�(jack’s�mom!)�shares�recollections

about�her� love�of�America’s�pastime,�baseball,� and� the

early�days�of�TV�and�how�it�was�introduced�to�Clifton.

We� have� another� story� from� Christopher� deVinck’s

book�Moments of Grace: Days of a Faith Filled Dreamer.While�his�essay�begins�on�page�20,�look�for�more�about

Chris�and�how�to�purchase�his�13th�book�on�page�72.��

It’s�road�trip�time�as�Carol�Leonard�takes�you�upstate

to�Woodstock�as�she�tracked�down�a�group�of�Mustangs

who�made�that�trip�to�the�concert�in�August,�1969.��

Joseph�Hawrylko�has�pulled�together�a�section�of�sto-

ries� on� local�musicians,� telling� about� their� origins� and

plans�for�growing�a�fan�base.�

And� to� mark� the� 20th� anniversary� of� Ukraine’s

Independence�on�August�24,�I�have�taken�the�liberty�of

writing�an�essay�on�my�church�community.� �While� the

story�is�focused�on�one�culture,�I�hope�readers�will�find

it� reflective�of� their�own�American�experience�and� the

pride�they�have�in�their�unique�origins.

Tom Hawrylko

F R O M t h e E D I T O R

16,000 Magazines

are distributed tohundreds of Clifton

Merchants on the firstFriday of every month.

Subscribe Page 69

$27 per year $45 for 2 years

Call 973-253-4400

Editor & PublisherTom Hawrylko

Business ManagerCheryl Hawrylko

Graphic DesignerMichael Strong

Staff WriterJoe Hawrylko

Contributing WritersIrene Jarosewich, CarolLeonard, Rich DeLotto,Don Lotz, Jack DeVries© 2011 Tomahawk Promotions

1288 Main AvenueDowntown Clifton, NJ 07011

Summer Reader

On Our CoverA 1970 circa photo from Camp Clifton serves as the back-drop. On the right of the page, from the top... yes that boldKathy DeLuca seems to be smoking a cigarette! Center, threeyoung campers from the mid-1970s. Bottom, they look likeClifton’s Bowery Boys and they are, from left, Bob DaGiau,Don Grillo, Casey Lasiek and Jeff Spina.


Correction: On�page�25�of�our�Julyedition,�the�headline�for�the�Class�of

1961�intro�reads�‘Last�Class�in�‘Old’

School’.� � Josephine� Kimberley

wrote� to� let� us� know� the� Class� of

1962�was�actually�the�last�group�of

students� to�graduate�high�school�at

what�is�now�Christopher�Columbus

Middle�School�on�Piaget�Ave.

I want to say thank you for thatwonderful piece you�wrote� aboutme�in�the�July�edition.��It�is�so�nice

to� be� remembered� after� all� the

years.� � My� friends� and� neighbors

have�all�called�me�to�say�congratu-

lations—perhaps� because� I� have

lived�so�long!�So�again,�thank�you

and� please� know� that� I� appreciate

your� kind� attention.� � � Good� luck

and�God�bless!��

Jo Ann MoriciCHS 1941

My wife, Helen, and I, read�withinterest� your� July� issue� and� it

brought� back� fond� memories� of

Clifton�High� School.� � I� graduated

on�June�1941�and�soon�after�enlist-

ed�with�the�Navy,�ultimately�served

in� the� Pacific� aboard� the� USS

Cimarron,� AO22,� earning� seven

Battle� Stars� before� being� dis-

charged� in�April� 1946.� �While� on

leave� from� the� service� in� 1944,� I

married� my� girlfriend,� CHS� ‘42

graduate� Helen� Zachack.� � It� was

really�great� to� see�JoAnn�Morici’s

story� and� her� recollections� of

Clifton� High.� � I’m� sure� JoAnn

would� remember� both� Helen� and

I—both�Helen�(86)�and�myself�(87)

remember�her�fondly.��Jo�Ann�was

the�live�wire�of�the�1941�June�Class

and� judging� by� her� story,� she� still

has�that�strength.

Kenneth A. DeGhetto, PH.DLivingston, NJ

ne 011

net

Gary Smith, CHS 1971.

Write to us atClifton Merchant Magazine

1288 Main Ave. Clifton [email protected]


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Great job, I’m flabbergasted. Allof� these�classmates,� they�suddenly

became� lifelike� and� that� edition

brought� back� many� happy�memo-

ries.� I�was� amazed� to� see�my�pic-

ture�in�there�with�a�nice�write�up.��I

really� appreciate� it� a� lot� and� just

wanted� to�say� thank�you.� I�admire

how�you�got� so�much� information

and� photographs,� not� only� on� my

class�but�all�the�others.��

Leroy� Constatine� was� my� best

friend�and�while�he�died�young�he

had� an� illustrious� life.� � Joan

Kuzmich�was�a�beautiful�girl�in�the

most� strict� sense� of� the�word,� and

she� became� Miss� NYC.� � Judge

Ciolino�was�our�class�president�and

went�on�to�an�illustrious�career.�

And� Joe� Padula,� does� he� still

hang� around� City� Hall?� He� was

lively�when� he�was� a� kid� too.� � � I

could� almost� taste� the� Hot� Grill

from�that�photo.��

So�many�good�memories.��Golly,

everything�just�came�alive.��People

walked�right�off�the�page.�

One�correction:�I�grew�up�in�the

Delawanna� section� not� Botany.

One�of�my� team�mates� from� there

was�Joe�Trombino�who�was�killed

in�the�World�Trade�Center�in�9/11.��

Father Anthony RussoCHS 1951

I was excited to see myself fea-tured in�your�July�publication.��I�ampresently�and�for�the�last�decade�the

Senior� Director� of� Recruiting� at

Jennifer�Temps,�a�staffing�agency�in

New�York� City.� � I� live� in� Passaic,

and� I� am� active� in�my� parish,�Mt.

Pilgrim� Baptist� Church,� and� also

volunteer� at� Madonna� Funeral

Home� in� Passaic,� comforting� the

bereaved.�

Gary SmithCHS 1971

I loved your look back at the class-es from�CHS�in� the�July�edition.� � I

lived� upstair� from� actor� Stefan

Kalinka� �(CHS�1981)� on� Campbell

Ave.� and� I� always� told� him� to� go

California.� � And� I� went� to� school

with� Joe� Padula.� My� husband� was

Whitey� Milmark,� he� was� the� best

fast�ball�softball�pitcher�in�the�men’s

league.� �Years�later,� in�the�1980’s,�I

volunteered�as�a� team�mom�for� the

Fighting�Mustangs,�even�though�we

had� no� children.� � We� were� in� the

Booster�Club,�made�them�lunch�and

helped� out.� Then� to� my� surprise,� I

received�a� trophy�from�the� team.� � I

used�to�go�to�every�game�with�a�little

megaphone� I� had� from� my� high

school�years.��Even�though�we�didn’t

have�kids,�I�loved�Mustang�football.

Jean Mirabella MilmarkCHS 1948

That was an excellent article onCHS ‘71 graduate Cindy Czesak.She� is� now� the� Director� of� the

Paterson�Public�Library,�where�I�am

the�Library�Board� President.� I�was

one� that� stole�her� from�Clifton�and

I’m�so�glad�we�did!��She’s�doing�an

excellent�job�and�has�accomplished

so�much.��Thanks�again�Clifton�for

raising�such�a�good�person.�

Florence BottlerPaterson

Where are theseMUSTANGS��

��

��

��

��

��

PLUS A LOOK BACK AT 1941!

The July 2011 Clifton Merchant.

L E T T E R S t o t h e E D I T O R

� � ��

� � � �


Apply Today for Fall Classes:www.pccc.edu/applytoday

Classes Start September 1.


May’s magazine connected twoold Marines, irrespective�of�the�factthat�one�died�on�a�Viet�Nam�battle-

field�in�1968.

“George� McClelland� was� my

best� friend� growing� up� in� Hell’s

Kitchen.� � We� managed� to� avoid

most� of� the� trouble� and� joined� the

Marines� together,”� recalled� Gary

Besmer,�who�is�now�70�and�a�retired

NYC�Police�Officer.�

“Georgie� wanted� to� go� to� the

Navy.��I�got�him�to�go�with�me�to�the

Marine�recruiter�and�they�promised

we’d� be� together� through� the� serv-

ice.� � We� were� young� and� dumb

enough�to�believe�that�BS.”

The� two�made� it� through� Parris

Island� boot� camp� together� but� in

1960�shipped�out�in�different�direc-

tions.� � It�was� the� last� time� the� two

boys�would�see�each�other.

Around� that� time,� their� families

moved� to� the� suburbs.� The

McClelland� clan� settled� first� in

Passaic�and�then�purchased�a�home

on� Second� St.� in� Clifton.� “I� often

wondered� what� hap-

pened�to�Georgie�but�it

was� hard� back� then� to

track� down� people,”

said�Besmer.��

On� Feb.� 25,� 1968,

McClelland,� a� Staff

Sergent� with� the� 26th

Infantry�Regiment,�was

among� two� squads

ordered� to� go� out� on

patrol� beyond� the� fire

base�to�search�for�enemy�mortar.

The� patrol� ran� into� an� ambush,

taking� on� intense� small� arms� and

mortar�fire.��A�second�patrol�sent�to

help� also� came� under� a� barrage� of

fire.� �When� the� shooting�was�over,

there�were�47�casualties:�21�wound-

ed� and� 25� missing� in� action.

Clifton’s� George� McClelland� was

listed�as�among�the�25�MIAs.��

McClelland's�body�wasn’t�recov-

ered� until� May� 8,� 1968,� at� which

time� he� was� officially� listed� as

Killed�In�Action.

Around�the�year�2000,

Besmer� made� a� bucket

list� and� in� it�was� his� old

pal,�pictured�here.

“George� came� out� of

the� Marines� but� couldn't

find�a�job�and�went�back

in� and� became� a� drill

instructor,"� explained

Besmer,� who� also� con-

nected�with�McClelland’s

son.�“I�also�met�with�his�sister�who

lives�in�Toms�River�and�she�gave�me

the�article�from�your�magazine.”

Former� Cliftonite� George

McClelland� is� buried� in� a�Paterson

cemetery.�“I�told�his�son�I�was�going

to�pay�my�respects�to�his�dad...”

No� doubt� he� will,� but� USMC

Staff�Sergent�McClelland�also�lives

on�in�monuments�in�Passaic,�Clifton

and�in�his�old�buddy’s�heart.

L E T T E R S t o t h e E D I T O R

In Super Dave’s Memory...

The Porter Clan

On August 25, 2006 our son David Nicholas Porter lostthe 14 month battle to Wilms’ Tumor. David may have lostthe battle, but his warm smile, energetic personality and hiswill to live will last forever. Since then, The David Nicholas Foundation was creat-

ed to help support the children and their families that arefighting the battle against cancer.

This year’s 5th Annual David’s Day was on July 9 and wewanted to say thanks for opening your hearts and your kindgenerosity. Funds raised go to support Daniel, a 7 year oldboy, who lives in Denville. To find out more or to make a donation, go to www.the-

davidnicholasfoundation.org.Once again, thank you.


T his is how I drove my

mother crazy. In 1961 at

the age of four, I decided

I didn’t belong in Clifton, my

beloved hometown, but rather on

the Broken Wheel Ranch out West.

I discovered this through the magic

of the black and white Zenith TV in

our living room where each week

I’d watch another episode of Fury,

a show about a magnificent black

stallion.

Fury was owned by a heroic

cowboy named Jim and his son,

Joey Newton. If there was a mom,

I don’t remember her, which was

fine with me. Joey and his dad had

ranching to do and didn’t need a

mom telling them to pick up stuff

or wash up.

I was obsessed with Fury, Jim

and, most of all, Joey. What a life

– about a million times better than

mine in dumb old Clifton.

I dreamed of going to live on the

Broken Wheel and riding Fury, but

I knew there was no chance of that

happening. The farthest my family

ever went was the Bergen Mall in

Paramus, Two Guys in Totowa or

Downtown Paterson. Since these

hot spots were all within 10 miles,

it was obvious I’d never ride a

bustin’ bronco in Big Sky Country.

So… if I couldn’t join Joey, I’d

move him to Clifton and become

Joey.

I concocted this wild fantasy

about Joey coming to visit his rela-

This is a chapter from an upcoming memoir by Jack De Vries, which describes his life in Clifton as

a young boy. De Vries lived at 204 Trenton Ave. in theLakeview section of town, a place never far from

his thoughts. The book also examines DeVries’ lifelonglove of sports, fatherhood and other topics at the

halftime point of life, age 50.

GROWING UP IN

CLIFTONBy Jack De Vries

Summer Reading


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tives back East in the too noisy, too

busy city of Clifton. When Joey

arrived, I assumed his identity and

became him. Of course, my father

became Joey’s dad, Jim.

In the days before 24-hour cable

TV news and the Internet, when

parents were blissfully unaware of

roaming armies of child predators,

kids played outside. Today, parents

(me included) will not let their chil-

dren past the front door without a

surgically implanted tracking

device and CIA drone to watch

over them. But in the sixties, kids

had graduated boundaries.

At age three, I was confined to

the backyard. Age four, I had the

run of the block in front of my

house – the wild plains of macadam

along Trenton Ave. between East

2nd and East 3rd Streets. By age

five, I was man enough to roam the

entire block – past the squirrel-

hunting frenzy taking place at the

neighboring Stickleburgers’ house,

moving by the crazy Italian lady’s

home on the back end of the block,

and a quick step from the Stewart’s

house and their yappy dog Tippy.

Later, I learned the Stewarts

weren’t fond of parishioners of St.

Brendan’s and loved how Tippy

scared the heck out of the little

Catholic kid with the blonde crew-

cut. Joey Newton had bears and

Indians; I had a crazy black and

white mutt who’d often get loose.

Joey hit town on a beautiful

April day, wearing his cowboy hat

and boots that were bought, as I

imagined, at the general store (but

really purchased at Two Guys). On

my hip were six-shooters, a pair of

silver beauties with no orange cap

at the ends to let cops know they

were fakes. They were tucked into

my gleaming black Lone Ranger

holsters that I’d gotten for

Christmas.

A cowpoke like me was soon

bored in these here surroundings.

With nothing to do, I headed to the

front of the Breures’ house, our

next door neighbors, and sat

My next-door neighbor Ted Breure in his prime, wrestling as The Golden Boy.


on the small boulder along the side-

walk. I imagined it was lifted there

by Mr. Breure, the pro wrestler who

lived next door.

While my alter ego of Joey was

imagined, Ted Breure was not. He

wrestled under the name the

“Golden Boy” (for his blond hair

that covered his body and created a

yellow carpet on his chest). He

spent April through September sun-

ning himself in his backyard and

downing six-packs of Miller High

Life. A lion in winter, he didn’t

wrestle much then but owned a bar

in Passaic called, of course, the

Golden Boy.

Every year, Mr. Breure would

treat the neighbors to an annual

stink-off as he’d lavish his tomato

plants with manure. For a week,

Trenton Ave. would smell like

horse dung with everyone’s win-

dows shut to keep out the stink. No

one ever complained. Even with

the stink wafting around him, Mr.

Breure would lay in his chaise

lounge, blissfully downing bottles

of Miller and reading the newspa-

per.

My father would grumble, but

that was about it. He’d also grum-

ble when Mr. Breure’s son Ted Jr.,

who was bigger than his father,

would drop barbells in his base-

ment late at night and scare the hell

out of my parents.

