Thursday, April 3, 2014

Time for Another Reunion


Thank you to Jon and Hugh for sending along the important and sad news and for giving us the opportunity to extend condolences to the Weinlandt and Corrigan families.  I add to the list Joel Carr, who died on February 27, 2014.  Joel served with distinction as Saltaire's Mayor for several terms.  He and our Dad were known as the "Odd Couple" of Saltaire as they jogged the boardwalks together, socialized with their remarkable wives, Peggy and Sue, and managed the governmental affairs of the Village Beautiful for many years when Dad served as Village Administrator. These recent passings, added to the many others over the years, plus reading the names of the addressees on this email and thinking about so many others, cannot help but bring smiles of memory, stretching back over many decades-- all of them Saltaire-based.  We are strangers to each other, some are friends and many more are acquaintances of varying degrees of familiarity, but all of us are Saltairians. Some of us still call Saltaire home, others are away. But all of us have Saltaire in our DNA. In a wonderful way, the ferries, boats, docks, bay, ocean, the field and playground, the store (sadly, at least in memory, for the time being), race week, the wagons and bikes, the day camp, the boardwalks, the poison ivy and deer, the Yacht Club and its bar, main room, movies, dances, dinners, Labor Day shows and church bazaars, the Village Hall, post office and doctor's office all endure as part of who we are. Many of us have lost parents, aunts and uncles (but there continues to be a healthy and active group of octogenarians who are our life models and heroes!).  Too many of us have lost children, siblings, spouses and peers.  But our shared grief does strengthen our memory bonds. For me, the recent deaths have generated a cascade of flashbacks centering on our parents' generation.  Jimmy O'Hare did a wonderful job remembering Mrs. Weinlandt in a way that rings true for many of us.  It triggered memories for me of Bill and Ed Weinlandt and so many others playing softball when the aging Dads of Saltaire (who were much younger than we are now) took the field in legendary games like "Marine Walk v. The World" or sailed to infamy in Sunday Yacht Club "Landlubber Races" which were more about sandbar groundings than speed, and multi-generation bumper pool games at the Club. I remember Bill Weinlandt and so many other Dads wearing their dress shorts, knee high socks, jackets and ties as church ushers and at Club formals.  I remember Mr.Corrigan, Dick Starkey (still!), Charlie Shaw, Dad, Norman Monath, Harry and Ray Scanlan and others forming chorales of sorts at Our Lady Star of the Sea and Mrs. Corrigan, through last summer, faithfully trudging the boardwalks to daily Mass. Without naming names, we remember the men and women who served as Village and Yacht Club officials, played banjo, piano, accordion and guitar and music of all kinds, built our recreational facilities, organized the day camp. softball, soccer basketball tournaments, jogathons and festivals, taught us to swim and sail, hired us to work as camp counselors, swim instructors, lifeguards, ferry deckhands, Village, store and Yacht Club employees and, of course, the tennis players and fisher folk.  May they all rest in peace. To my ears, our Saltaire rings true as part of this John Masefield stanza : "I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-roverAnd quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over." To which I add : "And all come back next year...." 

 Bill Cunningham  (JR)



Beautifully written, Bill.  Yes, we did know of Joel’s passing, and as you say he and the others were links to the Saltaire we grew up in, the community that brings back such happy memories to us all, and which is, sadly, vanishing into the past.  I look around and reflect on how many of our parents’ generation has passed away in recent years, and how quickly it seems the changing of the guard can occur.
Yet Saltaire remains, as it has for a century and more, and this is fitting.  Amidst loss and change we remember that all of us are simply custodians of the place.  We enjoy it for a period of time, shape it to our needs, and hopefully have the wisdom to accept the inevitable changes that time and people bring about.  (We all know how accommodating Saltairians can be to change!)  We make sure Saltaire serves not only for our own pleasure and relaxation, but for those of the generation that comes after us — and the ones after them.  We look about today and see the far-sightedness of the founders of the village in setting aside land for the recreation field, incorporating so we can manage our own affairs and maintain the community in its founding spirit, instituting the camp program, lifeguards, a fire department, retaining green space, preserving our beaches and dunes and bayfront, and favoring families by keeping commercial space to a bare minimum...insuring the continuation of all the things you wrote of that infuse our memories.  
We are the beneficiaries of this foresight.  And we’re fortunate that these decisions made the village the kind of place that would draw so many wonderful people to Saltaire generation after generation, people who would be good citizens as well as lifelong friends.  We have been provided with an irreduceable foundation for allowing the village to grow and change as necessary while retaining the community’s essential character.
Our parents were the inheritors of this tradition and this responsibility and passed it on to us, as we prepare to pass it on yet again.  That too is a tradition, an inevitable part of life, and a necessity.  It’s the role we play in giving life to Saltaire, preserving and enhancing it and everything it means to us. Those who succeed to the task will create their own memories as they sustain and improve our community, comforted by the friendships they’ll make and the enjoyment they’ll derive in the recurring story of Saltaire. 
Hugh  (JR)  



