YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

A tale of brunch, bombs, and gentrification in an American city

Edited by Joseph Barry and John Derevlany

Photos by Ken Clare

Big River Publishing, Hoboken, N.J.

All photos by Ken Clare except the following:Page xvi: Poster courtesy of Jim Hans and the Hoboken HistoricalMuseum; reproduction by Ken ClarePage xix: Photo by Benedict J. FernandezPages 20 and 34: Photo by Steve RubinPage 88: Photo by Bob FosterPage 158: Photo by Benedict J. FernandezCover shot inspired by a 1985 Hudson Reporter photo by Colette Winters.

Book introduction and chapter introductions written by JosephBarry and John DerevlanyCover and book design by John Derevlany

YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME, A tale of brunch, bombs, and gentrification in an American city.Copyright © 1987 by Big River Publishing. Printed and bound in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval sys­tems without permission in writing from the publisher. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review.

Published by:Big River Publishing 1321 Washington Street Hoboken, N.J., 07030 (201)798-7800.

To order additional copies of this book, write to the above address.

ISBN 0-944421-01-6

Library of Congress Catalog Number: 87-82140

First printing, Sept. 1987.

ContentsAcknowledgements...vii

Prologue... vili

Introduction... xiv

Chapter One: A Landlord, a Tenant, and a Dead Butcher...2

Chapter Two: Who Are You Calling Hip?...8

Chapter Three: Here Come the Yorkies!...14

Chapter Four: Eggheads, Lesbians, and Punkrockers... 20

Chapter Five: What’s the Difference Between Ronald Reagan and an Old Pair of Sneakers?... 34

Chapter Six: Politics: In Desperation, the People of Hoboken Opt For Comic Relief...48

Chapter Seven: The Yuppies Strike Back...70

Chapter Eight: KABOOM! It’s the Feast!...88

Chapter Nine: Write Your Congressman about those Italians... 106

Chapter Ten: Of Grape Squeezers and Urinal Cleaners...124

Chapter Eleven: All’s Fair in Love, War, and Letters...138

Chapter Twelve: If the Reebok Fits, Wear it...152

Chapter Thirteen: Another Rampage? It Must Be Labor Day Again...158

Chapter Fourteen: Feast or Famine?...168

Epilogue...176

AcknowledgementsThe authors wish to thank the following people:

Everybody at The Hudson Reporter newspapers who helped in the creation of this book, especially Lucha Lupinacci, Pat Spina, Wendy Hester, Chris Mitchell, and Danny Altilio;

Leigh Ann Carr and Dave Unger, who have contributed greatly to The Hudson Reporter newspapers;

Elizabeth Phillip, Linda Sokolski, Merry Hammer, and Karin Adamietz for bringing their extraordinary editing skills to the por­tions of the book written by the authors;

Julie Miller, Sheila Buff, Alden Prouty, and Michelle Gluckow for their guidance through the unknown realms of the book publish­ing industry;

Michael Winerip of The New York Times for his encouragement in this project, and his recognition of Hoboken’s plight;

Molly McNees of St. Mary’s Community Health Center, Hoboken, for sharing her insights on the letters;

The librarians at the Hoboken Library, Samuel C. Williams Library of Stevens Institute of Technology, Jersey City Library (main branch), and New York University’s Bobst Library, all of whom go out of their way to assist in the research of any project, large and small;

Gerry Donnelly, Tara O’Leary, and Linda Sokolski who posed for two photos used in the book;

Cathy Talvy and Arleen Portada who posed for photos that weren’t used;

Joe Barry’s wife, Gail, and children, David, Michael, and Lisa, who always stood by him;

John Derevlany’s family, including his mother Pierrette, father Michael, sister Louise, brother Michael, and brother-in-law Mark;

Everyone else who offered suggestions, encouragement, dis­couragement, sympathy, free food, or helped out in some way or other during the creation of this book;

And to the residents of Hoboken, the best-humored and most good-natured people in the world, who have never been afraid to speak their minds.

The Hoboken Reporter (circ. 17,000), a weekly newspaper Hoboken, N.J., receives some 1000 Letters to the Editor each year.

viii YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

Prologue

gentrify, -fied, -fyirtg: to convert (an aging area in a city) into a more affluent middle-class neighborhood, as by remodeling dwell­ings, resulting in increased property values and in displacement of the poor—gentrification.

Webster’s New World Dictionary of the American Language, 1986

"Whither Hoboken?” The New York Times asked in 1967. "Are there the makings of a Greenwich Village, Brooklyn Heights, or Georgetown?"

Even then, some thought this hopeless, leftover orphan of the in­dustrial age could magically stumble into the path of the avant- garde, the chic, the young and affluent. But to many people at the time, Hoboken, N.J., was not a city—it was a punchline, a place synonymous with Nowheresville. In a 1971 survey, 70 percent of the residents had lived in Hoboken 10 years or longer. More than half expressed a desire to leave.

Over the next 15 years, an incredible real estate boom swept the municipality. Developers converted nearly one fifth of the private rental stock to condominiums, and boutiques, cafes, and frame shops opened next door to the rundown "mom and pop" stores. People weren’t making firn of "Ho-Ho-Hoboken" anymore. As The Washington Post proclaimed in 1976, this born-again waterfront town had become the "national model to America’s ugly cities."

But during the 1980s, an anxious cry of protest arose in the wake of the "renaissance." Week after week, the victims of gentrification attacked and bemoaned the "new" Hoboken, spilling their souls in Letters to the Editor of The Hoboken Reporter, the local weekly newspaper.

Yuppies invade my house at dinnertimeDear Editor:

I ’m a Hoboken resident for 35 years, losing my home to Yuppies.

Seeing these weird people with sneakers and dresses every morning dashing for a crosstown bus just turns my stomach. But please have some compassion for my privacy. Realtors coming to show my apartment at suppertime without notice is unpleasant. Again I have to see sneakers and dresses and men with shoulder bags and cameras only in my house at my special time. Give me a break—or a little advanced notice.

Thank you.Once lived on a tree-lined street

July 9, 1986

Response to "Once lived on a tree-lined street"Dear Editor:

It is unfortunate that "Once lived on a tree-lined streetff,s stomach turns on a daily basis when he sees Yuppies dashing for a crosstown bus in the morning. Perhaps he should examine his break­fast more closely in the future.

As for interruptions during dinnertime, the problem appears to be with the realtor rather than with the people who come to see his apartment.

If he is really upset at losing his home, why doesn’t he come out and say so instead of clouding the issue with name calling and mud- slinging? Hoboken has enough problems, both internal and exter­nal, without its citizens lashing out at each other. It is high time that everyone in this town (the Mayor and ALL the council mem­bers included) realize that the rampant backstabbing that seems to be the fashionable sport here is counterproductive and downright self-destructive. The final upshot of this behavior is that Hoboken will never realize its rightful potential and we will have no one to blame but ourselves.

R. Nader July 23, 1986

Right to live in HobokenDear Editor:

In response to R. Nader’s letter to "Once lived on a tree-lined

street," I once lived in Hoboken.My building was sold, my rent tripled, and after 18 years in my

apartment, I was forced out. My family helped to build Hoboken. I have roots in Hoboken from the very early beginning. Too bad I can’t enjoy living there any more.

I am not welcome into the restaurants or old haunts that I used to visit with my friends. (We are all professional people, not bums!) We no longer "fit in".

Hoboken is now a cold city. What happened to my neighborhood? My rights were ignored and so were so many others. Being dis­placed is a terrible thing to do to people.

There is and always will be resentment towards those who "took over our neighborhoods." Yes, Yuppies didn’t move in, they took over.

Hoboken people were the hard working laborers. Now they, we, us, and I can’t afford to live in my town, our town.

Where do I and these others like me go when you take over my new home? Out in the streets like so many other displaced people are, or will I be "burned out" one night like so many other people whose homes were gone as a result of "suspicious fires." It’s scary facing those odds. So understand that we were scared for our lives as well as our homes.

It hurts to lose everything.Realize, we are people too. People you don’t approve of! You

resent!Until you can understand our plight, there will always be resent­

ment. We can’t live in peace together if you won’t allow us to live at all.

A.D. Emahs Aug. 6, 1986

Yuppie apologizesDear Editor:

In response to "Once lived in Hoboken," we so-called "Yuppies" are sorry for taking over your town, but what do you want from us? We didn’t know that the landlords in Hoboken were so desperate for money that they would do anything to get you people out of the city. We just want a place to live just like you. How do you think

we feel being treated like we are millionaires, having to pay such high rents for a cheap run-down apartment in "Hoboken.”

Palmer Monroe A "Yuppie" Citizen

Aug. 31, 1986

Some thoughts on the venom-filled conflict between newcomers and oldtimersDear Editor:

Once upon a time there was a real estate agent who managed to lure some New York friends to the shores of Hoboken with promises of everything New York had and more, except the astronomical rents. This was equivalent to the shot heard ’round the world. This shot started a Civil War right here in little ole Hoboken.

I have been reading venom-filled letters to the editor for years. From the bom and bred and the newcomers. I must shamefully admit that I too harbored some of the feelings as most of the B&Bs (Bom and Breds). I was forced to move out of town due to the es­calating rents and prices of homes. At the time this made me very bitter and I blamed the "Carpet Baggers" who used our hometown to their own advantages and viewed the "local yokels” as prehis­toric neanderthals who lucked out by cashing in their lottery ticket from the instant real estate windfalls.

After living out of town for the past two years, I have begun to look at this split in Hoboken’s citizenry a little more objectively. For me the move out of Hoboken was a blessing in disguise as things have been going wonderfully for my wife and me. I still work in Hoboken and I see these hostilities in a different light. Per­sonally, I ’ve had my fill of all this in-house bickering if you will, and no two bit letter to the editor is going to change these differing opinions the two groups have for each other. If the energies we put into these malicious letters were spent in a more constructive area we may all be the better for it.

In closing, I would like to add the B&Bs feel one way and the newer residents another and until we can come to understand each others feelings and live and work in harmony, The Hoboken

Reporter will continue filling its pages with inane, redundant letters like this one.

Hey Palmer, can I buy you a beer?Matthew Buoncuoro

Sept. 21, 1986

Yuppies will also be displaced eventuallyDear Editor:

In response to "Once lived in Hoboken," I too once lived in Hoboken, that was before I was forced out by a suspicious fire. I lost everything I owned. If you yuppies wouldn’t pay such high rents, knowing that people before you were paying low rents, we never would have lost our homes. It’s too late to do anything about it now, but one day a new generation will want to move in and I hope you people suffer as much as we did.

Sonia Rodriguez Aug. 24, 1986

Hoboken, N.J., the Mile Square City (pop. 45,000).

xiv YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

Introduction

Armed with federally-financed loans, post-World War II America fled the cities for Life on the Lawn. By 1970, more of the country’s population lived in suburbs than anywhere else.

Manufacturers soon joined the exodus, leaving the dying urban areas for cost-efficient single-story factories. By the end of the ’70s, some 20,000 shopping malls had been built nationwide to replace the downtown retail centers.

For the urban escapees, the metro center was a "concrete jungle," a violent wilderness harboring every social and economic ill im­aginable—crime, drugs, racial unrest, disease, and pollution.

But in the mid ’70s, a generation of suburban youth began finding their hometowns severely lacking in such city-type features as desirable apartments, efficient public transportation, cultural and entertainment centers, and other like-minded young people. At the same time, white-collar financial and service industries blossomed in the ruins of the post-industrial metropolises. For many college- educated, middle-class baby boomers, the urban areas meant jobs, money, culture and adventure-a lifestyle so much more dynamic and exciting than many of them had known before.

As more young men and women—and money—poured into the cities, rents increased dramatically in the desirable areas, and new­comers sought apartments in less expensive, marginal locations. At this time between two and three million people annually moved into neighborhoods residents couldn’t escape fast enough a decade earlier.

When the affluent emigres first entered the "aging areas" of American cities, the media dubbed them "pioneers," "urban homes­teaders," and "settlers" who would conquer the untamed wilderness of the latest frontier.

According to Geography Professor Neil Smith of Columbia University, this bold "frontier spirit" defines the American charac-

ter as much today as it did 100 years ago. The "pioneer" imagery helps legitimize what he terms "the process of conquest."

"In the language of gentrification," Smith stated, "the appeal of frontier imagery is exact: urban pioneers, urban homesteaders and urban cowboys are the new folk heroes of the urban frontiers."

Whether it be the harsh prairies of the 19th-century American West, or the concrete jungles of present-day urbana, a "frontier wilderness" often includes natives as part of its "savage" landscape. Neither the American Indians nor the longtime city residents wel­comed the "civilization" of their homeland without a fight.

Life and death of the Mile Square CityOnce a backwater tidal swamp, Hoboken flourished throughout

the 19th century, fueled by the cheap labor of Dutch, German, Irish, and, eventually, Italian immigrants. By 1910, some 70,000 people lived in this mile-square municipality, cramming into block after block of sturdy brick and stone dwellings.

A bustling port across the Hudson River from New York City, Hoboken hosted the world’s grandest vessels at its piers. Shipping magnates and robber barons built turreted mansions on the hill over­looking "their" waterfront. From this vantage, called "Castle Point," the city spread out to the cliffs of the Palisades in the west, up

Like much of Hoboken* s once-thriving waterfront, this former shipyard lies desolate and inactive in the 1980s.

north towards Weehawken, and south towards Jersey City. Smokes­tacks punctuated the industrial skyline, 270 saloons lined the downtown streets, and railroad tracks cut through the city, bringing the bounty from Hoboken’s docks to the rest of the world.

Soon after World War H, the city’s economy started to wane. One by one, the big manufacturers deserted the area for sprawling in­dustrial parks in southern and western Jersey. Formerly the cornerstone of Hoboken’s commerce, the dormant factory buildings became hollow, crumbling relics of another time. Among the many major employers who left in the ’60s were the engineering com­pany of Keuffler and Esser, American Sweets (makers of Tootsie Rolls), and Lipton Tea.

Paying the price for its rapid, chaotic development in the 1800s, Hoboken allowed little room for expansion. When containerized shipping required more space than the city’s docks could offer, the waterfront economy collapsed. By 1971, the thriving port had dwindled to a single cargo pier.

The daytime working population of Hoboken decreased from its

peak of 100,000 in World War II to 15,000 in 1975. Departing busi­nesses took with them about 1000 jobs a year during the ’60s and early ’70s.

At this time, Hoboken’s unemployment rate was twice the nation­al average. It had the highest per capita welfare rate, the lowest median educational achievement levels, and the lowest incomes in the state. Ninety percent of those with jobs worked as unskilled laborers for $2.50 an hour or less. One-fifth to one-quarter of the residents collected welfare. About three-fourths of the population never completed high school.

In addition, Hobokenites had significantly greater rates of heart disease, respiratory disease, tuberculosis and diabetes than those anywhere in the state. The city also boasted one of the largest birth rates in New Jersey, accompanied by a correspondingly high il­legitimacy and infant mortality rate.

"Hoboken today is a city without wealth, with enormous backlogs of capital improvements and service requirements and with few prospects for correcting the situation," the city’s community development agency reported to the federal government in 1967.

State statistics claimed there were 1000 active heroin addicts in Hoboken, and most people believed it. A 1971 survey found Hobokenites’ greatest concerns were about drugs, crime, and final­ly, the poor condition of housing.

According to city records, some 49 percent of Hoboken’s build­ings were substandard in 1970. Nearly half lacked complete plumb­ing facilities, and 70 percent had no central heating. Hoboken’s housing situation was ranked as the worst in the northeast and fourth worst in the United States among comparably-sized cities.

More than a dozen people died in suspicious blazes during the early ’70s, while another 56 perished, mostly in alleged "arson-for- profit" disasters, a few years later. The majority of the fire victims were children.

Puerto Ricans, the latest immigrants, made up 40 percent of the population by 1970. Like every previous new ethnic group in town, they provided an abundance of cheap labor. Only this time there was little demand for it. As the city’s economic base collapsed, the Puerto Ricans found themselves with a 40 percent unemployment rate—twice as much as the rest of the city. Things were bad, and doubly so for non-whites.

xviii YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

The remains of the "Barbary Coast" a rowdy, three-block strip of several dozen bars on the Hoboken waterfront. A few years after its demolition in the late ’60s, 25-story towers were built on the site.

Fed up with the short end of the economic stick and recurring police brutality, the Puerto Ricans held sit-ins, demonstrations, and a few sorry marches dubbed the "Hoboken Riots." Taking their cues from nearby Newark, the Hispanics hurled rocks, bottles and firebombs. They broke store windows and stampeded through downtown streets. In the summer of 1971, homemade incendiaries and window-smashing caused $100,000 worth of damage in blighted Hoboken.

The few remaining longshoremen counter-rioted, claiming the mayor was going too easy on the Hispanics. Many of them demanded to be deputized and issued guns to shoot the Puerto Rican youths. Mayor Louis DePascale, in a moment of great prin­ciple and little politics, refused and had the dispute mediated. He reached for immortality attempting a sensible solution to the racial crisis. By the next election, he was history.

Alas, Hoboken was a melting pot whose contents never melted, a lumpy ethnic stew that grew more bitter with age.

Rebirth: the Mile Square MiracleUrban decay and social unrest notwithstanding, Hoboken had one

remaining virtue intact—it’s proximity to New York City. Industry may have died, but Hoboken’s newest business—real estate—was about to emerge. The city would never be the same again.

Around 1976-77, someone proclaimed a "renaissance" in punch- drunk Hoboken. Articles began appearing in every paper from The Wall Street Journal to The Washington Post to The Miami Herald about the "Mile Square Miracle." "Hoboken, the target of bad jokes, shows how to make good," and "Once dismal Hoboken having last laugh," they announced to the nation.

Hoboken seemed to have it all—transportation that made it more accessible to midtown Manhattan than most parts of New York City, cheap rents, good food, small-town charm. Why, it even looked like Manhattan, with its rows of 19th century brownstones. And, as a local dentist once told The New York Times, "Living in Hoboken is camp." The city was so unfashionable it was in style.

Slowly, the area moved out of its economic backwater, becoming a mecca for punk rockers, suburban divorcees, and tri-state-area

A sign on the site of The Skyline, a highrise luxury condo proposal boasting New York views and easy access to Manhattan.

xx YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

Graffiti on the door of a local Hoboken building.

kids calling themselves artists—many of them children of parents who had struggled to escape neighborhoods like Hoboken only a few years before. Longtime inhabitants invited in the young, sneakered pioneers, enticing them with cheap rents and the promise of an easy commute.

More and more people ventured to this latest ’’frontier" of the New York area. They opened health clubs, gourmet shops, singles bars, and art galleries. For the most part, the young settlers didn’t throw anyone overboard—they just kind of eased their way in slow­ly, gently, with kinds words and good thoughts...Then came the condo.

Property speculation and development propelled real estate prices through the roof.

Hoboken contained 41 condominium apartments in 1981. By the end of 1986, one fifth, or nearly 2000 units of the private rental stock in the city, had been converted to condos. Most cost between $100,000 and $200,000. Only a few years earlier, entire brownstones sold for $40,000 or $50,000.

Newly renovated buildings throughout the city bore a ubiquitous

lure: "Luxury Condos For Sale." Knee-high "Open House" signs cluttered the sidewalks on weekends. Some 40 real estate offices prospered, and it seemed anyone living in Hoboken long enough- including teachers, laborers, professionals, politicians, artists, rich and poor, young and old—peddled property at one point or another. Even the Hobokenites who high-tailed it out in the early ’70s returned to open realty firms.

All told, the development and redevelopment, sale and resale of property, was about the only industry Hoboken had. In the early 1980s, it boomed.

Young professionals, most making $50,000 a year or more, filled the condos, according to several surveys by The Hoboken Reporter. The majority of them worked in New York, shopped in New York, spent their leisure hours in New York, and read New York newspapers. By and large, they led a New York-oriented lifestyle. Most moved to Hoboken not because of anything inherently attrac­tive about the city but because it was convenient to somewhere else—New York.

Renovation of a brownstone in the early 1980s.

xxii YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

While many of the new breed were married, few had children. Their average age was between 25 and 35. More than half planned to relocate within five years, turning their condos over to other up- wardly-mobile transients.

Much like their predecessors, Hoboken’s latest immigrants came to the area because the New York metropolitan area was the vortex of opportunity. But unlike the Irish, Italians, and Hispanics, they ar­rived wealthier and more educated than many of the locals.

Previously, the established residents were the first to climb the socio-economic ladder, leaving the lower-paying jobs to be filled by the latest ethnic group in town. At least this gave the appearance of upward mobility for inhabitants.

But the cycle stopped when the suburban newcomers arrived, al­ready a financial notch or two above the rest. Suddenly, bom and raised Hobokenites couldn’t afford real estate in their own neighbor­hoods. A few even found themselves homeless.

The latest arrivals—many from Long Island, rather than Ellis Is­land—also didn’t bring an Old World with them. "This city’s al­ways been a home of immigrants," a bom-and-raised Italian Hobokenite once said. "First there was the Germans, then the Irish, then the Italians and then the Puerto Ricans. Now, for the first time, there are Americans in Hoboken. And no one knows how to handle it."

Unlike the past, when the longtime residents viewed immigrants as less than human ("One white man is as good as two or three Italians," an Irish longshoreman said in the early part of the cen­tury), the natives found themselves the focus of condescending glan­ces from the newcomers.

Reaction: the letters page of The Hoboken Reporter

In the 1980s, the threat of displacement, real or imagined, per­meated the Mile Square City. Under siege from inside and out, the Hoboken natives resounded a war cry in letters to the local newspaper. They howled and whined, groaned and scolded, and screamed endlessly for mercy from the invasion. Scalping new­comers with words, the oldtimers channeled their fears into threats, insults, and a few long-winded lamentations.

As the frontier got more crowded, some of the pioneers joined the protest, themselves fearful of losing their own culture and identity as discoverers. Sooner or later, everything made the letters page of The Hoboken Reporter.

The weekly newspaper started September 23, 1983. A month and a half later, it bought out the Hoboken Pictorial and six other papers, a local chain on its last leg.

Nearly 17,000 copies of each Reporter issue are distributed free door-to-door and in newspaper boxes, stores and City Hall. A 1986 survey showed more than 90 percent of Hoboken’s 45,000 people read the tabloid. In March 1987, The Reporter went semi-weekly.

The paper receives between 10 and 50 letters a week, or about 1000 a year—a large amount for a publication of its size. An ever­growing number of people in Hoboken feel the need to bare their soul in writing—a medium used less and less by the average person. Some employ big words and well-turned phrases, while others scrib­ble emotional tracts on everything from Hoboken’s lack of parking to nuclear war.

While many of the letters are comments on local politics and com­munity affairs, most express an underlying insecurity and hostility related to the recent influx of younger and higher-income residents to this old city. Some of the submissions are point-blank diatribes

Brownstones on Hudson Street in Hoboken.

on the vast changes in Hoboken and the so-called "Great Divide" between newcomers and oldtimers. Others mention the subject in a totally irrelevant context. For instance, a letter writer may claim a yuppie or native is directly responsible for inefficient trash removal, poor public transportation, or any other disaster, large and small, in the entire universe.

A published correspondence frequently prompts several replies, which are then debated for the next few weeks (or months). The dialogue of the letters usually follows this pattern: statement of gripe; remarks on both sides of the original opinion with references to oldtimers and newcomers; further statements articulating explicit allusions to the gentrification issue; a call for peace; and finally, an attempt to sum everything up and analyze the issue and the larger problems facing the city.

The letters come m a variety of shapes, stationeries, and degrees of legibility. All but a few are signed, though many writers request anonymity because of Hoboken’s small size and the potentially volatile issues addressed. The Reporter prints nearly every opinion received with a minimum of editing to retain indigenous grammar and slang.

The following letters were published in The Hoboken Reporter . over the last four years. Several were shortened, but are otherwise intact. Headlines, which were not used in the paper until late 1985, have also been added to earlier correspondences. For the most part, the letters are reprinted in chronological order, with the exception of comments referring to specific issues. These are organized together in order to preserve the letter-writers’ line of argument.

Here, in their own words, is what happened to the people of Hoboken. It is a story of a community in transition, of new and old, of discovery and displacement. It is about people never afraid to speak their mind, no matter how outrageous or unsettling their thoughts may be.

From families to real estate to politics to lifestyles—nothing es­capes the opinions of Hobokenites or the claws of gentrification. It’s a confrontation that is often funny, sometimes sad, frequently offensive, but always revealing. And it’s not only happening in Hoboken, but all over America, where once-dying cities face rebirth, and a "renaissance" that obliterates as much as it rejuvenates.

Hoboken tenants protest an impending rent hike.

2 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER ONE

A Landlord, a Tenant, and a Dead Butcher

A letter to my landlordDear Editor:

Here’s a letter I never mailed to my landlord:Dear Mr. Landlord:

I know how difficult it was for you to dispossess me from the reasonably priced Hoboken apartment I rented from you, and I lived in happily, paying my rent on time, for over seven years. I know you feel bad, because your wife told me so when she promised to ask your lawyer if I could have more than thirty days to get a place and move out.

I realize also the difficulty you must have to maintain your good- guy image which you need to continue to make a lot of money on the community. And so I am sorry that by asking my friends and neighbors for help in finding an apartment, you were put in a bad light. I know how bad you feel about that because my lawyer told me that you might get your own lawyer because I ’m "bad-mouth­ing" you.

It’s also too bad I couldn’t just leave, so you could establish residence and free the whole house-because after all, many people are "making a killing" in Hoboken. As one realtor put it, he came from Boulder, Colorado to Hoboken fourteen months ago because "This is the hottest little comer in the United States." So, why shouldn’t you start working on your first billion? {Fortune magazine doesn’t even list millionaires like you anymore.)

Unfortunately, I can’t just fade away like lots of my neighbors who found themselves in the same predicament—I’m too young to go to an old people’s home, too old to go back to my parents; I can’t afford to buy a house—and I have pets. (My neighbor told me

I should get rid of my cats, start dealing in cocaine, and then I ’d be sure to pass muster and land the best condo in town.)

I wonder what ever became of that old man who owned the butcher shop around the comer for about 40 years who had to get out to make way for another antique shop? I’m told he died a few months after he gave up the store. I often wonder what he really died of—but no matter, he really wasn’t the Hoboken image—his hair wasn’t designer cut; he never owned an attache case, three- piece suit, or Walkman head set. Besides that, he didn’t even "act Hoboken"—he probably never consulted a lawyer in his entire life, never built an extension on his house, bought a croissant or evicted a tenant.

I know what’s wrong with me! I spent too damned much time trying to become a writer and make enough money to survive; and too much money helping suffering animals and righting injustices. I should have listened to my landlord, who once told me, "If you don’t have money, you’d better beg, borrow or steal it." After all, money is what it’s all about in the new Hoboken.

Repentant Ex-Hobokenite Nov. 9, 1983

A letter to my tenantDear Editor:

Here’s a letter I never mailed to my tenant:Dear Tenant:

It was with regret that I asked for possession of an apartment in my own building for my own use. I had the choice of paying $700 a month for a similar apartment in the house of a stranger or simp­ly occupying an apartment in my own property. We had a mutually pleasant tenant-landlord relationship for seven years, even though you were frequently delinquent in paying your rent on time. It is in­teresting that you, good tenant, retained an attorney and I, your landlord, have not consulted legal representation.

It is truly difficult to maintain a good-guy image, but your landlord did try by paying you the sum of $1,700 to help you relo­cate. This money was readily accepted by you and your attorney.

My father came to Hoboken in 1902, and established our business in 1906. This family has continued said reputable business to this day thanks to the patronage of good Hoboken people. During this

time Hoboken has given us, and we, in every way, have given to Hoboken.

I wish that I could ease your burden, turn back the clock and make you younger, see you prosperous. However, this is an impos­sibility. In the seven years you occupied your apartment in my building, not once were you asked to remove your cats, which I un­derstand numbered up to twenty-five at times. I did not complain of the odors emanating from your three-room apartment, odors which permeated the house. I, too, love animals, but a three-room apart­ment is not meant to be a feline motel.

I know what’s wrong with me! I spent too much time bringing up a family, running a successful business, and caring for, with pride, a small piece of property in a town I love called Hoboken. All my life I have helped suffering animals and suffering human beings. %

Your landlord did not advise you, as you have stated, "If you don’t have money, you’d better beg, borrow or steal it." Money is not what it is all about in the new Hoboken. A dead city has had a rebirth brought about by concerned citizens, both tenants and landlords, working to make their lives better in a better environ­ment. That’s what it’s all about! Isn’t this what is truly the American way—the American dream?

A Non-Repentant Hobokenite Nov. 16, 1983

To the tenant: we did not kill the butcherDear editor:

As Hoboken residents and tenants of the antique shop referred to in the letter appearing in your November 9 issue (from the "Repen­tant ex-HobokeniteM), we were outraged at the innuendo in the ar­ticle. As tenants, we are also concerned about the residential problems in town, but the writer demeaned an otherwise valid point by her gratuitous swipe at the owners in question. The writer, having lived in the neighborhood for seven years, could not have helped but know that the suggestions in her letter had no basis in fact.

The most offensive portion of the letter insinuated that the butcher was evicted to make way for the antique shop, and that the eviction somehow killed him. First, the "eviction" was the result of a four-

year agreement between the landlords and the butcher. As for the profit motive, the landlords passed up far more lucrative rental op­portunities in order to open up the antique store they had wanted for years.

Second, and most significant, the butcher died of a serious illness, from which he had been suffering for a long time. This fact is com­mon knowledge in Hoboken, and exploiting his death to add drama to the letter was cruel.

We understand why the "Ex-Tenant" chose to remain anonymous.Enid Waxier McDonough

Brian F. McDonough Nov. 16, 1983

No more halcyon daysDear Editor:

When I moved into an apartment on upper Hudson Street eight years ago, it was hardly obvious that Hoboken was destined to be­come a sort of heaven for middle class urbanites. What Hoboken had going for it in those days was its people—a diverse collection of musicians, working class people, Stevens Tech types, assorted "crazies", etc.

Since those halcyon days, I have contributed to the "renaissance" of Hoboken by maintaining my apartment, supporting local busi­nesses, and participating in our vaunted cultural activities. Over that period, my rent has about doubled, within the bounds of the rent control law. When I reflect on the fact that my current rent is substantially below market value, I can't help but feel that I in some sense deserve to profit thus, as do the property owners, who have also contributed to the changes in Hoboken.

Hoboken’s renaissance was not caused solely by new plumbing and such, but also, to a large extent, by the fact that it is perceived to be safe and to offer a diversity of people and activities, which perceptions have been created by those who have invested substan­tial portions of their lives here-owners and renters alike.

Perhaps it is unrealistic to hope for fairness in a matter involving money; it can be argued that life is generally not fair. However, if we don’t try to make it fair, it never will be.

James C. Schneider Nov. 16, 1983

"Renaissance" Is still a rip-offDear Editor:

I would first like to welcome The Hoboken Reporter to the rapid­ly diminishing family of the Free Press hoping it will be an impar­tial advocate of Hoboken’s "Forgotten" working middle-class. We have the party of the first part, the live-in landlord, signing over his highly-taxed property to the party of the second part, the rapacious real estate sharpie, who in many cases doubles and, in some cases, triples rents right off the bat without so much as replacing a worn- out washer in a leaky sink. Then we have some argus-eyed state in­spector stimulating the confidence of the con-men by pinpointing some absurd violation such as painting the front of one’s abode. In a nutshell, the "Renaissance" by any other name is still a rip-off, conceived by a collection of well-connected cash-heavy caterpillars who think they are capitalist butterflies. One does not like to stand in the way of progress, but one must be practical at the same time.

Ralph Ruggiere Jan. 18, 1984

Two visitors to an art festival at the Hoboken train terminal.

8 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER TWO

Who Are You Calling Hip?

Up until the "Renaissance" of the late ’70s and early ’80s, most Hobokenites were foreign-born or children of foreign-born parents. Some 60 percent of the population claimed a language other than English as their mother tongue in the ’60s and ’70s. They had old customs, big families, and generations stretching back more than a century. Locked in a bowl between the cliffs, the tunnels and the river, the old world lived on. If anyone dared to shake it up, he must be from out of town.

Hordes of ‘hip’ househunters plague Hoboken like biblical locustsDear Editor:

The Torquemada of tough credit, Paul Volcker, Chairman of the Federal Reserve, has once again re-applied his tight-money tourni­quet thus resulting in another round of high interest rates and another era of unemployment. Unfortunately, his policies have not stopped the invasion of hordes of harried househunters from across the Hudson and the hinterlands who have descended on our tiny urban hamlet of Hoboken like a plague of biblical locusts. As regards the tyro homeowner and the high interest rates and the vul­nerable rent-paying tenant, many of the so-called "hip" avant-garde genre, supposedly wise to the ways of our wicked, wicked world, they simply lend credence to the cretin philosophy of P.T. Bamum who once remarked that there is a sucker bom every minute.

Yours truly, Ralph Ruggiere

July, 4, 1984

We’re not cretins or suckers, just tired of suburbsDear Editor:

May I reply to a recent letter by Ralph Ruggiere by saying—Come out of the dark ages, Mr. R.