The Breure’s boulder was an

ideal seat for Joey to observe the

big city… which I was doing when

“the lady” happened by.

She was dressed in a long coat

and hat, and wore gloves. She was

probably headed to Crooks Ave. to

visit Sidney the druggist on the cor-

ner who always shook like he was

saying “no” when you talked to

him. Sidney later pumped two bul-

lets into a would-be robber so I

guess his hands didn’t shake.

Being a respectful country boy, I

said howdy as she walked by. The

lady stopped, smiled, and said,

looking up at the Golden Boy’s

house, “Hello, little boy. Do you

live here?”

“Nope, ma’am,” I said channel-

ing Joey and saying ma’am just like

he did. “I live in Montana.”

“Montana?” she asked, raising a

plucked eyebrow. “That’s a long

way from here.”

“That’s right, ma’am,” I said

unleashing my inner Joey. “I’m

visitin’ my relatives back East.

They live in that house over there.”

I pointed to my house next to the

Breure’s – a coffee-colored fake

brick colonial with number 204 on

the front. Inside, my mother’s psy-

chic radar went off and she began

moving from the kitchen to the

front porch. “That’s nice,” the lady

answered, not sure whether to

believe me.

“Name’s Joey Newton, ma’am,”

I said with full TV drawl. “And I

live on the Broken Wheel Ranch

with my dad, Jim. And I’m going

back there real soon cause there’s a

lot of work to do with the horses.”

“Is that so?” she said, her

plucked eyebrows at full arch.

“Yes’sim,” I said, believing it

myself.

Seeing the strange lady talking

with me, my mom came out on the

front steps to see what her little

Clifton cowpoke was up to. Spying

my mother, the lady hurried over to

tell her everything I said. As I fixed

a pair of steely green eyes over the

pastoral plains of Trenton Ave.,

ending with the fence that kept peo-

ple driving onto the Garden State

Parkway, I heard my mom saying,

“He did?” and “He said what?”

before beginning to giggle.

Joey Newton had far more

important things to do than listen to

womenfolk chattering. I had to

keep my eyes on the horizon for

stray coyotes that might be sneak-

ing up to get the chickens.

Here’s my dad, Jack Sr., in 1966, wearing the Clark Kent glasses and workingon the “133,” a massive testing machine used by his company Bendix and theU.S. Military to keep us safe from the Soviets.


There was one time when my

Joey adventures nearly gave my

grandmother a heart attack. I was

downstairs watching cartoons one

Saturday morning when the phone

rang. My parents were upstairs

sleeping in.

“Hello, this Joey Newton,” I

answered.

My grandmother, who had five

other small grandchildren at the

time, didn’t pay any attention to my

introduction. My phone voice

probably sounded like one of the

cartoon Chipmunks, and Grammy

was in no mood for games.

“Jackie,” Grammy said, “put

your mother on the phone.”

“Can’t,” I answered. “She’s

upstairs in bed with Jim.”

Grammy probably dropped the

phone and the other three old ladies

listening in knew they’d struck gos-

sip gold. This was in the era of the

“party line,” when homes shared

one phone line with three other cus-

tomers. My mother was forever

complaining about the line being

tied up or one of the old biddies

eavesdropping.

After that call, I got a lecture

about being honest and respectful

on the phone. It didn’t matter too

much to me – Joey was about to

leave my life for good as I was

assuming a new persona: the “Man

of Steel.” I spent the next few

years as Superman, protecting my

block from criminals with a white

dishtowel cape flowing over my

shoulders and back.

Unlike the kids from the fifties,

my knowledge of the Man of Steel

came not from comic books but

from the TV show, Superman, star-

ring the tragic George Reeves.

This made Superman more real –

something nearly every adult told

me he wasn’t.

An urban legend said that a kid,

believing he had Superman’s pow-

ers, jumped out a window and flew

to his death. There was also a story

that Reeves met his untimely end

not by a gunshot, but because he

went crackers, believing he really

was Superman and going for the

big air dive.

1232

Benjamin Moore Paints and much more...

Able Hardware745 Van Houten Ave.

973.773.4997Mon.-Fri. till 7pm

Sat. till 5pm


Conversations often went like this:

Adult: “Who are you?

Me: “Superman.”

Adult: “You know he’s not real, don’t ya? Don’t

jump out any windows.”

Me: “I won’t (secretly hoping Superman was real

and hadn’t shown up yet).

Making it more possible that Superman could be real

was that my father bore an uncanny resemblance to

Clark Kent, complete with thick black glasses and

Brylcreem-shining hair. Not that I ever confused the

old man for Superman – that was a stretch for even my

fertile imagination. But it proved superheroes looked

just like regular people. Who was anybody to say

Superman wasn’t waiting for the right time to show up?

It wouldn’t have been the first time a larger than life

personality had come to my hometown. JFK stopped

there while campaigning for president. Yogi Berra and

Phil Rizzuto of the New York Yankees owned a bowl-

ing ally in Clifton. And Babe Ruth was known to tip a

few at Donohue’s, a gin mill near the Clifton border in

Garfield.

My family lived in the Lakeview section, an older

area of Clifton that was a sea of asphalt, filled with

homes, candy stores and dotted with backyards. Our

home, built around 1910, featured a fake brick exterior,

an old blonde woman who haunted the upstairs (and

once scared the pee out of me by asking if I was hun-

gry), and an attic where we could see the Fourth of July

fireworks show at Clifton School Stadium above the

maple trees.

The house, as my dad often reminded us, was held

together with “spit and plasterboard.”

Behind the house was our postage-size backyard

where we crammed a cheap above-ground pool, swing

set, garden (far smaller than the Golden Boy’s), a tool

shed and a “torture area” – a diagonal plot of grass

where my little brother Billy and I threw grounders at

each other at light speed.

Living on the opposite side of our house was the

Harris family – an elderly mother, daughter Millie, and

her brother Wilbur, who belonged on a farm. Wilbur

doted in his small brown dog named Sandy that he

adopted from the Hounds of Hell Kennels. Sandy was

a mean little bitch, a vicious walking piranha.

18141814

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View The Giblin Report Thursday at 9 pm, Channel 76

A backyard birthday party in 1965, fresh out of the poolFrom left is my brother Bill, Tom Carrola, my momAdeline, Don Miller, me and Paul Nydam; my brotherChris stands in the center.


Next to them were the Stickelburgers, a retired fire

chief, his wife and their adult son, a bachelor who “did-

n’t want to share his money,” as his mother whispered.

Father and son’s weekends centered on the Yankees on

the radio, Rheingold beer, and BB guns to pick off the

squirrels they said were always about to invade our

attics. Each of them, both named Adolph, owned

showroom-looking Ford Mustangs.

Tragically, the family died together – the parents

after wrecking their ’65 white Mustang while racing to

the hospital following an ambulance carrying young

Adolph, who suffered a fatal heart attack.

Across the street was old Mr. Bailey, another intrep-

id squirrel hunter; the Vogts, who owned a pristine black

1940s-era gangster car; the three unmarried Farrell sis-

ters; and John and Betty, a happy 50-ish couple who

were living in sin, a fact kept from me by my ever-vig-

ilant, Mass-going mother. That left me as the only kid

around until my brother Billy arrived when I was four.

In the sixties, Clifton was a city coming into its own

– complete with a new high school, low taxes, plenty of

businesses, and more unsolved murders than Dodge

City. Crisscrossed by highways and the Passaic River,

it was an ideal spot to dump bodies.

The Clifton of my youth was a magical place, full of

sidewalks pushed up by mature tree roots, summer

nights of lightening bugs and deafening crickets, and a

feeling that even better times were ahead. Kennedy

said we were going to the moon. John’s candy store

was only a block away. And a kid like me could sit on

his front steps and wait for Joe the super market man-

ager to ride past in a long white convertible with a

blond next to him.

Without a scrap of lust in my young heart, I knew

back then Joe was a man to admire.

In my world, there were baseball cards on the back

of cereal boxes, creamed corn for dinner and comic

books (on special occasions) for sale at the candy store

(with real bookmakers in the back), just four blocks

away. There was also Sinatra on my mom’s kitchen

radio and at least four different girls I could see myself

marrying someday.

Finally, there was my father in the next room doing

his homework at night and keeping the old lady ghost

away. He’d struggle with engineering problems from

his night school classes at Fairleigh Dickinson, looking

to ultimately get his degree and lift his family out of

this old house, the one I loved so much. I’d lay there in

my bed, safe and secure, with my whole life before me.

It was home.

In our backyard, after First Holy Communion, 1965, in St.Brendan’s Church. That’s mom, dad and me.


Summer Reading

T his past September, at

the Ukrainian church’s

picnic, a tough friend of

mine, we call him ‘Big Daddy’,

was talking about his then 15 year

old son.

“He went upstate this summer

and didn’t want to come home,"

Roman Diduch said of his fourth

child, his only boy.

The two are pictured at right.

Little Roman was up in the

Catskills at a Ukrainian sports and

culture camp. “Five weeks up in

CYM. He grew man... stretched

out. He has girlfriends now! And

then I look at his neck. He’s got a

silver chain with a big Tryzub

hanging there! He came back a real

Ukie. His grandfather must be

smiling,” Big Daddy said.

He was so proud of little Roman

who now wears the Trident coat of

arms from Ukraine.

Three generations of pride and

heritage and community explained

in a short statement: “A real Ukie.”

Like many others in our city, I

am proud of where I come from, of

my heritage and my religion.

I love that when I go to

Ukrainian Church I bless myself

three times and chant prayers that

my ancestors did decades ago,

perhaps hundreds of years earlier.

I laugh that when I eat solena at

a picnic in my hometown of Perth

Amboy or at the church in Passaic,

or in the center of Kyiv like I did

during the Orange Revolution back

in 2004, it is the same delicacy

other Kozaks like me washed down

with vodka generations before.

My heritage, which intertwines

with my religion, is a great

emotional well at my soul, a deep

and familiar place to be. And that

people like me and “Big Daddy”

can share this with other Ukies from

all across the globe—that they

know the same prayers and rituals

and eat the same foods, and share so

many connections—that is a gift.

While I did not meet my

grandfather John and do not much

recall my dad Joe, when I go to

most any Ukrainian church, and

when I am around my hromada—

my community—I see “Dido” and

“Tato.” I connect with them and

“Babcia” and “Mama,” and all my

aunts and uncles, because we come

from the same “tribe.”

ON BEING PROUD OF OUR

HERITAGEBy Tom Hawrylko


I simply look around the church

or on the picnic grounds and see

my family in my new neighbors.

There is my Babcia in the lined and

etched visage of the old ladies,

reciting the Hail Mary as part of the

Rosary in a quiet but boldly painted

church.

I see my mama Julie sitting on

her bed, looking out the Ashley St.

window, reading from her prayer

book. That’s my brother John—

”Yonko”—walking to the school

stage so proudly in his embroidered

shirt, ready to dance the Hopak.

And there is my beautiful sister

Elaine, perhaps 16, at the center of

the May crowning of our beloved

Blessed Virgin Mary, looking

angelic, even sacred.

These days, I am a church elder,

alone and above in the choir, where

often I am a Diak, a cantor, who

leads the responses to the priest

during Divine Liturgy.

From the loft, I sing and watch

new generations of my brothers and

sisters, toting along their families,

wearing their Sunday best as they

walk in and modestly kneel before

the icon of Volodymyr, petitioning

he and our saints, and asking the

Blessed Virgin for protection or

forgiveness.

I hear them shssing their young

as they enter the pews, innately

teaching them the rules of being

Ukrainian Catholic, just as their

parents did in Ykraina and my

parents did during my youth in our

Perth Amboy “ghetto”.

I love the fact that little Sister

Yosephata taught me for eight years

at the Ukrainian Assumption School

and decades later she instructed my

kids in preparing for their first Holy

Communion—and that just this past

Sunday I saw her and we greeted

each other as peers.


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While I can sing in Ukrainian I do not speak the

language but I love the fact that while at times we

cannot understand one another, there is this unspoken

nod of trust between me and many of my new brethren

who do not speak English so well.

Newcomers like Ihor, Myron and Jaroslaw, as well

as guys like Yonko, Big Daddy and me begin with a

certain amount of trust just because we are Ukies.

Perhaps that's because we have drunk from the same

well and we are pilgrims on a shared journey. To me,

being Ukrainian makes the world a smaller and

friendlier place. It gives me knowledge of where I

come from. It is a place where I am always welcomed

to return to, and it is a community where I still discover

new things. And to have a place where you belong is a

good and comfortable feeling.

That’s Tom Hawrylko, third from the right rear, at an Altar Boy retreat back in 1969.


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Summer Reading

Does anyone remember the

way things used to be:

when the artist Norman

Rockwell sketched boys rushing off

to fish; when you could pick up

hitchhikers; when gas-station atten-

dants wore white shirts and ties and

gave away glasses with each full

tank of gas?

Remember how we could go off

to the woods, swimming hole, or

train tracks, and pretend that we

were Daniel Boone, Olympic stars,

or hoboes, and rush home in the late

afternoon for a glass of Kool-Aid?

Remember when the Cracker Jack

box had great prizes: alligator click-

ers, charms, jumping tin frogs?

There was once a thing called the

Good Humor truck. Every child

born before 1960 remembers the

sound the door made closing after

the ice-cream man reached in and

pulled out a chocolate eclair or a

Fudgsicle.

It is easy to dismiss our “modern”

world and roll ourselves in a securi-

ty blanket of nostalgia, pointing to

better times when people were more

polite and less afraid.

Don’t believe everything you

read in the newspaper or see on tel-

evision. The accumulation of evi-

dence about the state of the world is

not neatly packaged and printed on

paper, or projected on flat screens

that illuminate our faces and lull us

into a near-hypnotic trance of delu-

sion and disgust. Goodness is not

news. Compassion is not news.

The triumph of our daily routines

accrues no hero’s welcome.

KINDNESS & COURTESY

ON THEROAD

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Providingquality care

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I was reminded of the grace of goodness that most of

us have within ourselves while driving home with my

mother and Roe from our annual two-week vacation in

Canada. (My father didn’t come with us that year.)

Just before mile marker 175 on Route 81 south, just

twenty miles from Watertown, New York, my car devel-

oped engine trouble. The alternator light popped on.

The check-engine light blinked frantically. The temper-

ature gauge swung to the right, smack into the heart of

the “hot” indicator. There was a gross, mechanical noise

whining and clanking under the hood.

I quickly pulled into a U-turn road built for police and

maintenance crews, pushed the gearshift into park, shut

off the engine, opened the hood, and felt like Dorothy in

the Wizard of Oz stuck in the middle of a poppy field

ready to call out for help. Glinda the Good Witch didn’t

appear, but within four minutes, a New York state troop-

er pulled off the northbound lane of the highway, drove

down the small U-turn road and stopped before us. I

wanted to shout hooray! It was as though Roy Rogers or

Zorro had come to my rescue.

He was a young man: dark hair, crew cut, sunglasses,

smart uniform. He stepped out of his cruiser and, with

great politeness and concern, asked if we were okay. I

explained that my wife was on the cell phone with AAA,

and that my mother was in the car doing fine.

The policeman was concerned about my mother and

spoke with AAA himself, and once he was assured that

the tow truck was coming, he said “I’ll swing by again in

a few minutes just to make sure that you are okay and on

your way.” It was obvious that this man had a human

interest in us and that he was not just “doing a job.” He

drove away and waved. I waved too.