 note to all

THE TIME HAS COME FOR THE SECOND SEXENNIAL  REUNION OF ALL SALTAIRE GENERATIONS.The first  one was in 2008,         so we must have one this coming  September.

This MUST  be done.  Bill Cunningham, please set it up. EVERYBODY CHIP IN. Please.  The majority of us are not getting any younger. 

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Early Saltaire View with just the Casino

This postcard is from a series of very early   promotional postcards.  
This one is very interesting.
Look carefully. To the east  of the casino there is nothing.  Nothing, not a single house within view. Not the Hilton House, not O'Shea,  nothing.  There is a big promotional sign  (illegible here) in about the middle of the scene, that is it.  This must be from the very first or second summer.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Mrs. Helen Weinlandt passed away on March 20, 2014.

Look. It is impossible to say a few words about somebody who  lived to be 103. So anything you say is necessarily shortchanging a very full life.

I am trying to think of one tiny thing:

It is maybe 1957. That makes me maybe  10 1/2 years old. I am sitting on the porch of our O'Hare house at the corner of Pomander and Neptune Walks. It is in the evening, getting towards dusk. Summer. 
There was always one evening in the middle of the week that Mrs. Weinlandt would walk by our house, always around the same time to go to the Post Office. The Post  Office was on Pomander Walk, sort of diagonally across from our house.
It was regular, this one evening, middle of the week  in the summer. Like quiet clockwork.

There were two phone booths in the lobby of the Post Office. Mrs. Weinlandt used to call  New York on weeks when Mr. Weinlandt was in the City.

When she would walk by, she was quiet, sometimes looked at us, nod her head hello. I remember smile. I remember quiet. Perhaps my mother would say hello to her, she would say hello to us, and she would walk into the post office. And always a nice smile. It was always quiet that time of the evening.

Then, after a while, she would come out and walk home. She had a flashlight later in the summer when the sun went down earlier.

Nothing unusual about seeing people walk by our house. For instance, usually around the same time Mrs. Severe, old white haired lady who ran the candy store, would walk by our house to go to the playground. Ms. Severe would swing on the swings quietly, alone, just after dark when all the kids were gone. This was after she had closed the candy store for the night. Probably around the same time that Mrs. Weinlandt would make her weekly telephone call.

Nothing unusual about any of this. Just some pictures I have  in my head.
Mrs. Weinlandt used to walk to and from the phone booth for lots of summers, even in years that most people started getting telephones (party line only).

A long, long, time later, Jeff told me why she kept going to the phone booth at the Post Office: they didn't get a phone in their house  for years.   Bill Weinlandt was a wise man. And I guess he didn't want to lie to his friends in the City. He wanted to honestly tell his business associates that he had no phone at the beach, so they should not try to get a hold of him when he was on vacation. I am sure the Weinlandts liked it that way. Eventually, I am sure, they got a telephone. I know Danny has a phone number out there. I called him last summer. But until they  finally got a phone, Mrs. Weinlandt walked to the post office to make her calls.

But I keep having that memory:  Mrs. Weinlandt, walking, quietly, evening, to the Post Office, going in for a while, then quietly walking back. Back, forth, long time ago. Real peaceful. Nice smile. Perfect quiet evenings, a long, long time ago. 