My husband and I bought a condominium apartment here in Hoboken a month ago. Nevertheless, we do not consider ourselves "harried" or of a "cretin" mentality. And certainly, at our age, we are not "tyro" homebuyers as, sad to say, do we qualify as part of the "so-called hip, avant garde generation"-I don’t think I ever belonged to that "genre."

Dumb as it may seem to Mr. R., we left a home in suburbia be­cause we were tired of the toll (mental, physical and financial) of four hours commuting each day, were tired of a big house we never had time to care for or enjoy, and were tired of our lifestyle in general.

Here in Hoboken, we think we have found again the urban atmos­phere we were seeking when we left Wisconsin 25 years ago. Our apartment suits our new lifestyle and we don’t feel we were "suck­ers" for buying it. Especially considering the cost of housing in the suburbs. We like the multi-ethnic nature of the town and hope that its deteriorating housing stock will continue to be restored by funds both public and private.

We are productive people, work hard, pay taxes and don’t want to be relegated to the suburbs!

Thanks for your "welcome" Mr. R.Janet Civalor Aug. 1, 1984

Ech! The streets are stinky; we need more garbage cansDear Editor:

I have lived in Hoboken for a little over a year. The route I take to the PATH Station (to Manhattan) every day allows me to walk down First Street. Last summer and fall, when they were putting in the new, brick-inlayed sidewalks, I was excited for what spring would bring. I envisioned leisurely walks down a tree-lined street, the gentle sound of the breeze rustling the leaves as I walked to and

from work.Well, the trees are in, and spring is almost over, but First Street

hasn’t changed for the better—it’s changed for the worse. Stinking, rotting garbage is strewn everywhere. The air is filled with the stench. The level of filth has done nothing, however, to deter the hordes of people who loiter on the street, consuming more and ad­ding their garbage to what is already there.

It is unfortunate that people can tolerate such disgusting condi­tions. You would think the residents and frequenters of this area would take pride in this aesthetic improvement and make an effort to keep it clean. This would attract businesses and improve the whole standard of life in that end of town.

It’s a shame so much money, time, and energy were put into such a worthy project, only to have it look worse than it did before. We need more garbage cans and a greater, more conscious effort made by all to turn the tide on what is becoming a flood of disgusting garbage. Before we drown in it.

Sincerely, Chris Scorpio

July 4, 1984

What garbage? Where? You must be one of those elitistsDear Editor:

As concerns the letter from Chris Scorpio of 7/4/84, first of all, if you are walking along First Street to the PATH, you are walking up First Street. Secondly, while laying bricked sidewalks and plant­ing trees has made a vast difference, First Street is no more perfect than any other street in our city. But for you to claim stinking, rot­ting garbage is strewn everywhere, is a bloody lie! I have seen three, perhaps five people at the most, who have stopped to talk to each other, here and there. And, sometimes those groups are con­sisted of "outsiders." We are still permitted to stop and pass the time of day! As for stench, the only "stench" I have ever en­countered is that of the fish store. Did you want to do away with that, too?

You are obviously one of those who moved here, either for the "sense of community" or because of the proximity to the PATH. It

seems once you elitists move in, you then set about to change everything to your liking, including the names of our streets. Well, I am here to tell you there is no stinking, rotting garbage strewn anywhere along First Street. And, you really should not concern yourself too much with the "hordes" of people who will shortly be driven out by your ilk! In the meantime, I would suggest you take another route to the PATH, so that you will no longer be offended by something that isn’t even there.

Terri Ratti Aug. 22, 1984

We will soon be eating dog food for dinnerDear Editor:

Rents in Hoboken have reached such absurd heights that I foresee a day when future tenants will, after a hard day in front of a com­puter console or easel, come home and enjoy a repast of Alpo or Gainesburger.

I must admit that the menage a trois of bankers, developers and politicians has given the economy of Hoboken a temporary shot in the arm. In retrospect, so did a similar group do the same thing for Germany in 1933.

In an economy of words, I would say that Hoboken is being made subject to a sting operation; Code name: "Renaissance."

Ralph Ruggiere Oct. 10, 1984

I can’t find a parking space nearbyDear Editor:

In our house alone, there are three adults and three cars. Finding a parking space close enough to drag in a week’s worth of groceries is the least of our problems.

The first driver in our house is a man who drives to Newark daily and leaves by 8 a.m. He not only can find an 8 a.m. parking space, but can park in any part of town. The other two drivers are women and are not only afraid to venture to the less populated areas, but come home later at night. After the recent rape in town, we feel much more vulnerable about walking alone at night. Some say the

victim should have driven the two blocks home, but we all know she never would have found a spot to park.

Sincerely, Kat Brennan

Dec. 19, 1984P.S. I have no outstanding parking tickets.

There’s no parking because you out-of-towners took all the spacesDear Editor:

In answer to the letter in the Dec. 19 paper about parking in Hoboken.

First of all, why the hell is there three people living in one apart­ment, all with cars. That is one of the reasons there is no parking in Hoboken.

Second, as far as the rape goes, you are right. The girl should not have been walking home alone, and for another thing the man that raped the girl is in jail; not that it can’t happen again, but women should learn how to protect themselves. Also, if you don’t like the way it is in Hoboken, go back where you came from...you are also an out-of-towner.

Sincerely,Pat

A Hoboken Resident all her life Dec. 26, 1984

Printed as submitted.

Wall Street commuters enter the PATH, a 15-minute commuter train between Hoboken and midtown and downtown Manhattan.

CHAPTER THREE

Here Come the Yorkies!

In 1784, Colonel John Stevens paid $90,000 for 564 acres of Jer­sey swampland the Indians called "Hopaghan Hackingh" (Land of the Tobacco Pipe).

Decades before Frederick Law Olmstead designed Central Park, Stevens transformed the marsh into a pleasure resort for well-to-do New Yorkers. Thousands crossed the Hudson each weekend for its flowing esplanades, groomed Riverwalk, and views of the burgeon­ing Manhattan skyline. After the Colonel died in 1838, his family divided up the playing fields and auctioned off parcels to wealthy out-of-towners for what would eventually become the City of Hoboken.

Two centuries later, the Stevens spirit is very much alive in Hoboken, albeit on a smaller scale. Nowadays developers buy build­ings instead of land, rehabilitate them, and mince the property into as many luxury condo units as possible. Most of the apartments are then sold to non-Hobokenites at seemingly unlimited profits. For many, it appears the city is, and always has been, a place to be plundered by affluent outsiders.

Condominiums were alien to Hoboken before 1981. To the locals, they seemed like yet another invention of the "odious New Yorker," who had been delving into such things for years. Obvious­ly, the only person who would buy something as ridiculous as a condo ("Imagine, all that money and it’s only an apartment!") must be a New Yorker, or "Yorkie," as resentful natives called them.

While the ranks of Hoboken’s gentrifiers boasted numerous ex- Manhattanites, most of the newcomers hailed from Jersey suburbs, or other parts of the Northeast. However, many of them worked in the Big Apple and adopted more than one obnoxious New York custom, the oldtime Hobokenites believed.

The view of downtown Manhattan from Castle Point, Hoboken.

But that was in 1983 and 1984, before "Yuppies" entered the vernacular of the urban malcontent. In time, the Young, Upwardly - mobile Professional, not necessarily the "Yorkie" would be the all- around symbol and catchword for the scourge of gentrification.

What’s a "Yorkie"?Dear Editor:

This letter is a request to finding a missing person.In the past several months your readers have written with great

derision of "Yorkies" and "New Yorkers" who are invading their lit­tle town. Who are these people?

I have lived in Hoboken for three years, and being an outgoing, friendly person have a wide circle of friends and neighbors, and have chatted with many people in Hoboken’s stores, clubs, res­taurants, bars, library, parks, etc.

The vast majority of new Hobokenites I have come into contact with are from other areas of New Jersey.

Most of the other newcomers are young professionals and stu­dents who have relocated to the metropolitan area from another part

of the country (Delaware, California, Minnesota, Hawaii, Mas­sachusetts, for example).

If I have met a native New Yorker, he or she has yet to reveal it.None of this surprises me. The youngsters moving to Hoboken

from other parts of the state are thrilled to be so close to Manhat­tan, and don’t suffer from a New Yorker’s disdain for living "across the river." Those who have moved here from more distant points haven’t yet experienced that disdain, and in any case, are usually terrified of living in Manhattan. As for my friends who live in Manhattan, it’s an effort to get them to venture out for a cocktail party, let alone convincing anybody to live here.

Moral: if you are looking for a scapegoat, identify your target cor­rectly. None of the city’s problems can be solved, or dealt with ef­fectively if one faction doesn’t even know who the other faction is.

P.S. I hope someone will respond to this with a profile of a "Yorkie." If they exist I ’d like to meet one—maybe they’ll be friendlier than the natives.

Dorothy Hull Oct. 3, 1984

I’ll tell you what a "Yorkie” isDear Editor:

Re: Dorothy Hull’s letter concerning the search for "Yorkies" (10/3/84).

Based on some very elementary research, I am pleased to an­nounce the search is over, and "Yorkies" identifiable. They have certain characteristics in common but place of birth is not one of them; probably none are from "sidewalks of New York." The type migrates to New York and brings with them these characteristics which are so endearing.

They work in New York and live in Hoboken.They are generally "flunkies" by New York standards.They feel that the local provincials will be overwhelmed by a dis­

play of undistilled sophistication.They confuse a patronizing manner with charm.They would engulf our public institutions as cultural saviors.They seek special attention. Even in our small public library they

suggest certain books be stocked and reserved just for them.They cause stoppages in shopping lines while they hold court.

They have been a disappointment to many of their greedy landlords. And finally, Dorothy might fulfill her wish to meet a "Yorkie" by consulting a mirror.

Joseph Trimcellita Oct. 10, 1984

Being a New Yorker is a state of mindDear Editor:

Regarding Ms. Hull’s amusing letter of October 3 warning Hobokenites to identify the villains properly when looking for a scapegoat, I ’d like to point out that being a New Yorker isn’t really a geographical classification. Many insufferable New Yorkers come from places like Delaware, California, Minnesota, Hawaii, (especial­ly) Massachusetts, and East Jabib for that matter. Even "natives" grasp such obvious truths.

Being a New Yorker is, after all, a state of mind, something akin to senility or permanent, rutting adolescence—a near incurable malady which manifests itself most notably in an ill-justified sense of superiority and in an inability to distinguish reality from sham. Witness the horde of Yuppies and Radical Chic Yahoos rushing to the fore in the recent banning of Nukes from the confines of the Mile Square Miracle. Holy Mackerel, imagine the military in­dustrial complex conspiring to erect nuclear silos on the ruins of places like the Maxwell House factory, O’Nieal’s tavern, or Big­gies Clam Bar! (Admittedly, the loss of an institution like Biggies genuinely smacks of tragedy. What clams!)

Ultimately, though, Ms. Hull is right. It is virtually impossible to profile the quintessential New Yorker. But here’s a start: "amiable liberal wurst."

As for friendliness, if Ms. Hull wanted to bathe in the welcome wagon scene, perhaps she should have settled nearer the mythical environs of "Father Knows Best" or "The Brady Bunch." Besides, any denizen of Hudson County should realize Hobokenites often ex­press affection best in terms of abuse. Felix Unger would under­stand.

William Keller Oct. 17, 1984

Yorkies have flat heads .Dear Editor:

A response to Dorothy Hull’s letter regarding her request for a profile of a "Yorkie." Briefly, one of the many varieties of Canis familiaris bred in Yorkshire, England and prior to immigration a favorite of the landed aristocracy. It has a small, flat head; small, v- shaped ears, medium-sized dark eyes; a compact body and straight legs that are covered with hair. They certainly do exist and most are much friendlier than their fellow creature homo sapien, but to classify a "Yorkie" as a person depends wholly upon one’s dog­matic degree of devotion-after all, this is a dogma-eat-dogma world.

Yours truly, Ralph Ruggiere

Dec. 12, 1984P.S. I just couldn’t resist this one.

I’m proud to be a YorkieDear Editor:

Re: The "Yorkie" question. Shame on you Mr. Trimcellita for your name calling! I am a "Yorkie” and proud of it. Twenty-five years ago I left a little mining town in the West to pursue a success­ful career in the "Big City." Now, after a stint in the suburbs, I am here in Hoboken and enjoying every minute of it. Contrary to your opinion, I really am rather charming and the only "patronizing" I do is at the local businesses. I am nice to my neighbors, I never double park and I even clean up after my dog.

I guess I do see a "Yorkie" when I look in the mirror and I like what I see—maybe you’d like me too, Mr. T., if you looked at me a little more closely.

Jan Ring Dec. 26, 1984

One of Steve Rubin’s community photos, published July 1984.

20 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER FOUR

Eggheads, Lesbians, and Punkrockers

Although the upwardly-mobile newcomers brought with them new lifestyles, new money, and the threat of displacement, nothing seemed to scare some of the oldtimers as much as the their open­mindedness. After all, traditions die hard in Hoboken, a city whose history is one long ethnic/class conflict-a recurring tension be­tween the "old" immigrants and the "new" immigrants.

During the 19th century, Hoboken’s Protestant population fought with the newly-arrived, free-thinking Germans and Catholic Irish­men.

The Gaelics helped send "the Huns" fleeing for the hills amid the anti-German sentiment of World War I. Residents even went so far as to change the names ôf hamburgers to "salisbury steak," frankfurters to "hot dogs," and sauerkraut to "liberty cabbage".

The Italians, though slower to assert themselves, brought over enough relatives and friends from the old country to crack Hoboken’s Irish political machine.

A few years later, the Puerto Ricans rioted because there was lit­tle else they could do in this dying, post-industrial city. The Italians, knowing everything was wrong and the Puerto Ricans were to blame, retaliated with a pent-up vengeance that took on the vigor of a holy war.

Now, the latest immigrants had arrived, young and idealistic, and were willing to buck the tradition. Many seemed determined to respect everyone for what they were, regardless of race, color, religious background, or sexual preference. This baffled a few longtime residents.

The newcomers, though, were merely continuing their pioneer role in this urban "wilderness." Like the early American frontier

missionaries, they attempted to "civilize" the hostile natives, and en­lighten their ignorant brethren-not with theology, however, but with reason, rational thought, and egalitarian concepts. They scolded the oldtimers for both their "backward," "simplistic," view of the world, and the apparent disregard for their own city as it rotted away a decade earlier. In the end, though, the newcomers wound up challenging their own conceptions of such things as mar­riage and womanhood.

This missionary attitude, which first appeared in 1984, would pave the way for greater battles for dominance. But for now, with their economic superiority painfully obvious, the newcomers set out to establish their moral primacy.

Why so many photos of ethnics? We’re insultedDear Editor:

Your Reporter is for the birds, or rather for the businessman. It is nothing more than a classified supplement. You receive more money than you spend on your editions. The town news is certainly at a minimum and then you need a microscope to read it. The hell with the waterfront. The "special" people (who just arrived and are responsible for making it difficult to live in and chasing decent na­tives elsewhere) should take their screwed up life patterns and prac­tices.

You might also remind your photographer, Steven Rubin, that there are people other than black and Spanish living in this town. His photos rile us to no end. Are you obliged to take ethnic photos to prove that they are still in town? We natives do not have to be reminded. We’re very much aware of their presence.

Give us the good old Hoboken Pictorial which told the truth about the crooked politicians in town (the guilty ones objected), legible church organization news, etc., etc.

The nerve of you writing up on a black and white and calling them an average couple. We were insulted. You’re hard up for material.* Forget about it.

Augusta Schwartz and friends July 11, 1984

We’re not an average couple, we’re better than averageDear Editor:Re: Letter To Editor By Augusta Schwartz.I read with deep regret your letter to the editor, July 11, 1984.It is true that the format of the paper has changed as far as what

we are accustomed to seeing but, if it will keep people like you from reading The Hoboken Reporter, it’s a change for the better.

I would like to direct myself to a few, if not all, of the points you made in your letter.

Just because our races are different does not disqualify us from being an average couple. But that was the only point you made that I agree with. You see, we are not an average couple, we are better than the average couple.

In reference to the pictures, I am sure the photographer is well aware of the different nationalities in this city but isn’t it possible that natives like you do not frequent the parks or the playgrounds or where ever he’s taking the pictures? Also, I would like to sug­gest that you take another look at the pictures you have been criticizing and I ’m sure you will see races and nationalities other than Black and Hispanic. I ’ve also noticed that the spotlight isn’t usually focused on someone who is trying to run you out of town. From the implications in your letter, I am sure someone would think that of you.

While reading your letter I wondered why you would want to read about crooked politicians rather than positive and good things people are doing around town.

Although I am classified as a MINORITY, I thank God that people like you are truly the minority in this city, because times are difficult enough without having to constantly worry about the likes of you and your friends.

Sincerely, Elizabeth Falco

Aug. 1, 1984We’re another "screwed up" couple, Augusta, and you’ve embarrassed usDear Editor: 1

It’s obvious that you placed Augusta Schwartz’ cretinous letter at

the top of last week’s letters column in order to provoke a response, so here’s mine:

I guess I would qualify as one of Schwartz’ ’’screwed up” people, having moved to Hoboken from Atlanta some four years ago. I work in a Manhattan office, as does my wife (who is South American—sorry, Augusta, another "mixed” marriage). I pay nearly $500 a month for a small one bedroom apartment in a Washington Street building, complete with the occasional mouse, burglary, and a couple of "surcharges” which I think are illegal—but I ’m not com­plaining.

Why not? Because I like Hoboken. I ’ve lived in big cities and small towns, north and south, and I feel that Hoboken combines a lot of the best of both. Sure, it’s not Nirvana, but it’s comfortable, friendly, and has a terrific and exhilarating mix of people—despite some crime, dirt, graffiti, and rent gouging.

As a white guy, I feel embarrassed to read comments such as an Augusta Schwartz is capable of producing. I suppose that part of my reason for writing this is to say to the non-lilywhite community of Hoboken that hey, don’t judge all whites by the asinine ravings of some bigot. Amazingly, Schwartz managed to zap Hispanics, blacks, photographers, Yuppies, interracial marriage, and jour­nalists, all in the space of four paragraphs!

Well, anyway, my message is: Hoboken, remain diverse, Steve Rubin, keep snappin’, and all you folks at the Liberal Rag, keep writing what you feel is appropriate. I may not agree with every ar­ticle, but at least your layouts are clean and your grammar is cor­rect, which is far more than could be said for the late, unlamented "Pictorial."

One last, merciless aside to Augusta Schwartz: if being a "decent native" of Hoboken means developing attitudes such as yours, then I ’m damn glad I wasn’t bom here!

BUI Jolly Aug. 1, 1984

Bigots like Augusta kept Hoboken at the bottom of the heapDear Editor:

This letter is being written in response to the July 11 letter from

Augusta Schwartz to The Hoboken Reporter.The reason I ’m writing this letter is because I ’m sick of hearing

from ignorant bigots who have no tolerance for anything other than their own selfish needs.

First, I would like to point out that I am one of the "new” people in Hoboken. I can assure you, Augusta, that I do not have a screwed-up mind. My "life patterns and practices” are also quite normal. (Augusta, would your own practices stand up to moral scrutiny?) Let us not cast stones!

Second, speaking as a photographer, I find Steve Rubin’s photos exceptional for a small newspaper. His subject matter is obviously what he sees in Hoboken. He is only doing his job. Besides, Augus­ta, are you not from some sort of ethnic background? Are you sug­gesting that your ethnic roots are more photogenic than blacks or hispanics? Is it possible Augusta, that these photos ”rile" you simp­ly because they do prove that blacks and Hispanics live in the same city as you?

Augusta I don’t think even the "good old Pictorial" could open your bigoted eyes to any truth. You wouldn’t know the truth if it hit you on the head!!

It is narrow minded attitudes of people like you Augusta, that have kept Hoboken on the bottom of the heap for many years. Only now with an infusion of positive thinking and money, is Hoboken becoming the city it was in the late 1800s and early 1900s, a city of which all residents, old and new, can be proud.

How dare you natives complain about having your city taken from you. It is obvious that you people didn’t give a hoot about your city until you realized what you were losing. Well Augusta, now it’s too late. You will have to learn to live with ali ethnic groups, the so-called "new” people and The Hoboken Reporter.

I think The Hoboken Reporter is a symbol of the change in Hoboken. A change for the better. Augusta, you are going to have to stop being so intolerant, and stop thinking of the world or even Hoboken as your own!

To The Hoboken Reporter. Keep up the good work!Sincerely,

Brendan Poh July 18, 1984

I’m tired of being scorned because I’m young and ambitiousDear Editor:

I ’m writing in response to a letter from Augusta Schwartz in the July 11 Editorial column. I feel I am one of the "special people" that Ms. Schwartz refers to, with "screwed-up" persona, who are making it so "difficult" to survive in Hoboken.

I ’m tired of being scorned because I ’m young, ambitious and making it in the New York metro area. If people are being dis­placed by a new wave of people, perhaps the fault lies with "na­tives" who didn’t take the necessary steps to insure the stability of their lifestyles.

The face of Hoboken is changing rapidly. Personally, I ’m ap­palled by some of the architectural abortions being erected. But along with the facade, so are the guts of Hoboken transformed. I think it’s safe to assume that most Hobokenites are working class, regardless of their length of inhabitation. None of us will benefit if we divide ourselves even further with racist and ethnic mud-sling­ing of the type found in the July 11 letter.

Edward Dolinger Aug. 1, 1984

There’s too much transient traffic in the pretentious fast laneDear Editor:

A belated reflection regarding the verbal feud between Augusta Schwartz and Brendan Poh, representing both the old and new people of Hoboken, respectively.

Firstly, I concur that Ms. Schwartz’s rather reckless and tactless rhetoric obviously reflected an innate inability to conceive of any concepts other than her own.

Secondly, as a third generation Hobokenite, I must take umbrage with regard to Mr. Poh’s assertion that we oldies never gave a hoot about Hoboken until we finally realized what we were losing. In fact, we didn’t realize that Hoboken was up for grabs until the new people started forking over fabulous sums for rents to anonymous landlords. I thoroughly agree that Hoboken is being renovated for the good, but the question is the good of whom?

Thirdly, in the main I would say that most of us oldies prefer to move in a well-beaten path rather than run in that pretentious fast lane where there is so much transient traffic.

Lastly, we oldies also recognize the fact that most new people are refugees escaping the economics of rent escalation elsewhere and look to Hoboken as the light at the end of the tunnels. However, what they do not realize is that light is not being held in the hand of Diogenes; it is the light of the absentee landlord guiding them in and signaling to them that they can run but they can’t hide-to quote the late Joe Louis.

Yours truly, Ralph Ruggiere

Aug. 8, 1984

Have compassion for the oldtimer, a homegrown yuppie saysDear Editor:

In response to the Augusta Schwartz letter and subsequent replies, I would also like to express my opinion. I am a Hoboken resident and have been for all of my life. I live on Garden Street and have a new car. I like to think of myself as a ’’Yuppie,” sort .of a hometown boy who made out well. To Ms. Schwartz I would like to reiterate some of the sentiment already touched upon. No matter how you try to convince me otherwise, bigotry is wrong. I am per­fectly sure that the Schwartz family is not a descendent of the Lenni Lenape Indians, the true first inhabitants of Hoboken. One generation or another of your family has been newcomers to Hoboken. I hope they were welcomed with open arms. Please af­ford the same grace extended your family when they were the new faces on the block.

On the other hand, the new faces should remember that we ’’Yup­pies” are fortunate enough to be able to afford to live here in Hoboken. Never before in this city’s history has there been such a rapid gentrification. The fact is people are being displaced. People are fearful of what fate might deal them and they are angry about being forced out of their homes. They are angry that some speculators (and there are only a handful) are reaping a profit at the oldtimers’ expense.

I beseech all the newcomers to first understand and have compas­sion for the oldtimer. The very charm that attracted you to Hoboken is instilled in their hearts. Secondly, do not build up a hos­tility toward all of Hoboken’s natives because of one letter. Many, many natives whom I am close to love what has happened and do welcome you with open arms.

If I can help you with anything in your new home town, just stop by.

Danny Altilio, 1009 Garden Street

Aug. 8, 1984

I’d rather see photos of blacks and Puerto Ricans than live with eggheads, lesbians and punk rockersDear Editor:

I, for one, applaud Augusta Schwartz’s comments in the July 11th issue of your newspaper. Though my complaints with The Hoboken Reporter are not as vehement as hers (I feel you get what you pay for—and we all know what The Hoboken Reporter costs!), I don’t feel that a town of the size and influence of Hoboken does deserve some meatier journalism, if you catch my drift.

As a long time Hoboken resident of many odd years and all my life, I have found Hoboken to be an agreeable place of many dif­ferent classes and colors. Young and old, black, white, and yellow, when compared to many a comparable American city you’ll find we all live pretty comfortably under Hoboken’s pleasant roof. We all pitch in to make this a varied and amiable place to live, work, and eat. Of course, we must not expect as much out of our more recent immigrants, but I have no doubt that they will come along in time and Hoboken welcomes them with loving open arms.

Though I agree with Augusta Schwartz’s complaints about photog­rapher Steve Rubin, I must admit that while strolling down Washington Street you will see a great many black and Puerto Rican men, women and children. To not represent them in the Around Town section (and in the rest of the paper, as well) would give a grave misrepresentation of Hoboken. If Miss/Mrs./Ms. Schwartz wants to see a white Hoboken, let her take up residence

within the ivy tower of Stevens Tech. Perhaps she would feel more at home with the eggheads, lesbians and punk rockers she would find up there. I applaud Steve Rubin’s choice of subjects; I think they represent a fair cross-section of the Hoboken population.

Augusta Schwartz, you have some good ideas, but you forget about it!

Mrs. Roger Fingerhut Aug. 8, 1984

I’m proud to be a lesbian and free from pitiful male desiresDear Editor:

I must vehemently object to "Mrs." Roger Fingerhut’s letter in the August 8th issue of your paper. I am referring specifically to her derisive comments about "eggheads, lesbians, and punk rockers."

Gay and lesbian life is now a reality that we all must live with. The fact that homosexuals can now comfortably integrate with the community at large is an encouraging sign. As a homosexual woman growing up in South Jersey the free expression of my sexual identity was often confined to closets and washrooms. I have been much more at ease since moving to Hoboken in 1981. In terms of free expression of my sexual lifestyle, a lifestyle that comes completely naturally to me, Hoboken has been a veritable paradise. There are many lesbian women in Hoboken, some clandes: tine and some (like myself) more overt. We function comfortably amongst ourselves and the community at large, and we have ways of identifying each other in order to bring the more repressed woman "out of the closet," as it were.

This is a reality fierce bigots like "Mrs." Fingerhut will just have to live with in this increasingly homosexual-conscious world. Bigots often hide behind a mask of insecurity and repressed desires. "Mrs." Fingerhut has chosen, in her blind obedience and ig­norance, to affix the moniker "Mrs." to the front of her name; this connotes subservience to a male, and I assume she’s probably spent her whole life this way. She must be very jealous and envious in­deed of a woman like myself who has lived her life exactly as she wants to. I make my own choices and determine my own role in this world regardless of convention or centuries of male determina­

tion. "Mrs." Fingerhut should be so enlightened, so lucky to express herself in a self-determined manner. Instead, she’s spent her life fol­lowing men’s rules and meeting male expectations, and it manifests itself in barely concealed bitterness and hate.

Womanhood means having a free mind and soul, a reaction to a closed mind of male ignorance. Even though I don’t and never have or would shave my legs in concession to pitiful male desires, I am more of a woman than "Mrs." Fingerhut will ever be.

Andrea Bucci Stevens Tech Woman’s Alliance

Oct. 10, 1984

The lesbian is a slave of prejudice, and the fungus of bigotry thrives in HobokenDear Editor:

From reading your editorial page, one would gather that the fun­gus of Intolerance and Bigotry is thriving in Hoboken. While three letters to the editor (Oct. 10) reeked of hysterical xenophobia towards so-called "Yorkies" (shall we ever have an end to unen- lightening labels?), it was Ms. Andrea Bucci’s letter, designed as an objection to anti-homosexual bigotry, which ironically exuded the most fetid whiff of stupid intolerance.

I am delighted that Ms. Bucci finds in Hoboken "a veritable paradise" which allows "free expression of (her) sexual lifestyle." The civil rights of all citizens, whatever their race, color, creed, or sexual preference, must always be safeguarded.But Ms. Bucci’s ad hominem attacks against Mrs. Fingerhut re­

veal that she embraces bigotry towards heterosexual women (and, it seems, all men) as her Weltanschauung She has the effrontery to as­sert, not to surmise, that Mrs. Fingerhut has "spent her life follow­ing men’s rules and meeting male expectations, and it manifests it­self in barely concealed bitterness and hate." Were I to practice the sort of amateur psychoanalysis Ms. Bucci imposes upon her target, I might diagnose Ms. Bucci as a woman consumed by bitterness and hate brought on by some unspeakable trauma.

Ms. Bucci defines womanhood as "having a free mind and soul, a reaction to the closed mind of male ignorance." Far from exhibiting a "free mind and soul," Ms. Bucci shows herself to be the slave of

Prejudice. She also proves that ignorance is not the sole domain of males.

James Louis Gardner Nov. 7, 1984

Now, now, not every little girl wants to grow up to be a lesbianDear Editor:

Oh dear, now I have to object to Andrea Bucci’s October 10th ob­jection to Mrs. Fingerhut’s letter of August 8th. What pains me is that, Andrea hon, you were doing so good until you hit the home stretch. How can anyone still pull out that old stale "Mrs." rhetoric and pretend it’s the least bit revelatory? I ’m glad that you are happy with your lifestyle, but not every little girl wants to grow up to be a lesbian; I ’m sure a few exist that want nothing except to get married and take care of the domestic front, and bully for them, too. Hey, my mom was one of them, as well as being one of the strongest, most independently willed persons I’ve ever known; to paraphrase, she made her own clothes and determined her own role in this world regardless of convention or centuries of male deter­mination, and nowadays she’s the head artist of an advertising agen­cy. Unlike you, she’s not smug and self-righteous about the path in life she’s chosen. So "womanhood means having a free mind and soul, a reaction to the closed mind of male ignorance," does it? Well, my mother-in-law would find that statement to be a bunch of separationist garbage, but why wouldn’t she? After all, she’s a les­bian feminist (not to mention political activist) with an intelligent, open mind. Hey generalizations, you make me want to vomit.

Douglas Maxson Dec. 5, 1984

I’m glad I didn’t burn my braDear Editor:

I hope you will print this letter in response to Andrea Bucci’s derogatory definition of the married woman. I am a married woman who can certainly say that being married does not make one subser­vient to a male in any way. Just because you can’t deal with men doesn’t mean a woman who can is a slave or a doormat submitting

to being walked over. When two people of the opposite sex fall in love and marry, they enjoy doing things for each other. They don’t find it a put-down for the woman to cook or wash clothes or for the man to do it for that matter.

As for you, 1 find nothing for anyone to be jealous of. All per­sons, male or female, are bom with a free will to exercise as they see fit, to live their lives as they wish. It all depends on the in­dividual and what they want from their life. I am all for feminism and for women’s lib, but if that means having your radically an­tagonistic views on how to live in this world, I ’m glad I didn’t bum my bra; obviously it realigns the brain to the southern posterior.

Mrs. Donna Hoyt Dec. 12, 1984

The pseudo-esoterica of the "new" HobokeniteDear Editor:

Is the need for a professional librarian part of Hoboken’s gentrification process? Is it an effort to satisfy the cultural demands of Hoboken’s immigrant "uppity mobile"?

While browsing at the library recently I was momentarily dis­tracted by a young basso conversing in decibels equal to about ten on the Richter scale who was inquiring about some obscure opera and its equally obscure composer. Decades of osmosis led me to believe that the young man was not a true Hobokenite because his hands were out of sync with his mouth. Either the young man was trying to impress his captive audience with his pseudo-esoterica or else he was a victim of just one too many discos. However, he did throw me an intellectual curve; I thought for sure he was going to ask for Sartre, Proust, Proudhon or Marcuse.

As for gentrification, I would like a little pretentious leeway by quoting the noted sociologist and city planner, Prof. Sir Patrick Geddes who once remarked that metropolitan growth simply means "more and more of worse and worse."

Yours truly, Ralph Ruggiere

Jan. 16, 1985

I love this town despite the feudingDear Editor:

After living in Hoboken for more than two years I ’m tired of read­ing the ongoing feud between the native Hobokenites and the new­comers. I love living in this town and as we begin 1985 I would simply like to express my appreciation for the friendliness and honesty I have found here.

1. For Hank’s, the comer deli where I always get a hello, thank you, and a smile.

2. For Lisa’s, where not only the cooking is authentic, so is the friendliness.

3. For Willow Pharmacy, where you get service, not just a product.

4. For my landlady, who treats me more like a friend than a tenant.

I could go on but suffice to say it’s nice to live in a town where people remember your name and where you can let your guard down after a hard day at work. Thank you to all the people who make Hoboken a nice place to live.

Sincerely, Lisa Anguilla Jan. 16, 1985

Protestors at Reagan’s 1984 campaign stop in Hoboken.

34 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER FIVE

What’s the Difference Between Ronald Reagan

and an Old Pair of Sneakers?