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Before the tow truck arrived, a

park ranger stopped, asking if we

needed help; a Good Samaritan in a

van also stopped and asked if we

needed a ride; and then the tow

truck and its driver appeared.

This man was blond, well built,

tall, confident. “Right there is your

trouble,” he said, as he pointed to

two belts that looked like shredded

snakes trapped within the guts of

the engine. “It could be that the

alternator seized and caused the

belt to snap. Whatever happened,

the one belt cut into the other and

your fan stopped spinning, which

caused your radiator to overheat.”

I leaned over the engine, pre-

tending I was as wise as Merlin

when it came to auto mechanics,

and said, “What do we do?”

Ten minutes later, Roe, my

mother, our dog, and I were in a

tow truck, riding to Watertown with

our van behind us like a broken

hippopotamus.

The tow truck driver spoke

about his wife and children, about

his work with the Special

Olympics. I thanked him for his

helping us. He said again and

again, “I know what it is like to be

stranded and people don’t help you

out.” He was concerned about my

mother, drove us to the Ramada Inn

in Watertown first, so my mother

would not be upset and she could

settle in. Then he drove me and my

car to the Mazda dealer in

Watertown.

The mechanic, his name was

Lou, seemed right from central cast-

ing. He looked like Nicholas Cage

and was as kind and helpful as St.

Christopher. “Could be the alterna-

tor, or just the belts. I can get you

going by tomorrow morning.” As

we talked, we spoke about our lives

a bit, about our children and jobs.

Who are we as people? The

state trooper’s immediate arrival

and his kindness? The tow truck

driver’s demeanor and grace? (We

exchanged addresses and I sent him

one of my books.) The mechanic

who shook my hand warmly when

I was about to drive out of the park-

ing lot with my repaired automo-

bile? Even the woman behind the

desk at the Ramada Inn was con-

cerned about our plight, rearranged

some rooms, agreed right away to

take the dog, even though there

were “no pet” signs prominently

displayed. “We’ll make you as

comfortable as possible.”

Remember the old Saturday

Evening Post magazine? Norman

Rockwell, with his talent, could

have illustrated the cover of this

week’s issue with a group portrait:

a policeman, a tow truck operator, a

mechanic, a Good Samaritan, and a

hotel clerk, and he would have

given us, with his brushes and

paint, just the right angles, just the

right texture, just the right colors

and light to depict America.


m

Most people learn about

baseball in their back-

yards or a sandlot. I dis-

covered the game on a street corner.

My dad, Joseph DeLiberto, Sr.,

was a bus driver for Public Service

and avid baseball fan. Raised in

New York City, he had attended

many baseball games at the Polo

Grounds and Yankee Stadium.

His hero was Babe Ruth, and I

grew up hearing about “The

Bambino’s” exploits. In fact, many

said that my dad bore a strong

resemblance to his hero.

As the youngest child in the fam-

ily, I loved playing with my dolls,

but after hearing about “The Babe,”

I soon began sharing my Dad’s

enthusiasm… though I couldn’t

fully understand why this man was

such a hero.

During World War II, many

mothers went to work in defense

plants. My mom Vincenza was no

exception. After leaving a hot meal

on the stove for her family, she left

for work at Western Electric in

Passaic to work the 3 to 11 pm shift.

That left Dad in charge.

Te

Summer Reading

LEARNING ABOUT AMERICA’S

PASTIMEBy Adeline DeVries


We always had lots of fun with my dad, playing cards

and other games. We also did our homework, but he was

a great baby-sitter.

Then something new came on the

scene… television!

On Hilton St. and Main Ave., one block

from our house, stood the Federal Appliance

Store with its fantastic TVs glowing through

the storefront window. No more radio

broadcasts of baseball games for us!

Each night, Dad carried our lawn chairs

and snacks to the corners of Main and

Hilton. We joined escalating crowds and

cheered our team on. It was here, on a street

corner with traffic passing by, that I learned

about the game of baseball and became a

true fan. But my mom was mortified – her

family was hanging-out on a street corner!

Mom saved and saved until she bought our own tele-

vision. No longer did we have to go to a street corner to

watch a ballgame, but saw it the comfort of our own

home. We had a Dumont mahogany console

with doors and a 12-inch television screen.

It even had a pullout drawer with a turntable

for records. What luxury! Dad was thrilled

and Mom was happy… her family was off

the street corner. We had one of the first tel-

evision sets on Barkley Ave.

Years have passed but my love of base-

ball that began on that Downtown corner has

grown. Like Dad, I gained my own baseball

heroes, like Joe DiMaggio, Tommy

Heinrich, Johnny Lindell, Yogi Berra, and

my favorite, Bobby Brown, who later

became a doctor. I passed this love of the

game to my four sons who are all baseball

fans.

And it all started on a busy corner in Clifton.

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Forty-two years ago this month, eight music-loving

high school buddies from Clifton decided to take

a three-hour road trip up to a remote location in

the small rural commu-

nity of Bethel, New

York, to hear some of

their favorite rock

bands and folk singers

perform.

Little did the boys

know when they set

out on their journey

that they would

become part of a cul-

tural phenomenon and

the largest music festival of its kind in American history,

better known as Woodstock.

Included in the group were CHS Class of 1968 grad-

uates Tom Graziano, Paul (Helmut) Paukovits, Ed

Pskowski and John Torregrossa, as well as George

Goldey, Tony Lulling,

Bob Marinaro and Tom

Scudilla from the Class

of ’70.

Goldey, Graziano,

Paukovits, Scudilla and

Torregrossa all grew up

together in the Albion

Park neighborhood.

Lulling and Marinaro

were from the Richfield

section and had known

each other since fourth grade, and Pskowski lived on

Valley Rd. near Montclair State.

At the Woodstock campsite, from left: Tom Graziano, Tony Lulling, George Goldey, Tom Scudilla, Helmut (Paul) Paukovits.

f

By Carol Leonard

AT WOODSTOCK3 Days of Peace & Music become a Lifetime of Tales


Eventually, the guys all ended up

at Clifton High School and, in part,

their devotion to the popular music

scene brought them together as

friends.

They often went into New York

City to see their favorite groups per-

form at the now defunct Fillmore

East Theater in the East Village,

where tickets at the time ranged

from $2.50 to $4.50. For that mea-

ger price, concertgoers could see

and hear some of the day’s hottest

performers, including Jimi Hendrix,

Jefferson Airplane, the Allman

Brothers and John Lennon.

Goldey recalled that they first

learned about the Woodstock

Festival in an announcement published in an alternative

newspaper. “They were billing it as a weekend of peace

and music, but we didn’t know much else about it,” he

said. “It seemed like it was only semi-organized.”

“When we heard about it, we discussed going,”

Pskowski said. “Some of us thought

we really didn’t need to get tickets,

but John (Torregrossa) insisted that

we buy them. I think we ended up get-

ting them someplace at the Bergen

Mall. We paid $18 for the three days.

Can you imagine what they would

have cost today?”

Originally planned as a two-day

weekend rock concert for about

50,000 people, the Woodstock

Festival was expanded to a three-day

event, from Friday, Aug. 15, to

Sunday, Aug. 18, 1969. In fact, it

actually ran into a fourth day,

Monday, Aug. 19, as performers con-

tinued to entertain what turned out to

be a crowd of upwards of 500,000

people who descended upon and around the 600-acre

dairy farm where it was held.

Not knowing in advance the enormity of what they

were to experience that weekend, the Clifton boys

packed two cars, Terregrossa’s ’64 Chevy and Scudilla’s

father’s Oldsmobile, with tents and sleeping bags, but

not much else.

“We just thought it was going to be a camping trip and

we were going to listen to some good music,” Goldey

said. Pskowski had to work at his part-time job on

Thursday night when the others guys wanted to leave, so

he planned to go up separately on his Triumph motorcy-

cle and meet them up there.

“I left early Friday morning and it started to rain like

crazy,” he said. “It was storming and I was getting soak-

ing wet, so I turned around and went back home. There

I was sitting all alone at 3 a.m. thinking that I wasn’t

going to get to Woodstock and all of a sudden I saw

John’s car pull up. They got half way up and realized that

I would never make it in the rain, so they came back to

get me. I knew then that they were really good friends.”

As they rode north up the New York Thruway and saw

all the traffic starting to build, the guys began to think

that the Woodstock Festival was going to be much larg-

er than they ever expected.

After getting off the thruway, Marinaro remembers

sitting in traffic on a two lane road and watching cars rid-

ing on the shoulder. “We had our eight-track speakers

hanging out the window and the music blasting the

whole time,” he said.

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When they finally got to the Woodstock area, the guys

realized how unorganized the event would be. “There

was no real designated camp site,” Goldey said. “It was

very random. People just began setting up camp in vacant

hayfields.”

The Clifton boys pitched their tents about a half-mile

away from the music stage on a Little League baseball

field. By then at least 50,000 other people had done the

same, with many, many more to come over the weekend

as word of the event continued to spread.

“When we saw all the traffic heading up there, we

knew it was going to be a lot bigger than we thought,”

Goldey said. “As soon as we arrived and saw all the

hordes of people already there we thought, holy s**t.”

Torregrossa added, “We never imagined that there was

going to be a half-million people there. It hit all of us by

surprise.”

At that point the guys realized how unprepared they

were. “We didn’t have enough food or supplies,”

Pskowski said. “We walked for miles to get to a store.”

Pskowski chuckled when he recalled that he bought a

gallon jug of wine and carried it back the long distance to

the campsite only to drop and break it along the way. And

then there was the rain, lots of it, starting again late Friday

night and continuing off and on throughout the event, cre-

ating a sea of mud as people sloshed through the wet

grounds.

“I wasn’t much of a camper so, when the rain started

coming through the tent, I went and slept in my car,”

Torregrossa said.

Food and water was in short supply and there were

very long lines to use the few restroom facilities that were

available. But, despite the uncomfortable conditions, the

guys all agreed that incredible performances by such

notable groups as The Grateful Dead, The Who,

Credence Clearwater Revival and Blood, Sweat and

Tears, along with folk-rock legends Joan Baez, Arlo

Guthrie, John Sebastian and 25 other groups and singers

made it all worth while.

“When Ritchie Havens came out on stage to open the

show, there was this huge burst of energy,” Pskowski

said. Even with the crowd as large as it was, the Clifton

boys were able to make their way very close to the stage

for many of the performances.

“I can vividly remember being right up front watching

Joe Cocker,” Terregrossa said. “Me in my tie-dyed shirt

with a plastic bag over my head to protect me from the

rain.”

One of Marinaro’s favorite memories was seeing Sly

and the Family Stone. “It was about two or three in the

morning and everyone was wiped out,” he said. “When

Sly walked out and started singing, I Want to Take You

Higher, everyone woke up. He got everybody standing

and he brought the crowd out of their stupor. Then he told

everyone to light a match. It was unbelievable to see.”

Pskowski recalled that on Saturday night many people

started lighting bonfires. “I remember looking around and

you could see about 20 or 30 or them,” he said. “There

were helicopters flying over head. It was incredible.”

The next day, on Sunday, Pskowski remembers laying

on the ground listening to one of the performers when

someone stepped over him. “I looked up and realized it

was one of my friends, Paul Guilfoyle, from Lehigh

University where I was going to college,” he said.

“Everyone was so exhausted at the time so when we ran

into each other again two months later at school we both

asked, did I see you at Woodstock?” Today, Guilfoyle

plays Detective Jim Brass on the hit TV series, CSI.

The setting of the stage in the middle of an open field

created a perfect natural amphitheater, and the music res-

onated far beyond the immediate area. The guys remember

being able to hear it even while sitting at their campsite.

Aside from getting a chance to see and hear some of

their favorite rock and folk music stars, Clifton’s

Woodstock boys got to meet a variety of other music-lov-

ing hippies, peaceniks and just plain fellow suburban

kids like themselves, many of whom traveled from all

over the country to take part in the event.

John Terry Terregrossa and George Goldey.


“Some of these people came from

a completely different reality than us,

real Haight-Ashbury types,” Goldey

said, referring to a district in San

Francisco that was a haven the count-

er culture scene during the 1960s.

“Heck, my father still made me get

haircuts at the time.”

As reported in the press and writ-

ten about extensively in later histor-

ical accounts of Woodstock, the

guys acknowledged witnessing a

good amount of pot smoking and

other drug usage at the event as well

as sexual acts freely taking place out

in the open.

“I have to admit that I saw some

things that I had never seen before in

public and probably shouldn’t have

seen,” Graziano said. In spite of all

that, the group never felt threatened

or concerned for their safety.

“It was a very gentle crowd,”

Goldey said. “There was never a

nasty edge to it at all. It was all very

peaceful.” Marinaro described it as

“a live and let live atmosphere that

will never be duplicated.”

“Don’t worry,” Lulling added,

“we didn’t take the brown acid, so

we were fine.”

Meanwhile, back at home, the

boys’ family members and friends

anxiously awaited their return and

hoped that they were safe and

sound. Without cell phones, the

internet and other technological

advances of today’s modern life and

the lack of phone booths (remember

those, Baby Boomers?) in the area,

there was no communication from

the group while they were away.

Their families relied on accounts of

the event that they read in daily

newspapers and from network TV

news reports (believe it or not, you

20-and-30-somethings, there was no

cable TV as we know it today back

then).

“The local impact was hilarious,”

Goldey said. “All of our parents

thought we were going away to a

sizeable folk/rock festival but when

we got home, it was like VE Day or

something. Apparently the astound-

ing size of this phenomenon caught

the whole world – and Clifton – off

guard. All of our parents and neigh-

bors were waiting for our return as if

we’d been on the first space flight.”

The boys arrived back home late

Sunday night, without a hitch, and

had many interesting stories to tell.

Marinaro even made it to the first

practice of the new CHS football

season the next morning.

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In their CHS yearbooks, from left; Edward Pskowski, Helmut Paukovits, Tom Graziano and John Terry Torregrossa.


f

f

Life after Woodstock returned to

normal and the guys went on to col-

lege and careers, marriages, some

divorces and parenthood.

Goldey and Marinaro moved to

Santa Barbara, California, together

in 1973, where Goldey enrolled at

the University of California’s Santa

Barbara campus. He worked as a tal-

ent agent/manager and publicist in

Hollywood for most of his career,

then later for the RAND

Corporation. He is semi-retired now

and lives in Brentwood, California,

with his wife, Karen, and their

grown daughter.

Marinaro later moved north to

complete his bachelor’s degree at

UC Berkeley and went on for a mas-

ter’s degree in cartography from the

University of Wisconsin. He worked

for the US Geological Service for 26

years. He lives in Palo Alto,

California, with his wife, Debbie,

and their 16 year-old daughter.

Pskowski has been living in

Honolulu, Hawaii, since 1974. After

serving in the Peace Corps in the

Marshall Islands, he stayed on as a

planning officer for design and con-

struction projects, and later earned a

master’s degree in urban regional

planning from the University of

Hawaii. Currently, he works as a

project manager, supervising proj-

ects all over the Pacific Islands, Asia

and Hawaii, and travels 150,000

miles a year. He has three daughters

and six grandchildren.

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From l

From left; Robert Marinaro, Thomas Scudilla, George Goldey and Anthony Lulling


Torregrossa attended Florida

Atlantic University and has made

his career in the music industry,

starting out as a DJ. He later sold

musical instruments and sound

equipment, and today serves as

national sales manager for a division

of Numark Industries. He lives in

Fort Lauderdale with his wife,

Tracey, and their Great Dane.