I still see it.

Helen Weinlandt, at 84

Thursday, March 20, 2014


Note: Helen Weinlandt passed away on March 20, 2014.  She lived 103 years.

The only way to do it: with friends and good cheer.

Who can see a relative here?

Ans: they waited out a hurricane together in 1957. (Or was it only yesterday?)
The only thing Jeff W. never told me: Where the hell were the kids during this horrible hurricane?
Who's who:
Five seated in front from left: Oliver Hull; Georgiana Hull; Bill Weinlandt; Helen Weinlandt; Rita Connelly.
Three in rear: Paul Connelly (II?) Mr.Aherne and Mrs. Aherne.

Friday, December 6, 2013


Click image to enlarge and expand This gem of a picture courtesy Bill Poteat from the Billbob Collection.
We easily pick out at least 20 people here. It's only 58 years ago.
How many can you name? Post in "Comments"

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Buying Fish in Saltaire in the 1950's

click to enlarge

Capt. Baldwin, 1949, photo by Bill Weinlandt
Courtesy and copyright Bill J. Weinlandt 2008

If you wanted to buy fish you went down to the dock or over to the cove (were there was a path beaten through the rushes) to buy your fish from the hermit Captain Baldwin.

But woe to those who invaded his turf selling fish. See notes by Cosmo and FOSSIL here as to what happened to Capt. Murdock.

(ed note: originally posted may 19, 2008)1/11/09

Wednesday, December 4, 2013


Cosmo reports to

Back in the 1940’s and 1950’s, there were two “Baymen” left working the Great South Bay off of Western Fire Island. They were Capt. Baldwin and Capt. Murdoch. Both made their living from the bounty of the Bay, selling fish, clams and oysters to the summer residents. They would ply the waters with rowboats or small dories. I still remember seeing Capt. Baldwin pull up to the Saltaire dock in the early 1960’s when I was still a young boy.

Capt. Baldwin was paralyzed from the waist down, but he had incredible strength in his upper body. There was stiff competition between Capt. Baldwin and Capt. Murdoch for the limited business between Seaview and Kismet, which led to intense animosity between the two. At some point, an agreement was reached whereby Capt. Murdoch sold to the residents of Dunewood, Fire Island Summer Club, Ocean Beach and Seaview, and Capt. Baldwin would sell to Fair Harbor, Saltaire and Kismet. Their animosity reached the point where there was violence on the Bay. Then, one day, Capt. Murdoch disappeared and was seen no more. The rumor was that Capt. Murdoch had been murdered by Capt. Baldwin, thought he was never charged.

Capt. Baldwin lived on an old clam boat on Clam Pond, which was decrepit and half full of water. In the early days, he lived primarily on oysters, which he would shuck, and discard the empty shells over the sided. In later years, as the oysters died off, he switched to clams. As his boat was far from seaworthy, each year he would pull his clam boat further up on the pile of shells, which grew higher and higher each year.

How he survived living through the winters on an old clam boat, half full of water is beyond me. Apparently, he had a small stove on the boat for heat, and an old lounge chair perched in the portion of his boat that remained above water. I recall the story about one winter when Helen Krowlakowski, worried that Capt. Baldwin was starving to death out in the Cove, went out to see him with a baking pan full of pork chops, thinking that it would last him a week, but which Capt. Baldwin devoured on the spot.

I also recall being told how Capt. Baldwin used to work at the Kismet Inn opening clams. He was quite a cantankerous old salt, who hot along with no one. One night, someone else patronizing the Inn got on his wrong side, and despite being crippled, cleared the twenty or so feet across the bar and almost slit the man’s throat before he was stopped.

Robin Wright told me the stories how Capt. Baldwin would run off any of the local kids that got near his boat with a shotgun. One day, Robin, Bobby Aherne (Squirt) and Mike Fitzgerald determined to get a look at the inside of Capt. Baldwin’s boat. They waited until he left to go fishing. What he saw, and what happened to them is best told by Robin.