In Hoboken, nothing is safe from the conflict between oldtimers and newcomers, and the manifestations of the Great Divide. All it takes is a simple, harmless comment—whether it be about Ronald Reagan, ignored stop signs, or hanging sneakers—to incite weeks of debate.

In the summer of 1984, Ronald Reagan made a campaign stop at the Feast of St. Ann’s, one of Hoboken’s Italian religious celebra­tions. Many viewed the visit as an effort to court the ethnic vote and counter any gains made by Democratic presidential candidate Walter Mondale, who had chosen Italian-American Geraldine Fer­raro as his running mate. Oldtime Hobokenites, however, seemed proud to have the president visit their long-abused city.

Many newcomers and other younger, liberal residents were less enthusiastic about the presidential appearance, and protested in traditional fashion. They picketed, marched, and wrote letters to the editor.

Reagan will make dancing bears out of usDear Editor:

On Thursday afternoon, Ronald Wilson Reagan plans to stand in the shadows of the cupola of St. Ann’s Church on Jefferson Street in Hoboken. Surrounding him, insulating him from the pulsating rhythms of an exuberant ethnic feast, tall men with their fingers

only inches from guns will watch the proceedings with the kind of special stoicism that only the Secret Service can muster. Surround­ing the men with guns, hundreds of men and women with cameras and tape decks will capture a manufactured moment, more or less the way the President’s campaign advisers believe that moment should be captured. This is Reagan’s opportunity to make America believe that he too has the support of ethnic America, that it is not the sole province of Mrs. Ferraro and the Democratic party. To this end, Ronald Wilson Reagan will do his utmost to manipulate the press and to parade the people of Hoboken before it like dancing bears.

Mr. Reagan will not visit the gutted shell of a ten-family tenement where ten families at a time lost their homes in the name of development. He will not point to the condominiums and say, "A family once lived there.” Instead, he will point to the condos for the cameras and say, patronizingly enough, "See how well these people maintain their homes." Mr. Reagan will not visit the empty warehouses or the abandoned shipyard. Photographs of abandoned shipyards do not best represent the wild imaginings of an elitist president. Instead, he will eat calzones with the good sisters, never acknowledging their slain sisters in Central America.

The Presidential trip, quite likely financed by taxpayers money, will no doubt make many people clap their hands and shout, "He’s here," while others of us sit in silence and wonder where he’s been.

On Thursday, July 26, President Ronald Reagan, 40th President of the United States, is scheduled to visit the St. Ann’s Festival in Hoboken. Exact details of his visit are unknown at this time. A coalition of various groups in Hoboken are planning to greet the President and to demonstrate their opposition to foreign and domes­tic policies. The demonstration is expected to be dignified in deference to a religious festival. All are invited.

Seamus McGraw July 25, 1984

You pseudo-beautiful people know nothing about respectDear Editor:

This letter is directed at whoever was outside St. Ann’s Church

protesting on July 26, 1984. There is a word called "respect" and you pseudo-beautiful people seem to have no idea about what the word means. The President came to St. Ann’s Parish on a visit; he was a guest of St. Ann’s. You had no right to smear the event the way you did. If it was a city or state affair, I would back you up to­tally, but it was not. It was an invitation for the Piesident to visit the church and the feast.

You yelled and screamed at him, even burned the flag in front of the church. This is going out to all you "yorkies" who were there. Stay up on Hudson Street because what you did down here won't be quickly forgotten.

You people just don’t realize that this is a community we have here in Hoboken. We were proud to have the President of the United States visiting us. Maybe we do not agree 100% with what he says, but we respect the position he holds. You people are just weekend protesters, and I detest you using St. Ann's Church, Parish and Feast Day as an opportunistic ploy for your issues.

You have no respect for the church, for the community, for the neighborhood and most of all, for Hoboken.

Anthony Petrosino Aug. 22, 1984

Reagan used church as a television studioDear Editor:

I was deeply disturbed by Anthony Petrosino's letter of August 22 in which he accuses those who protested Ronald Reagan’s "visit" to the St. Ann’s Feast of "using" the feast as an "opportunistic ploy for our issues." An act, which he felt displayed a complete lack of respect to the religious nature of the feast, the church, its com­munity and Hoboken itself. He claims the event wasn't civic in na­ture, but simply a visit to the church. In all respect to you, Mr. Petrosino and the parishioners at St. Ann’s, the church was used that day, used as a television studio in which our thespian President communicated to a nation of voters, many Catholic, that he honors our church.

I join Mr. Petrosino in condemning any American who would bum his own flag. My flag has been soiled enough by the likes of Edwin Meese, Ray Donovan and Ronald Reagan. I don't care to bum my flag, but to restore it to its former dignity. Advocacy and

opposition are the soul of our Republic. Whether I approve or op­pose is an act of citizenship, an act of patriotism. In my opposition, I protested the madness of our current leadership and in so doing I honored my flag, community, and yes, even St. Ann, the grandmother of God.

James Ruggia Oct. 10, 1984

Congratulations, HobokenDear Editor:

We wish to extend our congratulations and compliments to all the Departments in the City of Hoboken, the clergy, St. Ann Festival Committee, the parishioners of St. Ann, all the citizens of Hoboken for the dignified and well-done welcome given to President Reagan and all the visiting dignitaries on July 26, 1984. It was indeed an honor for the President of the United States to come to our city, a memorable event, something we shall remember for a long time.

"Hoboken"—stand up, take a bow. You did a fantastic job. Keep up the good work.

Mary and Bill Perry and family Aug. 8, 1984

Driving in Hoboken has its own rules and regulations, a code that no motor vehicle department could ever interpret. Cars are always double-parked on the city’s narrow streets, creating an obstacle course that makes the Le Mans look like a Texas highway. In addi­tion, intersections are a tribute to everything wrong with auto travel. Stop signs, if there are any at all, mean nothing. Larger cars usually have the right of way, but the rule of thumb is to yield to the other driver only if it looks like he’s going to make it through the intersection before you. Newcomers, accustomed to realistic rules of the road, found the situation abominable, especially when the almighty stop sign was transgressed.

Lack of street signs and traffic control plague Hoboken.

They zoom through stop signs all day and night, newcomer complainsDear Editor:

I would like to make an announcement to drivers in Hoboken and the Hoboken Police Department: There is a stop sign on the northwest comer of Tenth Street and Garden Street.

I know all of you must be very surprised to hear about this. Yes! You didn’t notice but I ’d say it’s been there over three years at least. In fact, it might be there much longer than that, but I wouldn’t know because I ’ve only lived in Hoboken for three years.

Drivers in all types of vehicles, at all times of the day and night, just zoom right through that intersection and there never seems to be a policeman giving tickets. Although, the police appear to make rounds for plenty of parking violations in this area of town.

Well, it’s not really the fault of the police that no one notices this stop sign. In fact, I ’d say from experience that the majority of people driving in Hoboken don’t stop at the signs.

Why don’t we take down all the stop signs and sell them to a more civilized place?

A Female Garp Apr. 17, 1985

Stop sign problems? Leave, if you don’t like itDear Editor:

Miss Female Garp, in reply to your remark about a policeman not being there to catch the violators I can say our policemen do a good job protecting the people of Hoboken. Even the people who are living here for three years. There are a little over one hundred policemen in our town assigned to protect around 50,000 citizens in Hoboken.

Then you have only been in this town three years. You have no idea how many calls are received by the police and fire depart­ments in one day. If you, Miss Garp, feel that Hoboken is uncivil­ized, I suggest you return to where you came from or learn to make a citizen’s arrest at the stop sign intersections in Hoboken. Also, I must feel that you’ve never driven a car in New York City because I believe you would earn much more money taking down their stop signs and selling them elsewhere.

Jack Turso Apr. 24, 1985

No one stops at signs, but that doesn’t mean we’re not civilDear Editor:

In response to "A Female Garp” published in April 17th issue. First of all, you are right about nobody stopping at stop signs, cause I live on Third and Jackson Street and we also have a stop sign posted there which nobody seems to see and we have a lot of children crossing at the comer. And you’re also right about the police force not being able to be at the right place all the time. But as a Hobokenite for the past 31 years, I don’t think this town is not civil. According to your last comment, "Why don’t we take down all the stop signs and sell them to a more civilized place?" you feel that this town is not civilized. Well, if you feel that way then why did you move here in the first place? Maybe to all you newcomers

we are not civilized but to the real Hobokenites we have been civil longer than you have been living here.

Debra Morrissette Apr. 24, 1985

Stop the silly bickeringDear Editor:

Must someone be struck and killed before the seriousness of this situation is acknowledged? Let’s stop this silly bickering about whether Hoboken is "civilized" or not, and demand that some effort be made to ticket the offending drivers. Perhaps the threat of hefty fines and points on their license would do some good.

It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?Janet Crooks June 5, 1985

Hoboken, like other older cities, has above-the-ground telephone wires where local kids toss their "wasted" sneakers. Some of the shoe-hurlers claim they do it as a tribute to footwear, others explain it’s just another eccentric Hoboken tradition. At one point, so many sneakers hung from the lines at a certain comer in the city the spot became a tourist attraction. Passing motorists would even stop to take pictures of the sight. "It’s a symbol of the times," a local resi­dent once commented on the phenomenon. "You put your sneakers up there and you’ll never die."

I am troubled by the dangling talismans on the Hoboken utility linesDear Editor:

All too often, when I go walking late at night on the deserted streets of Hoboken, my upward glance is greeted by a troubling sight: a cluster of athletic shoes, hung by the laces from the utility lines, revolving mutely in the breeze.

My question is, why?

Seventh Street and Park Avenue, Hoboken.

Are these dangling talismans the remainder of some local man­hood rite, in which a young Hobokener is stripped of his worn and dated Pumas, which are then cast up on the wires for the com­munity to see? Are they the work of some fiendish artist? Can shoelaces carry phone calls?

Any reader who can explain this small mystery—perhaps the party or parties responsible—should please do so in a subsequent letter to the editor.

Thank you.William W. Daniel

June 19, 1985

If they really turn you off, then cut them downDear Hushpuppy-wearer:

Re: letter which appeared in Hoboken Reporter, June 19, 1985.I can just see you tapping your loafers in disgust as you stare up

at the horrific sight of sneakers hanging over telephone wires. As the proud owner of a pair of Pro-Keds, it pains me to hear that you don’t appreciate my contribution to the sights of Hoboken.

In case you haven’t noticed (and I doubt you have), this is a city you live in, young yuppie. Kids in places like Hoboken, Brooklyn, and Manhattan do have rituals like tossing their old "rides" over telephone wires. It is as much a part of being a kid in the city as playing games like bottlecaps and stickball. I ’m sure those games are also foreign to your wondrous cultural background and will one day be the butt of your pseudo-wit.

If they really turn you off, then I suggest climbing a utility pole (please don’t get any splinters) and cutting them down. Only do us all a favor while you’re up there, don’t come down!

Still in sneakers.Paul M. Drexel

June 26, 1985

Drexel seemed somewhat paranoidDear Editor:

I thoroughly enjoyed Mr. Drexel’s witty, if somewhat paranoid response in this space (Reporter, June 26) to my earlier query about Hoboken’s hanging basketball shoes (.Reporter, June 19). However, in his anti-yuppie haste, he failed to answer the question at hand: why?

Will Daniel July 3, 1986

P.S. I met some yuppies once. They were just regular folks who dressed a little funny, but some of them spoke with their teeth tight­ly clenched, which made their words difficult to make out. Perhaps this is one of the reasons they are so widely misunderstood.

Daniel is still tapping his loafersDear Editor:

Once again, I can see Mr. Daniel tapping his loafers, this time in eager anticipation, as he reads my response to his query about hang­ing sneakers. I can’t tell you how delighted I am that he enjoyed my wit, however, I don’t think he quite understood the letter’s con­tent. So, let’s try one more time.

The question, at least according to his first diatribe, is at foot, not at hand. Furthermore, I did try to offer some explanation as to why kids hang their "rides"; however, Mr. Daniel’s query may be too

elusive for me to understand. I get the feeling he’s the type of guy who might ask why the Mona Lisa is smiling (clenched teeth and all).

Finally, perhaps I am paranoid about people like him, who call age-old traditions like hanging sneakers "troubling." His original let­ter set the tone for my response, not the inverse. If he was only as­king why, then why was he so flippant?

Mr. Daniel, arrogance and ignorance are never the same thing as genuine curiosity!

Still in sneakers.Paul M. Drexel

July 17, 1985

All public debate reflects the threat of gentriflcation, sneakerman saysDear Editor:

I ’d like to add another thought to the Suspended Pumas/Tapping Loafers controversy (SPTL for short) I unwittingly ignited in this space on June 19.

After some initial confusion, I realized that perhaps all public debate in Hoboken today eventually reflects the threat of gentrifica- tion; that since the stakes are so high for so many, and the threat so imminent, fear and loathing of yuppies intrudes into every discus­sion. If we were discussing anything from particle physics to heavy metal, one of us would soon have to defend the yuppie position, the other, the Aboriginal Hobokener position (which might be backed up with claims of up to 100 years’ residence).

In such a climate, SPTL was bound to be exchanged sooner or later.

Finally, I am genuinely sorry that my approach to SPTL is too dry for Mr. Drexel. After all, it is said that humor is one of only two ef­fective antidotes for venom.

Sincerely, Wül Daniel

July 31, 1985

Stick to the Issue at "foot," DanielDear Editor:

After not seeing a letter in the July 23 issue of your paper from Mr. Daniel, I thought the discussion of hanging sneakers had final­ly been "hung" to rest. Unfortunately, after reading his reply two weeks ago, I ’m afraid the issue has taken on a whole new meaning.

Frankly, I think Mr. Daniel must have been sitting on the mound in the little league park when he wrote his reply. His logic is as curved as some of the pitches kids throw in their games.

The issue of hanging sneakers has little to do with yuppies, dis­placement, or (this may come as a surprise) particle physics. Those are important topics, but their connection to the overhead sight is remote. The issue has more to do with accepting the cultural diver­sity that exists in our city. I could care less whether you are a longtime resident, yuppie, newcomer, senior citizen or even Wil­liam Daniel, as long as you are not out to make this town into a sterile bedroom community.

Many of my friends who are new to Hoboken are enamored with the town’s melting pot atmosphere. It is this atmosphere which is the soul of our city.

I only ask that if Mr. Daniel plans on replying, that he stick to the issue at "foot." Anytime he wants to discuss displacement, yuppies or even particle physics, I will be happy to share my views.

And he can be as dry as a cracker or as wet as a baby’s bottom, it makes no difference to me.

From behind home plate, Paul M. Drexel Aug. 14, 1985

There are primates among usDear Editor:

By dubbing Hoboken’s residential centenarians "Aboriginal," writer Will Daniel, who was recently deeply involved in a verbal duel regarding the relative merits of SPTL—his term for the local teenage sport of entangling wom-out shoes over telephone wires— seems also to think that it is his missionary duty to convert us na­tives to the new Yuppie real estate religion called "gentrification."

I think Mr. Daniel would be surprised to learn that there is a sub­

merged clique of quiet aristocrats, who, I ’m sure, would qualify as "primates" in Mr. Daniel’s articulate vernacular, as they would make us "aborigines" look like relative newcomers.

Yours truly, Ralph Ruggiere

Aug. 24, 1985

A modest proposalDear Editor:

I truly enjoy reading the letters to the editor column. Some letters are so hilarious that I wonder if they were actually written by readers or if they were written by the paper to entertain the readers. I have especially enjoyed the letters about the hanging sneakers of Hoboken. I too am tired of seeing the same old sneakers hanging from the wires. How dull—how boring—how passe! Let’s stop pus­syfooting around with sneakers and let’s expand our horizons. After all as Mr. Drexel said we don’t want Hoboken to become a sterile bedroom community, so my modest proposal is to get real diverse. Let’s start hanging bras and jock straps from the wires instead of old sneakers.

The immediate benefits would be that Mr. Daniel and Mr. Drexel would stop arguing about sneakers. This idea would make Hoboken an interesting place in which to live and visit. The town would not become a sterile bedroom community and it would show to the world how culturally diverse Hoboken really is.

With tongue in cheek, E. Golembeski

Sept. 4, 1985

Tom Vezzetti.

CHAPTER SIX

Politics: In Desperation, the People of Hoboken Opt

for Comic Relief

In Hudson County politics, those who inherit the machine inherit the earth.

These words were almost as true in the 1970s as they were in the ’30s and ’40s. For the first half of the 20th century, Jersey City Mayor Frank "I am the law" Hague had such a grip on the elec­torate he could assure U.S. presidents of delivering the vote to a projected number. His Hoboken lieutenant, Mayor Bernard McFeely, ran the local government like a private business, leading the National Municipal League to conclude in 1948, "The people of Hoboken have been robbed...there is not a single service which is not overmanned by 50 percent to 150 percent." McFeely’s stron- garm rule affected every aspect of life-from the prohibition era speakeasies and brothels to jobs on the docks and in the factories.

Things haven’t changed all that much since that time, although "honest graft" is no longer as blatant as it once was. Federal prosecutors, freed by national administrations that no longer found the old Hudson County machine as reliable or necessary as they once did, began sending many of the full-time political bosses to jail. Indeed, many were surprised to find that taking bribes was il­legal or that requiring a political payment from every government worker for the party fund wasn’t the same as collecting union dues.

The Hoboken government—one of the largest employers in the city—continued to be laden with patronage positions and the type of

management that is better at getting votes and providing jobs and favors than running a city. "There’s nothing wrong with the patronage system," then-Mayor Steve Cappiello told a reporter during his 1985 re-election campaign. "It’s natural to reward your own political supporters."

Disbursing the spoils of public office was an institutionalized part of Hoboken life. Even if a person’s job didn’t depend on it, that of his neighbor or relative probably did. It would take an extremely cunning politician, a brilliant statesman and bom leader to conquer anything as solid and established as the local political machine.

Tom Vezzetti was none of the above.In his 50s, Vezzetti was a local character, a very large man who

supposedly played football without a helmet in the navy. His fami­ly owned a local flophouse/pool hall/bar known as the Madison. After his father’s death, Vezzetti lived in the Madison, often sleep­ing at night on the pool table, or holding court with winos, shipyard workers, and anyone else who came in to drink themselves stupid. He still recalls with fondness his days as "the illegitimate father of the drunks."

In the late ’70s/early ’80s, about the time Hoboken’s gentrifica- tion began picking up steam, Vezzetti had a vision: he would be a politician. He started tramping about town on his mission, first in bermuda shorts, mismatched size-13 shoes, and dirty T-shirts; later in loud, ill-fitting suits he picked up in a going-out-of-business sale at a nearby clothing store.Vezzetti, though, had two things many oldtime Hobokenites didn’t

have~a college degree and a masters in history from New York University. It took him 11 years to graduate college, but few Hobokenites his age ever made it out of high school. In addition, he claimed to be writing a dissertation on Hoboken politics for a PhD in English literature. When asked about the connection be­tween the two subjects, he made analogies between feudal England and Hoboken’s Board of Education.

Despite his wit and big words, many residents felt Vezzetti was the village idiot. His brain, however, was perfect for the television age. His concentration lasted about 15 seconds. Calling himself a "psychological verbal therapist,” Vezzetti could spout quick wit­ticisms and banter with ease. He eventually channelled his cam­paigns into pat sayings:

Steve Cappiello

"The administration has two types of people working for them— idiots and gangsters.”

"I’m not this good, they’re that bad.""They’re all sanctimonious hypocrites and jaded Machiavellians.""I’m not your normal guinea. I went to Bradley Beach with all the

Jews."”1 apologize for my improprieties, but politics is the art of im­

proprieties."And his classic, "Always a pleasure."Vezzetti began to attract a following. At first his groupies were the

distraught, the homeless and near homeless—those who were most upset by the changes rapidly taking place in Hoboken.

In addition, new people were on the streets, people who were young, different and unfamiliar, not wedded to the omnipresent machine. They were searching for urban utopia, a quest that encom­passed everything from good restaurants to good government.

They found Tom Vezzetti. Also not manacled to the machine, he had little to lose. If nothing else, he appeared too crazy to be any­thing but honest.

POLITICS: IN DESPERATION 51

In the early ’80s, a rash of deadly fires hit Hoboken. Arson-for- profit was the charge, the profit being either rehabilitation of build­ings for high rentpayers or condo conversion. All investigations were inconclusive, but there was a panic in the tenements.

Vezzetti got himself a bullhorn and pounded up and down the avenues in his neighborhood, charging that the greedy "secret ser­vice" in City Hall-meaning mafia-were profiting from the dis­placement of the oldtime residents. He began to promise that, if elected, he would both stop rampant development and build addi­tional housing.

More people started listening to Vezzetti. With the help of Steve Block, an educator and former ’60s radical, and several other early settlers, Vezzetti ran against Mayor Steve Cappiello’s machine and was elected to the city council in 1983.

For two years he disrupted council meetings, screaming and carry­ing on his attack against the administration.Not that the mayor was above the renegade councilman’s antics. When Vezzetti barged into Cappiello’s City Hall office one day in July, the mayor tossed a firecracker at him from his desk. The small explosive popped harm­lessly at Vezzetti’s feet. Councilman Pat Pasculli, a machine young turk and then Vezzetti supporter, later threatened to retaliate against the mayor with water balloons.

Still unshaven, unkempt, and uncontrollable, Vezzetti remained the sole howl of discontent. Meanwhile, the condo craze heightened, and the panic spread. The "village idiot" began cam­paigning for mayor.

Gentrification is the central concern of politicsDear Editor:

For decades Hoboken has been victimized by the politics of per­sonality, patronage and pressure. Serious problems in the city fester and grow while politicians have been elected and reelected by re­quiring political loyalty from their families, recipients of municipal services, and residents of publicly-owned housing.

It is my view that the major causes of high taxes and rents, poor municipal services, inadequate public education, and a crumbling in­frastructure are twofold: first, the continued dominance of patronage politics which controls public resources for private gain; and second, redevelopment policies in housing and economic

development which effectively exclude most Hoboken residents.The central concern for all of us in 1985, therefore, is who will

live in Hoboken. Those who favor Hoboken becoming more and more gentrified will no doubt support either a traditional politician or someone new who will continue the current development policies. Those of us who want Hoboken to be affordable and at­tractive to a mixed community of different nationalities, races and classes will have to find policies and politicians able to hold economic forces in line, provide development which benefits all people irrespective of family wealth or political connection, and make government work effectively and efficiently.

I am convinced that an overwhelming majority of people in Hoboken share the goals of reduced taxes, affordable housing, decent schools, effective services, and an end to political extortion. The trick will be to cut through the unnecessary antagonisms of tenants and small homeowners, oldtimers and newcomers, Hispanics and non-Hispanics, and produce a majority coalition by the time we hold the runoff election in June of 1985.

Steve Block Sept. 28, 1983

Vezzetti: The mayor and his backroom deals have ruined our cityDear Editor:

I have been extremely happy to be working so hard to elect Roger Dorian for Freeholder not because of his personal achievements such as his career in the banking industry or his 30 years in the marines but because he is running against Steve Cappiello.

Steve Cappiello has stood for everything that’s wrong in Hoboken and Hudson County politics. He has become wealthy as a result of his political and economic maneuvering, while he has failed as Freeholder and Mayor to address the serious problems we face. For most of his political career he was in bed with county politicians, and the high tax rate, the sorry state of county government, the in­competence of county institutions and the backroom political deals are his legacy.

Tom Vezzetti Oct. 24, 1985

Vezzetti: Political thugs are behind my arrestDear Editor:

On Friday, Feb. 24, 1984, Director of Public Safety James Gior­dano had me arrested because I wouldn’t bow to his wish that I leave a City Council committee meeting. As an elected Councilman I had every right to be in the meeting so long as I wasn’t the fifth councilman in the room which would then violate the sunshine law. I was the fourth. If Jimmy Giordano cannot discuss the Public Safety budget in front of me, that’s his problem. To have me ar­rested and to physically assault me because I wouldn’t bow to his whim represents the kind of two-bit thug behavior I grew up learn­ing about in Hoboken during the ’40s and ’50s. I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in the 1980s.

I pledge to do everything in my power to rid city government of the plague of Jimmy Giordano and all the sordid, corrupting influen­ces he represents.

Tom Vezzetti, Councilman Feb. 29, 1984

Corruption plagues Hoboken governmentDear Editor:

When Jimmy Giordano (Hoboken Director of Public Safety) had Tom Vezzetti arrested last Friday, he not only violated Councilman Vezzetti’s rights as a citizen and an elected official, but he also demonstrated the ultimate corruption that plagues Hoboken’s government.

Tom Vezzetti for years has been Hoboken’s consummate public citizen. Many have quarrelled with lois angry and sometimes erratic style. But no one doubts his commitment to open and honest government. When he was elected last year, he breathed new life into Hoboken’s moribund political process. When it turned out that newly elected sixth ward Councilman Pat Pasculli shared Vezzetti’s desire to break with secretive, self-serving politics, many of us began to see that 1985’s mayoral election could give Hoboken the opportunity to eliminate the stench of machine politics from our schools and government once and for all.

Steve Block, member, Hoboken Board of EducationFeb. 29, 1984

Clarifying the circumstances of Vezzettl’s arrestDear Editor:

I hope to dispel the misplaced and erroneous allegations made by Steve Block in his letter to your paper.

The Public Safety Committee had scheduled a meeting for 2 p.m. on Feb. 24 to discuss budgetary questions with representatives of the police and fire unions in light of the City’s current tax crisis.

In order to avoid a violation of the state’s "Sunshine Law," the council cannot have more than four of its members present at any committee meeting. Before Tom Vezzetti’s appearance on the scene, the committee already had a maximum number of an­ticipated participants. Nevertheless, when Councilman Vezzetti ar­rived he was admitted since Councilman Romano had not yet ar­rived. This did not, however, satisfy Tom Vezzetti, who proceeded to disrupt the meeting with his usual shouts and unfounded allega­tions of secret meetings.

As it became apparent that Mr. Vezzetti’s interest was more to dis­rupt than to participate in a fruitful meeting, Public Safety Director Giordano, in exasperation, arose and told Mr. Vezzetti to leave. Mr. Vezzetti’s response to this was a dash for Mr. Giordano’s chair, literally pushing Councilman Cemelli and Mr. Giordano to the side in the attempt. It was at this point that Director Giordano ordered Mr. Vezzetti’s arrest in order to resume an orderly meeting.

Mr. Vezzetti, in his usual style, sat firmly and defiantly with his fingers grasping the arm of the Director’s chair, until Captain Totaro entered the room and performed the arrest. If anybody should be charged with assault in this incident, it’s Mr. Vezzetti.

I agree with Mr. Block that the facts of this case are simple, but unfortunately, he was not able to get his facts straight, since he wasn’t there.

I, for one, would certainly be appreciative of any fellow Council member who could expend such time and energy in efforts benefi­cial to our community. I am, however, growing to resent the drain Mr. Vezzetti is placing upon our Council during our time of tax and budget crisis. In this regard, I would admonish Councilman Vezzetti to stop running for office, and to start fulfilling the respon­sibilities of the office to which he was elected.

Helen Macri, Council President Mar. 7, 1984

I love the garish magnificence and zaniness of Hoboken politicsDear Editor:

The cliche runs, ’’Better late than never," and like most cliches, this one contains a motherlode of truth. My tardiness concerns a let­ter which derided Mayor Cappiello and Councilman Vezzetti for their "ridiculous antics" in the now notorious firecracker commedia dell’arte. What a shame!

I mean, with the rest of the country gurgling in the quicksand of its own sincerity and responsibility, how can you hate a mayor who tosses firecrackers at a councilman that drives him crazy, or, for that matter, a candidate who, legend has it, taunted his "absentee" opponent in the last election with the words, "Come on out, I know you’re in there!" Of such garish magnificence was the spirit of our zany, plebeian city forged. I found the entire episode hilariously refreshing—the perfect antidote to the tedium which envelops the politics of most communities.

Sure, "civic-minded" perfectionists frown on such folderol; and plenty of people are falling over each other trying to appear poised and righteous in an attempt to please the newly arrived gentry. Me? As long as they aren’t throwing grenades, I love a dash of nonsense.

William J. Keller Sept. 19, 1984

Vezzetti is trying to divide Hoboken into old and newDear Editor:

This outrageous slander of all those who served in the office from Hoboken is typical of the tactics of Vezzetti and those who control him. They are trying to divide the people of Hoboken into two camps—the old and the new of Hoboken. The puppeteer (Steve Block) behind Vezzetti is a self-proclaimed savior who has tried to develop a power base in the school system and City Hall, but, having failed in this regard, is using Vezzetti to label "old timers" as evil, dirty, and dishonest.

The great majority of new arrivals in Hoboken of recent years do not follow this divisive line of nonsense but enjoy and participate

positively in Hoboken life just as other new arrivals have throughout Hoboken’s history. We are a community of all types of people. To be a part of this community, it is enough to say, "I’m from Hoboken."

Mayor Steve Cappiello, as Mayor Louis DePascale, his predeces­sor, does not divide people. He joins them.

Sincerely Joseph W. Hottendorf

Nov. 21, 1984

Vezzetti: Bye-bye to the scoundrels and gangstersDear Editor:

You know, once in a blue moon even a scoundrel like Joe Hotten­dorf is right. In my determination to get rid of what Steve Cappiel­lo and his entourage of gangsters represent, I do sometimes get car­ried away and take a point too far. As a first term councilman who has had my own unique way of fighting corruption for many years, there are still some things for me to learn about being more diplomatic as a public figure.

But I will stand my excess language against Steve Cappiello’s deeds any time. Hottendorf calls me greedy. That’s ridiculous! When I owned the Madison I ran the first shelter for the homeless in Hoboken. It’s Hottendorf’s boss who has gone from rags to riches through politics.

Everyone knows that wealth and greed don’t drive me. No, Joe Hottendorf, it’s the determination to get your kind out of power so we can have a government that helps everyone instead of only those who support it. And listen, I ’ve been in Hoboken longer than Joe Hottendorf has been alive. My family helped build this city and for Hottendorf, who along with his father plays political games with the lives of kids on the line, to claim that I represent new­comers and not oldtimers shows how self-serving he really is. Pat Pasculli and I represent the interests of everyone who wants politi­cal change. What you saw last June and on November 6th is an in­dication of what I hope will happen next May; oldtimers and new­

comers uniting to say "Bye bye Birdie" to Joe Hottendorf’s kind of politics.

Always a pleasure, Tom Vezzetti

Nov. 28, 1984

Hoboken is divided, not between old and new, but between good and badDear Editor:

Hottendorf claims Hoboken is divided. He’s right-divided be­tween those who benefit the most from political corruption and the great majority of citizens and public employees who suffer the con­sequences of inept management and second rate government educa­tion. Hottendorf’s mayor, their friends on the city council, and some unscrupulous developers are responsible for forcing oldtimers and many first generation newcomers out of Hoboken while spread­ing fear and anger among many who remain. No Joe, it isn’t those of us seeking change who are dividing this community. It is you, your political friends, and your brand of politics.

The Cappiello strategy for undermining opponents has begun to unfold. They call Tom Vezzetti "crazy," Pat Pasculli "naive," Steve Block a "puppeteer" or a "hypocrite," and no doubt they’ll find more names for the many other community leaders involved in the growing reform movement. Hopefully, their name calling won’t work and after next May’s election, we can begin building respon­sible government.

Steve Block Dec. 26, 1984

The City Council is a three-ring circusDear Editor:

Hear ye! Hear ye! The circus is in town! Best of all, the admis­sion is free—come to a City Council meeting on the first and third Wednesday of every month...there’s just one price you’ll have to pay. Your reasoning and intelligence will be left at the door as you enter the Council Chambers.

1 was at the Nov. 7 three-ring circus. The main attraction was two whining, vociferous councilmen, who dominated the center ring by

using the other Council members and the public audience as a sounding board. The meeting last Wednesday can only be described as chaotic, and I would like to know who’s in charge?

P.S. Councilmen Vezzetti and Pasculli, it’s about time to quit "show biz"—the public wants quality and so far, "we ain’t seen noth­ing yet." It’s time to clean up your act and show some respect to the audience.

Gratefully living in the Third WardDec. 5, 1984

Mayor Cappiello turned this city aroundDear Editor:

In 1973, Steve Cappiello was elected mayor of Hoboken. At that time, I was 16 years old. I remember a Hoboken that was the brunt of many jokes. Many people laughed at our city. Yet, the condition of our city wasn’t funny. Much of the housing was deteriorated. Prior to our present mayor’s election, riots in the streets were fre­quent. Today, Hoboken is a pretty safe, prosperous town—a town that we can be proud of.

Homeowners have prospered. Much of Hoboken’s revitalization is due to the hard work and dedication of Steve Cappiello.

Mayor Cappiello is known to be a shrewd politician. I know him as the youngest child of a family of 12 children who struggled from poverty to decency through pride and hard work.