Lulling attended college in

Pittsburgh, and completed his

degree at FDU. He enjoyed a 25-

year career in pharmaceutical mar-

keting and advertising at Hoffman

LaRoche, and lived in Upper

Montclair with his now ex-wife and

now grown son and daughter. After

retiring in 2003, he moved to

SantaFe, New Mexico, where he

owns a bar, the Tin Star Saloon.

Graziano received his bachelor’s

degree from William Paterson

College and a master’s in physiology

from FDU, while working in

research for Schering-Plough. He

went on to graduate from the Illinois

School of Podiatric Medicine in

Chicago and has been in practice in

Clifton as foot and ankle surgeon

since 1983. Four years ago, he also

completed the requirements for his

medical doctor degree from the

University of Health Sciences. He

lives in Ramsey and has a grown son

who is the administrator in his

Clifton Surgery Center.

Scudilla went to Robert Morris

College in Pennsylvania before

completing his degree at Montclair

State. He also had a 25-year career

at Hoffman LaRoche as a cost

accountant, and later worked as an

accountant for a perfume packaging

company. He is the only member of

the group who still lives in Clifton

with his wife, Ingrid, and has two

grown sons.

Paukovits was unreachable for

comment, but several of the others

reported that he resides in Garfield.

Over the years, the eight friends

have kept in touch and visited each

other from time to time. Lulling has

held several reunions at his Sante Fe

home that a number of them have

attended. Several of the guys also

have Facebook pages, where they

keep each other up to date on their

lives and share memories of their

time together as Clifton boys as well

as their unforgettable weekend at

Woodstock.

Marinaro, who was the group’s

unofficial photographer, has a slew

of photos from Woodstock on his

Facebook page (listed under Robert

Marinaro), all shot with his Kodak

Instamatic film camera (that’s right,

20-and 30-somethings, there were

no digital cameras back then, either).

He also recently helped a start-up

firm develop an i-Pad application on

Woodstock, a project that he said

helped him relive the experience

one more time.

Some of the Woodstock crew in 2009, Ed Pskowski, Robert Marinaro, GeorgeGoldey, John Terry Torregrossa and Tony Lulling.


With 19 musicians in the wheelhouse,armed with many years of professional

playing experience, One More Once has

the ability to produce a wide range of catchy big band

and jazz tunes. But harnessing all of that talent and

producing quality music is not as simple as heading to

the studio and belting out some sonds. There is a def-

inite sense of chemistry between members, a bond that

exists beyond the many shows and rehearsals. This is

the driving force behind One More Once, allowing co-

leaders Joe Verderese and Timothy Hayward to craft

harmonious jazz and big band tunes from a mish mash

of horns, guitars, percussion and vocal sounds.

“These are who we thought can handle it and who we

like as people. That’s a big part of music—not who can

play, but who you get along with,” explained Verderese.

“The better you get along, the better music you make.

Tim and I are always hanging out, getting stuff togeth-

er. Glen and Ryan and I get wings at Sharky’s.”

That element was how Verderse, a 1999 CHS alum,

selected musicians from a deep talent pool around New

Jersey when he first started to lay the foundation for

One More Once sometimes in 2008. Naturally, his

search led him to a familiar place: Old friends and fel-

low former Marching Mustangs.

The Showband of the Northeast is well represented

in the group. Mustang alum include, Glen Levitsch,

CHS 2001, Ryan Krewer, CHS 1997, Joe’s cousin Luis

Imparato, CHS 2002, Shane Zwievel, CHS 1987, and

Joe’s sister, Karen, a CHS 1996 alum.

By Joe Hawrylko

ONE MORE ONCEThe Alchemy of a Big Band on the Rise


“That group of people, most of us have played

together in the past,” said Verderese, who also played

trombone while in the Marching Mustangs.

“Throughout high school and then we had a big band

similar to this in high school. Some of us played pro-

fessionally in other groups in the area and around New

Jersey. It’s basically a band of Clifton people that I

knew and guys from MSU that John Molloy (a former

band member) knew.”

Since 2008, the line up has been altered drastically

as Verderse auditioned many musicians. Only nine of

the original 19 remain with the band.

“We underwent a major face lift. We matured,

became a bit older band,” said Verderese. “It’s great,

really helpful. We’ve got such a diversity of not only

musical styles, but personalities. These guys have been

playing everywhere with some pretty famous acts.

They’ve done so many things—they bring a knowledge

of music. You’re playing with guys who have played

big band music since the 70s.”

But it was the addition of co-leader Timothy

Hayward, a professional musician who relocated to

Clifton from Paris, that helped solidify the line up and

the direction of the band after joining on a permanent

basis when he moved to the United States in 2010.

The connection between Hayward, Verderese and

the band goes back several years prior, when they had

bonded after being introduced by a mutual friend and

fellow musician, Bob Ferrel.

“He is a really great trombone player, one of the

Duke Elingtons of trombone players, and he was Joe’s

teacher,” explained Hayward, 28. “Bob introduced me

to Joe and first well all hung out as friends, but music

became involved pretty quickly.”

Verderese, a music teacher in Cresskill, first worked

with Hayward after hiring him to perform at school

functions. However, the native of France, whose train-

ing includes degrees from Conservatoire Supérieur de

Paris and the Conservatoire National Supérieur de

Musique et de Danse de Paris, is also an accomplished

music composer, and began supplying One More Once

with original scores to perform.

At the time, Hayward was a part timer in America,

coming over for a few weeks at a time to work some

gigs in the NYC area. In 2009, Verderese contacted

Hayward about filling in last second for a member at a

concert to benefit the Wounded Warriors project.

“That was my first gig with the band and I loved it

right away of course, and he definitely felt it too,” he

explained. Hayward was already contemplating a

move to the US because his gigging schedule was

becoming more busy, and the invitation from Verderese

to join the band as a co-leader in 2010 simplified the

decision.

“We have a great relationship, a great friendship,”

explained Hayward. “We have the same way of work-

ing, if I can put it this way. We are devoted towards the

band, towards the music. We have the same values in

terms of what music we love. It was just logical.”

Between the two co-leaders and the other band

members, who often play with each other in local acts

such as Chris Opperman, The Infernos and more, there

are many different genres that influence the overall

sound of One More Once.

“It’s a heavy influence of a few big band leaders:

Buddy Rich, Maynard Ferguson, that type of stuff.

There’s some new vibe stuff too, like the Gordon

Goodwin Big Phat Band,” explained Verderese. “We

can play at a jazz club, play at a park or if we need to,

play at a wedding, for either a bunch of 20 somethings

or 90 somethings and everyone will be happy.”

“Playing with all those different groups, I take pieces

of what I like from each band, pieces what I like from

leader ship and put it all together to create my own

style,” he continued. “Leading a group of profession-

als is different than leading a group of kids.”

During the school year, Verderese’s students and

have the opportunity to perform alongside their teacher

at Trumpet’s Jazz Club in Montclair, where One More

Once has had a regular gig since last year. The union

between students and teachers creates a unique learning

experience, and an excellent marketing opportunity.

“We have a high school band open for us and the

kids play from 7:30 to 8 pm,” said Verderese. his

band’s show includes classic and original scores, with

some swing music tunes as well as slower dinner songs.

“Then we’ll go on and play some heavy ensemble stuff,

sprinkled with some awesome solos so the kids can

hear what can be done. We take a break then come

back for our second set, which is largely based on

improvising solos and spreading it out.”

Most importantly, Verderese believes that students

will understand that it is possible to do something that

you love, with people you love, and still make a living.

“We’ve gotten the comment many times that it looks

like we’re having a lot of fun,” laughed Verderese.

big

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me-

one


Chris Opperman (CHSClass of 1996) is so com-

mitted to creating music

that he began his own record label,

Purple Cow Records in 1998, when

he was only 19. “My parents

thought I was crazy,” Opperman

said, laughing, “but I was driven to

do it and I didn’t want to lose any

time or opportunities.”

Now at 32, Opperman has just

released his fifth studio album,

“The Lionheart,” an instrumental

album that combines modern clas-

sical music with elements of rock,

alternative, and jazz. “I don’t see

distinctions between genres. This

album is very diverse and a kind of

musical journey,” he explained.

While growing up in Clifton,

Opperman began taking piano les-

sons as a present for his eighth

birthday and the rest is history.

In elementary school, he began

to play the trumpet in the band

under the direction of Tom

Charsky. “If there was a band or

choir, I was part of it,” Opperman

said. “I took lots of music classes,

practiced during my lunch periods,

and stayed late after school for

rehearsals.”

As part of the Mustang

Marching Band under the direction

of Bob Morgan, Opperman enjoyed

the great sense of camaraderie. “I

was friends with people not only in

my section and I have so many

good memories from being part of

the band,” he said “I liked being

able to play really loud all the

time.” While he was clearly pas-

sionate about music, Opperman did

not become interested in the actual

composing process until his junior

year after hearing the music of leg-

endary composer, singer-song-

writer, and guitarist Frank Zappa.

“He’s so crazily into music,”

Opperman said about Zappa. “He

put out seventy-five albums in

twenty-five years and never once

repeated himself as a guitarist. I

would have loved to have per-

formed with him.” While the

Cliftonite will never get to play

with Zappa—he died in 1993—

Opperman will perform with an

ensemble at the Frank Zappa festi-

val (Zappanale) on Aug. 19-21in

Bad Doberan, Germany. But

before he performed there, he'll fin-

ish a score entitled “Lollipops &

Roses” for the Clifton Community

Band, which he is doing at the

request of the conductor and his

mentor, Bob Morgan.

After starting Purple Cow

Records in 1998, named after his

affinity for wearing purple and

drawing stick-figure cows in high

school, Opperman put together a

fifteen piece band to record his first

record, “Oppy Music, Vol. I:

Purple, Crayon,” which became a

popular favorite on local college

radio stations. After graduating

from Boston’s Berklee College of

Music, Opperman moved to Los

Angeles and in 2001 released his

second album titled

“Klavierstucke,” a piano-solo

album which caught the attention

of Steve Vai, a Grammy Award-

winning rock musician and com-

poser.

Vai hired Opperman to orches-

trate several compositions, includ-

ing “For the Love of God,”

By Tania Jachens

CHRIS OPPERMANGiving Classical Music a Modern Edge


the video of which has over seven

million views on YouTube.

Opperman also played piano for

Vai on two songs, “Lotus Feet” in

2006 and “The Attitude Song” in

2008, both of which were nominat-

ed for the Best Rock Instrumental

Performance Grammy in their

respective years.

Opperman looks back fondly on

the experience. “I learned a lot

because he’s so detailed and

intense. He’s so good that it might

as well be magic,” he said. “He

practices a ton, so when he plays it

seems so natural and easy. He’s

very demanding but he wanted to

work with me, so it was very

rewarding.” Opperman lived in

Amsterdam, Holland for two

months while working with Vai,

and cities it as one of his favorite

cities to visit.

After releasing two more

albums, including 2004’s collection

of duets called “Concepts of Non-

linear Time” and 2005’s live album

called “Beyond the Foggy

Highway,” Opperman considers his

new album, “The Lionheart,” to be

a “full out studio rock band

album.” Named after “what it

takes to survive in the music indus-

try,” this album presents

Opperman’s first major original

work for a full orchestra plus a rock

ensemble.

This song, called “The

Porpentine,” is an ambitious multi-

movement opus that took

Opperman one year to write and

three years to actually record.

“With this song, I set the bar so

high and it took every ounce of my

energy to write and fundraise for

it,” Opperman explained. After

composing it, Opperman recorded

computerized sounds and then

slowly replaced them with a total of

fifty live instruments. “For every

hour I spent working on

the album, I spent one

and a half on ‘The

P o r p e n t i n e ’ , ”

Opperman said. “The

entire album was a

daunting task, but I was

satisfied as long as by

the end of each day a

little bit more was done

and I was that much

closer to my final

goal.”

As a com-

p o s e r ,

Opperman con-

siders himself

to be more

open-minded

than most other

c o m p o s e r s

because “I

don’t feel like I

have to classify myself. Any com-

poser is going to take what they

hear and make something of it.

Some turn up their noses if you use

guitars and drums because that’s

considered pop,” Opperman

explained. “I grew up in the 90’s,

so I can’t pretend that Nirvana and

The Beatles don’t exist.”

Previously quoted saying, “if

Beethoven were alive today, he

would be pushing the envelope

with his musicians, utilizing the lat-

est technology, and embracing

many styles of music to create his

own inimitable sound,” Opperman

thinks this division

explains why it is diffi-

cult for younger genera-

tions to gain an interest

in classical music. “You

have to make it relevant

by making comparisons

between classical music

and contemporary music

rather than just disparag-

ing all modern music.”

Besides Zappa, Opperman has

been influenced by the rock band

Sonic Youth, along with classical

composers and pianists Prokofiev

and Bartok. However, he said that

he is not so keen on many new

musicians. “There is a difference

between an entertainer and a musi-

cian,” he said. “However, there are

a lot of rock bands who are really

good, like The Killers, My

Chemical Romance, and Linkin

Park. But I’m partial to piano play-

ers. Sara Bareilles and


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Bruno Mars are great and sound

even better live.”

While he is not composing,

Opperman still likes to play the

piano for fun, adding. “I’ll improvise

until something sticks with me and

that usually begins a song I write.”

Since moving back to Clifton in

2008, Opperman now plays trum-

pet with the Clifton Community

Band, also under the direction of

Mr. Morgan. “He’s a great guy and

I enjoy that he’s really intense. No

one works harder than him, so he’s

definitely a role model for people

who want to get into music,” he

said. “He’s proud of me and it’s

great to be working with him

again.” Opperman is now working

on an arrangement called

“Lollipops & Roses” which the

Clifton Community Band will per-

form this summer.

Since earning his Master’s

Degree in Music Composition from

Montclair State University,

Opperman has been hired as an

Adjunct Professor at MSU to teach

an independent study on the music

industry, which he is very excited

about. Opperman also has another

album soon to be released called

“Play Like Men, Eat Like Kings!”

which he worked on with Counting

Crows founding bassist Matt

Malley and Grammy-nominated

saxophonist Frank Macchia. This

album was created from the unique

idea that “instead of having a good-

bye party when I was leaving LA, I

decided to write an album in one

day. I asked Matt and Frank to join

and we worked for twelve hours

straight on this album which, in the

end, really doesn’t sound like it was

done in a day.”

Another album which Opperman

has in the works is a collection of

Walt Whitman artsongs for piano

and soprano called “Leaves of

Grass.” This summer, Opperman

will be performing with his ensem-

ble Special Opps as one of the

headliners at the annual Frank

Zappa Festival (Zappanale) in Bad

Doberan, Germany.

Even after so many years of

doing what he loves, Opperman is

still taken back by his accomplish-

ments. “If you told me in high

school that I’d play with Steve Vai

and Grammy nominated musicians,

I would have laughed in your face,”

he said. “I never thought anyone

would listen to or appreciate my

music.”

The Cliftonite said any aspiring

musicians should pursue their

dreams as well. “Just write stuff. It

doesn’t matter if it’s good and it

doesn’t matter what your parents or

teachers think,” he said. “Don’t

give up and you’ll get better

because you learn so much more by

actually doing something.”

Find Opperman’s new album,

“The Lionheart,” at www.chrisop-

perman.net or on iTunes.