I vaguely remember that eventually, Capt. Baldwin got to the point where the authorities came and took him away and put him in a home.

Everything related herein up to this point was oral history, but in the mid 1980’s, Bill Goldsmith (aka Bilbo), who is an archeologist by trade, went out to clam cove with my brother Chris in search of the site of Capt. Baldwin’s old boat. Sure enough, the remains were still there. They dug into the pile of shells, finding clamshells on top, but oyster shells further down. There was little left of the boat, as the wood had all rotten away. The only thing that was left was Capt. Baldwin’s old head, which, being made of porcelain was still intact. They brought his head back, and put it on our back deck at 104 Marine Walk. I remember it being a beautiful summer day, and my parents and other local residents were enjoying the day drinking. That night, one of the worst storms I ever experienced at Saltaire struck. Robin Wright woke me in the middle of the night imploring me to help him with the Full House, which was moored off Neptune Walk at the time. The storm was so severe that the wind blew, dragging his mooring, and blowing the boat up against the bulkhead. I had a motor boat at the time, and we went out in the storm and, between his two engines and my outboard, eventually dragged the Full House back out to deeper waters. The next morning, we found that the wind had picked up all the Hobbie Cats on the bay front, blew them up thirty to forty feet, and dropped them back to earth upside down, breaking most of the masts. Clearly, Capt. Baldwin was very angry at his old haunts being disturbed, and worse, his head taken. Bilbo and my brother returned the head back to where they had found it in Clam Cove. Apparently, Capt. Baldwin was appeased, as Saltaire has never seen a storm like it since.



Chris Hull, Bill Goldsmith and I went to Capt. Baldwin old foundation site,made up of clam shell and oyester shells, to do some excavating.The only thing we found was a piece of an old toilet. That night we had afierce tropical storm. Capt. Baldwins spirit still lives on. We returnedthe piece to where we found it.


Winter 1947-48 Captain Baldwin staked his claim on Clam Pond.That spring Captain Murdock, who lived on his houseboat on the South side on the Pond, disappeared, presumed drowned. Bill Cerveny and Herbie Paine reported hearing gunshots in that time frame - nothing ever came of it. No body = no crime. Captain Baldwin now had the fishing and clam trade in Saltaire and Fair Harbor. He was not allowed in Kismet.On weekends he used to work at Dick Grenameyers (Kismet Inn) shucking clams. He worked for whiskey, and one time he claimed that the bartender shorted his drinks. Words were exchanged and Captain Baldwin pulled a knife and tried to cut the mans throat. Persona non grata after that. He died sometime in the fifties. Helen and Eddie Krolikowski took him to the mainland and he died in the hospital shortly hereafter.


Another set of recollections from Beaver/Frank Mina:

Captain Baldwin's residence, though in close proximity to the water in the Cove was basically built from scrap lumber - Frank & Richie McManus ventured down to Capt Baldwin's shack after he died and went inside - it was sort of Beverly Hillbillys' chic. Frank remembers Capt Baldwin selling clams/fish to his mother and that he was able to stand up(possibly disspelling the story that he was paralyzed from the waist down). Frank also stated that Baldwin could have been a world champion rower and confirmed the story I had heard that after the '38 Hurricane Capt. Baldwin was found way down east in his rowboat. Frank claims that there were a number of Capt Murdoch's - they were a large Bayshore family and it was very likely that one or two actually ran ferries in the early days. Gil Clark's mother, according to Frank, was a Murdoch - Gil's full name was Gilbert Murdoch Clark. Frank also said that there were, years ago two Capt. Baldwin's in Fair Harbor - he doesn't know if "our" Capt Baldwin was one of them. Again, all good yarns which make all of posts interesting.

(ed note: first posted Feb 15, 2008)1/11/09

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Skinner Lives

Arrival in Saltaire
by Justin Zizes Jr.

Friday, November 1, 2013



We have long been fascinated by the quality of writing of muppets who wrote and edited The Salty Spray 1968-1972, much as old timers lament the loss of the New York Herald Tribune or the old Brookly Eagle.