The mayor’s most boisterous critic, Tom Vezzetti slanders our mayor with personal slurs and inaccurate accusations through his bull horn and loud speaker. Tom Vezzetti shouts while the mayor works many hours a day, rebuilding a city which was once the slum of Hudson County. Tom Vezzetti wakes people up at 7 in the morning shouting in the streets that the mayor should do something about the snow around town (I know because I was awakened by his screams), while the mayor helps plan the development of our waterfront. Tom Vezzetti invades banks and businesses with his "frantic behavior," while the mayor promotes the growth of our avenue. (Does Mr. Vezzetti do anything except attack a decent, family-oriented man who cared enough about his city and the people in it to dedicate much of his adult life to our city’s rebirth?) Steve Cappiello’s business-like approach to government brought stability to our city, while Tom Vezzetti’s ineptness destroyed his

family’s business on 14th and Washington.Our mayor is the responsible parent of three fine children and the

grandparent of one (with another on the way). I personally know that he cares about these issues. When he is reelected mayor I am confident he will devote more time to them., I am also confident that the people of Hoboken, the "Hobo- kenites" and the "New Yorkers," will realize that Steve Cappiello has done his job well. I cannot seriously believe that they will hand the responsibility of governing our city to Tom Vezzetti or any other "anti-" candidate.

I am very proud of my uncle. I know that my father, who was the oldest in the mayor’s family and who worked most of his life in a factory (a factory which was the first in the nation to be converted into apartments under the administration) would have been proud of him too.

Terry LaBruno Educator, Academy of the Sacred Heart

Dec. 12, 1984

Terry, you left some facts out about your uncleDear Editor:

Like just about all of us in public life, Steve Cappiello enjoys the love and respect of his family. This only becomes an issue for the community when a member of the Cappiello family, in her under­standable rush to support her uncle, leaves out some important his­torical and contemporary facts. Such was the case with Terry Cap­piello LaBruno’s letter last week.

The programs responsible for where Hoboken is today were estab­lished not by Steve Cappiello but by his predecessor, Mayor DePascale, through the Model Cities and CDA leadership of Mike Coleman. Once such programs as home improvement and tenement rehabilitation were started, factors like our geographical location, the quality of our buildings, and the diversity of our community were largely responsible for attracting outside money and people to Hoboken. It is disrespectful to the memory of Mayor DePascale that if credit is due, it is not appropriately given to his administra­tion.

It cannot be disputed that Steve Cappiello has benefited politically from these earlier initiatives. He has failed, however, to offset the

bad effects of Hoboken’s development and has done little to im­prove other areas as well. Under Cappiello, displacement has been rampant, taxes have soared, and services have deteriorated. As a schoolteacher I know first hand that our education problems have not simply been "overlooked” as Ms. LaBruno suggests. Rather, the Mayor, through his appointees on the Board of Education, has con­tributed to our problems by using the school system as a political trading post.

I also strongly disagree that Cappiello has invested his life in politics because he ’’cared enough about his city and the people in it.” Like other political bosses before him, Cappiello has gotten fame and fortune as a result of his career in politics. No one should be confused about his motives for continuing to control Hoboken politics.

I do agree that Tom Vezzetti is angry about what Cappiello has done and not done. As a councilman for the past 18 months, I, too, have become more and more angry at the way Cappiello runs Hoboken. Fortunately for all of us, it now appears more and more people agree with Tom and me. I hope and pray that the results in May will also indicate that a majority of voters see through the Cap­piello smokescreen.

Sincerely, Pat Pasculli

Dec. 18, 1984

He is my uncle and he has done wonders for this townDear Editor:

I wrote an article to this newspaper on Nov. 6, praising the ac­complishments of Mayor Cappiello and his administration. That let­ter appeared on Dec. 11. Mr. Pasculli, in ’’his rush” to try to refute the truth, had his letter appear on Dec. 18.

In that letter Mr. Pasculli said I left out some historical and con­temporary facts in my article. I am sure Mr. Pasculli knows that a fact is a concrete statement of some reality. Patty, here’s some HIS­TORICAL REALITY:

In the early 1970s, Hoboken was not a safe, prosperous town. People wanted and chose to move out.

Here’s some CONTEMPORARY REALITY:Hoboken is a safe, prosperous town. People want to live here.

People are spending a lot of money here. The streets are indeed safer.

FUTURE REALITY:The waterfront is going to be developed and will generate more

money, jobs and living and recreational space.OBVIOUS REALITY:Steve Cappiello has been mayor for 12 years. To say that he had

nothing to do with "where Hoboken is today" is not only foolish but ignorant of reality. Yet, I can understand how Mr. Pasculli can be a little confused about reality. After all, I know who he has been hanging around with lately.

Mr. Pasculli, look around the town. The image is not "smokey," it’s crystal clear. People are buying and building and are proud.

Ineffective leadership over the last 12 years would have deterred and altered the progress you credit previous administrations with. Steve Cappiello’s sane, effective leadership did not deter the progress, it enhanced it.

When the smoke clears from your eyes, Mr. Pasculli, I ’m sure you’ll realize that, like it or not, Steve Cappiello has gotten the job done.

As a citizen of Hoboken, I hope and pray that Steve Cappiello decides to dedicate four more years to Hoboken’s rebirth. As a rela­tive, I know he doesn’t need the aggravation. You see, Mr. Pascul­li, you were right on one account in your article. I do love and respect my uncle. Not because of who he is or what he’s done for me, but because of what he has accomplished for the town that I love and work and live in.

Terry Cappiello LaBruno Educator, Academy of the Sacred Heart

Dec. 26, 1984

Vezzetti: I’ll undergo psychological testing if Cappiello takes a lie detector testDear Editor:

Now that Steve Cappiello has formally announced his intention to seek a fourth term as mayor, I am re-issuing my call for a formal,

open debate between the two of us. Mayor Cappiello and his key supporters have attempted to portray my unorthodox political be­havior as a clear indication of my so-called "mental instability" and my inability to lead this city. I welcome the opportunity for the Mayor to prove these allegations in public at Hoboken High School.

The Mayor has called for me to undergo psychological testing. I have gladly accepted and have urged in return that he undergo both psychological and lie-detector testing. The results of both sets of tests, administered to both of us, should be made public at the debate which I still feel should be held later this month.

The issues in Hoboken are so deep and our positions and respec­tive ability to deal with them so different that a debate between us, whoever wins the most points, can only improve the chances that a wise public decision will be made on May 14th. For the good of us all, let’s hope Steve Cappiello accepts my challenge as I have ac­cepted his and we can get on with the important job of going open­ly and honestly to the public.

Tom Vezzetti Jan. 6, 1985

Vezzetti is power-mad and incompetentDear Editor:

The "House of Cards" known as the Vezzetti campaign is crum­bling. Of course, any objective person who has observed Vezzetti knows that he is a power-mad fool without competence or decency.

The latest fiasco was the fundraising packet mailed last week. Vezzetti, a supposed proponent of ethics in government, used his councilman’s office and the City’s corporate seal for the purpose of raising campaign monies. This gross abuse should be investigated by the appropriate authorities who monitor election fundraising ac­tivities.

At last week’s council meeting, bully boy Vezzetti blew his top when confronted with his misuse of public office and Councilman Pasculli broke a microphone and ran out of the meeting. These two screamers, who sanctimoniously expound on every occasion, were caught with their pants down. They are hypocrites.

Edward Curtiss Feb. 20, 1985

I’m new, but I think Cappiello must have done something rightDear Editor:

Having moved to Hoboken early last year, I am one of perhaps thousands of new residents who will be participating in the mayoral election this spring. I enjoy life in Hoboken and plan on remaining for the foreseeable future, and because of that I am taking a serious interest in this campaign.

There seems to be some criticism directed toward Mayor Cappiel­lo and his administration, yet there seems to be an undercurrent of vagueness about it all. It’s very, very easy to sling mud and hurl idle insults, and it’s easy to make unsubstantiated accusations or imply wrongdoing by innuendo. Any intelligent voter can recognize a cheap shot. My initial impression is that the Mayor is being at­tacked for the very policies he should be praised for—the primary gripe seems to be Hoboken’s rocketing urban revival.

What the critics of growth do not realize, or perhaps do not wish to admit, is that this growth benefits everybody in the city regard­less of how long they have lived here or what their economic status is at the present time. Rising property values result in increased tax dollars, which in turn support the city services provided to all of us. The many retail businesses which now thrive in Hoboken con­tribute their share of tax dollars as well, in addition to meeting the needs of residents and providing plenty of employment. The city now has the economic energy of a gold rush "boom-town" but still has retained the warmth and civic pride of a small town. Few places to live can offer more.

My point in making these observations is that changes like these don’t just happen spontaneously. Good government, like the kind we’ve had under Mayor Cappiello, doesn’t just happen by chance. Hoboken wouldn’t have experienced its resurgence without the hard work, sound planning and active participation of its elected leaders. I suppose there are a lot of people who would like to turn back the clock, but they’re fooling themselves, and the voters, if they think they can do that.

Many external factors (proximity to Manhattan, shifting popula­tion patterns, the high rate of crime and high rents in New York City, lower New Jersey income taxes, etc.) have combined to as­

sure Hoboken’s destiny, and that destiny is unquestionably one of explosive growth.

The person who we will elect this spring has to have solid govern­ment experience, combined with a realistic vision of the future. We just can’t gamble on anyone who offers less. I’ll vote for Steve Cap­piello.

Christopher Henry Mar. 20, 1985

Henry’s only been here a year; he doesn’t know the "renaissance" is like a neutron bombDear Editor:

A comment on Christopher Henry’s rather articulate tribute to the political and economic acumen of Mayor Steve Cappiello.

Considering his length of residency (one year), Mr. Henry’s eval­uation of the Hoboken environment leaves much to be desired. As politics is not my cup of tea, Mayor Cappiello’s re-election is neither here nor there, but I do resent Mr. Henry’s statement that there are a lot of people in Hoboken who are trying to turn the clock back and are fooling themselves in the attempt.

As for turning the clock back, apparently Mr. Henry isn’t paying too much attention to the machinations of the Reagan administra­tion, but many of the Hoboken "clock-tumers" are an instantaneous lot, whose incomes, though slender, share an aesthetic satisfaction that foregoes luxury but maintains dignity.

The swashbuckling philosophy bom of the "boom town" phenomenon does not appeal to the Hoboken bom and bred, whatever their occupation.

An oversimplified analogy perhaps, but the so-called "renais­sance" can be likened to the neutron bomb, destroying the human environment but keeping the property intact. Redevelopment may have increased property values, but it has created the prospect of ex­tinction for the "clock-tumers."

I find Mr. Henry’s civic pride most admirable, but I think the secret of the whole situation is locked in the old cynical saw, "the more things change, the more they remain the same."

Yours truly, Ralph Ruggiere

Mar. 27, 1985

The city has deteriorated under CappielloDear Editor:

Since Christopher Henry has only been in town for less than a year, his misinformed views about how life has improved in Hoboken over the course of the Cappiello administration are per­haps understandable.

Both property taxes and rents have certainly skyrocketed during my nine years in Hoboken. By contrast, public services have at best stagnated and at worst seriously declined. Garbage was picked up six times a week back then. Today, it’s three times. The public school system can’t provide supervision during the lunch hour, a service the school I went to 30 years ago considered normal. At the Wallace School, toilet paper is not available in the bathrooms. A decent education which would enable Hoboken children to compete with those in the rest of the state in educational attainment con­tinues to be beyond the system’s grasp.

Parking problems have increased. Washington Street is increasing­ly impassable during business hours. Police response to crimes-in- progress is inadequate by any objective standard. Our parks are broken down and littered with glass. Animal waste and garbage con­tinue to fill our streets.

Rising property values are attractive to those who want to stay for a while, make a fast profit, and move on. For those of us who moved here to raise our families in a small, stable, multi-ethnic community, where civic participation could result in a better life for all of us, the Cappiello accomplishments are bleak indeed.

Sincerely, Joan Vermeulen

Mar. 27, 1985

Vezzetti is the "Clown Prince of our City"Dear editor:

While attending the political debate between the Mayoral can­didates held at the Hoboken High School on April 22, Mayoral can­didate Tom Vezzetti "The Clown Prince of our City Council," un­leashed a verbal attack upon my character, because I had the audacity to ask that he answer the questions presented to him by the audience instead of going on a political tirade.

Mr. Vezzetti stated that I as a Police Lieutenant in the City of Hoboken, was solely responsible for allowing the children of our city to run rampant in the streets. He further stated that this was due to the fact that I supported Steve Cappiello for re-election to the office of Mayor of our City.

To answer the first part of Mr. Vezzetti’s remarks, let me say that I do not agree that our children are running rampant in the streets, but if it were so, it is asinine to think that one member of the Police Department could have such awesome control to be solely responsible for it. This certainly does not lend much credibility to the rationale of this man who is seeking the highest political office our city has to offer.

To answer the second part of his remarks, he is most certainly cor­rect in the fact that I support Steve Cappiello for re-election to the office of Mayor of our great city. As a lifelong resident of our city...there is no doubt in my mind that we are now experiencing some of the best times this city has ever seen, with an even brighter future. We may all once again state with pride that we are "Hobokenites." They no longer laugh at Hoboken but envy it.

This, Mr. Vezzetti, was accomplished throughout the Cappiello years in office and you would do well to take a page from the Cap­piello political philosophy and THINK before you speak; this may keep you from constantly putting your foot in your mouth.

Sincerely, Frank R. Turso

May 1, 1985Vezzetti is Mr. Frontal AssaultDear Editor:

Tom Vezzetti is brash, honest, and dedicated. He is determined to give Hoboken residents an open, honest direct government where decisions can be reviewed upfront. There is nothing underhanded about the way Tom Vezzetti approaches government. He is Mr. Frontal Assault. Beneath his brusque exterior is a very intelligent man who possesses a singular dedication to better government. He uses a no frills approach which will clean up city hall.

Sincerely, Roger J. Dorian

May 8, 1985

If Hoboken is at its high point, why does Vezzetti criticize it?Dear Editor:

I have lived in Hoboken all my life (over 50 years) and I have seen the city at its worst and at its best. My observation of our com­munity is that it is currently at one of its highest points in history. It is a proud moment for me when I am asked by someone, "Where do you live?" "I live in Hoboken." The reaction is always the same. People feel good for me that I live in this town because it is such a desirable place to be.

Yet—why do I hear Tom Vezzetti and Steve Block constantly find­ing fault with Hoboken. Never once have I heard any words of praise for any part of our community. There seems to be something wrong with this negative approach. Hoboken has turned the comer. We have a wonderful city with nice people in residence and in busi­ness and if we maintain stability in our local government Hoboken will continue to be the place to live. I would like to ask Mr. Vezzet­ti, "If Hoboken is in such bad shape as he says, why are people so anxious to live and do business here?" Steve Cappiello must be doing something right.

Sincerely, John M. Smith

May 8, 1985

Real estate boom, not mayor, is to blameDear Editor:

I have lived in Hoboken for 20 years and have seen the town with its ups and downs. But we the people, or should I say, the tenants, seem to forget that it is not the Mayor who is to blame for what is happening in Hoboken. But it is the Real Estate Boom. Of course, the Mayor is getting the blame for it, he is the mayor and he will al­ways get the blame. Who else?We have forgotten all the good he has done for the town. If we

will only take the time to sit back and remember.I know, we the tenants are angry of what is happening, but I hear

there is going to be a fund raising program to help the tenants.We can do a lot if we vote for Mr. Cappiello (1A).If we can sit down and go speak to the Mayor I ’m sure he will lis-

ten and help us. Because if he does not know what is the problem how can he help us. There is a saying. Ask, and you will receive. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and it shall be opened to you.

Sincerely, Helping Hand May 29, 1985

I voted for Vezzetti because I wanted to stay in HobokenDear Editor:

Mr. Vezzetti won. I voted for the man in both the election and in the runoff. Why? Because thanks to the old administration, I am personally going to be ousted from my apartment in Hoboken. I am one of the many middle class inhabitants here who could not afford to purchase my apartment when the building went condo.

I do not object to landowners who live in part of the property they rent out or at least live in the city where their property is located. But I do object to housing laws that make it possible for speculators to buy up property where they may never plan to live. I object to laws that do not protect the rights of Hoboken’s citizens before looking out for the rights of wealthy opportunists who have come into our city to make a buck.

$165,000 for a simple one-bedroom apartment is insane! Who can even begin to think of spending that kind of money? I make an okay living, but six figure condo prices are out of the question. By changing the housing legislation to say you must reside in the house or the condo you buy, Hoboken could have thwarted speculators and kept condo prices more realistic. With fair pricing, some of us who currently make Hoboken our home would have had a chance to keep Hoboken as our home.

I hope Mr. Vezzetti will change our housing regulations—not just look at them, but change them so that, unlike me in two years, other residents will be able to say, "Yes, I still live in Hoboken."

Sincerely, Charles G. Bolcik

June 26, 1985

Washington Street, Hoboken.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Yuppies Strike Back

In June 1985, the inconceivable happened. "Crazy" Tom Vezzetti defeated Steve Cappiello, a 12-year machine mayor.

It was not something the people of Hoboken took lightly. Shatter­ing the machine in Hoboken was an event of such political mag­nitude the only thing comparable on a national level would be a Marxist takeover of the presidency. And more than a few machine Hobokenites referred to the new administration as communists. The losers even tried a recall, especially after the New York Daily News heralded Vezzetti as "The Wackiest Mayor in America," who makes New York City’s boisterous Ed Koch "look like an intro­vert." Vezzetti, understandably, was proud of the article and had it framed for his office.

A burgeoning cult-hero, the new mayor continued to pound the pavement, campaigning for elections that are held as many as four or five times a year (including primaries, school board, city coun­cil, etc.). His inveterate humor and celebrity status kept him popular with the newcomers, while the oldtimers tried desperately to rebuild their busted machine.

Vezzetti and his administration, however, had a lot to learn about running a city. Despite a few disastrous attempts to ease the city’s housing crisis and impede its gentrification, the influx of young af­fluent people into Hoboken continued unabated.

There are several stages in the "revitalization" of a neighborhood, according to urban theorist Rolf Goetze. First come the eccentrics and artists looking for a cheap place to live. They’re followed by young childless couples and professional singles looking for adven- tiire-to be on the vanguard of something deemed "hip." Then the media takes notice and along come the more conventional "mainstreamers," who are primarily concerned about low risk and personal comfort. Finally the "stragglers" move in, undisturbed by

the preceding transformation. For them, the city is little more than a place to live.When these last two groups arrive, the "discovered" area is no

longer a "discovery." The "frontier" has been settled, and the run- down-but-fimky neighborhood that attracted the pioneers is becom­ing another extension of a homogenous urban world.

By late 1985, the mainstreamers were piling into Hoboken and the real estate market was peaking. There were about 1000 condos in the city, and another 1000 on the way. Few sold for under $100,000.The letters reached a turning point about this time. Though the

howl of discontent continued, a few residents bandied the boldest declarations yet in support of gentrification, displacement, and the yuppie invasion.

Displacement is not good or bad-it’s naturalDear Editor:

H.L. Mencken said that half the sorrows of the world are caused by making false assumptions. One assumption that seems to be causing a furor in Hoboken is that displacement is bad. Politicians use the subject as a focal point of campaigns, and the newspapers are rife with articles discussing this most perplexing issue.

In Hoboken, displacement has come to mean "foreigners," "out­siders" who are moving into the city and displacing the natives. To a disinterested observer, one with a modest understanding of his­tory, this shifting of ethnic groups within a city, would not seem so unique. One can find numerous examples in the history of the world where one group of people have displaced another. The Spaniards displaced the native inhabitants of South America, the Danes displaced the Saxons of England, or, if we do not want to travel so far from our shores, the Dutch, French, British, and Anglo- Americans displaced the whole of North America, the indigenous Indian.

The point I want to make is that displacement has been going on since man came down from the trees and began walking on two legs. Displacement can be violent or peaceful, it can be the reason or the result of other factors. The prime mover of displacement is, and history will bear this out, economics. The economics of a par­ticular situation can be relatively simple. Take for example an Arab

tribe in Saudi Arabia who owns a certain amount of land and cul­tivates it. If the rains do not fall and produce a sufficient crop for his tribe, the hungry Arab will try to displace a neighboring tribe and steal what food they have. These raids were common in times past and were often bloody. I call this example simple because the motivation for the raid was hunger, and in the late 20th century in America though most of us have enough to eat, there are economic forces at work that still inspire displacement.

Displacement, per se, is neither good or bad. One’s feelings are based on where one stands in relation to it. One could without too much fear of censure posit the theory that the expansion and development of the United States of America is one long saga of displacement. Any reader of American history is amazed at the avaricious real estate transactions that continually expanded the bor­ders of the original 13 colonies.

But to return to Hoboken. Waves and waves of different im­migrants, in varying proportions, have populated Hoboken. To hear some people talk today, one would be forced to believe that dis­placement is occurring here for the first time, that only one ethnic group is being taken advantage of.

Most of the din and cry I hear these days is the lament of missed opportunity. Most everyone loves to stand on the comers of Hoboken and talk about the skyrocketing real estate prices. Is it not ironic that as little as ten years ago you could hardly give away a brownstone? Hoboken was a slum. A disaster area. Old families of Hoboken deserted the city for the suburbs like rats off a ship. Why? Because they were being displaced by another group, another batch of foreign speaking people.

And because this group brought their culture with them, the city decayed. There can be no argument to this. The dumpsters that line the streets today are carrying away the rubble and garbage that belonged to a culture that did not, for whatever reason one cares to name, improve their home. My parents were displaced from Czechoslovakia and came to the states every bit as poor and ig­norant as the waves of immigrants today, but unlike some of the im­migrants today, who wish to retain the "ways of the old country," my parents, in the midst of confusion and poverty, sought to im­prove their lot. In other words, in a country where "the business of America is business" they learned the language and the rules of the

new game and adjusted. The Hoboken one sees being carried away in the dumpsters is the Hoboken of people who said to hell with their new home and let the brownstones rot; let the slate sidewalks that were put into place so painstakingly by another earlier group of immigrants fill up with bottles, garbage, in a word, the refuse of a people who simply do not care.

And now, when the sounds of the big wheels of American economics begin inexorably to grind and be heard, who is it that cries, "Wolf, wolf!" Oh, irony of ironies—the people who were so willing to abandon Hoboken and the people who came and can­nibalized a once noble city.

All this talk of keeping Hoboken Hoboken, saving the ethnic character, etc., is nonsense. Whose Hoboken do you want to preserve? The original Hoboken of the Lenni Lenape Indians? The Dutch Hoboken of the 17th and 18th centuries? The German Hoboken of the 19th century? The Italian Hoboken? Everything that grows changes. It is idealistic folly to try and preserve any­thing. Life does not take place in a vacuum.

Today in Hoboken one hears opprobrious remarks about New York developers and yuppies storming the gates of "our" little Hoboken. It seems like a lot of sour grapes to me. Cities all over the globe, and throughout man’s history, have changed.

These shouts of "Displacement" need to be examined with a little more historical perspective and knowledge of American economics instead of the rampant, narrow, and piteous lamentations of any one particular group.

Sincerely, Pedro Lamb

Sept. 18, 1985

Insights into Hitler and Pedro LambDear Editor:

On several occasions I have been asked by people in our com­munity why I did not respond to certain racist and inhuman words which disgraced the pages of an otherwise fine publication such as The Hoboken Reporter. The words were contained in a letter published in your newspaper by a Pedro Lamb of 9/18/85.

My response to the people was that you do not qualify garbage by giving it a semblance of importance. His callousness and complete

disregard for humanity, coupled with his lack of sensitivity toward the human rights of others, only serve to give me some insight into what Hitler must have felt for the Jewish people.

Juan R. Garcia Executive Director, C.U.N.A.

Oct. 25, 1985

Bigotry breath has a twisted philosophyDear Editor:

The remarks of "Pedro Lamb" (The Reporter, 9/18/85) cannot go unanswered because of his obvious racism, bigotry and bias against the Hispanic people of Hoboken.

So displacement is not bad, eh, "Pedro"? So, it’s a part of life and according to your twisted philosophy, a part of Americana shall we say "as American as apple pie"? So what if entire families have lost their lives? So what if an entire ethnic community is being rejected and ejected from their homes and their city with total disregard for their legal rights? This is the way things are done in America as you see so let it continue, right, "Pedro"?

Wrong again, Bigotry Breath!! This is Hoboken, New Jersey, U.S. of A. Not downtown Leningrad, East Johannesburg or even Prague, Czechoslovakia, the land of your forefathers from whence your parents came to these shores. By the way, "Pedro," have you ever asked them why they came to this country? Would you believe dis­placement? How about oppression? Hate? Racial prejudice? Religious persecution? These are also forms of displacement, but displacement is not bad according to you.

If more people in this country shared your narrow-minded and ig­norant way of thinking we would be living in the Fascist Germany of the ’30s and ’40s. Then we could have pogroms galore and a ghetto could really be called a GHETTO complete with barbed wire. Or perhaps we would don our white hoods and sheets and bum crosses and have a few old fashioned hangin’s every week. Let’s go fetch us a few foreigners, Pedro!! Wait a minute. "Pedro Lamb"...Sounds phoney to me. What are you hiding, boy????

I have been reared on firsthand accounts of persecution by my grandparents and my mother. Ever hear of Warsaw, Pedro? As an American, I abide by the constitution of my country and I respect

the rights of my fellow Americans. You see, "Pedro," the foreigners you are referring to are American by birth. They are not im­migrants from the old country. Alaskans and Hawaiians are not im­migrants or foreigners when they come to America. And guess what, "Pedro"? So are Puerto Ricans.

So take your history, your logic, and your rhetoric and put it up your racist anus along with your storm trooper’s boots.

Sincerely, Rachel Berzich-Perez

Oct. 2, 1985

Thank you, Pedro, for expressing my feelingsDear Editor:

I am surprised that The Hoboken Reporter printed the letter from Rachel Berzich-Perez (10/2/85). The bulk of her message was a nar­row-minded cheap shot against Pedro Lamb, but specifically, her closing remarks were in very poor taste.

By contrast, the letter from Pedro Lamb (9/18/85) on the subject of displacement was an intelligent and provocative assessment of the changes taking place in Hoboken. Thank you, Mr. Lamb, for putting into words what so many of us are feeling. The decent, so­cially conscious people in town—newcomers and oldtimers alike— who are committing their finances, time and energy to a better, cleaner Hoboken say, "That’s history,” to those who did not care.

Marie Hunter Nov. 27, 1985

Lamb chopDear Editor:

In response to Pedro Lamb’s letter on displacement, I would like to present a different point of view. If one embraces the passive philosophy that an attempt to preserve anything is mere idealistic folly, one inevitably begins to view life with the jaded cynicism Mr. Lamb displays in his letter. To balance the admittedly human trait of greed (Mr. Lamb prefers the more antiseptic "American economics") are other human traits: compassion and generosity. Per­haps, idealistically, I believe our society is sound only as long as these forces remain in balance.

Therefore, in the interest of presenting an opposing view on the issue of displacement, I ’d like to publicly thank those with the "piteous lamentations." I want to thank the politicians and members of my community who have the foresight to know when it’s time to call for a slowdown in "progress," and the courage to speak out. I want to thank the landlords (my own included) who are not indis­criminately raising rents. I want to thank all the peoples of Hoboken who came before me and who helped to make this town the special place it is. I want to thank those of the newcomers who are trying to join the community instead of jumping on the bandwagon. I want to express concern and support for the families and the elderly who have lost their homes. I want to tell those who have lost their businesses that their stores and cafes are missed and that our neighborhood is poorer for their lack. Sour grapes? Not at all. Everyone is not interested in power and money. A cup of cheap (but terrific) cafe con leche with an old man who’s got an interest­ing story is one example of what we’re trying to save.

Sorry, Mr. Lamb, but I care about this town and I consider it a responsibility to preserve the things I care about. With the ad­vantages we have of historical perspective and our increased aware­ness of "American economics," we might not have to suffer the same fate as those Lenni Lenape Indians.

Sincerely, Christina DeVries

Jan. 22, 1985

Hoboken has become a square mile of duplexes, condos and camocondosDear Editor:

The Mile Square Saga—The Renaissance continues and the city is literally being ripped up

block by block.Derricks, graders, booms, flatbed trucks, and construction trucks

over our street buckling under the weight.Dumpsters occupy two or three parking locations all over town,

not for days or weeks, but now for months.What type of permit is issued to permit contractors to tie up the

streets for this length of time?

You can hardly walk a few blocks on our city streets before you are forced out into the street as sidewalks are blocked by construc­tion companies.

Hoboken has become a mile of duplexes, condos, and camocon- dos—a camouflaged condo is an old wooden tinder box house cos­metically done up with a stone-faced front.

These are the same apartments that my grandparents paid $23 per month, six railroad rooms (which I used to rollerskate through ’til I ’d get caught).

These same rooms have now been razed and split into two three room exclusive apartments, $700 for you and $695 for me.

Some of the remodeling leaves only the front of the building, held together with wooden beams for support; we’ve been lucky with mild weather, but get a winter wind and we will have a house col­lapse.

The weight of construction trucks have increased Hoboken’s well- known pothole streets, and the well-known fix for potholes, the iron plate, can be heard all over town at all hours of the night as vehicles run over the loose ends.

After chasing out a lot of old time Hobokenites we now have dis­turbed our oldest citizens, the Hoboken water rat. As kids we used to practice to be baseball pitchers by throwing rocks at them in empty lots on Newark Street.With construction disturbing their nests, the furry ones are running

all over streets and gutters.We should advertise hot and cold running condos with fur coats in

the lobbies at no extra price.Displacement runs rampant — there was a time when if rent on

First Street went up to $85 per month, you’d look for an apartment on Second Street. For $60.

Years ago the city used to publish a list of condemned houses, par­cels of land, lofts, factories, lost by taxes.

I don’t really know if the city itself owns any more property, but why give it to outside developers?

Have the city of Hoboken keep the land, have local contractors do the work—the city as a landlord could get federal funds for rehab and keep these locations for Hoboken people.

During World War I, the dough boys knew where they wanted to go, if they lived or died.

As per General "Black Jack" Pershing quoted, "Heaven, Hell, or Hoboken!"

Jack O’Brien Nov. 13, 1985

I’d like to put in a good word for gentrificationDear Editor:

As a New Yorker, I would like to put in a good word for gentrification. It has made an amazing improvement in a stagnant and dying Hoboken. When I first came here, in 1963, Hoboken was a slum, choked by welfare recipients the way algae kills a lake. Nostalgiacs pretend to lament the change, as if they really preferred to see a bunch of winos in front of the American Hotel and on every downtown comer, instead of pretty young women funneling from all over Hoboken into the neck of the PATH station. What really worries the nostalgiacs, however, is not that the town is be­coming less hospitable to the bums and slums, but to them. They’re afraid of losing their cheap apartments, but won’t admit this. In­stead, they shake their heads and mutter sanctimoniously about Hoboken losing its character. Where were they a few years ago, when nobody gave a damn about Hoboken or its character? Everybody expected it to go down the tubes any day. All the B&Rs (Hoboken bom and raised) who owned houses were desperate to sell them. Talk about character: where were they when, in an orgy of destruction, three blocks of River Street and three blocks of Hud­son Street (the most traditional area in Hoboken, with its old waterfront bars and sleazy hotels) were demolished to make way for ugly highrises and parking lots? The B&Rs who were there didn’t lift a finger to stop the mayor and his cronies. The only thing they were concerned about, naturally, was how that big money pie cooked up by all the wholesale demolition and construction was going to be divided: yummy, all those contracts and bribes and kickbacks.

No, Hoboken’s renaissance, begun in the seventies, was not the work of its B&Rs, but of outsiders. Its native sons and daughters were too busy bad-mouthing Hoboken and trying to sell out and move away to the suburbs to see its potential until it was too late; then they bad-mouthed the successful "Noo Yawkuhs" who bought and renovated the unwanted houses and made the rebirth possible.

Now the B&Rs with the loudest and most self-pitying voices ("I been heah all my life, and I can’t affowd a house because the Noo Yawkuhs are coming ovah and pushing prices up"), those who had missed the boat, in other words, boiled with resentment against those who hadn’t. It wasn’t as if the Boat of Opportunity slipped in at night and sailed at dawn; no, it was tied up at the pier for years, in plain sight of everybody, the subject of endless conversation, and when it did cast off its ropes it was in a kind of reluctant slow-mo­tion, with many a warning blast of its whistle. Only the village idiots missed it.

Sincerely, D.M. Weed

Nov. 20, 1985

The buffoon is talking out of his hatDear Editor:

I ’m sure that many longtime Hoboken residents were deeply in­sulted by the letter written by D.M. Weed. His condemnation of those of us who are concerned about the extraordinary amount of development, displacement of the poor and other problems facing this city is filled with arrogance (some may say not surprising com­ing from a New Yorker) and ignorance.

I can only assure your readers that Mr. Weed is "talking out of his hat." I grew up on 10th and Willow during the ’60s and ’70s in a neighborhood that still has many of the people and stores that were there when I was a child.

The audacity of this buffoon to say that many of the hard-working families that have lived in Hoboken for generations were bad- mouthing the city and dividing big money pies. Most of the bad- mouthing of Hoboken usually came from big mouths like this character who is more interested in "boats of opportunity" than human beings.

Hoboken, like most cities, faced economic hardship during the late ’60s and early ’70s (I’m sure New Yorkers can recall the problems across the river). The city did have a much larger seg­ment of the population that was poor. Of course, there is little room on Mr. Weed’s boat for the less fortunate, let alone, "welfare recipients."