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Bruno Mars are great and sound

even better live.”

While he is not composing,

Opperman still likes to play the

piano for fun, adding. “I’ll improvise

until something sticks with me and

that usually begins a song I write.”

Since moving back to Clifton in

2008, Opperman now plays trum-

pet with the Clifton Community

Band, also under the direction of

Mr. Morgan. “He’s a great guy and

I enjoy that he’s really intense. No

one works harder than him, so he’s

definitely a role model for people

who want to get into music,” he

said. “He’s proud of me and it’s

great to be working with him

again.” Opperman is now working

on an arrangement called

“Lollipops & Roses” which the

Clifton Community Band will per-

form this summer.

Since earning his Master’s

Degree in Music Composition from

Montclair State University,

Opperman has been hired as an

Adjunct Professor at MSU to teach

an independent study on the music

industry, which he is very excited

about. Opperman also has another

album soon to be released called

“Play Like Men, Eat Like Kings!”

which he worked on with Counting

Crows founding bassist Matt

Malley and Grammy-nominated

saxophonist Frank Macchia. This

album was created from the unique

idea that “instead of having a good-

bye party when I was leaving LA, I

decided to write an album in one

day. I asked Matt and Frank to join

and we worked for twelve hours

straight on this album which, in the

end, really doesn’t sound like it was

done in a day.”

Another album which Opperman

has in the works is a collection of

Walt Whitman artsongs for piano

and soprano called “Leaves of

Grass.” This summer, Opperman

will be performing with his ensem-

ble Special Opps as one of the

headliners at the annual Frank

Zappa Festival (Zappanale) in Bad

Doberan, Germany.

Even after so many years of

doing what he loves, Opperman is

still taken back by his accomplish-

ments. “If you told me in high

school that I’d play with Steve Vai

and Grammy nominated musicians,

I would have laughed in your face,”

he said. “I never thought anyone

would listen to or appreciate my

music.”

The Cliftonite said any aspiring

musicians should pursue their

dreams as well. “Just write stuff. It

doesn’t matter if it’s good and it

doesn’t matter what your parents or

teachers think,” he said. “Don’t

give up and you’ll get better

because you learn so much more by

actually doing something.”

Find Opperman’s new album,

“The Lionheart,” at www.chrisop-

perman.net or on iTunes.


Ray Grabowski joined the Fred Astaire Studio ofUpper Montclair two years ago hoping to learn

how to swing dance. Somehow, he ended up play-

ing swing music instead.

“I always wanted to learn how to swing dance and I went to

the school and met (teacher) Carrie Babcock,” explained

Grabowski. “I used to play years ago professionally. I kind of

retired and then took dance lessons up. I had the idea of putting a

band together again for a while and roped Carrie into it since she

can sing.”

The unexpected turn of events led to the creation of Swingman

and the Misfit Mutts, a nine piece, jump jiving swing band that

harkens back to an era of music from long ago.

“The Blues Brothers movie, that’s basically what our band is

like,” explained Grabowski, the leader of Swingman and the Misfit

Mutts. “We play stuff from the 50s, 60s, a lot of contemporary blues

songs... we give people unique songs but also do a lot of cover stuff.

Blues music is not only slow music, it’s got a shuffle beat.”

The band came together over the span of about a year after a lengthy

search and many auditions.

By Joe Hawrylko

THE MISFIT MUTTSSwingman Ray Grabowski Keeps ‘Em on a Loose Leash


COLOR“We actually went to open coffee

houses, open mic nights and on the

internet, just talking with different

musicians,” explained Ray. “We

actually ran into Pete at a coffee

house and he said ok, and then he

got me a sax player.”

The line up includes Ray

Grabowski on drums, Slap Pappy on

bass, Rich Fischer on lead guitar,

Leny Nigro on sap and harp, Shane

Zwibel wields the baritone sax, with

Carolyn Messina playing key-

boards. The vocals are handled by

Carrie and Pete DeMaio.

The creation of Swingman and

the Misfit Mutts also led to the

musical reunion of Grabowski and

his brother, Matt, a City Councilman

and an accomplished musician in his

own right. Matt is the third vocalist

for the band, and has nine albums to

his name on mattgarbo.com.

In the past, the Grabowskis have

collaborated on numerous projects,

most notably Cerberus. a rock band

which achieved success domestical-

ly and abroad in Europe. Ray

recorded and co-produced two

records and an album with the group.

“That was an original band,”

recalled Grabowski. “We played

together for a couple of years in

New York City, hitting all the big

rock clubs, parties, barmitzvahs,

catering.”

Their shared professional musi-

cian background simplified the

process of finding like-minded

musicians and forming a distinct

sound.

“All of the people hired, they are

professionals, not high schoolers in

a garage,” he continued. “We prac-

tice every Wednesday, and if we

have time on Tuesday we put in

some hours. If I send everyone a

CD on Friday, they’d come in next

Wednesday and we’d count it down

and play it. These guys are really

good.”

In the short time that the band has

been actively performing,

Swingman and the Misfit Mutts

have developed a following.

“In the last three months, we’ve

played six times. That’s more than

some bands play in an entire year,”

he said. “We only came out in

March. We’ve done Bliss a

The Swingman, Ray Grabowski.

Monday - Saturday 11am - 10pmSunday 3pm - 10pm

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couple times, Crossroads, the Whiskey Cafe, the

Downtown Salsa Night.”

Word of the band has spread in part due to the

Grabowski brothers promotion of the group and the part-

nership with Fred Astaire Studio of Upper Montclair.

“The first time we played, we probably had 100 peo-

ple from there come,” said Grabowski. “They dance

every single song and when you’re in the crowd, it gets

contagious. People from the dance school are friendly.

They just go up to anyone and say, ‘lets dance.’”

As the band’s popularity grows, Grabowski said the

band has started to include more original works, and

more booking opportunities have opened up. Everything

is happening just as he envisioned it.

“We have a bunch of great people with us,” he said.

“My brother, he’s a good looking guy, and Carrie, she’s

a good looking girl. What else can you ask for? It’s

visual, and it works.”

11 am - 6 pm Every Friday until Oct. 7

at Clifton Ave and First St.

www.downtownclifton.com

Misfit Mutt Richie Fischer on July 15 in Downtown Clifton.


Noches De Columbia 1 Village Square East

973-928-4553

European Grill & BBQ of Clifton224 Parker Ave.973-928-1680

FRESH Unisex Salon256 Dayton Ave.973-928-5521

BOTANY Free Summer Friday Night

Concert SeriesHeld in Sullivan Square in the Heart ofBotany Village starting at 6:30PM

Bring a chair and your dancing shoes!

Friday night concerts funded, in part, by the Passaic County Cultural& Heritage Council / the NJ State Council on the Arts / Department of

State, a Partner Agency of the National Endowment for the Arts.

All concerts held rain or shine. In case of rain, concert will bemove indoors at the Italian Amercan Coop on Parker Ave.

10th Annual Labor Day Weekend Festival in the Park CarnivalRides, Food & Fun • September 2, 3, 4 & 5

5-10 pm in Randolph ParkWelcome our new Neighbors...

5The FrostKings

12Rave On

19The Mike

Luipersbeck Band

26Sweeter than Honey

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Find out more about Botany: John Penkalski: 973-546-9813

Joe Nikischer: 609-731-5454

Greg Mayo:

[email protected]

e


For a self-professedmusic geek like BillKelly, it’s the best job

in the world. A radio DJ at

WFMU since 1978, his job

has given him access to the

company’s massive music

library and allowed him to

interact with some of the pre-

mier talent in radio and

music, including ‘Little

Steven’ Steven Van Zandt of

the E Street Band fame, who

eventually ended up recruit-

ing the Kelly, man known as

the Guru of Garage, when he

was preparing to set up his

own station nearly a decade

ago.

“Ten years ago his office manager called to set up a

meeting,” he recalled. “I thought I was being punked, but

I go there and damnit, he is there.”

Kelly had heard rumors of having a celebrity fan, and it

turned out that Van Zandt (above, left) enjoyed his show so

much that he wanted to get a hold of the Cliftonite for tips

on how to start up his own show on Sirius Satellite Radio.

“He met me because he was interested in getting into

radio and he liked my show specifically. Essentially when

he started his syndicated show, he even acknowledged my

show as the prototype,” explained Kelly, who has had his

own slot on the Underground Garage since 2004. “The

fact that I got to meet him and work on his radio show is

a thrill. The fact that he’s a great guy is a bonus, just icing

on the cake.”

The two bonded over their shared love of the raw

sounding American garage rock band from the 60s, which

drew heavily from British Invasion bands like The Kinks

and others. And while Kelly did enjoy the some of the

mainstream groups, his passion was finding obscure but

talented local bands from around the country. Prior to

Napster revolutionizing the way people listen to music,

the only way someone could listen to a local band from

across the country in 1978 was to either listen to the radio

at a precise time of day when the signals would carry the

farthest, or start working at a radio station with access to a

impossibly huge album collection.

“My first show at WFMU was on Aug. 15, 1978 and I

haven’t looked back since,” recalled Kelly, an unpaid vol-

unteer who airs from 3 to 5 pm on Sundays. “I wanted an

opportunity to have access to as much music as possible

as a music geek. I wanted to play what I like instead of

what I’m supposed to like. I’m a bit of a music historian,

so I’m quite well versed. It’s a hobby but turned out to be

more than just that.”

It could quite possibly be destiny—Kelly’s fascination

with music and radio started many years ago after sickness

confined him to his bed for a few weeks as a child.

By Joe Hawrylko

REAL ROCK & ROLLDJ Bill Kelly is Hailed as the Guru of Garage


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“In the first grade, I got the measles,” recalled Kelly. “So

I was home, watching tv, and my mother comes in and puts

a table radio next to the bed and said you’re going to get sick

of all this TV, listen to the radio.”

The TV went off and the radio went on, and Kelly’s inter-

est in music and radio piqued. His love of music became a

passion and then obsession throughout his childhood.

While attending Holy Cross College, Kelly volunteered

at the school radio station and briefly considered a career in

broadcasting but decided against it for a field with better job

prospects and now operates his own company, International

Components, out of his home.

But that passion for music continued to burn after he

graduated in 1970. After learning about a volunteer oppor-

tunity at WFMU, he went there in 1978 and has been there

ever since.

With more than

three decades of air-

time experience, Kelly

has developed a fol-

lowing, and has

earned himself a hand-

ful of odd nicknames:

The Guru of Garage,

the Sultan of Surf, the

Potentate of Power

Pop, the Mountebank

of Manhattan an d the

Black Hole of Rock

and Role, among oth-

ers.

The names—some

given, some authored himself—all speak of his seemingly

endless and occasionally useful knowledge of rock acts both

popular and obscure. Kelly has 45 demos of groups that

few of heard of and that the artists themselves sometimes

don’t even know exist.

“I’ve gotten calls from some artists asking where I found

their stuff because they don’t even have it,” he said. “Five

years ago, I got a call from a woman in Ohio who was get-

ting married. Her father was in a band, The Journey Men

and heard their song on the radio.”

The Guru of Garage came through and had a copy of the

song delivered to the DJ at the wedding. It’s little anecdotes

like that make his job well worth the time.

“I’m just happy doing what I do at WFMU and the

Underground Garage,” said Kelly. “This is a labor of love.”

Bill Kelly as he appears on theWFMU DJ collectible cards.


“In the first grade, I got the measles,” recalled Kelly. “So

I was home, watching tv, and my mother comes in and puts

a table radio next to the bed and said you’re going to get sick

of all this TV, listen to the radio.”

The TV went off and the radio went on, and Kelly’s inter-

est in music and radio piqued. His love of music became a

passion and then obsession throughout his childhood.

While attending Holy Cross College, Kelly volunteered

at the school radio station and briefly considered a career in

broadcasting but decided against it for a field with better job

prospects and now operates his own company, International

Components, out of his home.

But that passion for music continued to burn after he

graduated in 1970. After learning about a volunteer oppor-

tunity at WFMU, he went there in 1978 and has been there

ever since.

With more than

three decades of air-

time experience, Kelly

has developed a fol-

lowing, and has

earned himself a hand-

ful of odd nicknames:

The Guru of Garage,

the Sultan of Surf, the

Potentate of Power

Pop, the Mountebank

of Manhattan an d the

Black Hole of Rock

and Role, among oth-

ers.

The names—some

given, some authored himself—all speak of his seemingly

endless and occasionally useful knowledge of rock acts both

popular and obscure. Kelly has 45 demos of groups that

few of heard of and that the artists themselves sometimes

don’t even know exist.

“I’ve gotten calls from some artists asking where I found

their stuff because they don’t even have it,” he said. “Five

years ago, I got a call from a woman in Ohio who was get-

ting married. Her father was in a band, The Journey Men

and heard their song on the radio.”

The Guru of Garage came through and had a copy of the

song delivered to the DJ at the wedding. It’s little anecdotes

like that make his job well worth the time.

“I’m just happy doing what I do at WFMU and the

Underground Garage,” said Kelly. “This is a labor of love.”


On June 5, several bands and many fans came outto Dingbatz on Van Houten Ave. for a benefit con-cert to support the New Jersey Society for thePrevention of Cruelty to Animals. James Nastaand other members from Clifton band, TheUnknown (left), helped coordinate the event withbar owner Freddy Dingo, and then later per-formed. Above is The Dirty Stayouts, anotherClifton based band which performed that day. Tohear some music, look up each band’s name onFacebook. Below center is Keith ‘Kahuna’ Mekita, who hostskaraoke nights at Milano’s on Van Houten Ave.every Saturday night. Pictured from left is ReginaCarfora, Ross LaCorte, Robert Rowan and wifeJoyce, Lori and Keith Mekita, and Richard andDebbie Lekstom.


SIBLINGDISCOUNT

Always interested in music, Danny Farkas had

always treated it as a fun hobby and nothing

more. However, after graduating from CHS in

2001, the former Marching Mustang began to explore

career options and ultimately enrolled in NYU’s music

business grad program.

The decision allowed Farkas to embark on a career in

the music industry, where he combines his sales skills

with his love of music.

Farkas currently works for Getty Images, but not in

the capacity that most would imagine. An account exec-

utive with the music branch, he sells music licenses to be

used in advertisements and other forms of short media.

“I deal with creative agencies, production companies,

creative departments within corporate clients,” he said.

“I usually deal with departments that are making creative

videos or marketing campaigns.”

“A lot of it is dealing with existing clients, getting

them to buy or subscribe to our service,” he said. “ “We

even get clients who are in the music industry or are cur-

rent Getty customers that don’t know that we do this.”

The prospect of working in a new branch within an

already established company is what attracted Farkas to

Getty Images.

“I was brought in to be their lead sales guy,” he said.

“We deal mainly with production music and the kind of

music used as background music.”

Prior to Getty, Farkas worked for an artist manage-

ment company for three years, working closely with

musicians like Regina Spektor and others.

“My role was kind of like Jonah Hill’s character in

Get Him To the Greek,” he explained. “But it wasn’t so

much being a personal assistant. We worked with every-

one that the artist dealt with: the label, business man-

agers, lawyers... If we were putting out an album, we’d

be dealing with the record label. On tour, a lot of book-

ing agents and tour managers. My boss would make

executive decisions and I’d carry out those decisions.”

The job called for Farkas to sometimes hit the road

with musicians, stopping across the United States and

Canada, as well as the United Kingdom.

“Anything you could encounter in the music industry

on the talent side, you’d run into while you’re doing

artist management,” he added.

