6

OPINION
AUGUST 31, 2007

SUBURBANITE

OUR VIEW

Fort Lee Mayor Jack Alter made his life about giving back to people. He cared so much about the borough he called home since 1973, that he worked in his office in borough hall even after his retirement. He wanted the residents of Fort Lee to know that he cared about their concerns for the community he took so much pride in leading. He wanted Fort Lee to be a place where families could learn together. And it is. One of his dreams was to see an aquarium built in the borough. Another one of his dreams was the building of the Fort Lee Community Center on Inwood Terrace, a place where individuals and families can go to enjoy a movie or listen to the favorite kind of music and have a good time. He wanted to see people enjoy Fort Lee and was always receptive when people criticized the

Jack Alter selflessly gave back to others

way he ran the borough. He always put residents needs first. A World War II veteran, he thought that veterans should be respected and remembered for the sacrifices that they made to protect the freedoms we enjoy in this country. Not known as someone who would be bullied, when Edgewater sued the borough last year over a dispute about the traffic pattern on Route 5 leading up to Fort Lee, Alter put a dont tread on us flag in the borough hall. When asked why he did what he did, Alter said it was so fewer vehicles would be on Fort Lee roads so emergency vehicles would have greater access to the roadways. He chastised the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey for planing to place a Geico car insurance ad on the George Washington Bridge. The Port Authority scrapped the idea. When he made his mind up, Alter stuck by his decision.

Listen up, please

As I glanced at the op-ed page in USA Today, a column by Bruce Kluger caught my eye. He was complaining about people not listening. I dont know about Mr. Kluger, but I dont have to go any farther than the kitchen to bring up anecdotal proof. Naturally, we all know that a kid, often a teenager doesnt pay attention when a parent speaks. He or she has obviously decided that its same-old, same-old and turns a deaf ear to anything said. For a while the parents think the poor child may actually be deaf. Then they realize the odds are not so good for four children so inflicted. Thats when parents start raising their voices. That just forces the child to hum until the noise stops. I know a mother who gave up and shouted, Fire! She must not have realized that if she had been in a theater, she could have been thrown in jail. The tricky part is that when you speak to the child, he may even nod or say Yup. This is a ruse, of course. When you remind the child that he said yes, he looks at you with pity, meaning it may be time for the home. Now, it seems that according to Mr. Kluger, in a new book, The First Word: The Search for

THE FLIP SIDE

JEAN SHEPHERD
the Origins of Language, by Christine Kenneally, she suggests that the I-cant-hear-you thing may be more deep-seated than you thought. It may be anthropological. Scientists set up an experiment putting two apes together, both versed in sign language, and encouraged them to chew the fat. However, rather than a warm exchange about the latest ape gossip, they immediately started fighting and ended up in a signshouting match. Neither ape was willing to listen. We had company and yesterday morning I asked Don if hed pick up some bagels when he got the papers. I was going to, he replied. I got the cream cheese and stuff ready and he walked in without a bag. Bagels? I asked. What bagels? he answered. He must have had something else on his mind when we had that conversation. Its not just us. Sometimes I call one of our grown kids and

Alter was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was a father. A grandfather. A mentor. He was someone your eyes were drawn to when he entered the room and had a tone in his voice that made him easy to listen to. He led Fort Lee through one of the countrys darkest days when the borough was at the doorstep of terrorism on 9/11. He was running for an unprecedented fifth term as mayor. Who knows if he would have won his post back, but one things for sure, he would have tried his best, not for himself, but because he thought being the mayor again would give Fort Lee residents the best chance to live happy lives. Area residents should look at the way Alter conducted himself: with dignity and respect. Politicians should look at the way he governed: by putting peoples needs first, ahead of his own political interests.

SEE SHEPHERD, PAGE 9

Theres no sure way to win when you gamble

We went to the beautiful racetrack at Saratoga in upstate New York last week. Our three great grandchildren were visiting from Colorado and, since they all love horses, we thought it would make for a memorable day. It did. I told them that, just for fun, they could each pick a horse and Id bet $2 on it for them. Naturally, they didnt know anything about how you go about picking a horse at the track so they just went with a name they liked. Sierra, who is 11, picked a horse named Paint in the 4th, probably because she has some statuettes of painted ponies at home. It won and paid $8.70. Shea, who is 7, liked the sound of Keen Irish in the 5th. It came in first and paid $20.40. Maison, who is 9, had a horse that was scratched so she got her $2 back, which made her think shed won, too. Maybe she did. At least she did better than I did. I would have been better off if all my picks had been scratched. As I discarded those losing tickets of mine, I couldnt help but think of my dad. He loved the horses, too. Or maybe in his case it would be more accurate to say he had a love-hate relationship with them. The problem with my dads affair with horses was that he was convinced that there was actually a scientific way to predict how fast they would run on any given day. He studied all of the dope sheets Armstrongs, The Daily Telegram, The Racing Forum the way some other people evaluate stock market reports, and he could tell you anything you wanted to know about every horse in every race and the jockeys who rode them. As I said, he was convinced he could beat them but like so many other addicted gamblers he couldnt. The only time dad made any money off the horses was as a bookie. I suppose it was only natural restaurant and, after they sold it, he became a waiter in such restaurants as Cavanaughs Steak House and Shines where the sporting crowd hung out. This, of ED FLYNN course, was before betting became legal at Off Track Betting that dad would become a bookie. and if you wanted to bet on the He was a product of New York horses you had to either go to the Citys Hells Kitchen. He had track or know a bookie. Most been born and raised there and barber shops and pubs had one in he could have been a character in residence. It was, perhaps, a Damon Runyon story. As a kid inevitable, that dad would be he had hung out at places like recruited to their ranks. Stillmans Gym on Eight Avenue It wasnt until I had returned and he even had a few profesfrom service in World War II and sional bouts of his own. He was was working for a weekly newsat home in a world peopled by paper that I found out about ticket scalpers and gamblers who dads sideline. At the time I was a talked out of the corner of their reporter and writing a series of mouths and made words like articles exposing the corruption them come out sounding like of public officials and police who dem. were being paid off by organized Even though we moved to crime to turn a blind eye to illegal Bergenfield when I was 4, dad gambling in New Jersey. One day, always remained a New Yorker at while I was following up tips for heart. He commuted every day the next article, I got a phone call where he worked in his mothers from my dad. Turned out he had

AFTER THOUGHTS

been among several dozen bookies rounded up and arrested in the city. Theyd all been fined and released. Hope it doesnt embarrass you, he said. I told him not to worry about it, that nobody was really interested in exposing small time bookies, but I made him promise to give it up. After all, I didnt want him to end up in jail. As far as I know he kept that promise, but while he may have stopped taking bets he never stopped making them. After wed cashed that winning ticket the other day and I gave my great grandson Shea his $20.40 he wanted to bet again. However, when I explained that hed have to give me the money back so I could bet it for him and that hed probably end up losing it all, he put it in his pocket instead. Smart kid. Too bad my dad never knew when to do that.

Published at 150 River Street, Hackensack, NJ 07601-7172 Editorial Office: 201-646-6930 Fax 201-646-6929

JANICE FRIEDMAN DANIEL HUBBARD Publisher Editor VINCENT CARNEVALE Advertising Sales Manager

STEPHEN BORG, President KERRY RUBIN, Director, Classified TeleCenter GLENN GARVIE, Vice President, Production TYLER TAMBLYN, Distribution Manager