To say that Hoboken was just a city of crooks, slums, winos and

bums is absurd. This is a city that is changing, some of it is good and some not so good. And people who think like Mr. Weed should get on their "boat of opportunity" and set sail for other shores.

P.M. Drexel Nov. 27, 1985

Why don’t you move back to "Noo Yawk"?Dear Editor:

Answering D.M. Weed’s letter of November 20, 1985.It sounds to me with all your complaints that your move to the

slum as you referred to Hoboken in 1963 has not been a happy one. So why didn’t you move back to "Noo Yawk" where you came from? Why stay in a town that has winos and welfare recipients, or better yet, why did you move here in the first place?

The B&Rs of Hoboken really never wanted you "Noo Yawkahs" here anyway and still don’t.

A Native of Hoboken Who Stayed Nov. 27; 1985

Why did Weed move to a slum?Dear Editor:

In an economy of words, I would like to reply to D.M. Weed’s recent rather loquacious letter of 11/20 referring to Hoboken’s bom- and-raised class with their inarticulate grammatical (Noo Yawkuhs) inflections as "the village idiots."

As a former Noo Yawk resident, D.M. Weed claimed that when he first moved to Hoboken in 1963, it was more or less a slum. I find it inconceivable that someone of Weed’s obvious talents would move to a slum, unless he felt psychologically at home, or perhaps the Noo Yawk parvenus with their loose surplus bucks were in­filtrating his little niche.

As for the Hoboken "village idiots" who missed the boat of oppor­tunity, they were more likely than not loading them. These same dese, dem and dose guys are easily recognizable by the telltale slump of the shoulders created by lifting 100 lb. sacks on the docks or hoisting hods at some construction site to earn the wherewithal to send their progeny to some prestigious preppy school to learn

how to pronounce pretentious words.Judging by D.M. Weed’s letter, I find it reasonable to assume that

the reason Hoboken is losing its cultural character is because it readily adopts these orphans from the Noo Yawk storm.

Ralph Ruggiere Nov. 27, 1985

Weed, we know who you are!Dear Editor:

About the letter of 11/20/85 signed by D.M. Weed: first of all, sugah, you have ascribed a southern accent to we Hobokenites with your inane spelling. Secondly, we know who you are! While you actually used your own initials this time, you still do not have the guts to sign your name to your so-called letters. Ashamed to? You should be! Afraid to? Perhaps you should be! We village idiots are well aware of what you missed, and one day you will come face to face with that realization, too. By the way, you are also a liar, call­ing yourself a New Yorker! Have you forgotten playing on Hudson Street as a child? But that’s okay, we, too, would prefer to think of you as an outsider. So, whether you call yourself Pedro Lamb or D.M. Weed, the latter is more fitting in that the primary definition of weed is, "a plant of no value, usually rank growth that tends to choke out more desirable plants."

Terri Ratti Nov. 27, 1985

Weed, how can you be so naive?Dear Editor:

In answer to a letter printed in your paper and signed by a Mr. Weed, I must react in the most negative way I can. Mr. Weed, you may be only half right about your beliefs and ideas, and there you may be half wrong. You wrote of the change for the better for Hoboken with winos fading from sight in front of the American Hotel, being replaced by pretty young women passing by to and from the PATH station. Mr. Weed also wrote about the (Hoboken bom and raised) who didn’t seem to care about this town, and many were desperate to sell their homes when they thought Hoboken was going down the tubes. You also mention the

waterfront bars and sleazy hotels, which was referred to as "The Barbary Coast," which was tom down to make way for highrises and parking lots. You also state that Hoboken’s native sons and daughters were too busy bad-mouthing Hoboken and running out or selling out before they could realize its potential.

Mr. Weed, in honesty, how can one be so naive to think like you do?

For your information, the American Hotel was converted into an office building after a fire destroyed much of the building, killing two winos. I believe that is how you referred to these poor souls. A few years ago 22 more lives were lost uptown in another fire where there now is converted apartment houses. A few years ago on Columbus Day two little boys suffocated to death in a fire at 67 Park Avenue. On Washington Street and 11th Street, eleven more lives were lost in another fire and a condo is now in that spot. On April 14, 1983, 14 more lives were consumed in a horrible fire on 14th Street. I believe a vacant lot is all that’s left there but you can bet not for long. Now Mr. Weed, some of the welfare recipients you wrote about as algae infesting a lake are gone to make way for what you termed "gentrification." There has been an amazing im­provement but at what cost? As for the "Barbary Coast," located on River and Hudson Streets, whether it be an eyesore to you or not, this was as much a landmark for Hoboken as the East Village is to New York, with all its weirdos and junkies and sweety pies. Many of us B&Rs may have missed that Boat of Opportunity that you speak of only because many of us couldn’t afford to pay the fare. In closing, this village idiot can only suggest to you "Noo Yaw- kuhs" to pick up your jogging shoes and your backpacks and jog out to Arizona. There’s a lot of room out there for gentrification. While you’re at it, you can take the developers and the builders along with their blueprints with you. The Bom and Raised Hoboken Natives like this town pretty much the way it is.

Respectfully, Old B&R Native Son

Dec. 4, 1985The truth hurts, says WeedDear Editor:

I ’m sorry I turned over such a big rock. Heaven knows, I never meant to offend any innocent person. I like Hoboken and I like

most of its people, quaint accents and all. But what anger! Alas, it must be proof of the saying, "Nothing hurts like the truth."

To forestall Terri Ratti and her gang (the "we" she refers to?) from attacking some poor citizen (whose only offense was to grow up on Hudson Street) in a tragic case of mistaken identity, I urgent­ly wish to assure everyone who may be involved in some local feud that I am not a.k.a. Pedro Lamb, whoever he is, and I did not grow up on Hudson Street.

As for Mr. Ruggiere (who should have deleted the very first phrase of his letter and every other word thereafter if he was really interested in "economy of words"), and P.M. Drexel, well, these people were so hot to reply to the insult they imagined my letter contained that they didn’t read it. But this is the case with many in­veterate letter to the editor writers, most of whom are quarrelsome cranks, has-beens, or would-be’s with axes to grind.

Including, perhaps, yours truly.D.M. Weed

Dec. 11, 1985

Hoboken was never a slum; It was just a little poorerDear Editor:

Being a lifelong, bom and raised in Hoboken citizen, I ’d like to comment on some of the articles in your paper during the past few months.

First, I ’d like to say to Mr. and Mrs. D.M. Weed, "If you don’t like Hoboken, go back to New York." It’s only seventy-five cents one way.

This town was never a slum. It was just a little poorer in the ’60s.As for people taking the money and running, they left because

they got tired of living so close together.Hoboken may look better on the outside, but it’s not any better

than it was 20 years ago. The rents are way too high and we don’t need condos.The only ones benefitting from the Hoboken Restoration are the

greedy landlords and the developers.The previous administration let it get out of hand. How many of

them got displaced?Lastly, I think they should stop the fireworks at the feasts or at

least limit them to just one time of the day when everyone knows they are coming.

To begin with, they’re unnecessary. I respect their right to celebrate, but it’s disturbing. Did you ever see how paranoid a dog gets when these fireworks go off? It’s a shame animals have to suf­fer for the pleasure of a few people.

There are also some of us who work overnight and have to sleep during the day. We don’t want to be awakened by these fireworks. It’s about time these people had some consideration for someone else besides themselves.

Thomas Chickizola Jan. 22,1986

Poverty hurtsDear Editor:

I was glad Mr. Weed wrote back and explained that he didn’t mean to hurt any innocent people, and that he did like most of the Hobokenites.

I was an immigrant who came here a couple of years ago. My kids were small and I felt very lonely and lost in a new country, but not for long.

When the people came to know about my situation, they helped in all the ways they could. They found me a job, and an apartment. They gave us clothes. They even watched my kids when I was at work. I had an accent, but in spite of that my first boss hired me as a salesperson.

In spite of my job I had to take supplementary help because my company didn’t have medical insurance, and my little son got lead poisoning and I needed medical coverage.

Well, years have passed. Some of my kids have moved out and are doing well on their own. I am working but I still need that medi­cal coverage. What I am trying to point out is sometimes due to their circumstances, people have to take help and not because they like to. Nobody likes to be poor, and it is not nice to say things about poverty. It hurts.

There is a lot of hate and war going on in this world. Let us with

our love and understanding of each other’s feelings make it a better place to live.

A Hobokenite Jan. 22, 1986

P.S. People of Hoboken, me and my family love you and thank you for all your help and kindness shown through the years to us.

Quarrelsome cranks, has-beens, and would-be axe grindersDear Editor:

In response to D.M. Weed’s letter of December 11 ("The truth hurts, says Weed"), I would like to say that if the gentleman wants to include himself in that category of inveterate writers whom he classifies as quarrelsome cranks, has-beens, or would-be axe grinders, that’s his business, but to quote the famous film magnate word-master Sam Goldwyn, "include me out."

I was under the impression that the primary purpose of writing let­ters to the editor was to express one’s particular opinion and not to be psychologically impaled on "someone’s pugnacious pen."

As most of us are more or less steerage passengers on life’s good ship "Lollipop" and are forced to pay first class fares, I believe that there are more important issues at stake than getting involved in verbal fisticuffs. Those who just received their first winter fuel-oil bill will understand.

OOPS! I ’m ending my commentary because my dog is barking up a storm, which more likely than not means that there is a real estate canvasser lurking about. My ancient pooch is totally blind and near­ly deaf, but fortunately he has an acute sense of smell—if you catch my drift.

Ralph Ruggiere Jan. 22, 1986

The Feast of the Madonna dei Martiri.

CHAPTER EIGHT

KABOOM! It’s the Feast

They line the streets in their Sunday best, chattering in rapid-fire Italian dialects with family and friends. The heavy smell of zep- poles and sausages wafts through the air, as the crowds clutch their disc cameras and anxiously await the moment when a life-size statue of the Blessed Mother is carried out of the local church. Adorned with gold, watches, wedding rings—every type of jewelry imaginable—the Madonna is paraded through the city to "oohs" and "ahhs," cheers and applause, and a few impassioned fits of tears. Meanwhile, the marching band starts up and—Kaboom!—bombs burst in the summer sky.

All told, the Feast of the Madonna dei Martin is a combination of Midnight Mass and the Fourth of July. It’s religion with a kick and a bang, starting with a nine-day novena, during which services are highlighted by small explosions outside the church.

As most feast fans will tell you, the tradition goes back hundreds of years. In the 11th century, a few men from Molfetta, Italy, found a painting of the Blessed Mother in their fishing nets. They brought the object to the shore of their village on the Adriatic Sea, and, a few miracles later, proclaimed her patron saint of fishermen.

Soon, the painting inspired a seaside chapel, which lead to an an­nual celebration—the Feast of the Madonna dei Martiri (Mother of Martyrs). Hundreds of years later, the villagers still cram into boats every September 8 and float the statue from its coastal "Sanctuario" to the center of the town. On the way, worshippers celebrate and pray, shout praise and shoot fireworks. The younger children dive in and out of the clear, blue Adriatic.

In the early 1900s, many Molfettesi found fishing wasn’t what it used to be, and left their little town to join family and friends in America. They brought the feast with them, from the white seaside piazzas and Moorish domes of Molfetta, to the worn pavement and

gritty tenements of Hoboken.A few concessions had to be made. Instead of floating the statue,

devotees carried it through the streets, rocking the idol back and forth to simulate the waves of the sea. They also changed the day of the feast to take advantage of the long Labor Day weekend. Otherwise, the American Molfettesi approach the celebration with the same fervor as those in the old country. As many as 20,000 people—many from out of town—have been participating in the event each year since it started in 1927.

At one time, Hoboken’s Italians celebrated a dozen or so feasts each summer. All honored different saints, or derived from tradi­tions of various European villages. They started disappearing in the ’50s, as the Italians headed for the suburbs. Today, only three remain: St. Ann’s, Marie SS Di Montevergine, and Madonna dei Martiri, the largest of the three.

All the feasts involve novenas, processions, celebrations, Italian food, musical entertainment and, of course, "feast bombs." The loud, colorless fireworks are detonated in either block-long strips, or aerial salutes propelled from ground-level cannons called "maroons." Both the religious group sponsoring the feast and in­dividual devotees hire professional pyrotechnicians for an assort­ment of the ear-shattering blasts. Worshippers sometimes pay hundreds of dollars to have their street lit up in a long, fiery burst that sets off nearby car alarms and leaves clouds of blue smoke hanging in the sticky summer air.

In 1986, there were about two dozen of these freelance feast bom­bers, according to one fireworks company hired for the festivities. Each one paid for several salutes to their favorite saint.

Feast organizers claim the bombs are essential to announce the beginning of the celebration. In addition, the blasts also play a role in the religious aspect of the celebration, says Vincenzo DePinto, 70, who has helped the Society Madonna dei Martiri put on their feast since 1934. "Fireworks are part of the devotion,” he states. "Without devotion, the feast is nothing. There’s more devotion with the fireworks."

DePinto explains the Society shoots off about six aerial salutes for each night of the novena, and several more on the day of the proces­sion. Combined with independent feast bombs, the Feast of the Madonna dei Martiri is responsible for hundreds of deafening

A handicapped woman weeps at the base of a statue of the Blessed Mother during the 1986 Feast of the Madonna dei Martiri.

booms in the last two weeks of summer. And that is only one of three feasts.

Although smaller, the Feast of St. Ann’s prompts several hundred explosions during its final procession on July 26. The Montever- gine celebration, which takes place at the end of July/beginning of August, involves nearly a week of nightly maroon blasts, and a full weekend of block-busting booms. To the untrained ear, bombs burst over Hoboken all summer long.

For many newcomers, the fireworks are bewildering, savage, or just plain annoying. But to feast organizers, the "bombs" are the soul of the celebration. When asked what the feast would be like without fireworks, DePinto responds without hesitation.

"Dead," he murmurs, looking mournfully aside at the walls of his kitchen, where the only two photographs hanging depict the Molfet- ta feast and its Hoboken equivalent. "It’s no feast. People wouldn’t enjoy it."

The Hoboken Reporter received one letter in 1984 complaining about the feast bombs, and six criticizing or supporting the issue in 1985. But in 1986, the issue exploded louder than a stack of

maroons. Once a letter signed "Shaken up in Hoboken" appeared in the September 7 issue, the newspaper received mail from readers on the topic for the rest of the year. As many as 30 or 40 letters ar­rived each week, and by 1987 there was a two-month wait for publi­cation. In December, the paper started a special "Feast Letters" sec­tion on its editorial page.

Feast fireworks are a nuisanceDear Editor:

I called police headquarters on Sunday, August 31, to complain about the fireworks regarding a religious feast happening in Hoboken.

I was told that the Society of this feast was given a permit to shoot these fireworks. I am assuming that the people that issued this permit were out of town away from the noise, the barking dogs, the crying children, and the people in St. Mary Hospital and the people in this town who were jumping out of their skins with this noise at 11 p.m. at night.

TRADITION? TRADITION MY FOOT!I am writing this letter to vent my spleen. To celebrate a feast is

beautiful—but why the noise, does the Saint hear the patrons more? This type of celebration has always been beyond my comprehen­sion. What is more incredible is that people make contributions to pay for this noise.

I am a religious person who prays in the quiet of the church or in my home. I do not throw a molotov cocktail for the Gods to hear me.

If people wish to contribute in honor of this Saint why not con­tribute to the American Cancer Fund, American Heart Fund, to the starving children of the world or to some organization that would make their Saint smile?

Remember, after these bombs explode all you get is the shakes and a lot of litter to clean up. If these contributions were given to a charity we may get results that may benefit our families.

Change the tradition for the better, stop the fireworks and give the money to the needy.

Shaken Up In Hoboken Sept. 7, 1986

"Shaken In Hoboken" should take his "spleen" and go back where he came fromDear Editor:

How would you like your "spleen" sauteed in some good Italian oil and garlic?

This feast is a tradition! I ’ll my foot your BUTT!How dare you insult something you don’t understand! If you

don’t like it, take your "spleen" and go back where you came from! It’s people like you that cause the "Great Hoboken Divide" be­tween the old-timers and newcomers. In my 52 years in this town no one ever made such asinine remarks as yours.

Vito DePinto Sept. 21, 1986

"Shaken In Hoboken" Is self-centeredDear Editor:

Did your "spleen" ever hear the old saying "Tis better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and be a fool."

Anna Lanza Sept. 21, 1986

If yuppies don’t like feast, they can leaveDear Editor:

Obviously, you must be a New Yorker, because no one else would complain.

This feast has been celebrated in this manner for generations, and then people like you move in and think you can take over. Who the h— do you think you are! If you can’t put up with one day of Beautiful Noise, maybe you should pack up your briefcase and go back where you came from, yuppie!

If you don’t like the sound of fireworks, maybe we should also stop celebrating the Fourth of July, because I ’m sure that is also a nuisance to you!

As far as tradition, I bet you don’t even celebrate Christmas or Easter!

People from all over the state drive up on Labor Day weekend for this feast which you think is a nuisance.

It’s bad enough you yuppies took away our St. Ann’s Feast. Yes, that used to be blocks long, now they have to have it in a parking lot.

The money from the feast went to a good cause. It supported the church and school of St. Ann. We have to support our Catholic schools, as well as public, before they turn them into con­dominiums. So more people like you can move in.

Mrs. R. Porta A Hoboken Native

Sept. 14, 1986

Don’t take away our traditionDear Editor:

For more than two hundred years, the feast has been celebrated with fireworks. Just because you have no tradition does not mean that we don’t! You took our town, and now you’re taking our last foothold, our religious freedom!

What gives you the right to condemn our religious practices? Do I go to where you practice your faith (if you have one) and damn you? Once a year is all we have to celebrate. You should be ashamed of yourself.

L. Ortizio Sept. 14, 1986

How dare "Shaken in Hoboken" insult feast!To "Shaken in Hoboken"

Tradition, isn’t that what life is about?These feasts are a blessing for the town and their people.Maybe you don’t believe in God, but many do. A little respect is

in order, wouldn’t you say?Maria DePinto Sept. 21, 1986

"Shaken in Hoboken" made uncalled for attack on feastDear Editor:

Your attack on the feast was uncalled for! How could you as an outsider understand tradition? What’s wrong, don’t you like Italians

or Catholics? It’s a damn shame that your kind has taken over our town. What next, are you going to close our churches!

Vito Mezzini Sept. 21, 1986

Why is "Shaken in Hoboken" trying to kill our town?To Shaken In Hoboken:

I am not a well woman, at 81 years and have seen many things change. Why do you people come and take our homes, our town, and our traditions and dare to take them apart? We don’t hurt you. I am a lonely old woman who has many good memories of the hap­piness I spent with my family and friends at this feast. Why are you people trying to kill this town? This is Hoboken, not New York. Leave the few that are left alone, we’ll die out soon, but once a year make an old lady happy. Let me celebrate my belief as I have for 81 years.

Luciana DeGennaro Sept. 21, 1986

Feast proponents were vindictiveDear Editor:

I would like to thank you for publishing all those informative editorials on "Shaken in Hoboken." I want to particularly thank Vito Mezzini for pointing out that "it’s a damn shame that your kind (Shaken) has taken over our town." Also thanks to Maria DePinto, who enlightened us with the comment, "Maybe you (Shaken) don’t believe in God, but many do." Special thanks to Vito DePinto for asking the eternal question, "How would you like your ‘spleen’ sauteed in some good Italian oil and garlic?"

I would like to thank all these people and others who also responded in such a favorable way, for explaining to me the religious significance of loud explosions and what it means to be a "good Catholic" in Hoboken.

I still don’t understand a couple of things, though, and would ap­preciate some more deep insight. For example, how come Luciana DeGennaro, an 81 year old woman, was the only one able to defend the Feast intelligently without vindictiveness or insults? Also, how come Hoboken’s school system is the worst in the state

with all these community-minded individuals ready and willing to stand up for what they believe in? Why is our tax rate so high? Why are our sidewalks and streets so littered? Why are these people missing the forest for the trees?

Name withheld by request Oct. 5, 1986

Stop insulting yuppies; longtime residents ought to be grateful they existDear Editor:

I ’d like to register my displeasure at all the letters by longtime residents making slurs on the so-called "yuppies." If being a "yup­pie" means being a hard-working professional who pays exorbitant rents to longtime Hoboken resident property owners, supports Hoboken’s businesses with a fresh supply of capital, and pays draconian tax rates to a bloated city government whose singular notable aspect is its system of favors and nepotism to longtime Hoboken residents, then perhaps the longtime Hoboken resident ought to be grateful that the "yuppie" exists.

I ’ve never seen a "yuppie" pollute the streets with noise from a boom box, vandalize the city parks, or double-park a boat-like car and honk the horn incessantly.

"Yuppies" don’t set up gambling booths, greasy food stands, and music platforms featuring obscene comics and second-rate disco music on Adams Street for a religious festival two weeks of the summer. Neither do "yuppies" set off hundreds of nerve-shattering bombs during that period to celebrate the pacific virtues of Christ.

"Yuppies" moved to Hoboken because your elected officials in cahoots with longtime Hoboken landlords set up the town for in­vasion. Don’t blame "yuppies" for coming to town when they were courted to do so. Hard-working, law-abiding citizens who only want peace should not be insulted and abused in this manner. Who are the true hooligans?

Name withheld Sept. 21, 1986

Why should we be grateful?Dear Editor:

I am a longtime resident of this town. As a matter of fact, I was

raised here, and I didn’t understand your comment--"that longtime residents should be grateful that the Yuppies are here." The Yup­pies aren’t doing anything for me or my family. When they start putting food on my table, pay my rent and bills, then I ’ll be grate­ful. You said that Yuppies were hard-working professionals. Well, I have some news for you. I am a hard-working professional also. I believe that all the people in this town are hard-working people. This town survived long before the Yuppies arrived here, and it will survive long after they’re gone. If the Yuppies don’t like the traditions that have been a part of this town for a number of years, that’s too bad. There is an old saying, "If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen."

Name withheld Sept. 28, 1986

"Yuppie Drome” is unavoidableDear Mr. or Mrs. "Name Withheld"

Obviously you haven’t had a taste of "yuppie drome." What good have they done, is what I ’d like to know. They come here and dis­rupt this city. This is not New York, where the town never sleeps. I have to put up with the nonsense that goes on at the Gold Coast (a popular hangout for newcomers) every night, while the yups enjoy their "yuppie chow." It’s unavoidable.

Since yuppies came to take over, you never find a parking space. Before them, this was never a problem. And yuppies don’t "throw bombs to celebrate a feast" or the Fourth of July because they have no spirit. Maybe you don’t either.

And what about the vandalized park. That’s in every city, baby. Besides, what does that have to do with "yuppie drome?"

Mr. or Mrs. Name Withheld, are you a yuppie? Citizens of Hoboken are very upset and have every right to speak their minds. Remember this is still our town.

In time you will see for yourself just exactly what we all mean. Look at our schools! They’re all becoming condos. One by one.

Hoboken is a small town. We used to live comfortably, now why should we all be forced out of our homes?

Sincerely, Pat Tucker

Oct. 5, 1986

Yuppies are culturally ineptDear Editor:

This is written in response to "Don’t Insult Yuppies."Hey Yuppie! Did you ever wonder why New York City is made

up of several small areas, not just one? (Ex. Little Italy, China Town, etc.)

You yuppies are culturally inept! What’s wrong, don’t you like Hispanics?

My culture is a strong proud one. My food is not greasy and there are no "greasy food stands" or "gambling booths" except for McDonalds or Lotto.

As far as double parking, three out of four cars double parked are "Yuppie Cars." Come by the Gold Coast or Clam Broth House and see all the Yuppie cars double parked every night. Better yet, check out the avenue. There isn’t a car from a native Hobokener double parked.

And we didn’t elect the Officials. Your people were here and the majority during the election. Don’t blame us for your stupidity!As far as Yuppies existing, that’s all you do is exist! You don’t

live, you take over and letch the life out of a town.Antonio Rodriguez

Oct. 5, 1986

Shaking the hand of Shaken Up In HobokenDear Editor:

Now! Now! To those who replied to the article by Shaken Up In Hoboken, you are not sticking to the issue. I re-read this article, being a newspaper hoarder, and I cannot believe what I am reading from the responses that your paper has printed.

I personally wish that I could Shake the Hand of Shaken Up in Hoboken. You have accused a Yuppie of writing this inspiring ar­ticle. He or she was given a sentence without any of us knowing who this person is. It could be your next door neighbor, it could be a-close friend, so why mention Yuppie?

A Yuppie was accused without factual identity. Now That is Throwing Stones.

From what I understood from Skaken Up in Hoboken, there were fireworks at 11 at night and that waste of money could have helped

charity.1. A feast is a beautiful thing.2. Fireworks at 11 at night were horrifying and I agree.3. Instead of wasting contributions on fire and ashes, give the

money to Cancer or the Heart Fund or poor children of the world.I would personally like to add another charity that was on

television the weekend of the big noise. Jerry Lewis was begging the entire country for money for his kids, which are also our kids.

If all of you that have answered to The Reporter had the ability to ask your patron saint, "What would she choose out of a choice of two to Honor Her:

a. Contribute to a needy charity.b. To blow the contributions in the Air to ashes.I know what her answer would be. Do You?And for all you Young Professional People, I Say Welcome, Keep

Coming and We Do Need You. I am Italian-American and have lived in Hoboken all of my life. I also have Yuppie Children who graduated Catholic schools and colleges and Yuppie grandchildren.

Name withheld Sept. 28, 1986

Feast is a disturbing mockery of religion and an embarrassment to the rest of us ItaliansDear Editor:

I, too, am of Italian descent and I, too, am a Catholic. I come from a good Hoboken family which has been in the city for over 50 years.

Thus stated, I will continue by saying that jolting, disturbing fireworks the entire last week of August have nothing whatever to do with the Catholic religion.

Constant, disturbing bomb-like sounds, day and night for seven days, not only jolt us out of our wits, but they are of eternal embar­rassment to those of us of Italian descent.They portray us as provincial, clannish, and downright ridiculous!

It is a pity that these "fervent" Catholics do not realize how they look to the world outside their narrow, ethnic existence.

They stubbornly refuse to accept the fact that the world has progressed since the days when it was acceptable to make loud

noises day and night for a week, and parade around town with a statue of the Blessed Virgin upon the shoulders of the faithful. This was fine in the small provincial towns of 18th century Italy, but is not fine in 20th century America!

Another embarrassing exhibition is to see the Blessed Virgin covered from head to foot with gold bracelets, chains, rings and what’s worse, dollar bills pinned to her cape! How gross this must seem to non-Italians. This is not religion, but a mockery of religion!

Not only do my fellow countrymen adamantly refuse to accept the fact that their fireworks are passe, but they have the nerve to insult and abuse the so-called yuppies who have had the courage to object to this yearly nonsense.

These young people are the sole reason for Hoboken finally com­ing into its own. I am proud to be Italian, proud to be Catholic, and proud to live in Hoboken.

However, I and my family as well are ashamed of the yearly idiocy which shatters everyone’s consciousness the last week in August in the holy name of religion.

Name withheld Oct. 12, 1986

If the feast money should go to charity, then the bucks yuppies spend on partying should go there tooDear Editor:

I was surprised that an American-Italian wants to shake hands with "shaken up in Hoboken." If that person is so proud to say, I ’m an American-Italian, why then isn’t he or she proud of his Italian half tradition. Shame on you, now who’s throwing stones.

Now if the money spent on the fireworks could have gone to charity, then the money that the yuppies spend on liquor should also go to charity.

I know for a fact most yuppies, not all, but most of them, stay up five out of seven nights a week and party until two or three a.m. Then when they’re drunk enough, then and only then, do they turn their music off, then and only then do they go to sleep.

We old time Hoboken residents have to put up with the yuppies and their parties for a whole year. Yet these hard working, law-abid-

iiig, loyal and honorable professional citizens find a week-long fes­tive tradition too rude for their sensitive ears.

If the yuppies want respect they must learn to compromise and ac­cept things the way they are. Now, since the yuppies were wrong, we Italians all hereby petition the yuppies. We Italians order the yuppies to be cool or be cast out, and we Italians demand that the St. Ann’s feast be brought back to light next year. And for you yup­pies, I suggest that you come down next year and join in the fun and experience a taste of Italy. The way it is still today.

Giuseppe M.Nov. 9. 1986

If those idiots like feast bombs so much, why don’t they join Khadafy’s hit squads?Dear Editor:

If you all like the bombs so much, why don’t you go to Libya and join Khadafy’s hit squads? You all can have a great time and blast until your hearts are content.

The idiots who responded in such a negative manner are either il­literate, blind, unable to comprehend a paragraph, or in the 50-70 years that they have lived in the U.S.A. have not yet learned to read the English language.

Please note that I have an 83-year old grandmother who came over from Italy when she was three years old. My grandmother hates those bombs more than "Shaken Up" does. They make her ex­tremely nervous, stop her from sleeping, and scare her great­grandchildren out of their wits. My grandfather, years ago, used to be one of the oldtimers who set those bombs off. My grandmother hated those bombs then and despises them now.

You people embarrass yourselves by just opening up your mouths, or in this case picking up your crayons. How come everyone who disagrees with you is a Yuppie from New York? Well, guess what!!! People who were bom and raised in Hoboken can be Yuppies too. I ’m one. I have lived in Hoboken all of my life. I have gone to Our Lady of Grace Grammar School and the Academy of the Sacred Heart High School (good religious upbring­ing) and St. Peter’s College. No one gave me a handout and paid for my education. I had no government grants. My parents and I

sacrificed and worked very hard so that I could make a success out of the life they gave me.

I did not want to leave this wonderful little town, so I bought a house in Hoboken from much hard-earned money, unlike all of you who bought your houses for a song and a dance. Like you, I am paying extremely high taxes. But who do you blame??? Us Yuppies of course.

If it were not for us Yuppies, would you be proud to live in Hoboken and feel safe to walk the streets? Think of the Hoboken 15 years ago. Did you like living like slobs?

We have to work 10 long hours a day to support our homes and school our children (yes, private schools—we pay taxes for public schools, but unlike years ago, the quality of public school education in this town stinks). We want to come home and spend time relax­ing and enjoying our families. But you make sure that you set off your silly bombs and upset our sleeping children. But what do you care? Your children are all grown up, living in suburbia, your houses are all paid for, and you sit around all day on your soap boxes living off the fat of the land.

My advice to you OTERS (oldtimers abbreviated) is think before you speak and understand what others are saying before you judge. The community is divided between the OTERS and Yuppies be­cause it is how you want it.

An Italian-American woman who has lived in and loved

Hoboken all of her life Oct. 26, 1986

Yes, I’ll join Khadafy’s hit squad and bomb youDear Editor:

In response to "Italian-American Yuppie Woman" I would love to join Khadafy’s hit squad and bomb you.

For a person who thinks she’s so educated you sure are an a~ hole! How dare you call me illiterate, blind and unable to com­prehend a paragraph. Just because you are so educated (do you think anyone in Hoboken really cares what schools you attended?) doesn’t make you so smart.

For your information, I am 35 years old, have a home and busi­ness of my own, and yes, I can read and write English perfectly. I

didn’t have a college education like you did—in fact, I had to quit school to help support my family, and I just received my diploma five years ago after many years of hard work trying to keep up with my business and attend night school.

Just because you don’t agree with me doesn’t give you the right to call me ignorant.

My grandfather, like yours, is also an oldtimer who set off those so-called bombs.

Does that make your grandfather an illiterate, ignorant old man? Where I come from it is an honor to be chosen to set off those

bombs.Vito Menzzini

Nov. 2, 1986

You are a disgrace to Italian yuppiesDear Editor:

In response to the Italian-American yuppie woman, I am a "yup­pie" and am proud just like you, to be one. But I felt really ashamed and embarrassed, not only for you but for myself and other yuppies.

Speaking your mind is one thing, but to put someone down the way you did was totally uncalled for. I hope that you are a damn shame that you had to express your feelings in that manner. Lady, you are a disgrace to the Italian yuppies.

Paula Henderson Nov. 23, 1986

Let the feast issue dieDear Editor:

Enough is enough! For a three-day event, people are dragging things out a little too far. Come on, let "The Feast Issue" die once and for all.

If all the people who attacked each other over this issue got together and used their tempers to fight for one better issue such as better education, tax reform, better parking and such, there would have been so many great things accomplished!

Come on people, relax, go out and enjoy what Hoboken has to

offer. Let’s get together and fight for each other and not against each other.

Feast Issue, R.I.P.(?)Sue Avery

Nov. 9, 1986

Pro-yuppies/antl-yupples, where’s your sense of humor?Dear Editor:

To begin, my family has been in Hoboken since the late 1800s. My grandfather was a lighter captain on the river.

I ’ve been following the pro-yuppie, anti-yuppie, pro-feast, anti­feast letters with growing concern. What’s happened to our sense of humor, the essential element for survival in any city?

To gain insight into the life of Hoboken, it would be helpful if, as I do, one went to the tennis courts on a Saturday or Sunday. One side of the court is next to the high school field. Other sides are bounded by a volleyball court, a basketball court, and a handball court.

On a typical day there will be four teenagers with big boxes, one at each end of the field, tuned, of course, to different stations.