The time spent at the company gave Farkas valuable

experience in the industry, and the confidence to start

exploring for other opportunities in the field. An open-

ing at Getty Images attracted him, and Farkas has been

working for the company’s emerging music division for

three months.

“Getty got into music four years ago when they

acquired a company, Pump Audio,” he said. “From

Danny Farkas is with Getty Images’ music branch.

By Joe Hawrylko

PASSION MEETS TALENTDanny Farkas Combines Sales Skill with Love of Music


there, they’ve expanded music offer-

ings and much like Getty Images,

have both rights management and

royalty free images.”

“It’s challenging because coming

from a music background, I remem-

ber what I went through at the music

business graduate program at NYU,

immersed in music-only,” continued

Farkas. “Coming here, there’s a

wide range of very smart people

who deal with a lot of different types

of licensing. It’s challenging, and

obviously I’m just learning. This

part of the industry is exciting. It’s a

new, well-rounded experience.”

The former Cliftonite said that his

new gig is a perfect blend of his

sales skills and his love of music.

The ability to see his success in the

new branch of Getty Images is what

motivates him each morning.

“You’re starting with a product

that people don’t know much

about,” he said. “It can only go up if

things go well.”

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Blues Rocker Jerome Mykietym brings his band The Reclamatorsto the Rosen Theatre at the YM/YWHA of North Jersey in Wayne on

Sept. 18 at 7 pm. Special guest include veteran bluesman Robert

Ross and Jerome’s son Jeremy of The Benjamins on drums. Mykietyn has

come full circle with the release of his blues album, Sing It, White Boy! with

observations on global warming, homelessness, the economy and love’s

rejection. Mykietyn had his first single release (vinyl) in 1963 and for the

next six years he turned out 15 singles. Find out more and sample his sound

at www.myspace.com/thereclamators.


Around the blazing council fire light

We have met in comradeship tonight

Round about the whispering trees

Guards our golden memories

And so before we close our eyes to sleep

Let us pledge each other that we’ll keep

Camping friendships strong and deep

Till we meet again...

Story by Julie Generalli Dominick

Photo by Collette Kennedy

Friendships forged at the Campfire

R E M E M B E R I N G C A M P C L I F T O N


Around the blazing council fire light

We have met in comradeship tonight

Round about the whispering trees

Guards our golden memories

And so before we close our eyes to sleep

Let us pledge each other that we’ll keep

Camping friendships strong and deep

Till we meet again...

Photo by Collette Kennedy

Friendships forged at the Campfire

On the facing page, a photo from areunion held two years ago in whichold friendships and campfires wererekindled. Top of page... boys at thebasketball court, a ceremony invokingthe Lenni Lenape traditions, and bot-tom, a pig roast to close out a session.

The tradition at Camp

Clifton was to end each

campfire with a song

pledging to keep our

summer friendships

alive, the words to which are on the

facing page. We laughed about how

corny those lines sounded when we

were teens but decades later—and for

generations of campers—those verses

have kept us connected.

Photos and comments from former

campers—generations of whom have

remained friends—some have even

married!—tell the story... Camp

Clifton holds a special place in the

hearts of many of us.

I was a camper and later a coun-

selor at the Clifton Boys Club camp

from 1967-1971. Today, at 55 years

of age, I still remain closely connect-

ed to those who have a shared histo-

ry of carefree and blissful days of

summers past.

In 1961, the Clifton Boys Club

executive director, Al Abruscoto pur-

chased Camp Ranger in Jefferson

Township and opened the camp for

boys in 1963. Four years later,

Clifton girls were offered the chance

to attend a two-week session. By

1968 another girls’ session was

added due to popular demand. A bar-

gain at $110 a session, my parents

and many others took full advantage

and signed all six of us up.



At the path to the lake, from top, camp cookBen Pierce, counselor Severin Palydowiczand Diane Quinn, and below, a look backat a live performance on the lake. Bottomof page, unidentified groups of campers.


“You were the reason my sisters

and I went to camp,” Patricia

DeLora told me recently. “Our

moms met at a UNICO meeting

and the next thing I knew, we were

out buying trunks with locks on

them.” .

Sisters Joanne, Patricia and

Linda DeLora also attended the

first girls’ session and instantly

bonded with me and my own three

sisters, Roseanne, Janet and Vicki

Generalli. We became so close to

the DeLora family that many peo-

ple thought we were related.

“Maybe that’s because you call my

mother Aunt Toot and I call your

mother Aunt Gen.” she laughed.

I recently had a chance to remi-

nisce with Patricia, who now

resides in Bloomfield with her hus-

band, Dr. Richard Podkul, and their

children, Lauren and Alex.

“Remember when the coun-

selors kept playing the soundtrack

to Romeo and Juliet over and over?

Your sister Roseanne drove us to

see the movie at the Clifton Theater

on Main Avenue in 1968.” Romeo

and Juliet remains on Pat’s and my

top ten movie list.

The counselors left lasting

impressions on us all. “I remember

my CIT (counselor-in-training)

Diane Quinn because she was beau-

tiful, so nice,” Pat mused. Diane’s

mother was the first camp nurse and

is remembered fondly by many.

Kathy DeLuca, whose family

name is synonymous with the Boys

Club and Camp Clifton, recalls her

first days at camp and time spent in

the camp infirmary.

“In 1967, I went to see my broth-

ers Vic and Ray on visiting day,”

said Kathy who was only 9 years

old, “and everyone loved me. I was

just a kid and they begged me to

stay. I went to visit and never went

home. Little did they know I had

the chicken pox. Our entire cabin

had to be quarantined. I ended up

staying in the camp infirmary for

my first week up there.”

Kathy and I fondly remember

the camp cook, Ben Pierce, who

was most likely the first African

American man that we knew.

Kathy recalls asking Ben every

night, “What’s for dinner?” He

would answer, “Food.”

Kathy: “What kind of food?”

Ben: “Good food!”

Kathy and I would eventually

become bunkmates and good bud-

dies. Together we earned the right

to take an overnight trip on the

Appalachian Trail, a requirement

necessary to earn the coveted red

feather that would make us Red

Squaws following in the camp tra-

dition of Native American lore.

“When we became Red Squaws

they made us put cloves under our

tongues after the council fire cere-

mony and we weren’t allowed to

talk for the rest of night,” recalls

Kathy. Looking back, I realize the

counselors were no fools. What a

great way to keep us quiet.

At the path to the lake, from top, camp cookBen Pierce, counselor Severin Palydowiczand Diane Quinn, and below, a look backat a live performance on the lake. Bottomof page, unidentified groups of campers.


Kathy DeLuca Pugliese is now a

certified teacher and lives in Clifton

with daughters, Jacqueline and

Victoria and works as a bar manag-

er in Woodridge. Her brother Victor

is the mayor of Maplewood, where

he and his wife Janey live. Last year,

he was inducted into the Boys Club

Hall of Fame for his contributions to

camp and the Boys Club. DeLuca

has been active in politics and civic

affairs for a long time.

Vic DeLuca attended Camp

Clifton from 1966 to 1969 and start-

ed working as a kitchen boy. He

remembers the historic moment in

July of 1969 when the first men

walked on the moon. “We had all

the kids in the dining hall to watch

this historic event on an old, cruddy

black and white television. The pic-

ture was so bad, all we saw was

moon snow. Godzilla could have

been walking on the moon for all we

knew,” Vic remembered.

He shared his first camp cabin

with Bob Lipala, another Hall of

Fame inductee. Bob, known to

campers as “Magoo,” worked in

every capacity at camp before

becoming the camp’s director.

“Those years – 1967 to 1969 -

were the Golden Years at camp, a

time of peace, love and happiness,”

said Bob at a mini-reunion held this

July at the Grande Saloon with

camp alumni Keith Oakley, Ray

Kalas, Tom DiDonna and Karen

Dominick. Upon seeing Bob for the

first time in decades, Karen

exclaimed, “It’s Mr. Camp Clifton!”

With plenty of grass, woods and

water, Camp Clifton was a welcome

respite for city kids.

“I went to camp to catch frogs,

turtles and snakes,” Bob said. “I

would finish my work in the

kitchen, walk down to the lake,

catch these creatures and bring them

up to the nature shed.” Not surpris-

ingly, Bob would become the nature

counselor, a position he loved.

Looking over an old copy of the

camp newsletter, Wocanda’sWhisper, Bob mused at his own

writings from so long ago. “Those

words were obviously not from

someone looking for a paycheck or

a 9-5 job. They were from a way of

life, a special way shared by all the

campers. It was a happening, a

‘Woodstock of campers.’ Feelings

were meant to be alive and shared –

coldness and detachment seen as

problems to be overcome.”

Bob knows a great deal of Camp

Clifton’s history and credits Al

Abruscoto for having the foresight

to get funding to buy the camp in

1961. “I’m grateful to have experi-

enced and shared all of those feel-

ings in my lifetime – even if was a

long time ago. There was a special

outpouring of love then and love is

its own reward.”

Bob is now the treasurer of the

Mens Club of the Clifton Boys &

Girls Club and lives in Lake

Hopatcong with his wife Rosemary

and their children, Nick and Sara.

He and his family still appreciate

nature and rent a cabin in Stokes

State Forest every Father’s Day.

Another fellow Boys Club Hall

of Famer is Tom DiDonna, whose

connection to Camp Clifton is

roundabout. Tom claims, “Al

Abruscoto took a chance with me. I

was a goof ball, always in trouble.

When I stopped terrorizing kids at

the Boys Club, he gave me a job at

camp.” He recalls being paid $100

for the entire summer of 1969.

At the time, Tom was working at

Good Deals, a supermarket located

where Corrado’s Market is today,

and had to take a leave of absence to

work at camp. “Your brother Ernie

[Generall] was in my cabin. He

Campers Tom DiDonna, Karen Dominick, writer Julie (Generalli) Dominick, Robert Lipala, Keith Oakley, Ray Kalas.

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gave me a run for my money.”

Being a wise guy himself, Tom

knew how to handle tough kids.

Tom came to Clifton after living in

Paterson and at one time lived in the

house next to Juliano’s Pizza, the

building that is now the Grande

Saloon. “My mom was a single par-

ent and the Boys Club provided a

safe place for me to grow up.”

Tom met his wife Karen at Good

Deals and they still reside in Clifton

and have two daughters. He was a

delivery driver for DHL for 18

years. Tom also coaches Clifton

Stallion soccer. “Everywhere I go, I

hear people say, ‘Hey Coach!’ It’s a

good feeling knowing you made a

difference in a kid’s life.”

Keith Oakley’s connection to the

Clifton Boys Club is generational

and legendary. His mom, Mary,

was the secretary at the club and his

dad worked at the club in many

capacities. His brother Wayne and

sister Cindy also attended.

Keith likes to brag: “I was one of

the first kids to see Camp Clifton

when the Boys Club bought it, and

one of the last adults on the proper-

ty when it was sold.”

Keith taught Indian lore at camp,

which he learned from visiting the

National Museum of the American

Indian in NYC as a teenager. “I

wanted to learn traditional Indian

lore and how to make crafts so the

experience would be more authen-

tic.” His ultimate honor as a young-

ster was when he was inducted as an

honorary Golden Chief wearing a

full headdress and war paint stand-

ing near the camp fire. He was more

recently inducted into the Boys Club

Hall of Fame.

Now Keith is an active alumni

member and a busy dad. He has

four children and two grandchil-

dren. He worked for Air Chek

Window Depot in Clifton for years

before retiring.

As for Ray Kalas, I think he came

to the Saloon out of curiosity. He

did go to the Boys Club and worked

at camp for a short time. He and I

had a five-minute romance in CHS

and it was great to see him again,

looking healthy and fit. One of

Ray’s camp memories includes

waking up to Paul McCartney’s

“Uncle Albert” as it was blasted

through the PA system early in the

morning. He now lives in Morris

Township with his wife and has a 20

year old daughter. Ray is a

Communications professor at the

County College of Morris.

So many campers, so many cher-

ished memories. The more alumni I

talk to, the more stories I hear...

Mrs. Oakley playing Santa Claus

at the winter reunions. Counselors

sneaking out to the Milk Barn for ice

cream. Bags and bags of caramel M

& M’s which were donated to the

camp because they ‘melted in your

hand.’ Henry Sabot asking, “Do you

want to go on a bear hunt?”

58 COLOR


Russ Triolo singing “The End”

by Jim Morrison. My sister Vicki

getting thrown in the lake by Dave

Rainone because she was afraid of

its orange murky water.

Singing “Miss Ol’ Leary put a

Lantern in the Shed” in the dining

hall as loud as possible. The

DeVries family, the Vladicheck

family, The beautiful MacVicker

sisters, Severin Palydowycz, Wally

Joblanski, John Mullan, Steve

Sneizak. The list goes on…

Sitting across the table from my

camp friends at the Grande Saloon, I

realize that you couldn’t find six

more different people. Yet once we

began to share our camp memories,

it was clear that there was a connec-

tion between us that had been sealed

around a burning campfire many

years earlier. We will always be

connected - to a time and a place

that was so special to each one of us

and to the many others lucky

enough to have sat around that same

campfire. ‘Till we meet again.’

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These photos were taken at a2009 reunion at CampClifton and attended byalumni from the 1980’s.

There were lots of reasons

people found tranquility

as a camper at Camp

Clifton. Perhaps it was

because you could just

be who you were and at the end of

every night when lights went out we

were all together no matter what.

Your trunk of clothing and gear

and a squeaky bunk bed now defined

who you were as an individual. We

were all equals. I do not think anyone

cared what troubles you may have

been facing at home... a divorced

family... a financially struggling fam-

ily... a family who had someone off in

the military... All of those labels did-

n’t matter at Camp Clifton.

You would walk down the com-

mon path and sing songs as a team so

the next cabin knew you were passing

by and they would try to out sing you.

It was fun, plain and simple.

Being at Camp Clifton was life

altering as everyone had to learn the

skills that many children would never

be introduced to. I mean they certain-

ly don’t teach you archery in elemen-

tary school, the parts of a row boat,

how to survive hiking the

Appalachian Mountains or go rafting

or canoeing down the Delaware River.

These were all skills we picked up

at Camp Clifton... it was just like rid-

ing a bike, once you learn them you

will never forget them.

Story & photos by Collette Kennedy

It was a Safe Placein the Crazy 80’s



61

COLOR

Story & photos by Collette Kennedy

It was a Safe Placein the Crazy 80’s


Meeting new people every two

weeks taught us social skills and

the ability to constantly adapt to

new situations and personalities;

how to ‘work things out’ and

become one cabin for that session.

We swam, hiked, played kickball,

kept a clean table in the dining hall

together. It was a bond, a bond for

at least two weeks—for most of us

it was six weeks—a bond that was-

n’t mean to be broken and it wasn’t.

Looking back, it is apparent our

friendships were real... There was-

n’t Facebook then to ‘friend’ just

anybody, not cell phones to text

message, not even computers or

internet to stay in touch.

Despite that all, we kept lifetime

bonds. My niece’s Godfather is my

brother’s (Kevin Kennedy) fellow

campmate (Scott Wagner). Penny

Vareha married Josh Gross, Sue

Gogick married Brian Gruchacz

and the list goes on and on.