The Saltaire Historical Society has reprinted all of the Salty Spray issues and bound them, and has made them available at cost of reprinting -- $10. We urge you to pick up the whole volume, through the Historical Society and/or Saltaire Historian III Eliz. Starkey.

We also can’t resist taking some excerpts and posting them here from time to time.

We found a Salty Spray story that goes with a pictorial we ran a few months ago. We take pleasure to rerun those pictures now with the full story as reported in the Salty Spray on August 1, 1969:



The Salty Spray

August 1, 1969

On Sunday, July 27, at 3 p.m., just half an hour late, a roaring game of softball was played by the women of the west side of Saltaire against the women living on the east side of town.
The captain of the east side was Marie Bitzer.

Before the game started, her team assembled at Mary Jane Scanlan’s house. There is a rumor that whisky sours were served.

The captain of the west side players was Florence McManus and she invited her teammates to her house. More rumors.
Before the game started, two east side children, Steve and Susan LeMay, armed with pads and pencils, tried to spy on the west side women—to learn their strategy.
When the teams met at 3 p.m., catcher Mary Jane Scanlan of the east brought her raft. Pitching to her was Grace Gallagher. First Lady Virginia O’Brien caught for the west side and Joan Gowan pitched.
There were two wolves in ladies’ clothing. Matilda (or was it Peter?) Reilly came in her long blue and white culottes which matched the blue bonnet she wore over her lovely long brown hair. Penelope (maybe Mike?) McAllister wore black and yellow flowered culottes.
As the spectators said, “What a game!” It was thrilling from start to finish.

Your Salty Spray reporter noted these other fashionable costumes.

Peggy Cunningham wore long blue jeans, her son’s track shoes and unmatched sun glass lenses. Rita Connelly wore an old lady’s dress, yellow bonnet, old men’s sneakers. She sat in a rocking chair to bat, knit, smoked a corncob pipe, and had to be pulled around in a wagon. She made a tremendous hit which led her team to the victory the west side claims.

Virginia O’Brien wore red long-johns and a “Queen Elizabeth” sailor hat. Her pigtails were tied with a rope. Claire Marcus wore a football shirt numbered “21”, sweat pants and a sailor hat. Marion Scott wore a baseball shirt numbered “32”, baseball pants and navy blue knee socks.
Anne Reilly wore a pair of old fashioned men’s pajamas with a red and blue striped shirt. Her hair was braided and beribboned.
Georgie Hull wore boys’ pajamas, a sailor hat and old men’s sneakers.

Florence McManus wore a blue Snoopy sweatshirt, a pair of old golf pants and an old golf hat.

Joan Gowan wore a pair of sweat pants, a WMCA Good Guy sweat shirt and a sailor hat topped with a Raccoon pompom.
Dottie Campbell wore farmer clothes and a straw hat. Grace Gallagher wore her husband’s surfing pants and a miner’s hat.

As we reported, the west side says it won.

East v. West (late 60s)

All photos copyright J. Wolford, Chicago Il..

Sept 29, 2008:
Michael McAllister said...
Thank you Saltaire38. Not only do I get to see a picture of my Greatgrandmother, my grandmother and me in my mother's belly, but I get to scroll up and see my father in drag.

JOH: Hey Mike: we ran these pictures before. So what is the big surprise? Do you mean to say your father hid this secret from you all these years?

We don't know about Marie's coaching prowess, but there is no doubt she was a Saltaire original:

"Marie Bitzer was without a doubt one of the most flamboyant and memorable characters ever to grace the boardwalks of Saltaire. Her sense of high fashion and dress could have gained her admission to the most high brow costume parties.

I remember specifically one Saturday night in the early fall of 1968. I decided to take a date to the old Oak Beach Inn, which in those days was a great local night club. The only problem was a means of transit from Saltaire to Oak Beach. My father agreed to take us over to the OBI in his boat. Invited along for the trip was both my mother and Marie Bitzer.

Marie got a few drinks poured into her and the entertainment for the evening began. She regaled us with her stories of trips to foreign lands. Among her circle of friends was King Farouk of Egypt and I believe the Shah of Iran. She was house(or more likely palace) guests of both.