On the running track, there will be the freshman football team, 30 joggers, 10 kids on dirt bikes, a dozen dogs, a biker on a Harley from the Hoboken Motorcycle Club trying to find his way home from last night’s party, a beautiful braless girl running backwards, and a bag lady looking for the train station.

In one comer of the field there is a girl’s softball game, in another a semi-pro game between two Hispanic teams, one of which has a Dominican kid who keeps hitting the ball 300 feet into the tennis courts.

In another comer of the field there are 18 red-faced, potbellied guys playing softball in a tavern league. One guy with a belly so big that he can’t see his feet. He can, however, hit a softball 300 fèet into, of course, the tennis court.

In the last comer, there’s a touch football game, five people flying kites, six people playing with frisbees, the junior varsity cheerleaders and one guy with a radio-controlled plane the size of a 747.

In the center of the field there are 10 dazed and bleeding Italians playing soccer with 10 dazed and bleeding Yugoslavians. They’re bleeding because the high school field has an artificial surface, ground glass, rocks the size of cantaloupes, and Schaeffer bottle caps jagged side up. If you slide into second in Hoboken, you get the Croix de Guerre, a blood transfusion and a rabies shot. In the midst of this chaos, there is also a yuppie chipping golf balls in the direction of, you guessed it, the tennis court.

On the volleyball court there are a dozen five-foot-tall Puerto Rican guys playing volleyball with a 15-foot homemade net and a ball that looks like a two-month-old pumpkin.

On the basketball court, there’re a bunch of black kids leaping five feet into the air, slam-dunking to a chorus of ’’shake and bake," "In yo face, bro!"

On the handball court some young guys are alternating playing with drinking beer and smoking funny cigarettes that always make me light headed when I ’m at that end of the court.

At this point, I usually find myself in a close game and it’s my serve. I hesitate to throw a ball up because I know that when I do the Dominican kid will hit one over the fence, the yuppie is going to hit me with a golf ball, the fat guy’s going to hit a 350-foot shot into the court, following which he’ll have a coronary around third, which will bring the Hoboken ambulance squad screaming around the track scattering kids, dogs, bikes and causing the bag lady to begin screaming "Praise, Jesus," and the braless girl to start jump­ing up and down.

At that point the guys on the handball court light up another cigarette. The model airplane crashes into the volleyball net, allow­ing a five-foot Puerto Rican guy to spike the ball, causing shouts of fuego, ole, and andelo. A six-foot black kid will tear down the back board and-just as I swing at the ball the feast opens up with a round of howitzers. Think McEnroe could play tennis here? With a frontal lobotomy, maybe.

Seriously, the field is a kind of microcosm of the city where a lot of different people are doing a lot of different things and not get­ting too upset about getting in each other’s hair. Live and let live.

Leo Genese Nov. 16, 1986

An usher in the 1986 Feast of the Madonna dei Martiri.

106 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER NINE

Write Your Congressman About Those Italians

The feast letters arrived in torrents throughout the fall of 1986. Most continued the xenophobic tirades and the pro-yuppie/anti-yup­pie assaults, but towards the end of November, the letter-writers ad­vocated a noticeably more pragmatic approach to the issue. They called for petitions, laws, and legislative lobbying on the feast bombs controversy. At the same time, however, the debate developed a nasty racist streak as Hobokenites bawled over alleged imperfections in the Italian character. Those claiming to be Italian, or rather, Italian-American (the distinction between the two was of the utmost importance), voiced some of the most bitter sentiments.

In many ways, the anti-Italian comments were merely a different expression of oldtimer/newcomer antagonism. But several residents blamed the Italian race for all the problems of the community—both before, during, and after the city’s gentrification.

Hoboken residents grew more and more disturbed by the "hate mail" and The Reporter's insistence on publishing it. Many wrote letters castigating the paper for its actions, while others contacted staff members personally to register their disapproval. Yet, the let­ters kept coming in.

Psychologist plans petition drive for federal law against feast bombsDear Editor:

This is directed at the "Italian bom and raised in Hoboken and proud of it."

I am an Italian-American, 26 years old, and I’ve lived in Hoboken all my life.

I hold a B.A. and a M.A. degree in Psychology which I received at Columbia University in New York City.

I mention this only because it shows that young intelligent Italian- Americans are just as annoyed with the bombs as the Yuppies and other equally intelligent citizens.

In my estimation, a federal law should be passed to prevent the use of explosives merely for the ridiculous reason of celebrating a religious feast.

I, together with some friends, will soon be promoting a petition for the enactment of such a law.

I ’m sure we’ll get the number of signatures we need to achieve this purpose.

It’s a great pity to say that, unfortunately, since I am also Italian, but have the intelligence and insight to see them as they really are, that bold, belligerent attitudes predominate in the Italian people.

Among them for the most part, are the most inflated egos in the world, giving them a feeling of superiority even when there is no call for feeling superior.

Among them exist one of the most racist and prejudiced groups one would ever hope to find—not only prejudiced against other races but people who dare not share their lifestyle.

For the most part, they are always dictatorial, rude, arrogant, and presumptuous.

My studies in psychology have truly permitted me to see what the ’’warmhearted" Italians are really like, and the writer of that par­ticular letter runs true to form.

Hoboken is moving forward at a very fast rate.There is no room for people who are as ignorant, dictatorial, and

as backward thinking as that person—not in the new Hoboken which is slowly emerging from the shadow of ignorance.

Name withheld Nov. 23, 1986

Feast psychologist is immatureDear Editor:

(To the Psychologist)I ’m not impressed with your B.A. or M.A., pieces of paper are

not the issue here.Somehow we have gotten off die issue of feast bombs and onto

immature name calling.For someone to call myself and my family, whom I love and care

for, names really hurts because then you turn around and say, ’’Hoboken is new and improved."

I don’t consider a city being new and improved with such im­maturity.

In my opinion Hoboken will only be new and improved if the educational system, and the recreational programs for us, the younger generation, are improved.

An Italian bom and raised in Hobokenand proud of it!

Nov. 20, 1986

Is it responsible to print fascist letters about the feast that antagonize us?Dear Editor:

First, while there are many instances where we do not agree in theory with the opinions of the older citizens in Hoboken, it in no way allows us to judge them as being ignorant or their ideas as being "stupid." This is a condescending attitude which not only makes these citizens feel more disenfranchised but widens the hor­rible gap between "old" and "new" that regrettably exists in Hoboken today. One would believe a self-proclaimed "intelligent" person, especially trained in psychology, would appreciate this fact.

Secondly, this person’s references to Italians as being bold, bel­ligerent, dictatorial, rude, arrogant, presumptuous and the most racist and prejudiced group "one would ever hope to find" is not only unsubstantiated by fact other than his own questionable ex­perience, but at the very least a stereotyping of a whole nationality. This thinking is so very dangerous.

Thirdly, the last paragraph of that letter states, "there is no room for people who are ignorant, dictatorial, and backwards think­ing...not in the new Hoboken." This is clearly Fascist thought which sadly echoes those words heard in Europe in the late 1930s and early 1940s. My only source of hope is the knowledge that these words will not motivate the good people of Hoboken, both

old and new, to such extremes as this person wishes.Finally, I must mention that while I do enjoy The Hoboken

Reporter every week, I find the publishing of such an irresponsible letter which bears no name quite questionable. The "Letters" sec­tion of The Reporter, like any good newspaper, is a forum for responsible, thought-provoking and topically current issues. I must wonder in good consciousness if the printing of such a letter as you did on November 23, 1986, only serves as a medium for an­tagonism between the old and new citizens of Hoboken.

Anthony Petrosino Jr. Nov. 30, 1986

Wants to sign anti-feast petitionDear Editor:

Yeah! for the Hoboken psychologist and Paula Henderson ("You are a disgrace to Italian yuppies" 11/13/86) in their open letters to the Serpent Tongue, self-named Italian Yuppie who is trying to right a wrong, USING CHILDREN TO COLLECT MONEY TO PAY FOR BOMBS!!! I do declare, what is this world coming to? It is so wrong that it is funny.

I can understand why this person needs the bombs so much—she has to compliment her violent personality.

Don’t forget upper Bloomfield Street when you get those petitions ready.

Name withheld Dec. 7, 1986

There are a lot better things to sign petitions for than feastDear Mr. Psychologist:

While you and your friends are busy signing petitions to prevent the use of bombs, why don’t you also start one to prevent the use of fireworks on the Fourth of July? If you can put up with them, then you could put up with these for one weekend out of the year. Come on, live a little. They are not hurting anyone and what damage have they caused?

You say that we should send our donations to help the schools. In the future there will be no schools. They will all become condos.

If you really want to do something constructive for this town, why don’t you and your friends sign petitions to stop the closings of our schools. Where are our children supposed to go to learn?

Sign petitions to make more parking spaces available. Where are we supposed to park our cars?

Sign petitions to stop the closing of our ShopRite supermarket. Where are we supposed to shop?

Sign petitions to fix up our parks. Where are our children sup­posed to play?

Face it, there are so many other problems with our city, so why pick on the small percentage of citizens who look forward to these fireworks every year.

If we could all get together and do something constructive for everyone, not just ourselves, this town would be a much better place to live.

Patricia James Dec. 7, 1986

Hey, psychologist, go back into your caveDear Editor:

In response to the petition driven psychologist.Stop trying to be bitter and persecuting all of us Catholic Italians

who still believe. Next, you will want all of us citizens who wrote in to be put into a gas chamber for still believing.

Joseph Lisa Dec. 14, 1986

Psychologist should have done his homeworkDear Editor:

We should try to end the "Big Boom" issue as adults, not nitpick­ing children.

Not to throw any degrees around, but I have my Masters in Sociol­ogy and two of my associates are teaching psychology at local col­leges for the past six years.

T.J. Roberts Dec. 14, 1986

There are some dirty politics behind the feastDear Editor:

I lived and worked in Italy for three years and while in Europe also visited several other countries. Unfortunately, I must say that everything the psychologist says about Italians is true.

Yes, they are as a general rule, arrogant and rude. I am sorry if the truth hurts, but I have found this to be true as have several of my associates. Have you ever spoken to an Italian telephone operator? They are the rudest in all of Europe! This is just a small example. ,

It is with that very same arrogance that the Italian-Americans in this town persist in continuing these bombings year after year even though they are fully aware that those offensive sounds are a nuisance and a tremendous disturbance to the rest of us.

1 for one say, HOORAY FOR THE PSYCHOLOGIST!I can’t wait to sign that petition.

L.M. Gable Dec. 21, 1986

Enough is enoughDear Editor:

For the past few months the letters concerning the feast controver­sy have dominated the pages of your newspaper. (Enough to war­rant its own opinion section.) It is obvious that this issue has been allowed to develop into Hoboken’s number one problem.

We, as citizens of Hoboken, have polarized our community over this issue and have forgotten that Hoboken needs its citizens to work cooperatively for political, economic and social reforms.

In recent weeks the letters concerning the feast have strayed from this point and have become an anonymous forum to insult and degrade various community groups.

Tony Andriola, Anne Marie Andriola, Mary Romano, Anthony Lombardi, Staela Keegan and Phyllis Keegan

Dec. 14, 1986

Regarding the feast bomb situation and the general "us vs. them" controversyDear Editor:

4 I suppose that the only way to solve this problem is to put it to a vote on the next election ballot. (While they’re at it, how about a fine for anyone with a loud, blasting radio?)

As far as this hateful fighting back and forth between the various groups, let’s get some things straight. Nearly everyone is at fault. A number of "yuppies" think they’ve got the right to move into Hoboken, buy a condo, and start demanding that they have the right to tell their neighbors what they can and can’t do. Since we live in a country where there’s one vote per person, they better get over themselves. I also suggest that if some of them want to be involved in what’s to be decided in Hoboken, they better roll their sleeves up and get involved in local politics. It would also help if they started shopping here more! Hoboken was never built to be simply a "bedroom community."

Those in the "older" Italian, Irish and German community should finally realize that Hoboken changed long before the first "yuppie" ever moved in. In many ways, Hoboken has become a more stable town because of it. We all hate the higher taxes, and the fact that some stores have closed, but WORKING TOGETHER, for the com­mon good of the city would go a long way to solve these problems.

Let’s get on the ball and try to make Hoboken a cleaner, quieter, more happy town with people who take the time to get to know their neighbor and their customs, and try to solve the financial/tax situation, rather than all this infighting Let’s all respect tradition, but not be afraid to change for the good of the future.

Barry Margolis Dec. 21, 1986

if feast is so important to Italians, why don’t they go back to Italy?Dear Editor:

I have just about had it with all these stupid, ignorant comments from idiots who continue to defend the "bombs" in the St. Ann Feast!

What is wrong with you? I too would like to shake the hand of

the Italian American who agrees with "Shaken Up in Hoboken."I am an Italian-American Catholic and have lived in this city for

40 years. My family, longtime residents of Hoboken, are also fed up to the teeth with all the "bombs" which shake us up out of bed, and continue to wake us up day and night for an entire week.

Enough talk already with the dumb expression, "experiencing a taste of Italy."

If that’s what Italy is like, well, they can all keep it!Yes, these narrow-minded sickening ethnic people are indeed an

embarrassment to the rest of us intelligent, forward thinking, Italian- Americans.

They are, and always will be, stuck in 17th Century Italian towns rather than in the 20th Century.

Why in Heaven’s name don’t they all pack up and move to Italy if they think it’s so great there!

The so-named Yuppies have my vote every time! They are intel­ligent, glib, and truly interested in helping Hoboken to become the classy, metropolitan town it has become since their arrival.

Do the "oldtimers" remember what Hoboken was like, say, even 15 years ago? It was nothing like it is today, and that is meant as the highest of compliments.

Frankly, the "wonderful oldtimers" were themselves ashamed to say that they came from Hoboken!

In my estimation, the "dear old oldtimers" are just jealous of the Yuppies. They’ve got it all over them, and one of the things they have is the courage and intelligence to stand up and fight for their rights to have a peaceful town in the last week of August.

The level of intelligence demonstrated by all of the "bomb" defenders is just as backward thinking and ignorant as the "beloved bombs" and statue marching they all so adore.

I say, do away with marching a statue through the streets. Religious statues belong in church, not being marched in the streets.

And mainly, do away with those awful and disturbing "bombs."Hoboken is a city in renaissance, not a city drenched in medieval

times.Name withheld

Dec. 7, 1986

Agnostic pig-heads are jealous they can’t participate in feastDear Mr. Withheld

I fund your letter of December 7 ("Go back to Italy") to be one of the most blasphemous letters I have ever read in my life.

You have the audacity to call those who celebrate jealous, when you are the one who is jealous because you, being an agnostic, can­not participate in the festive celebration.

You don’t want to put up with one week of noise, but yet we have to put up with your rude and immature behavior. We have to put up with the noise that comes out of the local bars all hours of the night. We have to put up with that damn chamber music that is played in the park all summer long. That is more annoying than put­ting up with one week of bombings. It’s a shame we have to listen to that hideous music while we are praying in the church across from the park. How would you like to hear that music while you are praying, if you do?

Maybe those Italians could move back to Italy, but at least they have a place to go. No country would want you with your shrewd, senseless and heinous attitude.

Roger Busch Dec. 21, 1986

Oldtimer says Hoboken has become cold and cruelDear Editor:

In response to "Forward Thinking Italian/American who lived here for 40 years." ("Go back to Italy" 12/7/86)

Yes, I remember what Hoboken was like 15 years ago, having been bom and raised here in Hoboken.

Fifteen years ago it was a wonderful town filled with children and teenagers. There was lots of love in this town. People all cared and helped their neighborhood during the difficult times. The streets were safe from traffic and crime.

Now Hoboken is a cold and cruel town. There aren’t that many children around anymore and very few teenagers. All the good- hearted people are gone. The city is overcrowded and there is a lot of crime because of the rich newcomers. All that is left is the cold-

hearted, insensitive people, like you, who won’t allow the few remaining Hobokenites to live.

When I walk into a restaurant or supermarket, I can feel the cold- shoulder towards me because I am an oldtimer.

Those people killed our town, and now they are taking what little is left to remind us of the old Hoboken. If you were a true Hobokenite as you say (which I do not believe, because true Hobokenites would not stab their fellow citizens in the back), how could you let them take over? Instead of thinking of a solution to this problem, you are just making matters worse with your insults.

Haven’t you noticed how overcrowded our city has gotten? There is no place to park our cars because of all the newcomers’ cars. All our local businesses are closing because the newcomers do not shop in this town. You act as if you are one of them.

I cannot believe how you can go against us oldtimers, when you say you are one yourself. These newcomers have not done one good thing to this town. Oh sure, you are probably saying that if it wasn’t for them we would still be living in a dump. Well, because of them, we lost all our friends and neighbors who were forced to move out. They turned our landlords into greedy conniving people.

You say you care about the elderly, sick and dying, but did you ever stop to think that maybe these people would like to live to see one more feast or hear one more "bomb?" You don’t have to be Italian to have a good time and to some people that is all it is, a good time. You don’t care about them or anyone else, you are just thinking about yourself.

Cornelius Van Pelt Dec. 21, 1986

Write your congressman for anti-feast lawDear Editor:

Maybe we can, with the stroke of a pen, put an end to this cease­less bickering about the Feast.

To those who oppose, know ye: The indiscriminate detonation of high explosives in densely populated areas is so insanely hazardous to goldfish, hamsters, doggies, catsies, moms, pops, kids and the oc­casional automobile gas tank that a considerable body of law has arisen upon the subject. Projectile explosives are especially frowned upon; at airports they have been known to cause a panic.

Therefore, if the bombs annoy you, do not write this paper. Write your Congressperson, and have the satisfaction of seeing a federal marshal lock the whole show up and kick it out of town.

To those who favor, I can offer little comfort. But you can always bum me in effigy, if not in actuality.

Respectfully, Ralph Hodges Dec. 21, 1986

What are you, a moron?Dear Editor:

In response to Ralph Hodges’ anti-feast letter, ”Write your con­gressman for anti-feast law,” I would love to bum you to a crisp for your inane letter.

Fireworks have nothing to do with bombs in airports. They are not hurting anyone except you and your family of goldfish, hamsters, doggies and catsies. What are you, a moron?

The only place that is densely populated is your dense head, mister!!

Why should we get rid of the feast entirely because you don’t want to hear the bombs? Why don’t you walk around for a week with your Walkman blasting in your ears, then you won’t hear the bombs.

Michael Pietroponto Jan. 18, 1987

This column is for idiotsDear Editor:

This feast took place in August and there are still people writing about it. Before you know it, it will be August again and what have you people done but sat on your behinds and wrote those vicious letters insulting each other.

If you people enjoy writing letters so much, why don’t you send each other your names and addresses and write to each other so we don’t have to read about your problems. There are so many other important things going on in our city we other citizens would like to read about.

Every week I read the paper and I hesitate to read the editorial

page because I know there is going to be another one of those feast letters.

Please, please, let’s put an end to this feast issue and get in some real letters.

Janet O’Brien Dec. 21, 1986

It’s time for a feast letter moratoriumDear Editor:

Enough is enough with the weekly diatribes about the Italian Feast. The letters regarding this matter have appeared with revolt­ing redundancy.

A subject of such a trivial, insignificant nature, in comparison to the substantive problems which face Hoboken and truly merit ex­tended dialogue, has generated into blatant anti-Italian slurs and hateful name calling.

I am also beginning to suspect that "Name Withheld" is the pen name of a member of your staff.

I would like to remind you and your readers that this group which is now being vilified and maligned as stupid, ignorant and racist, stood fast in Hoboken and preserved the core of the City by the devoted care and maintenance of its property and surroundings, when the City was in danger of becoming an extension of the South Bronx—not Greenwich Village. It was the areas mainly in­habited by the Italians and the Italianate flavor of the town which attracted the first wave of "New Yorkers" who moved to Hoboken and were instnimental in sparking the resurgence of the City. A resurgence, which despite its many improvements, has also created problems—problems which should properly be the focus of atten­tion and concern of the citizenry.

The time has come to declare a moratorium on the Feast letters and to devote more space to matters of genuine worth and impor­tance.

Yours is the only forum in Hoboken; it should be more meaning­ful and enlightening, not a repository of animosity and vileness.

Joseph S. Versaci Dec. 21, 1986

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Should we

stop

Feast letters to stay(Front page story in The Hoboken Reporter, Jan. 11,1987)

Some hate them, some love them, but there’s no question the feast letters have become as big an issue as the annual Madonna dei Martiri Feast itself. Since September, the colorful but noisy religious tradition has prompted more than 60 people to write to The Hoboken Reporter.

In the past month or so, several readers have complained to us about the feast letters. They said printing the letters was irrespon­sible, boring, repetitive, and basically counterproductive to society as a whole.

On the other hand, the feast letters kept pouring in, sometimes 15 or 30 in one week. Other readers lauded the weekly exchange of comments, no matter how vicious they sometimes appeared. These people called the feast letters a candid expression of community feelings, an issue of significant importance, and something that is always a real blast to read. As one letter writer commented, the feast letters were the best thing in the paper after Police Beat.

The Hoboken Reporter normally runs 99 percent of the signed, legible, non-libelous letters sent to us. We are one of the only

Some of the responses to the Feast Letters ’87 coupon.

newspapers where everyone has the chance to publicly state their opinion, no matter how obnoxious or ridiculous it may seem at the time. Printing a reader’s comments may take some time (up to two months), but sooner or later, almost ever}* letter makes it in.

We are reluctant to cease publication of any community correspon­dence, especially when there seems to be a continued interest in the subject. So last month we decided to let our readers decide what we should do.

In the December 21, 1986 issue, we dumped almost all the remain­ing feast letters in a special expanded Feast Letters section, and asked our readers to fill out a coupon telling us whether we should continue printing the letters or not. With that issue, we had run 42 feast-related letters. 17 were pro-feast/anti-yuppie, 14 were anti­feast/pro-yuppie and 11 wanted the fighting to end.

By January 9, we received 25 coupons. 13 wanted more feast let­ters, 12 wanted to be spared.

In that same period, we received 7 more feast letters. Even some of the people who requested an end to the issue sent along a letter with their coupon. Some of the comments people wrote with their coupons included:

(From those wanting to be spared)"Thanks for asking. I ’m sick of it.""Two, maybe three weeks were okay, but it’s been reading

like frantic and terminal masturbation. There are lots of other tilings to hash out."

"Somewhere in Hoboken there is someone or someones who give unselfishly of themselves. I would like to get to know these heroes through your paper."

"Start a new paper devoted to crank letters about the Feast, sneakers on the wires, UFOs, and other burning issues of the day. There are more important issues for The Reporter to deal with."

(From those wanting more feast letters)"The county Board of Health should intervene. It’s their jurisdic­

tion to enforce noise regulations. The bombing is obviously a breach of the law."

"Maybe someone important will notice and put an end to those idiotic, noisy and money-wasting bombs."

"If we stop the bombs, stop the yuppies who party from Friday to Sunday."

My sick aunt is uplifted whenever she reads the feast lettersDear Editor:

I ’ve flown out from California to spend Christmas with my aunt. I have discovered many characteristics that typify Hoboken but none so entertaining as the Feast Bomb letters.

Unfortunately, my aunt succumbed to the flu and has been in bed for the last couple of days. She was immediately uplifted when she saw The Hoboken Reporter and knew that she had the Feast Bomb letters to look forward to. Being that she was so ill and couldn’t wait, she insisted that I read them to her aloud. The delight that showed on her sickly face was heartwarming when I announced that there was an entire page and a half of letters. This is obviously a highlight in my aunt’s life; some people have sports, others T.V. (maybe a soap opera), my aunt has Feast Bomb letters.

I know that the letters are going to contribute greatly to my memories of Hoboken. I even went back to past issues to catch up on the cast and the continuing saga. It has given me something to look forward to on my next visit. So it would be a terrible disap­pointment to me, and especially my aunt, if the letters were to cease.

Most Sincerely, Theresa Bui

Jan. 11, 1987

The feast letter-reading sick aunt must also enjoy the feast ItselfDear Editor:

I am writing in response to the wonderful letter written by There­sa Bui ("My sick aunt is uplifted when she reads feast letters" 1/11/87).

If your aunt enjoys reading those letters so much, then I am sure she also enjoys going to the feast and having a good time.

I hope your aunt is better now and reading this article, because I

would like to wish her good health for the new year and many more years to come.

Sincerely, Kathleen Wagner-Rom ano

Feb. 8, 1987

Sunday brunch at a local Hoboken restaurant.

CHAPTER TEN

Of Grape Squeezers and Urinal Cleaners

With the feast issue boiling over, all-out warfare broke on the let­ters page of The Hoboken Reporter. This time the anti-yuppie bar­rage targeted specific lifestyle and cultural preferences of the new­comers as the root of the city’s problems. But as the battle wore on, the debate got more philosophical, even preachy, as the letter- writers discussed the merits of traditional family-living versus that of "Dinks," yuppie couples with a double income, no kids.

What do you get when you put yuppies into a grape squeezer?Dear Editor:

Renaissance in Hoboken?A revival of Arts and Letters?Hardly!Yuppie hordes trail each morning to the Big City trough for their

parasitic feed.To monotonous clerkdoms at the stock market, advertising agen­

cies and other shills of the capitalistic con game.At day’s end they trail back to Hoboken to their co-signed

cubicles to await the next exciting morning.However, on weekends they break out and "brunch it up."

Whee!!!!!This entire yuppie population crowded into a giant Italian style

grape squeezer wouldn’t yield one drop of talent.Joseph Trincellita

Dec. 21, 1986

Let’s put his brain in a grape squeezerDeax Editor:

In response to Joseph Trincellita’s December 21 letter. What do you get if Mr. Trincellita’s brains were put into a grape squeezer? Fermented grape pulp, that’s what! His claim that the entire Hoboken Yuppie population would not yield one drop of talent makes him blind to the fact that there are many people in this town who have well respected jobs and have talents far beyond his capabilities. It would not surprise me one bit if Mr. Trincellita’s oc­cupation was that of urinal cleaner because his knowledge of intel­ligence are the equivalent of the small disk that lies on the bottom of each urinal: Mr. Trincellita can gripe all he wants. It’s his own fault if he never made it big in life. The Yuppies are here to stay. Better learn to live with them.

The Lurker Group, Inc.Jan. 11, 1987

Hey, what’s wrong with cleaning urinals?Dear Editor:

I am a janitor for a large firm on Wall Street. I was very insulted when I read your letter insulting Mr. Trincellita by calling him a urinal cleaner ("Let’s put his brain in a grape squeezer" 1/11/87). For your information, I am a urinal cleaner and damn proud of it. If it wasn’t for me and the other urinal cleaners, there would be a world full of people with AIDs, Herpes, Syphilis, and Gonorrhea. You folks work in nice clean offices and use the nice clean restrooms. Who do you think cleans those toilets and makes sure the bathroom is sanitized, or do you folks hold it in until you get to your own filthy bathrooms? A janitor is like a doctor, he or she must clean and sanitize everything for the next person to use. How would you like it if all the restrooms where you worked were filthy and full of disease, if there was no toilet paper or napkins to wipe yourselves? You wouldn’t like it one bit.

So next time you use a toilet, think about the people who have to clean up your crap!

Lawrence Donnelly A Janitor and Damn Proud of It! ! ! ! !

Jan. 25, 1987

You DINKS don’t know what REAL work IsDear Editor:

In response to the Lurker Group’s letter, "Let’s put his brain in a grape squeezer" (1/11/87).

You DAMN DINKS! You think you are God’s gift to this earth. How dare you "think" you are so superior because you have a high- paying job! We true citizens are all hard-working people who didn’t have the same opportunities that you have now.

We all have families to support, but what would you DINKS know about having a family. You are all greedy bastards who only think about how big your paycheck is and who has a better condo.

Shame on you for thinking like that, so what if Mr. Trincellita is not as intelligent as you ASSUME yourselves to be. Maybe he never had an opportunity to better himself.

You "Yuppies" have your parents support you and send you to col­lege, then when you get a good job you put others who aren’t as fortunate as you down.

Ask your grandparents and parents what it was like when they were young. Maybe you will learn something from them.

You DINKS don’t know what hard work is. You sit at your desks all day reading your Times and planning brunch for the next day, while we work our butts off trying to save for our children’s future.

So, if you don’t have anything intelligent to say, keep your damn mouths shut!

David Sullivan Jan. 25, 1987

There Is nothing wrong with brunchDear Editor:

I was shocked and revolted by the unbelievably crude and rude remarks in a letter in your Letters column dated December 21, 1986.

In it, a Mr. Joseph Trincellita remarks that "so many Yup­pies together put through an ITALIAN grape squeezer could yield not a drop of talent."

How dare that gentleman make such an insulting comment? And then, why did he choose to use the word Italian in describing the grape squeezer?

That letter is a terrible embarrassment to the rest of us Italian

citizens of Hoboken, and I apologize to the Yuppies who that writer so vilely depreciates.

It is people such as that writer, with ideas just as petty and small, who keep Hoboken from really growing into the sophisticated, cul­tured city it should be.

That gentleman’s outburst unfortunately gives credence to the people who chide us Italians for being rude and arrogant.

And in further reply to that writer’s letter, I must hasten to ask, what is wrong with BRUNCH?

Brunch, along with art galleries, book stores, a magnificent cham­ber orchestra and classical music in the park, all bring wonderful, much needed touches of class and true culture to a city which has been far too many years completely saturated in the mundane, workday world of sameness and dullness!

Sincerely, James T. Alessandrini

Jan. 11, 1987

There’s nothing wrong with brunch, but how about some rock ’n’ rollDear Editor:

I am writing in response to "Nothing wrong with brunch" (Jan.11, 1987).

Nothing is wrong with brunch or classical or chamber music in the park.

But, why can’t we also have rock, rap, country, jazz and reggae playing in our park.

Do the people who plan these events have something against this type of music or are they just a bunch of Yuppies who only care about themselves and their friends?

Not everyone wants to listen to Chamber or Classical music! So why must us residents who live near the park or those who like to hang out in the park be forced to listen to that cultural music!

That is a public park for everyone to enjoy, not just the cultured people. Every week there should be different types of music play­ing, so everyone could have a good time, not just a few.

Sara Morgan Jan. 25, 1987

This yuppie chamber music irritates usDear Editor:

This letter is in response to "How about some rock and roll” (Jan. 25, 1987).

We the teenagers of Hoboken would like to hear some rock and roll and rap music playing in the park. What is it with this chamber music every week? A park is built mainly for children and teenagers, but yet there are always yuppies in the park chasing the kids away from the band shelter.

Why must we have to put up with that irritating music? There are hundreds of local bands trying to make it. Why can’t we have a talent night instead of yuppie night, then everyone can have a good time.

Double Trouble and our Followers Feb. 15, 1987

We’ll sign our own petition against yupsDear Editor:

You people think it was the yuppies who made this town better, when it was the yuppies who started the great divide. They move into this town and think they could start demanding that they have the right to tell us what to do. Well, we have rights to.

So sign your petitions, because we will sign petitions to keep yup­pie joggers who block traffic off our streets, and against all those noisy yuppie hangouts with that loud music that keeps up till all hours of the night and the drunks who stumble out. And also, that damn chamber music we are forced to listen to as we sit in the park on hot summer nights. There should be a federal law against play­ing that in public!

Michael, Christa and Angela Pietropaulo

Feb. 8, 1987P.S. What do you get when you put yuppies into a grape squeezer? A bunch of guppies!

Rock music in park is a good ideaDear Editor:

I would like to follow up on a request submitted to this page by

"Double Trouble" and its followers ("This yuppie chamber music ir­ritates us" 2/15/87). They asked, on the behalf of "the teenagers of Hoboken," for rock and roll and rap music to be played in the park in lieu of Chamber music every week.

This sounds like a good idea. If there are any readers who would like to follow up on this concept, or know how the Chamber group does it, please let me know. My phone number is in the phone book.

Stephen King Mar. 22, 1987.

P.S. Isn’t it nice to see a letter without the word "Yuppie" in it (oops, sorry).

Ban New Year’s ruckusDear Editor:

So, now Hoboken has a new "Yuppie" tradition. Banging pots from the window for one solid hour while screaming Happy New Year to everyone that passes by.

I happen to have a sick elderly mother living above the condo from where this ruckus was coming from. I called the police only to be told, "But lady, it’s New Year’s Eve Day."

There should be a law against noise in public after 12, no matter what holiday it is. I could see making noise a few minutes, but one hour! Come on, don’t you people (you know who you are) have anything better to do, or were you too drunk to realize what you were doing?

I am not trying to be a scrooge, but not everyone celebrates New Year’s Day, so have some consideration for the sick, elderly folks next year before you bring out your Farberware.

Andrea Taylor Jan. 18, 1987

New Year’s yuppie ruckus bothered another elderly woman

In response to "New Year’s ruckus," I, too, heard the noise com­ing from that condo next door to my house. I, too, also am a sick elderly woman who does not celebrate New Year’s as my family lives out of state and I am alone. I was forced out of my bed from a deep sleep to listen to that ruckus.

I would also have called the police, but I don’t have a phone. It’s

a shame that yuppies can be so inconsiderate and insensitive.Mrs. M.W.

Jan. 25, 1987

I was humiliated by New Year’s Eve drunksDear Editor:

To the drunken fools who made that horrible racket on New Year’s Eve.