Two decades and several moves

later I was working at Kean

University in the Chemistry

Department and looked out the

window to see Amy Lindemann

The 2009 reunion committee, Kevin Kennedy, Lauren Carlet Szumita, Collette Kenn

edy, David Carlet,

Amy Lindemann Castillo, Sue Lindemann Burman,

Joe Criveli, and the late Joe Balega.


walking by. I kind of froze... I was

afraid that the labels of child-

hood—I thought of myself as the

‘camper with the divorced par-

ents’—would come back to me at

age 37! But then I remembered

that while at Camp Clifton, the

labels don’t exist.

Once we connected it was like

the 20 years had not gone by. We

laughed through camp songs and

memories. Within a month we said

it would be great to have a reunion.

In 2009 that reunion came to be

thanks to connections that were

reestablished from Facebook and

the leadership of Joe Crivelli. A

committee was formed and we

were able to rent the old Camp

Clifton grounds (now Camp

Jefferson) and host a one day

reunion.

It was amazing to be at the old

camp and see old friends, as many

looked exactly the same.

Campers brought their kids who

‘earned their feathers,’ we built a

huge camp fire, sang songs, walked

the grounds and were amazed at

how close the pavilion really is...

Who knew the temporary stages

set on skit nights in the pavillion

would become the platform for the

impact Camp Clifton would have

on all of us for the rest of our lives?

As I wrote this essay, I was also

packing to take my 7 year old

Godson Jacob Baker camping.

“My dad thinks it is going to be

really funny to watch you start a

camp fire,” he said.

Have confidence, I told him,

because many years ago at Camp

Clifton I learned how to start a

fire... and I would teach him, too.

Then I shared how I nurtured

these skills when I was a few years

older than he on hikes on the

Appalachian Trail. How I built a

fire at night to cook the food we

carried in our backpacks and the

same was true when we went

canoeing or rafting down the

Delaware River, the only trick to

that trip was being sure nothing got

wet or ruined if your canoe flipped.

I am happy to report that the

campfire was a success. On the last

night, we found a single feather lay-

ing on the ground. It was a feather

of a Blue Jay—I guess Jacob really

did earn his ‘blue feather.’

Collette Kennedy went to CampClifton from 1983-1988. She attendedcollege later than most and graduatedin 2008 with a Bachelor’s inManagement Science and a Minor inRecreation Administration.

She hopes that ‘my second careercan be working a summer camp for kids(unless I hit the lottery and I can buyCamp Jefferson and turn it back intowhat we had) or working at a Boys &Girls Club since the B&GC had such aprofound impact on my childhood andhelped shape who I am today.’



A Somber Memoryof Camp Clifton

The late Joe Balega, in July 2009, with Joe Crivelli (

right) at Camp Clifton.

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Reconnecting with the

Camp Clifton crew

unleashed a flood of

memories and emo-

tions. A troubled, intro-

verted, and lonely kid, Camp Clifton

was the one place on earth that I felt

like I fit in. It was the one place where

I could be welcomed as one of the

“cool” guys.

On my first day at camp I was wear-

ing a tee shirt with the ubiquitous

bunny logo. When teams were being

selected for a basketball game, one of

the counselors said, “Hey you—

Playboy—you’re on this team.” The

name stuck. For the rest of my years at

Camp Clifton I was Playboy. I relished

that nickname.

There was one common denomina-

tor for all of us who attended Camp

Clifton in the 1970s—Joe Balega.

When I first started going to camp

Joe was one of the older campers, a

senior camper really. He had made

“Warrior”—the highest honor

Story by Joe Crivelli


A Somber Memoryof Camp Clifton

It was Facebook that got the ball rolling…connecting

me first with co-workers, then folks from high school

and college. Then Camp Clifton. It was a blast to

reconnect with people who had been absent from my

life for decades and find that we had all evolved into

responsible adults with homes, kids, jobs.

The late Joe Balega, in July 2009, with Joe Crivelli (

right) at Camp Clifton.


that could be bestowed on a Clifton

camper and was on a path to be a

counselor once he was old enough.

He knew the ropes and was respect-

ed and admired.

Joe and I were a stark contrast.

He was driven, focused, confidently

moving through his life towards

goals. If you asked him back what he

wanted to be when he grew up, he

would tell you he wanted to be a

lawyer. Joe Balega kept his nose

clean and stayed out of trouble,

walked the straight and narrow. A

model camper. A model kid. A clean

cut young man.

Joe Balega was the one who

broke the news to me and my fellow

campers when Yankees catcher

Thurman Munson died in a plane

crash. We sat in stunned disbelief

while Joe Balega openly cried for the

loss of one of his childhood idols.

Me, I got in trouble. I smoked.

Brought magazines that were associ-

ated with my nickname to camp.

Snuck off to the girls’ side of the

camp late at night to rendezvous

with girlfriends. Basically ignored

the rules and annoyed the powers-

that-be that ran the camp.

My last year at camp I was 15 and

working as a Counselor-in-Training,

and though it was never formally

stated that I wouldn’t be welcomed

back the next year as a counselor, it

was clear to me that I shouldn’t

apply. The next summer I would find

a new camp to try my act at. It would

last one year. After that, I spent my

summers lifeguarding at pools in and

around Clifton. My camping days

had come to a close.

Joe Balega continued to work at

Camp Clifton for many more years,

touching many more lives. When we

all reconnected on Facebook, it was

no surprise to me to learn that Joe

Balega had gone to Rutgers and

become a lawyer. Now living in

Ohio, he was a single dad to three

boys. And dozens if not hundreds of

former campers who had their lives

touched by him as a kid were over-

joyed to reconnect with him.

Joe Balega drove the fur-

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thest to attend the Camp Clifton

reunion. He was engaged to a beau-

tiful woman. His law business was

doing well. He seemed genuinely

happy. All of us were thrilled to see

him again, and even more thrilled to

see him open the reunion council

fire —a Camp Clifton tradition. We

all said goodbye as darkness fell and

the fire burned down and we made a

pledge to meet again a few years

hence.

Fast forward to April 1, 2010. It’s

morning and I’m settling into my

routine at my office, when I get an

email from Amy Castillo, one of my

new-found friends from the Camp

Clifton Reunion. “Joe, call me

ASAP. It’s important.” This was odd,

and not at all like Amy.

Sobbing uncontrollably, Amy

broke the news to me that the previ-

ous morning, Joe Balega had been

found in his home, dead of an appar-

ent suicide. Once again, I sat in

stunned disbelief. Not Joe Balega.

That’s not possible.

If you had asked me my impres-

sion of Joe at the reunion, I would

have said, “He’s happy.” He seemed

genuinely happy to be there, gen-

uinely happy with his life. He was all

smiles, as were his sons. My lasting

memory of Joe and his family was

that they were joyful. My lasting

memory of Joe as a teenager was that

he had his act together. He was one

of the good kids. He was universally

nice and kind to everyone.

Others concurred. In a recent con-

versation, Renee Ilaria Woods, a

classmate and fellow camper, said,

“I didn’t see someone who was

struggling the day of the reunion—I

saw someone who was filled with

joy, pride and promise for the

future.” Amy Lindemann Castillo

added, “I think if Joe could be in

such a place, anyone could. He had

an amazing impact on all of us.”

We really didn’t know each other

all that well. A few summers spent

together at camp. A few months

spent planning a reunion as adults.

But his life touched mine. He treated

others well, and he did so simply

because he was a genuinely good

guy. He seemed to me one of those

rare people who didn’t have a mean

inclination in his being.

He was the absolute last person I

would have expected to do this. And

the irony is that if he had asked any

of us from the Camp Clifton crew for

help, if he had called any of us on

that fateful night, we would have

been there for him. I think there are

probably a hundred people from

camp that would have driven all

night or hopped on the first flight to

Ohio to sit by his side, talk him

through whatever dark demons were

haunting him, convince him that he

was loved and needed—by his sons,

by his family and friends, and by us,

to open that next council fire at that

next reunion.

This year, on the one year anniver-

sary of that horrible day, a number of

folks from camp posted on Joe’s

Facebook page. “Grateful for the time

we had. Heartbroken for the time we

won’t. Too many tears, not enough

memories. Have a peaceful rest. I

look forward to catching up.”;

“Camp Clifton on the brain today—

thinking how amazing it was to have

a reunion and reconnect with every-

one, feeling lucky to have had those

experiences...and missing you terri-

bly, Joe Balega”; “I miss you Joe —I

think of you so very often. Xoxo”

And the most heartbreaking post

of all, from one of Joe’s sons, which

simply said, “Hi dad.”

Some have kicked around the

idea of another reunion, but the idea

of a reunion without Joe just seems

so incomplete. In many ways, Joe

Balega was Camp Clifton. If only we

had known. If only he could have

found the words, the word, to ask for

help.

So many troubled kids spent sum-

mers at Camp Clifton—myself

included. So many kids who you just

knew were going to have a hard time

making their way through life.

But not Joe.

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The First Annual John Greco Memorial Golf Outingwas a success. Over 300 golfers attended the July 11

event at the Knoll Country Club. Greco, who was a

teacher at CCMS, as well as lacrosse coach at MSU,

passed away last November. In his memory, the Greco

family created a fund and scholarships have been award-

ed to MSU lacrosse players who are studying teaching,

as well as CHS lacrosse alum who are pursing a higher

education. Details and photos at johngreco.dyndns.org.

Russell Triolo, CEO of the Boys & Girls Club of Union

County, was named executive of the year by the Garden

State Chapter of The Professional Association of Boys &

Girls Clubs. Triolo began as a Program Director at the

B&G Club in Garfield in 1973 and was named the Chief

Executive Officer of the B&G Club of Union County in

1980. Since then, the Union County Club has grown

from a single facility serving 2,000 children to five club-

houses that today provide services to over 7,500 children

annually. Triolo is an alumni of the Boys & Girls Club

of Clifton, and a 2009 inductee of its Hall of Fame.

CHS Class of 1971 member Keith Oakley (pictured

rear, left) is Chair of the Board of Trustees of the Passaic

County Elks Cerebral Palsy Center. Oakley and Joanne

Stolarz (rear, right), President of the Elks Special

Children’s Committee, were recently recognized for

their service by parents and other Board members.

C L I F T O N Pe o p l e …

CHS Senior Eric James was one of 2,250 young men andwomen selected to attend the Naval Academy SummerSeminar program this summer. The six day program is forhigh achievers entering their senior year of high school andconsidering enrolling in the US Naval Academy.


In October of 1998, SohailMohammed told the CliftonMerchant: “I would like to see

a time when my name can be taken

as it is, and I am not considered to

be a terrorist.”

That time came on July 26 when

Mohammed became the first Indian-

American and second Muslim to sit

on a bench in New Jersey.

He was sworn in as a Passaic

County Superior Court Judge by

Retired Assignment Judge Robert J.

Passero, who inspired Mohammed

to pursue a legal career back in the

late 1980’s after he had served on a

jury in Passero’s court. He was

nominated for the post in January by

Governor Chris Christie.

Mohammed story reads like a

modern day American journey. He

came to this country and became a

citizen in 1986. He and his wife set-

tled in Clifton and became active in

the community.

Not long after his experience as a

juror, he quit his job as an engineer

to enroll in Seton Hall University to

study immigration law. He began

practicing in 1993, and has been

awarded numerous accolades. In

1995, he was one of just six attor-

neys in the nation who were award-

ed a scholarship to attend the nation-

al leadership conference for young

lawyers. Then in 1997, Mohammed

won the New Jersey Young Lawyers

Professional Achievement Award.

Following the attacks on the

country on Sept. 11, 2001, Christie,

then US State Attorney, contacted

Mohammed to serve as an ambassa-

dor between the state’s Muslim

community and law enforcement

officials.

Mohammed had previous experi-

ence as an ambassador for the

Muslim community, speaking at

seminars to ease tensions long

before the Sept. 11 attacks.

However, such history did not

dissuade detractors on the internet

and elsewhere from challenging the

nomination.

Attackers criticized Mohammed

for representing individuals that

were detained following Sept. 11,

and questioned whether a devout

Muslim judge would bring Sharia

law—Muslim religious code—into

the American courts.

Despite detractors from across the

country, Christie, a Seton Hall Law

School grad himself, stuck by his

nomination, voicing support in news-

papers and at the July 26 ceremony in

the Passaic County Courthouse.

“It’s just crazy, and I’m tired of

dealing with the crazies,” Christie

said on July 29 in the Star-Ledger.“It’s just unnecessary to be accus-

ing this guy of things just because

of his religious background. I’m

happy that he’s willing to serve

after all this baloney.”

Clifton

Court

Indian

an eng

and wo

Cl

M

Co

Our Oct. 1998 edition focused on ourcity’s evolving ethnic diversity.Among those featured included LuisaCastillo, Richard Smith, SophiaConstandinou, John Pogorelec andSohail Mohammed.

A JOURNEY TO JUSTICE


Over the last few months, essays by Dr. Christopherde Vinck have been featured in our magazine. His sto-

ries have been wonderful tales, some which reach back

to his childhood to convey an emotion and others that

share his observations of life today.

A graduate from Teachers College, Columbia

University, Dr. de Vinck (at left) is better known as the

Language Arts Supervisor at Clifton High School. But

his inspiring and reflective essays have appeared in the

Wall Street Journal, the Record and many major nation-

al publications. Thus, we are pleased to welcome him

as a regular contributor to our pages.

As the author of 13 books, his best known work

is The Power of the Powerless (Crossroad Books) a

loving and frank reflection on the struggles and

joys of loving his severely disabled brother.

This past month, Moments of Grace: Days of aFaith-Filled Dreamer was released and hailed for

its insight and wisdom. Readers will find inspira-

tion and hope in this accessible book,” wrote one

reviewer. “It will strike a chord in these difficult

times.” To order the book, call 1-800-218-1903 or

look for it in major bookstores or online.

C L I F T O N Pe o p l e …


In addition to being a Realtor with ColdwellBanker, Colleen North can now add author to her

resume. The Cliftonite has recently published a book

about her father, William North, entitled Florida Artists,WM North, His Life and Art.

Colleen always remembered her father as a business

man who was usually enroute to New York City for the

start of his work day by the time she was out of bed for

school. But over the years, she learned that her father

was a budding artist whose interest in the field stretched

back to his own childhood.

Growing up in The Great Depression, William’s fam-

ily was unable to afford sketch pads, and he would draw

on the scraps of paper and cardboards that came inside

his father’s shirts from the laundry.

William would spend several years harnessing his

emrging talents while focusing on raising his family. His

dream was to eventually become a full time artist, some-

thing that William achieved in 1990 after he retired and

moved to Florida, where he now resides. There, William

dedicated himself to oil painting, found his muse and

became a renown artist, selling more than 600 original

works and receiving numerous accolades along the way.

His works have been on exhibition in various galleries

over the past 40 years, and his paintings are in hundreds

of collections across the United States and abroad, from

Japan to Russia.

William, who will be 84 in September, has been liv-

ing with Age Related Macular Degeneration for more

than three years, which affects his vision. Before his

sense of sight completely deteriorated, he wanted to

complete one last goal: publish a book about his artistic

endeavors, a dream which William had expressed to his

daughter for the past decade.

Colleen undertook the task, found a publisher and set

out writing what William calls his ‘legacy book’, learn-

ing much about her father in the process. The book can

be purchased at Amazon. com or other outlets.

THE ARTIST &HIS DAUGHTERColleen North and herfather, William

From top left: William North, a painting ofColleen as a baby, and Colleen North today.