Marie's best story was the experience she and her extremely near-sighted husband John had during the Hurricane of '38. As the wind and waves rose Marie(who owned the current Ickes/McElhone residence on Pacific) felt that it would be prudent if both she and John made tracks for higher ground in the Village Hall. Marie related how, as she looked back the tidal surge had ripped up boardwalks behind her. She implored John, who could barely see the nose in front of his face to "hurry the waves are destroying the boardwalk behind us" John, looking back, and barely seeing anything, responded, "Oh Marie, you've always had such a vivid imagination." Thankfully, for Saltaire Marie and John survived the storm with no injuries.

Marie also, in her day, was the preeminent realtor in Saltaire. No one, at that time could out-hustle her for either a sale or rental. Captain Al, out of either respect(or disgust) always would tell us that "if there was a vacant telephone booth in the Village that Marie would rent it to someone for the summer."

Jean Campbell said...

That softball game must have taken place in 1969 because my Mom is using my crutches with her "costume" and I broke my leg in 1968 and would have needed them that summer.

On the "East" team, I recognize Dottie Campbell (my Mom), Grace Gallagher, Mary Fontanals, Lee MacAdam, Dorothy LeMay, Marie Bitzer and I think that's Pat Corrigan on the end.

In the shot of the Florence Gibson with the question of her being the best coach ever, I believe that's my Dad - Ken Campbell - sitting in the bleachers.

Great photos - thanks for posting them. I remember them also being published in the Salty Spray that summer. Hope you've been able to contact the former editors - Elizabeth Elkind, Jane Markus and I think the 3rd one was India Ely.

Was this Saltaire's Greatest Team Ever?

Click Photos to enlarge

Saltaire East
copyright J. Woolford, Chicago, Il

Or was this?
click photo to enlarge
Copyright J. Woolford, Chicago, Il
Saltaire West

We have a half a dozen more pictures to come, one each day, subject to people properly identifying the personalities in these team portraits.

So if you want to see more of these exclusives (there are no "negatives" out there; these originals were Polaroids) you have to tune into

"We report. You decide"

Friday, October 11, 2013

Wondeful hospitality. Always friendly.  If you walked down Pacific Walk by their house, Mrs. and Mr. Zizes would always wave and come out and invite you in.  They would do anything for you, Mr. and Mrs Zizes.

Dorothy Zizes died Oct 10, 2013. Justin Sr.,  a few years ago.
Will always remember this great couple.
Sympathy to Gay and Justin Jr.

Requiescant in Pace. 

Monday, October 7, 2013


Duncan Dobie, one of the best contributors ever to this blog, is presently nominated for NASCAR'S BETTY JANE FRANCE Humanitarian Award.


And Duncan has long written to us about how he brought his Uncle Pete Kuracheck -  honed swimming teaching to Camp Sunshine kids. For over thirty years:

Duncan Dobie writes us, on  7-4-2012:

For the past two weeks I’ve been teaching swimming lessons to teenagers at Camp Sunshine, the children’s cancer camp in Georgia. It, it was our 30th year celebration and my 30th year as a volunteer. Over the years, I’ve taught dozens of kids to swim, using the tried and true techniques we were all taught by our unforgettable mentor in Saltaire so long ago. You better believe I told some of those kids about my “Seal Team 6” training by Uncle Pete and I always reinact our “life-saving” technique that Uncle Pete branded into our brains. If you didn’t go underwater and swim behind him he would engulf you with his Hulk-like body, wrap his arms around you and pull you under with no mercy. Little kids usually have almost no fear of the water and they learn very quickly. But you get a 15 year old who has never been around water and they’re terrified to put their heads under. I had one girl who was a “sinker.” I remember Uncle Pete talking about sinkers and floaters. As I remember, I think he taught us that about 10 percent of the people are sinkers, that is, they cannot float at all, even in salt water. Every time this girl got in the water and tried to swim she went down like the Titanic. Just think, thanks to Uncle Pete all of us could have been heroes in the Seals, Special Forces, Forced Recon, FBI HRT and others, but apparently none of us took advantage of that one-of-kind training.