I live in that building and was so humiliated. I happened to be up entertaining my boss and some friends when the bang, bang, bang started.

That noise was more annoying than any bomb blasting. For once, I was really ashamed to be living there. Those condos are made so cheaply you can hear everything going on next door.

There definitely should be laws for drunks like them who disturb the peace.

Fm sorry, Miss Taylor, you had to listen to the ruckus. Maybe next year they will know better.

Carolyn Masters Feb. 15, 1987

So-called "renaissance" is a shallow lie for yuppies and real estate sharksDear Editor:

In the gentrifier’s lexicon an abortion is a renaissance. An old dockside city of character undergoes a two-decade long, misery- filled transformation into a Yuppie bedroom and for the duration of the metamorphosis local real estate sharks tout the change as a renaissance. Such advertising is a desecration of language but, what the hell, it helps sell condos and provides a rationalization for the impossible rents, displacement, and homelessness that the "renais­sance" has visited upon the city’s native population. Yuppies who feel they have reincarnated Hoboken as 16th century Florence don’t feel at all bad about having cleared out families whose roots in the city go back for generations before its so-called revival.

A sub-division of the "Hoboken Renaissance" is the alleged renais­sance of the arts in the city. How Babbitty the notion that Hoboken’s sparse, New York imitative cultural activities constitute

a renaissance! Compare the "Hoboken Renaissance" to the Harlem Renaissance of the ’20s. In that brilliant phase of Black history a people rediscovered itself through its literature and music. Major novels and poems were produced and jazz took a giant step towards becoming our national music. Now as far as I know the "Hoboken Renaissance" has yet to produce a poet of the stature of Langston Hughes while Maxwell’s, the yuppie dive on 11th Street, certainly is no Cotton Club.

What we have in the "Hoboken Renaissance" is not culture in any substantial sense but rather the leisure activities of the Yuppie set. The cultural shallowness of their "Hoboken Renaissance" is reflec­tive of working lives spent meaninglessly on Madison Avenue writ­ing jingles for inessential products and on Wall Street reshuffling the loot of a declining capitalism.

Sincerely Clara Buchanan

Jan. 18, 1987

Yuppies and the meaning of lifeDear Editor:

What we have here in Hoboken is a growing confrontation of divergent philosophies concerning LIFE.

The Yuppie philosophy of "making it big" in life (at any cost) ver­sus the more traditional family-oriented philosophy. Family is an important difference between these two philosophies, the hedonistic Yuppies having forsaken such considerations as cumbersome in their quest for gold and position. Since a strong family has histori­cally been the cornerstone of successful societies at large one can make a strong argument that Hoboken, as a community, is dying. More on this later.

Recently in your column, my father, (Joseph Trincellita, "What do you get when you put yuppies into a grape squeezer" 12/21/86) ac­curately portrayed the Yuppie influx as a pseudo-intellectual and relatively talentless group, and so I shall continue.

Yuppies toil at obscure jobs and so-called careers (obscure in that the only tangible fruits of their labor is money). Yuppies equate their acquisition of wealth and possessions as a paramount ac­complishment of their narrow lives. This is in contrast to traditional views that hold family and rearing of loving caring offspring as a

true meaning of life. Also Yuppies would probably frown upon such "dead end" (courtesy LURKER Group) blue collar occupa­tions as carpenters, brick layers, civil servants, farmers, etc. Never­theless, people who work at such occupations have enduring con­tributions to make to society (or at least more enduring than you- know-who). They and their descendents and community can take "pride" in their efforts.

Yuppies also equate wealth and possessions as prerequisites to the appreciation of the arts when in reality these people have only the shallow appreciation of labels (what’s expensive is good)—it per­meates their lives.

In case the Yuppies were unaware (it seems unlikely) some of the most intelligent and creative people of all time departed this world penniless (alas, no stock portfolio, condo, high tech toys); but are today revered for their greatness and enduring contributions they made to humanity. I ’m sure it was their own fault that they never "made it big" by Yuppie standards during their lifetime.

Now a word about the "native" Hobokenites who boast of loving this city and hail the Yuppie invasion as a Renaissance. Such folk have had their traditional values and priorities twisted by Greed (maybe they are Yuppie failures who envision Yuppie success for their offspring). They love the gentrification of Hoboken because they benefit from it financially. They are no doubt landlords greedi­ly collecting bloated rents from Yuppies. And no matter what be­comes of Hoboken, these people can sell off their overpriced properties and run away from the mess they leave behind.

And finally, what a mess it is, "The Requiem of a City." A city of transients, strangers, and homeless. A city of greed, closing schools and fear. Yes, Hoboken has a new face of wealth and prosperity, but it has lost its soul. From the time the first lives were lost to the arsonist torch of displacement, the death bell knelled for Hoboken as a true city.

Nick Trincellita Jan. 25, 1987

Yuppie-baiting is getting boringDear Editor:

I don’t want to blow this out of proportion, but I ’ll bet papers in Germany received lots of letters similar to "Yuppies and the mean­

ing of life" (Jan. 25 edition, page 39) during the 1930s. Go ahead, close your eyes, while someone reads that letter aloud, replacing the word "Yuppie" with "Jew." You can almost hear those hob­nailed boots marching down Court Street.

I moved here six years ago from another middle class community across a river from Manhattan: Astoria, Queens. Growing up there, my neighbors were Irish, Italian, and German. Now when I return to visit my mother, I enter an area with the second largest con­centration of Greeks in the world. Only Athens has more. Believe me, it’s not the same as when I was growing up. But it’s not bad, either. It’s just different. It’s changed. There’s no guarantee your hometown’s gonna stay the same forever.

What is constantly referred to as a "Yuppie" in countless editions of The Hoboken Reporter is simply a young person, not much dif­ferent than most of us, middle class, in debt, trying to make ends meet. Many young people are just starting out and need a couple of roommates to cover the rent. How’s that any different than past generations? These days, that overall-clad blue collar worker waving to the young couple in Reeboks is probably saying "hi" to his tenants.

This "Yuppie" baiting is getting boring. Reading past editions of this paper, one gets the impression that only young commuters to Manhattan hold loud New Year’s Eve parties, that classical music is being forced down our throats just so these newcomers can have a good time. We find other unflattering references to the new in­habitants amidst pages of ads for condos, trendy establishments, and lists of clubs. I wonder if your advertisers’ target audience bothers to read The Reporter after a few tries.

Hoboken’s got problems, but to blame them on something called a "Yuppie" misses the point. The schools, sewers, water mains, taxes and the old neighborhood are no longer what they used to be. Stopping new folks at the border isn’t going to bring back that old neighborhood. Blaming them for the rest of Hoboken’s ills ac­complishes nothing and distracts us from the real causes of our problems.

Kevin Kennedy Feb. 15, 1987

Who are you hating?Dear Editor:

I have a few questions for Nick Trincellita (1/25/87, "Yuppies and the Meaning of Life") and the other numerous yuppie-haters out there.

Mr. Trincellita, how many of these so-called yuppies do you know personally? How did you find out that they "want to make it in life at any cost," they’re "hedonistic," "shallow," "what’s expen­sive is good," etc. etc.? Did you do a few months of extensive market research going door to door or did you just come across some juicy articles on yuppies in Time or Newsweek and copy down some of the sentences?

First, I ’ll admit that those who put down any hard-working person because they’re "blue collar" deserve some of your nasty labels. The letters from Mr. Sullivan ("You DINKS don’t know what real work is" 1/29/87) and the hard-working, proud janitor ("Hey, what’s wrong with cleaning urinals?" 1/29/87) were justified. But you, Mr. Trincellita, claim to know that all yuppies share so many evil characteristics even when you probably don’t know any of them! It’s very convenient to have a group to hate and blame all the town’s problems on.

How do you decide who’s a yuppie? How do you decide who to hate when you walk down the street? Is it anyone who wears a suit and works in NYC? Is it anyone who is between the ages 25-35? Is it anyone who has a college degree? You probably would say no to all of these, but you must have some way of spotting these very wicked people.

You call others narrow-minded, yet you pass judgement on those who you don’t even know. You would certainly hate me at first sight because I look like a yuppie.

Well, I ’ll tell you a bit about myself because I don’t deserve your evil stereotyping. I am 25, work in NYC, am a part-time student, make $22,000/year, pay $600 monthly to a wealthy Hoboken landlord, and I ’m of German-Irish descent. My grandparents came off the boat in Hoboken and worked their fingers to the bone trying to make a living. My grandmother was a maid and cook and my grandfather became a skilled machinist who made precision airplane parts. They saved enough money to send my mother to college. I respect my parents and grandparents a great deal for the

work they did and for the sacrifices they made. I ’ll never forget what they did and couldn’t be prouder of them.

So what do I have to apologize to you for? Why am I such a ter­rible person? For being grateful I could go to college? Because I don’t have five kids at my age that so beautifully "fill the schools." Because I like living in Hoboken and want to help make it better?

I am a decent person who is not rich and who also works hard for her money. Yet several times I ’ve had high school kids jeering at me when I ’ve walked by them—"You’re a f—ing yuppie!" I ’ve even had snow and ice thrown at me with the same chorus of words sung at me. You probably chuckle at this and think it’s real amusing, but if you got to know me you’d know I didn’t deserve it.

It’s people like you, Mr. Trincellita, who teach their kids to hate others by deciding JUST BY LOOKING AT THEM that they fall into a stereotype.

Why don’t you admit that you’ve never met one of us evil yup­pies so you can’t make 100 accusations of us and our "family- hating, money-loving" ways.

Saying that all newcomers to the town who look a certain way are disgusting yuppies is like saying all Italians are in the Mafia. I wouldn’t say it because that’s STEREOTYPING.

Please give me and all the other young newcomers to this town the same courtesy. Stop spreading this ugly, unjustified hatred. Stop judging books by their covers.

Sincerely, Name withheld Mar. 22, 1987

Signs of the times on a Jackson Street building in Hoboken.

138 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER ELEVEN

All’s Fair in Love, War, and Letters

Opinions about noisy religious celebrations were now not nearly as important as whether yuppies ate brunch, postponed parenthood, or enjoyed chamber music in the park. Before long, everything from the "messy” apartments of newcomers to their behavior in grocery stores and choice of footwear would provide fuel for the feud. However, as the conflict unfolded, the letter-writers dis­covered that the distinctions between oldtimers and newcomers, yuppies and non-yuppies, benefactors and despoilers, were no longer clear.

Who, after all, was everybody complaining about? Who were the oldtimers? Who were the newcomers? Both were still struggling with the basic question-what’s a yuppie?

The letters became a struggle by the society to define itself and its members.

"They’re attempting to understand the community—who the social groups are, what’s the right way to live your life, whether it’s put­ting curtains on your window, or where to work," says Hoboken anthropologist Molly McNees. She compares the letters to rituals that allow communities to accommodate for change. For instance, in some primitive cultures, circumcision rites are symbolic acts ena­bling youth to make the transition from one phase of life to another. Likewise, in Hoboken, the letters help citizens adapt their old world to a new one through a process of published affronts and humor.

The letters permit a ritualized insulting, she explains, in which residents are allowed to escape social conventions prohibiting such behavior. It’s okay to call someone a urinal cleaner on the letters

page, but you usually won’t hear a person scream that in a Hoboken deli. The ritual serves as both an outlet and container for such feelings.

"It’s a way of stepping out of the restraints of culture and society," McNees states. "To be able to say impolite, nasty, mean things in a safe way...it kind of bleeds off some of the stress."

What is wrong with you?Dear Editor:

If the yuppies have so much class, why can’t they afford to live alone instead of sharing an apartment with two or three other yup­pies who sleep on floors and don’t even iron their clothes, or can’t present a decent pair of curtains on their dirty windows if any at all. So if that’s class, we would hate to see how you live.

As for you and your yuppie pals, why don’t you all leave. At least we Italians have a country to go to.

D.M., R.H., M.S. Jan. 18, 1987

Yuppies are slobs and they don’t put curtains on their windowsDear Editor:

Slobs you bet. Yuppies are rude, vile, loud, tasteless, and have no class at all.

Everything that was written in the "What Is Wrong With You" (1/18/87) letter is true.

I see what goes on in the condos where I am a superintendent. The apartments are horrendous. I haven’t seen one with curtains. Even the poorest people in Hoboken have something on their win­dows, even if it is a towel or sheet. At least it is something. The Yuppies also have very little furniture, if any. But then why should they, they’re always eating out and they don’t have clothes to wash. I see them, once a month, going to the laundromat to wash their clothes. They keep their cars cleaner than themselves and their apartments.

Name Withheld. Feb. 1, 1987

Not only do yuppies not hang curtains, they push at bus stops, joyride in streets, and complain at grocery storesDear Editor:

"What is Wrong with You?" I will tell you.You Yuppies are not only low-class slobs, but are also rude and

have no manners. For example:1. In the morning, Yuppies must be the first on and off the bus no

matter how many people they have to push out of the way.2. In supermarkets, Yuppies must always complain about the

prices of groceries and give the cashiers a hard time.3. No matter how small a parking space, Yuppies must squeeze

their cars in, not caring about the car behind or in front.4. Yuppies don’t put curtains on their windows, forcing neighbors

to look into their filthy apartments when putting on clothes or wash­ing windows.

5. Yuppies also give people hard times at laundromats, gas sta­tions, and subways.

Josie Spring Feb. 1,1987

Yuppies live and dress like slobs so they can save for brunchDear Editor:

In response to "What is wrong with you" (1/18/87).So true, so true. Yuppies are slobs who do share apartments and

sleep on floors. I know because my ex-neighbors are yuppies. Three couples sharing one apartment. It’s disgusting.

They sleep on mattresses on the floor, no furniture, no curtains on the window. The neighbors used to talk about them. Their clothes are atrocious, socks and sneakers and suits, can’t you ladies afford shoes? Dressed to your ankles, and those suits, you people look like you shop at the Salvation Army or Goodwill! What the hell do you do with your money, spend it on booze and brunch?

Joseph and Madeline Brennan Feb. 1, 1987

Fed up with holding doors for yuppiesDear Editor:

I am writing to all the yuppies who complain when a door is not held open for them.

I am sick and tired of holding doors for yuppies who demand that we hold doors for them and if we don’t they sarcastically say, "thank you!” I am not your servant!

Can’t you people realize that if we have heavy bags we cannot hold doors for you.

Yet, when I hold a door, I never hear someone say thank you. You people have no manners. No one ever holds a door for me.

This problem not only occurs in stores or restaurants, but also on buses.

Many times I have ridden the Washington Street bus, and when I get off at the back door I hold it open for the person behind me, but they refuse to take the door, and being the polite person that I am, I have to hold it for everyone.

Next time I will let go and let it hit someone in the face and if they say "thank you" I will say "You’re welcome," and walk away.

Evelyn Russo Fed up with holding doors

Feb. 15, 1987In defense of good, clean, decent yuppiesDear Editor:

I am writing in response to "What is Wrong With You" (1/18/87). Not all Yuppies are as you described in your letter. What you are

trying to say is that all Yuppies from New York are like that.At first, I thought that was a really insulting letter toward Yup­

pies, but I understand now what you meant. Yuppies who were bom and bred here are not like that at all. We are clean, decent people, not slobs like those New Yorkers. We are not the ones who took this city like a bunch of crude, primitive fools forcing the oldtimers out of town.

Please don’t get us good Yuppies confused with the ignorant. Thank you.

Sarah Jane Webster Proud to be a Yuppie

Feb. 1, 1987

A repentant realtor claims yuppies live like pigsDear Editor:

This letter is in response to "What is Wrong with You" (1/18/87).I am a well-known Realtor for a large Real Estate Corporation in

New Jersey.Five years ago when the people of New York started moving into

New Jersey, I thought it was fantastic. I was making a fortune on commissions and was very happy.

Now five years later, I see all the trouble they have caused and would gladly give every cent of my commissions back if these people would just leave the city and go back to where they all came from.

I find these people to be very obnoxious, repugnant, abhorrent, in­vidious, and repellent, to say the least.

I admit it was a big mistake letting these New Yorkers move in, forcing all those innocent families out of their homes, just so we could make money, and for what, to let this trash live in our town.

I showed many apartments to clients and some were very nicely decorated with curtains and blinds on the windows, then after they moved in it was turned into a stye.

I don’t know how such educated people could live like pigs. You people are a disgrace.

Name withheld Feb. 1, 1987

Repentant realtor is full of B.S.Dear Editor:

I’d like to comment on the "Repentant Realtor" letter in the 2/1/87 edition.

The truly touching part of this letter is the line "gladly give back the commission money." Those of us who have been through the renaissance rhetoric period in Hoboken might view this letter of repentance for exactly what it is: 100 percent B.S.

Should this realtor try this repent approach in order to turn a profit, it may be of some use to realtors to remember that repenting requires HONESTY, and HONESTY is definitely alien to realtors.

Go for a different sales pitch this time guys. The sympathy route stinks all the way around.

Carol Kelly Mar. I, 1987

Who are you kidding? A realtor never gives back commissionsDear Editor:

I would like to address this letter to the "Name Withheld" sup­posed realtor who wrote this preposterous letter, "A repentant real­tor claims yuppies live like pigs" (2/1/87).

Mister or Ms., whatever the case may be, I think you’re as phony as a three dollar bill.

I am visiting friends here in Hoboken and the other day I picked up The Reporter and in going through the paper happened upon your letter.

I am a realtor from Pennsylvania and I almost choked when I read your comment, "(I) would gladly give every cent of my commis­sions back if these people (Yuppies) would just leave the city and go back to where they all came from."

As a realtor, I say either you’re an angry old time Italian or just a bitter jackass mad as hell that your town is finally at long last start­ing to look halfway decent, and that the Yuppies and others are responsible for it.

No real realtor would ever even dream of giving back a single red cent of his hard earned commission. Besides this, he wouldn’t even CARE who moves in where, and least of all would he be concerned with how people live.

Hoboken will never change. It is and always was a stupid, petty place in which to live, too full of nosy, narrow-minded individuals still mentally living in the 15th century and forever hanging onto outrageous so-called traditions. The Feast controversy proves my point.

I don’t know why Yuppies or anyone for that matter would ever want to come to live here.

I left 15 years ago and have never been happier.So confess, you so-called Hoboken "realtor." You know you’re

not a genuine real estate agent. You are about as transparent as

glass!If you were, you would have signed your name. Who do you

think you’re fooling.Stop griping and face the 20th century. Yuppies and many other

groups are here to stay!Sincerely,

Paul R. Richards Mar. 1, 1987

Yuppie-slobs give landlords a hard timeDear Editor:

This is in response to everyone who wrote about the yuppies being slobs. You forgot to mention:

1. Yuppies give us landlords a hard time by demanding repairs when they, by their carelessness and stupidity, destroy something in the apartment.

2. They complain about the noisy children who hang out in the playground.

3. They complain about the food being radioactive (E. Salem Krieger’s 2/7/87 letter).

4. They don’t shop in the local shops.5. Our air isn’t good enough for them either. (I often see a yup­

pie couple wearing surgical masks, don’t laugh, it’s true!)6. They jog in front of cars and give them a dirty look when you

honk a horn at them.7. Our schools aren’t good enough for their children, so they

send them to an Evangelical school.If you people can’t live like normal people, how the hell do you

get decent high-paying jobs. I suppose your bosses are either just like you, or you are all urinal cleaners down on Wall Street.

Mark Collins Mar. 1, 1987

Landlords and merchants, not yuppies, benefit most from "renaissance"Dear Editor:

Let’s set "Yuppie-ism" straight.It seems that every week there is at least one letter pointing a

finger at "Yuppies" for the changes in Hoboken. Obviously, by the derogatory tone, "Yuppies" are being blamed for the New Year’s Eve noise, the raised rents and the false prejudices against religious feasts. What will be next?

The fact that rents in Hoboken are lower than those in Manhattan has attracted a class of young people who work in NYC and who seek comparable housing. It has also allowed the landlords to raise the rents "sky-high." Who really takes "advantage" of the oppor­tunity—the landlords with the lack of rent stabilization or the "Yup­pies" contributing to the substantial increases? Someone is profiting by this influx of money, but it is certainly not the "Yuppies." It’s these proceeds that the local merchants and landlords are only too happy to take in.

As far as the "renaissance" is concerned, this is not Harlem in the 1920s nor does it pretend to be. This is Hoboken in the ’80s. Hoboken is a progressive place, not unlike any other city that has evolved over the course of time.

If that’s what most of you can’t accept, I would suggest that you draw the blinds and let the world pass you by.

Understandably Nina Flanagan

Mar. 1, 1987

Down and out In HobokenDear Editor:

Hey, who are you all calling yuppies? To some of us, moving to Hoboken is not a step up. Many of us alleged yuppies are actually YODAs--Young, Downwardly Mobile Amateurs. But to the people of Hoboken, we all look the same.

Just getting by but well-dressed in HobokenFeb. 8, 1987

The life of a yuppie is not all brunch and partiesDear Editor:

I am writing in response to the barrage of attacks against "Yup­pies" in the Letters section of the past several issues of The

Hoboken Reporter. I would like to dispel a few of the myths that I have noted in some of these letters.

Mr. David Sullivan ("You DINKS don’t know what real work is") in the January 25 issue seems to be under the impression that we Yuppies had our education handed to us on a silver platter and that at these hoity-toity jobs that just fell into our laps, all we do is read the Times and plan brunch.

I would like to say that I have worked ever since I was 14. I ’ve had every back breaking job there is. I ’ve cleaned a few urinals in my day also. So I know what manual labor is. It was with this money, not my parents’, that I put myself through school. I know many people had help from their parents. However, you don’t get to be a NY metropolitan area Yuppie just by schlepping it through school. You had to be the best. Nobody’s parents can help them there.

As for my "kushy" job, it is not uncommon for me to work a ten or 11 hour day and work through lunch. I don’t get any overtime for this; it’s expected of me. I know many Yuppies work more nor­mal hours at a more leisurely pace, but they don’t pay profes­sional’s salary to people who sit around planning brunch. You wouldn’t last very long if you tried it. The professional work world is a very demanding and grueling place.

It’s true, Yuppies can be rowdy and irresponsible at times. That’s not because we are Yuppies, though, that’s because we are young. Young is the first word in Yuppie in more ways than one. Don’t single out Yuppies when you are talking about youth in general.

In my little hometown there is no such thing as a Yuppie, but we sure have a lot of people in that same age bracket. They don’t have parties in their condo that disturb the people next door; they have parties with a couple of hundred people in large fields with rock and roll bands that disturb the entire town. Kids will be kids.

That brings me to the "Yuppies aren’t family oriented, as evidenced by that fact that so many of them are DINKS (Double In­come No Kids)" issue. The key letter in Yuppie here again is Y for young. The choice is not to not have children, it’s to wait to have children. Many Yuppie couples, including my husband and myself, can’t wait until they can start their families. That’s going to take quite a few more years of saving up that double income, until we can afford to move out of Hoboken and buy a house to raise a fami­

ly in. It will take even longer to save enough to put aside money for what it takes to raise kids these days.

Something in that previous paragraph may have surprised you. Was it the fact that we can’t wait to get out of Hoboken? Then it may be news to you that a lot of us don’t want to be here any more than you want us to be here.

I am in a highly specialized field and I can only find work in the metropolitan area. In other words, I ’m in the same boat as just about everyone else in New York City, but I can’t afford to live there and dislike city living anyway. I can’t find too much to like about Hoboken either. All this pavement and brownstone leaves me a bit cold. I can’t say I ’d give anything for a backyard with some trees though; because I wouldn’t give my job. That’s why I’m stuck here. If I want my job, I have to be within commuting dis­tance of it. The only affordable place within commuting distance for me right now is Hoboken.

If I were bom and raised in Hoboken and got displaced because I could no longer afford to live here, I ’d be mad too. Go ahead, be mad. Don’t be mad at Yuppies though. If you want to blame some­thing, blame the law of economics.

You can tell how much hostility there is toward the Yuppies just by the way Hobokenites look at you. I feel like I ’m being judged by total strangers who know nothing about me. I ’m a nice person. Just give me a chance. It’s not just Yuppies who push people on buses, give people a hard time and don’t stop for others. There are people from every race, creed, color, gender, and socio-economic group who are guilty of these things. Let’s not be prejudiced. Judge someone after you get to know them, not before.

I was going to stop here, but the February 1, 1987 issue of The Hoboken Reporter just arrived and I see there is one little matter I would like to comment on. This is the fact that a lot of people are confusing Yuppies with Puppies.

A Puppie is a poor upwardly mobile professional. Almost all Yup­pies start out as Puppies, and it takes quite awhile to grow up to be a Yuppie.

I used to be a Puppie. Let me explain why Puppies are poor. We spent all our money on school, and if we didn’t save up to go to school, poverty lasted a lot longer because paying off school loans became a further burden. A professional job may not start out

paying so hot. That’s where the U in Yuppies comes from (upward­ly mobile). If you put a lot of sweat into it and prove yourself, you may move up in salary. This takes awhile. Meanwhile, we pay Hoboken rents, eat generic peanut butter on generic bread and save up to be able to buy a frame to get the bed off the floor, and put curtains in the windows (we had tablecloths in our windows for six months).

These people (the Puppies) are not the people you see eating brunch at the Madison on Sunday or even walking down Washington Street in Brooks Brothers suits. Those are the Yuppies. The Yuppies aren’t the ones with no curtains and holes in their jeans. Those are the Puppies. (I confess I made up "Puppie," but I didn’t make up what it stands for.)

I know Hobokenites have a lot of misconceptions about Yuppies and, concomitantly, Yuppies have a lot of misconceptions about Hobokenites. Maybe if we both tried to understand each other, we could alleviate a lot of tension between us amicably.

Ms. C.V.B.Feb. 22, 1987

Yuppies? Yeechhh!Dear Editor:

It’s about time someone speaks up about those damn yuppies. They’re nothing but low life, riff-raff running our city.

They think they are helping. Huh! Helping my foot! In what way are they helping? That is what we all would like to know.

Instead of bringing this town forward like they say, they are going backwards with their old-fashioned values and ways of life.

I always knew what slobs you yuppies were. Sharing apartments with strangers. God knows if these strangers have diseases and you share your bathroom and utensils. Yuck!! No furniture, you sleep on floors, and no curtains.

Yuppies have nerve to make fun of Italians. We Italians take pride in our homes. We provide nothing but the best for our families. Yes, families! That is spouse and children.

We spend time with our families, not out partying and getting drunk in the local clubs or out working 16 hours a day just to get a huge paycheck.

We are good, clean, hard-working people, and you insult us!What kind of people are you?

Michael Pietropoulo Mar. 22, 1987

I’m having an Identity crisisDear Editor:

Week after week, I read your paper with a growing sense of anxiety. I am forty-one years old, too old to be a yuppie. I have lived here for seven years, not long enough to be a B&R (Bom and Raised). I am married, but choose not to have children and live in a collective. I am an artist who can only pay the mortgage if I work in New York City. I am a feminist and a socialist, but I always vote Democratic. I pay huge taxes only to be pelted with raw eggs by parochial school boys.

My problem here is my identity. I don’t fit any of the above labels, yet I hate the feast bombs, reminiscent of Vietnam and the soon to be Nicaraguan War, thanks to Sen. Bill Bradley. I also don’t like the yuppies, who only seem to function for self-interest, but I won’t give up my Reeboks! The old guard in town who are renowned as the most corrupt county in the country are no bargain.

So where do I fit in? Don’t bother to tell me to love it or leave it. I tried, and can’t afford to move.

Sincerely, The Egg Lady, Mar. 29, 1987

The Abbey, a condominium, formerly St. Paul’s, an Episcopal Church. Built in 1870, it was converted to 22 luxury units in 1986.

CHAPTER TWELVE

If the Reebok Fits, Wear It

Why I’m jealous of yuppiesDear Editor:

Yuppies, yuppies. How I hate yuppies!Maybe it’s because I am jealous of them and their high-paying

jobs, degrees, and intelligence.Nah! That can’t be it.It must be because I don’t own a briefcase, Walkman, my wife

doesn’t wear ankle socks or Reeboks, I don’t shop at second hand stores, I don’t jog or indulge in any healthy foods such as alfalfa sprouts and yogurt, I don’t live in a condo or own a BMW. I have furniture and curtains on my window. I don’t eat brunch. I despise chamber and classical music. My children’s names are not Muffy, Buffy, Skip or Biff, I don’t party all hours of the night, bang pots from my window waking the sick, elderly and dead. I only have one family living in my home. I don’t drink wine coolers or Per­rier. I don’t put down anyone for their beliefs and traditions. I don’t interfere in people’s lives by starting petitions. I don’t wear grease in my hair and my wife doesn’t wear a page-boy hairdo which went out in the ’70s along with the wet look. My children don’t go to Christian schools. I don’t read the Times or Wall Street Journal, and I don’t curse people out when I can’t have my own way.

There, that must be it, that is why I am jealous of yuppies.After all, I am only a hard-working high school graduate trying to

raise a family.Michael P.

May 28, 1987

Why I am fed up with bigotsDear Editor:

Bigots, bigots, how I hate bigots!Maybe it’s because I am a Yuppie and have a high-paying job, de­

gree, and intelligence and the bigots decided to hate me.They hate me even though I don’t own a Walkman, my husband

doesn’t wear ankle socks or Reeboks, I don’t shop at second hand stores, I don’t jog or indulge in any healthy food such as alfalfa sprouts and yogurt, I don’t live in a condo or own a BMW. I have furniture and curtains on my window. I don’t eat brunch. I despise chamber and classical music. My children’s names are not Muffy, Buffy, Skip or Biff, I don’t party all hours of the night, bang pots from the window waking the sick, elderly and dead. I only have one family living in my home. I don’t drink wine coolers or Per­rier. I don’t put down anyone for their beliefs and traditions. I don’t interfere in people’s lives by starting petitions. I don’t wear grease in my hair and I don’t wear a page-boy hairdo which went out in the ’70s along with the wet look. My children don’t go to Christian schools. I don’t read the Times or Wall Street Journal and I don’t curse people out when I can’t have my own way.

Actually, the only thing I indulge in from your list, Michael P., is that I carry a briefcase. That must be it then, that’s why you hate me. I agree though, I think that anyone who dares do something as heinous as carry a briefcase should be summarily shot.

Please, Mr. Bigot, leave me and my briefcase alone.Mary Ellen McDaniel

June 7, 1987

I am not a yuppie but I’m appalled at these lettersDear Editor:

I am appalled at the letters that appear in your newspaper. I cer­tainly don’t qualify as a yuppie—a little too old and a little too poor, but I have absolutely no gripes with them. Sure, I wish I had their advantages when I was younger so that I could have had a more upwardly mobile lifestyle but I certainly don’t begrudge them, especially those young women in their sneakers who are learning how to support themselves in fulfilling careers. My genera­tion typed. I don’t wish that for my daughter so why should I be angry at the yuppies. This attitude only belittles Hoboken residents who should be proud of the lives they established with less educa­

tion and a poorer start in the world. Just last week a child yelled at me as I got off the bus, "You yuppie b— 11 Needless to say, at my age, I figured I was being complimented.

Claudette Cobum June 4, 1987

Reeboks and briefcases have practical valueDear Editor:

I have been following the interchange between newcomers and oldtimers in Hoboken, or yuppies and non-yuppies, or whatever you want to call them, and have noticed with some dismay that very few of your correspondents—even those in the pro-yup contin­gent—admit to actually being yuppies. "I’m too old," they say, "I’m too poor. I have no condo. I don’t carry a briefcase. I don’t wear Reeboks." I sense in all this protesting a feeling of guilt among those who do indulge in these things, and a loathing among those who don’t. So, for the record, let us clarify exactly what a yuppie is, and what all these heinous objects such as Condos, Perrier, BMWs, and other dubiously regarded possessions of the yuppie generation are.

A yuppie is, of course, a Young Urban Professional. Period. Notice there are no prerequisites for material possessions or level of income. All you have to be is say, under forty, residing in an urban area (Hoboken, for example) and having a job that requires some level of skill or education. There are lots of these people around. Now for the things most commonly regarded as "yuppie trends."

Reeboks. I ’m pretty sure the problem is not the shoe itself, since I ’ve seen it on everyone from breakdancers to tennis stars, but with the fact that young women insist on wearing them with business suits. This is not done to be chic. We all know how dreadful they look. They are worn to prevent damaging wear on good work shoes and one’s legs. If you walk any distance at all to get to work, you’d understand. The good shoes are in the briefcase. Which brings us to the next subject.

Briefcases. A briefcase is a briefcase. We’ve all seen them. Men have been toting them to and from work for decades with nary a peep from the general public. So simmer down.

Brunch. A return to the habit, still practiced in parts of Scotland,

Italy, and South America, of having a huge breakfast late in the morning. A fine idea, and better for your metabolism.

Perrier. A sadly maligned beverage. Far from being a quaff for snobs, Perrier is the drink of the people in France, enjoyed by everyone from dockworkers to diplomats. It is very refreshing—sort of like Coca-Cola without the sugar and caffeine—and the best thing about it is that you can leave an open bottle for days and it will neither spoil nor loose its fizz. Try it sometime.