The Second Annual Walk a Milein Her Shoes event is Sept. 24 in

Jubilee Park, Allwood and Clifton

Aves. Men, along with other sup-

porters, will don high heels for a

walk around the park to protest

rape, sexual assault and gender vio-

lence. Sponsored by the Passaic

County Women’s Center, registra-

tion begins at 10 am and the walk at

11. A limited amount of womens

shoes will be available at the event.

The Passaic County Women’s

Center (PCWC) is a non-profit

organization that provides various

domestic violence and sexual

assault services for our community,

and is open 24 hours a day year

round. To enter the event, register

at pcwcwalkamile.dojiggy.com.

For info on the services of the cen-

ter, write [email protected]

or call 973-881-0725

The Athenia Veterans Post ClassicCar Night is on Mondays, 5 to 9 pm

through the end of September at the

Post, 147 Huron Ave. Entry is free,

and there is a menu with a selection

of BBQ food. The Post will also

hold its annual Labor Day Picnic on

Sept. 4, from 1 to 6 pm. Tickets are

$20 for this all-you-can-eat and

drink event. Call 973-778-0931.

The Clifton Rocket Club will

begin its fourth eight week session

in September. Children of all ages

learn how to assemble a toy rocket,

which is launched more than 1,000

feet into the air with assistance

from Deputy Fire Chief Norm

Tahan, who oversees the club. A

total of 18 kids have turned out for

the club, which meets each Sunday

from 10 am to noon. The $25 fee

includes a rocket kit with engines.

For more info on the and other pro-

grams offered, call the Rec Dept. at

973-470-5956.

The Clifton Family Camp Outwill take place overnight on Aug 19

starting at 6 pm at Albion Park on

Maplewood Ave. Families can pitch

tents or sleep under the stars but

either way, the idea is to spend some

time outdoors together. Staff from

the Clifton Rec Dept. will host a

cook out with hot dogs and ham-

burgers, followed by games and

activities, campfire, marshmellow

roasting and more. The fee is $10

for a family of four or $3 per person;

$20 for a family of four for non res-

idents. Raindate Aug. 26.

The Second Annual Walk a Mile in Her Shoes event to fight rape, sexual assaultand domestic violence will take place on Sept. 24 in Jubilee Park, 1365 Clifton Ave.

973-772-8451Roofing • SidingSeamless Gutters

Additions • Alterations

C L I F T O N Ev e n t s …

The Take Back the Parks cleanupproject continues on Aug. 6 Nash

(Lexington and Piaget), Aug. 13,

Chelsea Park (Chelsea and

Brighton), Aug. 20, Surgent Park

(Valley Rd.) Aug. 27, Lowry &

Delawanna Memorial (Main and

Delawanna) Cleanup begins at 10

am so bring gloves and a water bot-

tle. The Rec Dept. program Play It

Forward offers gently used bags of

bats, balls, frisbees and other gear

for families to enjoy for free at a

designated park each day from 6 to

8 pm. The list is as follows: Aug. 1

and 15, Washington, Aug. 2 and 16,

Lakeview, Aug. 3 and 17, Albion,

Aug. 4 and 18, Mt. Prospect.

St. John Lutheran Church, 140

Lexington Ave., Passaic, will hold a

thrift sale on Aug. 6 from 9:30 am to

1 pm. For info, call 973-779-1166.

Cliftonite Parrish Durham was

awarded the silver medal at 2011

AAU National Taekwondo

Championships on July 2 in Austin,

TX. Competing in the 12 to 13 year

old division in a competition

involving each of the 50 states and

Puerto Rico, Durham came up just

short of his gold medal goal, which

would have landed him on the AAU

Cadet National Team. He will have

another chance in February at the

2012 US Open Championship in

Las Vegas. Durham attends CHS

where he is a Fighting Mustang and

trains under the direction of his

father Elliot at Quality Martial Arts

on Van Houten Ave.

The CHS Keystone Club will hosta blood drive on Aug. 22 at the

Boys & Girls Club bingo hall on

Colfax Ave. from 3 to 8 pm.

Keystone Club President Kelly

Hanrahan, the CHS senior who

coordinated the event, will receive

$250 from Community Blood

Services towards her college tuition

for every 25 donors. Donors will be

screened on site and given refresh-

ments afterwards. Eat a meal before

hand. Call1-866-228-1500.


The Second Annual Walk a Milein Her Shoes event is Sept. 24 in

Jubilee Park, Allwood and Clifton

Aves. Men, along with other sup-

porters, will don high heels for a

walk around the park to protest

rape, sexual assault and gender vio-

lence. Sponsored by the Passaic

County Women’s Center, registra-

tion begins at 10 am and the walk at

11. A limited amount of womens

shoes will be available at the event.

The Passaic County Women’s

Center (PCWC) is a non-profit

organization that provides various

domestic violence and sexual

assault services for our community,

and is open 24 hours a day year

round. To enter the event, register

at pcwcwalkamile.dojiggy.com.

For info on the services of the cen-

ter, write [email protected]

or call 973-881-0725

The Athenia Veterans Post ClassicCar Night is on Mondays, 5 to 9 pm

through the end of September at the

Post, 147 Huron Ave. Entry is free,

and there is a menu with a selection

of BBQ food. The Post will also

hold its annual Labor Day Picnic on

Sept. 4, from 1 to 6 pm. Tickets are

$20 for this all-you-can-eat and

drink event. Call 973-778-0931.

The Clifton Rocket Club will

begin its fourth eight week session

in September. Children of all ages

learn how to assemble a toy rocket,

which is launched more than 1,000

feet into the air with assistance

from Deputy Fire Chief Norm

Tahan, who oversees the club. A

total of 18 kids have turned out for

the club, which meets each Sunday

from 10 am to noon. The $25 fee

includes a rocket kit with engines.

For more info on the and other pro-

grams offered, call the Rec Dept. at

973-470-5956.

The Clifton Family Camp Outwill take place overnight on Aug 19

starting at 6 pm at Albion Park on

Maplewood Ave. Families can pitch

tents or sleep under the stars but

either way, the idea is to spend some

time outdoors together. Staff from

the Clifton Rec Dept. will host a

cook out with hot dogs and ham-

burgers, followed by games and

activities, campfire, marshmellow

roasting and more. The fee is $10

for a family of four or $3 per person;

$20 for a family of four for non res-

idents. Raindate Aug. 26.

Parrish Durham won a silver medal ina national Taekwondo Championship.

CHS Senior and Keystone ClubPresident Kelly Hanrahan.


Girl Scout Troop #107 of St. Philip the Apostle School earned their Bronze Awardby beautifuying an area at Morris Canal Park. Troop members planted flowers,painted and put up a new fence and added decorated rocks and bird houses.


Former Mustang roundball coachPete Vasil has added an additional

week to his annual MVP Basketball

Camp at St. George’s Greek

Orthodox Church on Valley Rd.

Camp will run from Aug. 22 to 26

and is open to children ages 7 to 16

for a rate of $75. Vasil, now the

head coach at Group 1 state power-

house Bloomfield Tech, teams up

with his son, Pete Jr., a junior

ballplayer at Brookdale College, to

train kids from 9 am to 3 pm each

day. Call Vasil at 973-930-8331,

his wife Angela at 862-668-1450 or

email [email protected].

Running coach Joel Pasternackhosts his fifth annual cross country

camp from Aug. 22 to Aug. 26 at

Brookdale Park in Bloomfield from

6 to 8 pm. Cost is $125 or $100 if

three members from the same team

sign up. Visit joelrun.com.

The Clifton Road Runners Clubemerged victorious from an inter-

club challenge against the at

Brookdale Park on July 17. In two

separate events that day, the CRRC

defeated the Essex Running Club

and then bested the Rose City, The

Do Run Runners, Geezers, and

North Jersey Masters. Runners start

according to five-year age groups

in two-minute increments but all

finish on one clock, and each run-

ner completes three 1.1 mile loops

of the park. The Clifton Road

Runners began in 1978 and is a

member of the state governing

body United States Track & Field-

NJ. For two consecutive years,

2009 and 2010, CRRC ranked 2nd

Overall Team within USATF-NJ

standings. For info on membership,

write [email protected].

These campers enjoyed their time at Pete Vasil’s Basketball camp earier this sum-mer. Pictured at center is the coach’s son, Pete, Jr.


The Clifton Road Runner Club after winning an interclub challenge on July 17.


Former Mustang roundball coachPete Vasil has added an additional

week to his annual MVP Basketball

Camp at St. George’s Greek

Orthodox Church on Valley Rd.

Camp will run from Aug. 22 to 26

and is open to children ages 7 to 16

for a rate of $75. Vasil, now the

head coach at Group 1 state power-

house Bloomfield Tech, teams up

with his son, Pete Jr., a junior

ballplayer at Brookdale College, to

train kids from 9 am to 3 pm each

day. Call Vasil at 973-930-8331,

his wife Angela at 862-668-1450 or

email [email protected].

Running coach Joel Pasternackhosts his fifth annual cross country

camp from Aug. 22 to Aug. 26 at

Brookdale Park in Bloomfield from

6 to 8 pm. Cost is $125 or $100 if

three members from the same team

sign up. Visit joelrun.com.

The Clifton Road Runners Clubemerged victorious from an inter-

club challenge against the at

Brookdale Park on July 17. In two

separate events that day, the CRRC

defeated the Essex Running Club

and then bested the Rose City, The

Do Run Runners, Geezers, and

North Jersey Masters. Runners start

according to five-year age groups

in two-minute increments but all

finish on one clock, and each run-

ner completes three 1.1 mile loops

of the park. The Clifton Road

Runners began in 1978 and is a

member of the state governing

body United States Track & Field-

NJ. For two consecutive years,

2009 and 2010, CRRC ranked 2nd

Overall Team within USATF-NJ

standings. For info on membership,

write [email protected].



CHS Classes of ‘71-74 host a a joint

reunion on Nov. 4 at the Parsippany

Hilton from 7 pm to midnight.

Tickets are $99 and include cocktail

hour, buffet dinner and desert, four

hour open bar and DJ. Details at

www.reunions-unlimited.com.

The CHS Class of ‘56 has a 55th

reunion on Sept. 23 at the Cucina

Calandra in Fairfield. Call or write

Judi Zagaya Den Herder at 973-779-

6923 or [email protected] or

Terry Guarrera Gloede at 973-773-

5910 or via [email protected].

Members of the CHS Class of ‘01have their 10 year reunion from 7 to

11 pm on Nov. 26 at the Park Ridge

Marriot. Ticket are $65 for the first

100 people; $70 for those who reg-

ister after. For details, visit

www.chs2001.rsvpbook.com.

CHS Class of ‘66 will gather on the

weekend of Nov. 18-20 for its 45th

reunion. There is a Friday night

social and a Saturday evening dinner

dance at the Regency House Hotel in

Pompton Plains. For info, go to

Facebook (Clifton HS Class of 66)

or call organizers Nancy Maurer

Mudd (201-723-0402) or Jackie

Sussman Schein (201-303-7033).

The Hamilton House Museum,971 Valley Rd., hosts a family Civil

War lunch on Sept. 17 at noon.

Julie Esty will give a presentation

on the dress, daily activities and

customs. The event is a part of a

commemoration of the 150th

anniversary of the start of the Civil

War. Cost is $22.50. The Museum,

a restored Dutch Farm house is

open most Sundays from 2-4 pm

($3 donation). Call 973-744-5707.


This photo is from an exhibit atLambert Castle entitled HonoringPassaic County’s Civil War Veterans.Info at www.lambertcastle.org.


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Happy Birthday to Yuko Angello on Aug. 15. Emily Hawrylko celebrates on Aug. 12. Charlie ‘Tato’

Stek will be 90 on Aug. 6. Tom Hawrylko turns 54 on Aug. 15. Robbie Lucas will party on Aug. 25.

Angelo Greco ....................8/2Karen Lime ........................8/2Michael Urciuoli .................8/2Kevin Ciok.........................8/4Mark W. Mikolajczyk .........8/5Theresa Raichel ..................8/5Christina Sotelo ..................8/5Ed Gasior Sr. .....................8/6Sean McNally....................8/6Charlie Stek .......................8/6Chiara Cristantiello.............8/9Jean Schubert.....................8/9Danielle Swede ................8/13Andrew Cronin ................8/14Kimberly Mozo ................8/14Michelle Smolt..................8/14Christopher Antal .............8/15Peter Bodor......................8/15

Jessica Oliva....................8/15Maria Pinter.....................8/15Susan Van Blarcom...........8/15Daniel Wolfe....................8/15Bella Bulsara....................8/18Alexandria Veltre..............8/19Michael Melendez............8/20Rachelle Swede................8/20Emile Oakley ...................8/22Jacke Neering..................8/21Cara Cholewczynski .........8/24

Yasmin Ledesma ...............8/24Joanne Pituch ...................8/24Robbie Lucas....................8/25Dolores Bonkowski............8/25Veronica Tanski ................8/26Eileen Gasior ...................8/26Cameron J. Popovski.........8/26Ann Soltis ........................8/26Adam Brandhorst .............8/27Peter Fierro, Jr. .................8/28Nicholas Swede. ..............8/29Michelle “Mish” Choy .......8/30Joe Rushen.......................8/30Kathleen McKenny............8/31

Birthdays & CelebrationsSend dates & [email protected]

Best wishes to E. Bernadine Boyarsky who celebrates a birthdayon Aug. 3. • Nancy & Mike Ressetar mark their anniversary onAug. 15. • Bruce & Diane Drake will be wed 41 years onAug. 22. • Belated congratulations to lifetime sweethearts Ken

& Donna Chipura on their 40th anniversary which was July 11.• Belated birthday salutations to Lee Ann Varga on July 29.


Happy Birthday to Yuko Angello on Aug. 15. Emily Hawrylko celebrates on Aug. 12. Charlie ‘Tato’

Stek will be 90 on Aug. 6. Tom Hawrylko turns 54 on Aug. 15. Robbie Lucas will party on Aug. 25.

1036

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Lisa Hojnacki and David

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The Clifton Veteran Parade FundBeefsteak is on Aug. 19 from 6 to 10

pm at the Clifton Boys & Girls Club

on Colfax Ave. Tickets are $40 and

include beefsteak, beer and soda.

Funds will help pay for the city

annual Veteran’s Parade, on Nov. 6

at 2 pm. The parade steps off at

Sylvan and Main Aves. and contin-

ues through Downtown along Main

Ave. to the Clifton Veterans

Memorial Monument where there

are ceremonies and speeches. Make

checks payable to ‘Clifton Veterans

Parade Fund,’ and mail c/o John

Biegel Jr., 91 Market St. 1, Clifton,

NJ 07012. To contribute to the fund,

for tickets, or to otherwise help out,

call John Biegel at 973-519-0858.

Over 1,400 American flags will be

displayed on the campus of city hall

on Patriots Day, Sunday, Sept., 11.

The idea is to honor a veteran for their

time in service and to remember them

in perpetuity. The flags are put up and

taken down by volunteers, who also

do year round maintenance. The flags

are also on display on Memorial Day,

which is the last Monday in May; Flag

Day, June 14; Independence Day, July

4; and Veteran’s Day, Nov. 11. To

honor a living or deceased veteran,

purchase a flag for $100. The dona-

tion includes a name plate and a

ground socket. The vet’s name, branch

of service and the donor’s name will

be placed in the registry book. Call

John Biegel at 973-519-0858.

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Luis Cruz

Clifton Merchant Magazine - August 2011

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Transcript of Clifton Merchant Magazine - August 2011