PS: BELOW ARE SOME more  OF DUNCAN'S contributions to Saltaire38.
Give him a vote.  For his charity.


Thursday, October 3, 2013

The Mark of Caine

Who among those that grew up in Saltaire back in the 20th Century didn't receive one of these?  I never issued a Night Bike Riding Ticket in my three years with Saltaire Security, although I did receive one from Chief Lenny McGahey.  I found this ticket in a file while cleaning out the garage.  The name has been changed to protect the guilty.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Is This Why They Called It "Fire" Island?

From a 100 year old tobacco card.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Sneaky Pete's Chili

        I remember back in the early 1970's when my parents would bring us to Saltaire on Friday evenings in the Fall.  Strangely, as soon as we arrived in Saltaire, my parents would catch the first boat back to Bay Shore.  Of course they were going to the Bacchanalia in the Bay Shore parking lot with Sneaky Pete, Al Skinner and the crew.  I thing they used to get back late via Southard's Water Taxi.
        I always remembered Sneaky Pete's Chili, and I found the original recipe scribed by the Master Chef himself while going through my late Mother's special papers.  The recipe seems a little heavy on the onions, but who am I to question the great culinary skills of an epicure like Sneaky Pete.  

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Happy 75th Anniversary

pics courtesy Frank Mina

Lots of stories in the press and in the Web lately about the Hurricane of 1938. 75th Anniversary

Justin Zizes Jr.  gave us a couple of leads:

Before the Flood: Broadway Postcard and the Casino And the Old Original Saltaire Dock

Originally  posted July 4, 2008

Above Excerpt from Saltaire Brochure from mid 1930's text courtesy Larry Lynch

Post card showing original dock, Casino and Yacht Club
click to enlarge
Jon Lyon chimes in about the white lines on Broadway:
"Someone brought up an interesting observation on the white line boardwalk borders What was the state of street lamps at this time? If low wattage electrical, or dare I say, gaslight, the borders may have served an additional sightline purpose (beyond assisting the expected sway-walkers of your common nighttime Saltarian).
-Jon Lyon

Hugh O'Brien responds:
" I did notice, without commenting upon, the apparent absence of street lamps, and certainly electric poles, in that shot. Clearly this was pre-electricity, which came in in 1937 (with typical Saltaire timing), and if Harry Sr. is right about the prospect and no St. Andrew’s, then this would have been no later than 1920...which I think pre-dates most public lighting, or at least widespread lighting. That might have made the white lines that much more imperative. If only we could enlarge the photo sufficiently and zoom in to see if we could pick up any Harding-for-President buttons on the denizens’ pantaloons.Think of all the old summertime jobs no longer available in Saltaire...gas lamp lighter...line painter...telegrapher...telegram delivery man...Casino shuffler...dune leveler...hurricane gong warden...rum runner, obviously...
-- Hugh O'Brien
Meanwhile, Jeff Weinlandt seemed a little peeved that Hugh is talking about "telegraph delivery boy" as if it were a part of ancient history. Not so, sez Jeff:
Jeff W: "And to think I was once paid by the Saltaire Postmistress 15 cents for each telegram I used to deliver from the Post Office...I was about 12 years old...and 90% of the telegrams went to Frank White's house...I guess Hugh was too young to realize that telegrams were still common in the late 1950's..."
Jeff Weinlandt

Monday, September 9, 2013

Saltaire Ospreys Get Their Breakfast in Bed

Damn Saltaire Kids have it easy. They  get fresh bluefish for breakfast . Their parents spoil them. The parents  drop the food on the kids' heads and then fly out to get more. And the kids sit there and  squalk all day and have this attitude that they are entitled to a free ride.  
(Click on images to enlarge)
Where's Mom? Where's Mom?  We want our breakfast!

Here she is at last-- or is it Dad?

Just drop it here, Ma. 

Nice blue for the kiddies.

She just drops it and flies straight up like a helicopter while the little brats pig out. 
You Got a problem with me,  pal?
I'm protecting Coffey Point.


Sunday, September 8, 2013

Summer of 1969

All pics courtesy Victoria Bjorklund Esq.