BMW. A very nice car if you can afford it. I can’t.Condos and Co-ops. Shorter words for "owning the place you live

in." Also nice if you can afford it. Again, I can’t.Classical music. The cheapest of the yuppie vices. I was appalled

recently to read a letter from a woman who said she "despises clas­sical music," dismissing in one breath seven centuries of music as diverse as that of Brahms and Philip Glass. One might as well say that one despises books. Some of it requires quite particular train­ing to enjoy it.

So there they are. Most of these things have real practical value, and they are not nearly as exclusive as some would have us believe, nor so repellent as would others, for being thus exposed to the light of reason. Now let’s all act like grownups and turn our at­tention to more important things.

Elizabeth Nicolais June 18, 1987

Two ships that passed in the Hoboken nightDear Editor:

Hoboken is a small town. This has its advantages—and disad­vantages, which became obvious to me the other evening when, on an after-dinner stroll, I happened to meet a woman’s eyes and a message of sympathy spontaneously passed between us. Ordinarily, one walks along careful not to make eye contact with strangers; it might be misinterpreted as an invitation to start a conversation, and the chances are good that someone you meet in this way will turn out to be a bore or a crank or worse. (I must admit, though, that I was recently surprised in this regard when a B&R struck up a con­versation with me in a supermarket checkout line. This character was a Hoboken original: first he blamed the yuppies for the rising prices, then he blamed Ronald Reagan for the recent devastating

earthquakes and volcanos all over the world. The disturbances were due, the man said, to Reagan’s underground nuclear testing out in Nevada. Don’t laugh. At least this guy was on the right track, and way ahead of his brainwashed brothers out in the vast middle of 7- Eleven land. The last time I ventured west of the Hudson, a Moral Majorité with a low forehead and simian slouch buttonholed me in a bar and proceeded to blame all of the ills of the world on the teaching of evolution and the Sandanistas in Nicaragua.)

When I chanced to meet the eyes of that middle-aged woman on Washington Street, there happened to be passing the stoop where she was sitting a couple of loose-limbed youths, the pride of Hoboken High. Their combined IQs couldn’t have matched that of a toilet-trained chimpanzee, and one of them was carrying a ghetto- blaster that was emitting as much noise per second as a square block of London emits over a whole year. She raised her shoulders slightly, as if to say, "Whatta yuh gonna do," and I saluted a kindred soul by lifting an ironic eyebrow before walking on.

The next evening I passed the stoop again. She noticed me ap­proaching, and seemed to grow nervous. When I came abreast of her I nodded to acknowledge our glancing intimacy of the day before; but she would not meet my eyes this time. She looked through me. The next day when I approached we both grew self­conscious. She bent down and pretended to tie her shoelace to avoid my glance. The next evening she was not there.

Now, to be neighborly, I avoid that block on my after-dinner peregrinations, and I hope the woman has noticed and goes back outside. After all, I have the whole world to walk around in.

T. Weed May 14, 1987

Hoboken Hispanics protesting police brutality in the early 1970s.

158 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Another Rampage? It Must Be Labor Day Again

In 1955, a riot erupted during the final night festivities of the Feast of the Madonna dei Martiri. "For the better part of an hour, Hoboken resembled a city under a siege," a local newspaper reported. "Within minutes the thud of fists and the screams of women and children on-lookers drowned out the concert band."

The bloody melee tumbled across several city blocks, as hundreds of residents battled beneath the colorful, arched decorations of the feast. Some 50 firemen prepared to hose down the mob, while more than 100 cops tackled the fray.

Law enforcers arrested five youths (four were Puerto Rican), and the local hospital treated 13 people for injuries, including eight of­ficers. The police chief concluded the Labor Day weekend incident was "merely a teenage fight between young hoodlums." But talk on the street was that the hostilities came in response to the fatal stab­bing of a 24-year-old white man during a recent gang fight with Puerto Ricans in a neighboring town.

Sixteen years later, almost to the day, the city again broke out in riots. Saturday of Labor Day weekend, 1971, two smoldering sum­mers of racial strain burst in a blood-spattering, brick-chucking rampage through the city’s main retail district. Angry at recurring police brutality and the alleged beating of two Puerto Rican men ar­rested for threatening a storeowner with a knife, 300 Hispanics roared up First Street. They smashed some 50 store windows, looted businesses, and tossed bottles at police and passing motorists until the early hours of the next morning.

About 75 cops confronted the rabble-rousers with shotguns and tear gas bombs. In the eerie streetlamp glow, they scraped rioters off the pavement and dragged them into the station. Blood stained

the floor outside the detective bureau a dark red.A few blocks away, the annual Feast of the Madonna dei Martiri

proceeded undisturbed. Zeppoles and calzones sizzled in cauldrons of bubbling golden oil, Vito and the Italokings played a romantic rendition of "Spanish Eyes," and children grasped for brightly colored balloons bobbing in the summer night. The statue of the Madonna, embraced by bouquets of gladiolus, carnations and roses, rested peacefully in St. Francis Church on Third Street.

The next day, devotees paraded the Madonna statue through the streets, amidst the buzzsawing and hammering of merchants build­ing a "Plywood Plaza" around the ruins of their ransacked shops. A fife and drum band lead the feast procession, followed by a group of small boys in white stockings, knickers, and blue-velvet jackets. Some shirtless urchins joined the march and beat imaginary drums, alongside young girls in powder blue capes.

Again, 16 years later, a year of often bitter confrontations be­tween the two main groups in Hoboken—the oldtimers and the new­comers—preceded Labor Day weekend 1987. More than a few resi­dents feared the city’s cycle of urban violence would come around with a vengeance. For some reason or another, they felt the senti­ments expressed in The Hoboken Reporter letters would materialize in mass hysteria, even bloodshed, as the summer feasts approached.

Feasts, hatred, and a shameless, irresponsible newspaperDear Editor:

I didn’t vote in the last presidential election. I have never written to my congressman or my senator. I have never felt the need to con­tact Ann Landers, Dear Abby, Dr. Ruth, or Howard Stem. However, today I am writing a feast letter.

The infamous letters that have been running in The Hoboken Reporter regarding the celebration of the Madonna Dei Martiri Feast with exploding bombs are both amusing and disturbing. The fun side is the moronic desperation of both sides of the fence to take the offense and hurl the crudest of labels at one another, labels that never appear in a responsible newspaper. The disturbing side is

that such venom actually resides in the hearts of so many of my fel­low Hobokenites.

This is a very long introduction to a Feast Letter. It needs to be because the feast controversy has two levels. First, How to Deal with the Bombs and second, Who Do We Blame for the Problem?

My solution to the first issue is a compromise. The celebration should keep the bombs but limit their use to only one night during the feast and only up to a reasonable hour. The Hoboken Reporter can inform all Hoboken residents of "Bomb Night." If you want to get bombed, go ahead. If you’re sensitive to loud noises, make plans to stay with a friend or stick a lot of cotton in your ears. It’s that simple.

The second issue is what really keeps those cards and letters com­ing in, folks. It is hatred. In the guise of caring about a religious feast, citizens are using The Hoboken Reporter to badmouth "yup­pies," oldtimers, and ethnic groups. The language is abominable. The talk is irrational. Nothing constructive is said. The point of these hate letters is to put somebody else down without any regard to the feast.

There is no way to totally end this antagonism. People who relate to the old Hoboken will continue to resent the upstarts. And the upstarts will continue to smugly respond to the insults.

I am ashamed that The Hoboken Reporter has printed so many derogatory letters about our fellow citizens. The contents of some are clearly not suitable for a family newspaper. The letters section should represent the voice of the people, that is true, but it also ser­ves as an example. Regularly publishing crude, irresponsible remarks in a newspaper gives them an aura of legitimacy. Is it okay to degrade Italians? Is it alright to call people urinals? This is the type of mentality you are fostering. It is not the kind of material that I want my children to read.

If a member of this community wants to be heard, then that per­son should present his or her views in a respectable way.

There are some writers who have dealt with this subject without hurting the feelings of other people. Their ideas have been fair and well thought out. I find them thought-provoking and newsworthy, not just a rehash of the same prejudices that will get our com­munity nowhere.

I am sure that a lot of people read The Hoboken Reporter just be-

cause of the Feast Letters and this looks very good to advertisers. But look at the bigger picture.

Thank you.Dan D’Errico Feb. 1, 1987

This newspaper has failed its communityDear Editor:

While I have voted in the last presidential election and have writ­ten to my senator and congressman—in all other respects, I agree with Dan D’Errico, whose letter you published in the February 1 issue of The Hoboken Reporter.

The feast letters and your publication of them are linked; the let­ters themselves have long ago gone beyond expression of opinion and have degenerated into name-calling and xenophobia. By offer­ing a forum to these mostly irrational views of a situation that no longer is focused on the event that prompted it, your newspaper fails to uphold the trust placed in it by readers—The Hoboken Reporter has become an easy mark for publication of all sorts of half-baked insults, it’s a dumping ground for the kneejerk opinions of those who would not take the time to better their community if it were offered. The sheer momentum of publishing the feast letters keeps them coming. May I suggest that soap operas are better kept on television and that a responsible community newspaper should know better when to draw the line on sensationalism.

Juanita Slade Feb. 8, 1987

For those who thought they’ve heard everythingDear Editor:

After reading letters upon letters concerning what the Yuppies think about old-timers and feast bombs, and how lifelong Hobokenites feel about Yuppies and chamber music in the park, I thought everyone would enjoy hearing what someone who is neither thinks about all of the above.

I am 15, a sophomore at Hoboken High, and one who is inter­ested in a career in journalism. I couldn’t think of a more fun way to get my interests off the ground than writing to your paper. To

put it mildly, I love the way you go at each other’s throats over an issue like feast bombs. You make me feel old and wise. After all, what’s the big deal? So what if a bunch of people get together and decide to throw bombs in all directions for a week. Do they com­plain when River Fair people blast rock music so loud that it makes waves in the river? Why can’t we all learn to accept each other’s beliefs?

Also, I can’t understand how people can stereotype so pitifully. The opinions expressed in letters are the opinion of one person, not of everyone who happens to fall into the same category. There is nothing more cruel and heartless than condemning an entire group of people just because one had the guts to speak his piece. If only these individuals had a chance to meet some of the people they are verbally slaughtering mercilessly because of the hatred they feel toward one:

Only to the editor: Can you please tell me who decided to set aside an entire page and devote it to cutthroat feast letters? By all means, print them. Just don’t get carried away and give them their own section. If they move you so much, clip them and plaster them on your bedroom walls. Don’t punish the rest of us (including the fools who wrote them) by throwing them at us when we open the page to our favorite section, the LETTERS page! What happens when the feast issue blows over? (WHOOPS!)

To everyone: The last time a teenager bothered to write to your paper nobody seemed to pay much attention. I ’m sure you will be dying to send in your opinion of my opinions. I wish I was capable of writing a real tearjerker so that I would be sure to get my point across. Incidentally, my point is: The people of Hoboken, ALL of us, have to learn to accept each other for our beliefs and for our opinions of each other. I have a feeling the battle will rage on long after my letter is forgotten. But please, for yourselves, for your neighbors, and even for the people who don’t share your beliefs, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how many nights it will cause you to lie awake wishing you hadn’t given up, give up the Yuppie- oldtimer war. Make peace and try to accept the fact that neither side is planning to pack up and move out. We all have to live together, no matter who writes the best letters.

In closing, I would like to remind everyone else that nobody is better than anybody else. We are all equal. Also, I need to say that

I have no opinion of feasts or feast bombs or the people who run feasts. My opinions are only of what the feast letters have been doing to everyone in the town. They are all sick of hearing about it. Give us all a break and surrender your pens. We’ll be happy you did. (Not bad, eh?) Another word to the editor: Please don’t print my letter under the heading Feast Letters. I ’ll be happy you didn’t.

Thank you very much, Angel DeRue Feb. 8,1987

These letters are a lot better than they used to beDear editor:

I am a 21-year old student who has been studying abroad for the past year.

I just returned last week and to my surprise found a stack of Reporters waiting for me to read.

I was an avid reader of The Reporter since it first came out and missed it very much while I was away.

I noticed the editorial page, or I say pages, finally have some spunk to them. I can’t believe some of those letters I read. But I have to admit they were very funny considering the boring letters that used to be published.

It’s great that the people of Hoboken can speak their minds and be heard.

Keep up the good work, Hoboken residents, and keep us informed and entertained for the coming year.

Veronica Montana Feb. 8, 1987

These letters aren’t funny, they’re sadDear Editor:

It’s heartbreaking to witness how The Hoboken Reporter letters column has degenerated into a flow of cheap name-calling and gross generalizations. At first reading, these vitriolic letters may seem funny, but when digested the true sadness in them could make you sick.

We like to hope that the venomous opinions expressed aren’t real­ly representative of what the majority of people in this town think.

If they are anything more than the miserable rantings of a select few, Hoboken is in serious trouble.

Sure the Feast bombs are noisy, but aren’t the zeppoles scrumptious? Maybe the yuppies don’t buy curtains, but surely they buy enough other things to help the town’s merchants. Let’s look at the bright side for a change.

Lisa Vickery Bud Proctor

Eight-year residents Feb. 15, 1987

Newspaper promotes prejudiceDear Editor:

The Hoboken Reporter should exercise its journalistic perogative and not publish such narrow-minded, irresponsible letters. They serve no purpose other than to help polarize the community. To un­derscore this, I noticed a flyer in a store window that said: "Room­mate wanted: NO YUPPIES." I would hope The Hoboken Reporter's goal is to serve the community rather than becoming a forum for hate mail. The Hoboken Reporter should be responsible, not sensational.

John Andrews Feb. 15, 1987

No longer laughing at lettersDear Editor:

I must admit that I was amused the first few times I read an anti­Yuppie letter and an anti-Feast Bomb letter. I guessed the editors of The Reporter were having a laugh. However, these letters soon be­came the focus of the editorial pages. I wondered how our only community newspaper could be so irresponsible. What ever hap­pened to editors who combed through the weekly mail looking for letters of value and intelligence? I can only assume that the editors of The Hoboken Reporter believe that the thoughts of the lowest common denominator represent its readership.

What possible good can come of publishing letters that force people to be defensive about their ethnic background or the way they dress? The weekly mudslinging and name calling in the

editorial pages can only increase those tensions and divide our com­munity further. Prejudice is an unfortunate fact of life, but promot­ing it is not.

David G. Grimshaw Feb. 15, 1987

P.S. Publishing four letters in a row about Yuppies being slobs, as you did last week (2/1/87), must be an all-time low in journalistic judgement. What group of people are we going to attack next????

EDITORIAL(The newspaper's response to its critics; published Feb. 22,1987.)

There has been great concern and debate on the subject of the feast letters, and now, the anti-yuppie, anti-oldtimer Letters to the Editor. The issue has become so charged that we feel some com­ment is in order.Principle of access to print

The Hoboken Reporter does not publish letters as a joke, as a sen­sationalist gimmick, or for any cynical reason. It has been the prin­ciple of The Hoboken Reporter that every letter or opinion written by a known, accountable person be published. (Names can be with­held from print but the editors have to know the name and ad­dress.) A community newspaper should reflect the thoughts and concerns of its readers.

Public examination is the best treatment for all manner of thought, including gripes, prejudices and biases. We are sure the best cure for irrational prejudice is to hold it up to the light. All citizens of Hoboken—oldtimers, newcomers, Hispanics, blacks, and everyone else—are forced to come to grips with their own beliefs and sensibilities when they read the various letters we have printed. The onslaught of the most provocative letters, which some consider hate mail, will cause those of greater thought and balance to respond. This is already happening.

It is not irresponsible journalism to publish the beliefs and reac­tions of people who are in the middle of economic and social change which unsettles them. It would be a form of censorship to either cull or quash these expressions. Some people in this com­munity are afraid of change. Some believe they are being harmed by it. Actually, we are all a part of it. Better to have fears ex­pressed and addressed than to leave them smoldering.

We believe it is our duty to continue publishing all letters. We believe, in the long run, the issues should and will be examined in a rational and studied manner leading to a stronger community.

Get your valium out for the feastDear Editor:

Assimilation is a noble goal in democratic society, but it is still an embryo in America’s womb—too late to abort yet too early for birth, as testified by the new influx of immigrants who in years to come will still be chained to the chariot of tradition.

Although I believe that compromise rarely solves a problem, I am willing to concede that setting off the "bombs" at the feasts should be pre-arranged so our nervous neo-residents can prepare their Valium.

Yours truly Ralph Ruggiere

Mar. 1, 1987

Crowds await the start of the 1986 Madonna dei Martiri feast.

168 YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Feast or Famine?

Write your congressman, stop the letters, ban the editorial page, and fire the editorDear Editor:

I know yuppies don’t like being insulted, but neither do Italians, Catholics, or the church. So if everyone would agree to stop answer­ing the letters printed, in a few weeks there will be no more insult­ing letters to print and we can start fresh with only letters about real problems that are going on in our city.

If that doesn’t work, then we should all write our congressman and have the Editorial Page banned from The Reporter.

Let’s all try to get together and learn to live with each other. We can all make this town a better place to live in if we would just stop insulting each other.

R.G. Carpenter A Concerned Citizen

Mar. 8, 1987P.S. Sorry I didn’t print my address, but I feel it is none of your business where I live. If this letter is not printed, I will start a peti­tion to have you fired.

Someone might take these letters seriously and do something crazyDear Editor

You people seem to think this is all a joke. Well, it’s not funny anymore. Someone might really take those letters seriously and do something crazy.

If The Reporter has any sense of humanity, you would stop print­ing those letters.

Janine Newmann Mar. 8, 1987

Yuppies are not that badDear Editor:

I am writing to say that I am sorry there is bad feeling stirred up in Hoboken because of the feast. I have lived in Hoboken for many years and I hope we can all learn to get along together. The Feast is very loud, and maybe no one paid any attention to the complaints until now. And the yuppies are not all bad. Everybody who has lived in Hoboken a long time was a newcomer when they first ar­rived. They should remember that.

Donna Ferrara Mar. 15, 1987

The feast letters opened my eyes about yuppiesDear Editor:

I cannot believe how many letters I read about yuppies. I thought they were decent people trying to help our town, but I guess I was wrong. Reading those feast letters also opened my eyes.

Cecilia Pizza Mar. 22, 1987

Looking forward to first feastDear Editor:

I have recently moved to Hoboken and I guess I have my first "feast" to look forward to. I have been reading The Hoboken Reporter for a few months now, and I wonder if people in town just don’t like me because I haven’t lived here very long? Do I have nothing to contribute to the community simply because some people would call me a "yuppie"? Or is there something else be­sides a pro-feast or anti-feast resident of Hoboken?

I will write again with my comments on my first "feast." Until

then, I will walk around in Hoboken hoping that I can live here in peace.

Sincerely, Allison Lucas Mar. 29, 1987

I’m a newcomer and I don’t have an opinion on the feast yetDear Editor:

I would like to comment on Allison Lucas’ letter ("Looking for­ward to first feast" 3/29/87). I, too, am newly arrived in town, and I ’m beginning to wonder what I got myself into. Be assured that I am going to experience my first feast this year as a (I hope) disin­terested observer; I don’t have an opinion yet (but NEXT year!!???) I enjoy reading the feast letters, but I hope that the senti­ments expressed are meant with a light vein; I ’ll find out after I ’ve been in town a while longer.

George Demner Apr. 16, 1987

California man has a dream about HobokenDear Editor:

I was a student at Stevens Institute in the early 1940s and living in Hoboken, the town must have changed. In my day the only con­flict was between the Irish Democrats and the Italian Democrats.

A couple of years ago I had a dream about Hoboken. In the morn­ing I tried to draw a map of Hoboken as I remembered it. No yup­pies but lots of good food and beer in those days.

Charles Bittmann Los Altos Hills, California

Apr. 12, 1987

Dump the semi-Sinatras and quasi-Carusos of feast for a "Hands Across Hoboken"Dear Editor:

What bothers me about the feasts are not necessarily the bombs, which last only a short while, anyway, but the semi-Sinatras and quasi-Carusos crooning and wailing, respectively, until the wee

hours at earthshaking volumes. And is yet another chorus of "Push, Push in the Bush" really necessary? I think not.

I am neither an Old Time Italian nor a Block-headed Ivy Leaguer. As an "other" Hobokenite, I propose a solution to this feast con­troversy, something I call "Hands Across Hoboken." Should I receive the Nobel Prize for the idea, I promise to display the medal at the Hoboken Library. Can you imagine the ham-handed Italians linking arms with the horn-rimmed Yuppies down Washington Street from Observer Highway clear up to 14th Street. And everybody maybe singing, "C’mon people now/everybody get together/etc." Yeah, and we could maybe even set off some really loud bombs to mark the beginning of the festivities. Yeah!

A former near-Yuppie Apr. 16, 1987

If we vote on the Feast, will the Italians rig the voting booths?Dear Editor:

The impression I get is that if these articulate anti-feast (bomb) ac­tivists were to win their cause, they will, if you will excuse the favorite American opprobrium, simply find something new to bitch about. However, in true democratic "tradition," why not put the whole silly issue to bed by voting on it the next time around?

The only problem is that if the anti-feast (bomb) contingent were to take the count, some sore loser will invariably claim collusion be­tween the Croesusean Catholic Colossus and those rude, arrogant and clannish Italians who more likely than not rigged all the voting booths.

Ralph Ruggiere Apr. 9, 1987

Ralph Ruggiere needs a wife or else he will end up in a nuthouseDear Editor:

I ’m SICK and TIRED of this idiot Ralph Ruggiere writing every day to complain about silly things. This man could not spell CAT if you gave him two letters to spell it. This gentleman must stay up all night to write and bitch about something. Give us all a break.

Go and get married so you'll have something to occupy your mind, or they are going to put you in a nuthouse where you belong.

Big Joe Longshoreman Apr. 9, 1987

Rugglere says he’s SICK and TIREDDear Editor:

Personally, I am SICK and TERED of reading letters written by pretentious boors who are SICK and TIRED of reading letters writ­ten by me.

One boor in particular is Big Joe Longshoreman who apparently imbibed a wee too much of that good Irish whiskey while working on the docks.

I humbly suggest that Big Joe adapt his literary tastes to some­thing a little more compatible to his rather limited comprehension, needless to say — the FIJNTSTONES.

Ralph Ruggiere Apr. 26, 1987

Start a special section for RalphDear Editor:

Why doesn’t The Reporter eliminate the Feast section and put in a special section for Ralph Ruggiere? Perhaps you could even hire him as a writer for your paper. It seems to me that this man is un­employed anyway. How else would he have all that free time to write to all the local papers.

Annie Murphy Apr. 26, 1987

Maybe Ralph already has a wife.Dear Editor:

This is in response to the Big Joe Longshoreman’s letter, "Rug­giere Needs A Wife" (4/9/87). Perhaps Ralph is already married but just dissatisfied with his life and needs to take his frustrations out

on others. Why else would he continue to write to all the editorial pages of all the local papers? Yes, I ’ve seen his letters in the Jour­nal, Dispatch, Post, etc.

Paul Murphy Apr. 26, 1987

I’ll marry you, RalphDear Mr. Ruggiere:

I am a single woman, tall with blond hair and blue eyes. I am a graduate of Montclair State College and have a Masters in Sociol­ogy. I am looking for a single intelligent man like you for dating and possibly marriage.

If you are lonely and are looking for someone, please get in touch with me through this paper.

Desiree B. Apr. 26, 1987

Editor's note: Sorry, but Ralph Ruggiere tells us he has been mar­ried for 27 years.

Ralph responds to the local ostrichesDear Editor:

Recent responses to Ralph’s rather prolific opinions suggests that yours truly may very well wind up acting as a sort of literary om­budsman (if not facetiously an obstetrician) to the local ostriches.

However, I would like to tie up a few loose ends—notably—writer Annie Murphy (presupposing no relation to the famous Bridey) who implied in her letter of 4/26 that America’s legion of un­employed are parasites and ineligible to participate in partisan politics.

Writer Paul Murphy (presupposing a relation to Annie and Bridey) intimated that Ralph, by virtue of occasional vitriol, is more or less a victim of unrequited love. In this context may I remind the meretricious Mr. Murphy that most humanity, including himself, live lives of "quiet desperation."

The delectable Desiree B. who wrote the delightful marriage proposal to me, all I can do is offer this poetic description:

Who looks at beauty with glad eyes And finds in it surcease from care,

Who marks some small and lovely thingIs praising God all unaware.

Ralph Ruggiere Apr. 30, 1987

Must we longtime residents look like fools to the newcomers with these pitiful, third-rate carnivals?Dear Editor:

As summer approaches let us keep in mind that it has been nearly a year since the "Feast Bomb Controversy" began. As of this date nothing has been resolved.

Are we to be subjected to another series of these absurd medieval spectacles with their attendant filth, noise, traffic, disruption, etc.?

Why do we allow these adherents to a foreign religion (Roman Catholicism), these agents of a reactionary, authoritarian govern­ment (the Vatican), to wreak havoc in our streets under the guise of religious freedom?

Must we longtime residents of Hoboken once again be made to look ridiculous in the eyes of the many newcomers to our town by allowing these pitiful third-rate carnivals to take place this summer?

Or will our heretofore spineless public officials somehow sum­mon up the nerve to refuse the necessary permits allowing these events, for once acting in the public good, carrying out the wishes of the vast majority of Hoboken citizens, rather than catering to or­ganized special interests?

B.F.June 4, 1987

Bombs light up a Hoboken street during the 1987 Feast of St. Ann.

Epilogue

The sun always shines when the saint comes out.At least that’s what the parishioners of St. Ann’s believe. Yet on

the annual feast day—the first in the summer of 1987—the heavens darkened and lightning ripped across the rooftops. Out in the street, the faithful opened their umbrellas.

"C’mon St. Ann,” they beseeched at the foot of the church steps. Some 1000 devotees, many of them mothers and grandmothers, braved the blustery winds for this patron saint of women. Soggy gusts mussed their hair-sprayed coifs and soaked their Sunday clothes.

’’She’s coming out!” they screamed in anticipation every so often, as the six-foot, 600-pound statue stood inside the church vestibule, its upper half hidden behind the top of the doorway.

"Bring her face out, Nicky,” one woman yelped. "Her face!”At times these people seemed more like groupies than worship­

pers of the Lord as they hollered for the saint in the rain.Within half an hour, the weather cleared slightly, and the march­

ing band bellowed an old Italian folk song. St. Ann emerged from the church, riding the shoulders of men, and then women, parishioners. Onlookers grasped at the statue’s cape for good luck, and stuffed money into a hanging satchel. The drizzle slowed to light mist, as patches of blue sky peeked through the stone-gray clouds. Oldtime residents gathered with friends on stoops, in weed- covered backyards, and in social clubs, sipping homemade wine or eating free roast beef sandwiches from the San Giacomo Democratic Club (established 1935), a haven for St. Ann devotees.

Soon, warm sunshine poured over the feast gatherings. The proces­sion paused in front of one old tenement where an elderly man, his movements slow and shaky, blessed himself and wept uncon­trollably. The skies resounded with man-made thunder.

Feast bombs--the kindling for the greatest public debate in recent

Devotees line the streets for the 1987 Feast of Madonna dei Martiri.

Hoboken history—exploded on the ground and in the air all day long.

The next Sunday, and one Sunday a month later, the roadways again rumbled with fireworks during the 62nd annual Feast of the Marie SS Di Montevergine, and the 70th annual Madonna dei Mar­tiri Feast.

After a year of feuding, the bombs were back, although on a much smaller scale. Both the Madonna dei Martiri and Montever­gine feasts sponsored only one day of fireworks each, rather than their normal nine and six days, respectively.

But it wasn’t because of the feast letters, the petition-threats, or even the changing cityscape. Alas, insurance, not yuppies, forced a cutback in the blasts.

"For me to have fireworks every night at $750 a day, I just can’t swing it," Joe Lotito, an organizer of the Montevergine feast, said of the threefold increase in 1987 fireworks insurance.

"If they don’t hear as many bombs as last year, it is not because we’re giving in because of the feast letters. It’s because we can’t af­ford the price of the insurance," Vincenzo DePinto, President of the Society Madonna dei Martiri, said emphatically a few weeks before

his group’s feast on Labor Day weekend. "It’s not because we’re giving into these people, these hippies..."

With the decrease in the blasts, the feast letters controversy flick­ered and burned out, like the smoky mess of ashes left on the pave­ment following a fireworks display. A mere three Sundays of incen­diaries did not irritate the "yuppie hordes" enough to spark another battle of the pens, especially since most residents missed the ex­plosions. Feast or no feast, new and old Hobokenites usually flee the humid city on weekends in July and August for the beaches of the Jersey shore, leaving those behind to blow off their bombs and sweat on their stoops.

Meanwhile, many local commentators were distracted by Ralph Ruggiere, a third generation Hobokenite and perennial letter-writer who submits an average of three letters a week to The Reporter and other newspapers, including The New York Times, Washington Post, New York Daily News, The Record of Hackensack, N.J., Jer­sey Journal of Jersey City, and The Dispatch of Union City. The 53-year old traffic analyst states, "If I had to read every paper I write to...oh my gosh!"

With less than 10 years of formal education, Ralph is "a voracious reader" with a penchant for Boolean algebra, a discipline involving the simplification of mathematical expressions to their most basic elements. "I adapted that principal to letter writing," he explains.

"My wife sees me walking around the house talking to myself. She asks me what I ’m doing. I say, ‘I ’m composing a letter,’" he states. "I’ve got more opinions than you can shake a stick at. It’s all a lot of fun."

In the spring and summer of 1987, Ralph struck a nerve with such remarks as: "I’ve come to the conclusion that the decline of the West began not with the women’s vote, but by allowing females to drive a car—voila—women’s lib"; and "teenagers are beginning to believe their own press that everyone else are responsible while their ilk are invincible—a product of the visual medium controlled by juvenile-minded masters who try to justify their own profligate proclivities..."

Rebuttals to Ralph filled each issue for the next few months, over­shadowing the faint afterglow of the feast feud. "Madonna mi," Ruggiere wrote in July. "With all the anti-Ralph sentiment, I now know what Custer felt at Little Big Horn."

Local women cany the statue during the 1987 Feast of St. Ann’s.

One of the only feast-related letters published by The Hoboken Reporter in the summer of 1987 was a grateful, elated comment about the "return" of the St. Ann’s festivities.

Formerly among the largest summer events in Hoboken, it used to fill the streets around the church and two empty lots nearby. But by the summer of 1986, developers had built townhouses on one of the vacant comers and converted an unused school across the street into condos. For the first time, the sprawling celebration confined it­self to a parking lot behind the rectory.

The church claimed they voluntarily reduced the celebration in deference to their new neighbors, but rumors spread about the al­leged efforts of the condo and townhouse owners to ruin the sacred jamboree.

In July 1987, however, the feast returned to its previous stature, a triumph not just for the devotees, but for the entire community. Traditions, it appeared, could survive in the "new" Hoboken,

weathering the unremitting transformation of both the immediate neighborhood and the city at large. e ,

to * i_ .k

Joseph Barry (left) is Founder, Publisher and Editor-in-Chief of The Hoboken Reporter and five other weekly newspapers. He has been developing subsidized housing in Hoboken and other areas of Hudson County, N.J., since 1970. His columns on Hoboken politics, real estate, and social trends are widely read.

John Derevlany (right) edited The Hoboken Reporter from April 1986 to June 1987. He has written about the vast changes occurring in Hoboken since moving to the city from Queens in 1985. Derev­lany is the winner of several first place feature writing honors, in­cluding the 1987 Truth is Stranger than Fiction Award from the North Jersey Press Association.

Ken Clare has been the The Hoboken Reporter's staff photog­rapher since 1984. In addition to The Reporter, his photos have ap­peared in House Beautiful, The New York Times, Popular Mechanics, and on "Eye on New York," a news show narrated by Edwin Newman. His work has been exhibited in several galleries in the area, and he is currently working on a project concerning color photographs of England.

‘It is war out there in Hoboken, New Jersey...’

WOR Radio personality John Gambling commenting on The Hoboken Reporter letters

YUPPIES INVADE MY HOUSE AT DINNERTIME is a collection of letters printed in The Hoboken Reporter newspaper over the past four years. Here, in their own words, is what happens to the people in a city undergo­ing several years of intense gentrification. It is a'story of Reeboks, real estate, Radical Chic yahoos, yorkies, yokels, urinal cleaners, feast bombers, brunch eaters, "weird people with sneakers and dresses," condos, cafes, lack of parking, "the wackiest mayor in America," and joyriding yuppie slobs versus "good clean decent yuppies." But most of all, it is a moving account of a community in transition, of new and old, of discovery and displacement. Through their letters, recent and longtime inhabitants of Hoboken portray both sides of urban revival in the United States, where once-dying cities face a "renaissance" that obliterates as much as it renews.

"When historians tabulate Ronald Reagan’s failings, hous­ing will be right at the top. More than anything else, Yup­pies Invade is the story of what happens when Reagan’s free market is permitted to rein; housing goes to the highest bidder and to hell with everything else. The medium for telling this important tale is one of our most democratic of institutions, the letter to the editor. The writers, ordinary people of Hoboken, are touching, funny, sweet, and sometimes angry as hell. What emerges is a delightfully detailed portrait of Hoboken’s soul, a story being repeated all over America in the 1980s."

Michael Winerip The New York Times