ow! Here it is midsummer already, and what an LBI summer it is turning out to be! Brilliant blue skies, shimmering sun lit water, wild summer storms with colossal clouds, rolling thunder, and earth-quenching downpours followed by some of the most beautiful rainbows in recent memory — and that soul-stirring primal fragrance that permeates the air after the rain — petrichor. These are the glorious days of summer, halcyon and emblazoned in our minds forever. Days of enjoying all that summer has to offer. Days of wide white beaches, warm sand, and crystal-clear water; when the sky is that shade of blue some swear is only seen here, on LBI. Even the trolley is on schedule. Summer 2021 is LBI at its fullest. For me, one of the advantages of growing up on LBI was being surrounded by extended family. I spent a great deal of time with my cousins who lived nearby. My cousin, Leigh Walker, with whom I had the most in common, lived only a few blocks away on Burlington Avenue in Harvey Cedars. Most of the time, we all gathered on Kinsey Cove, at the home of my grandparents, Raymond and Edith Van Meter. There we played, fished, crabbed, and learned about boating. We learned about life, love of family, fair play, and respect for the natural world around us. Leigh’s first boat was aluminum with a ridiculously small outboard motor. I think it was 10-horsepower, small for even those days. Somehow, probably because we didn’t know better, my sister, Merry, and I learned to water-ski from the back of his boat. It must have been a good motor. Or perhaps, I was just small for my age. At some point, Leigh got a great Chris-Craft. Mahogany with seats like a luxury car, it was a beautiful boat. But because we had to be so careful in it, it just wasn’t as much fun. I missed his old aluminum boat, but we sure looked good. In winter, we ice skated on Kinsey Cove with our cousins. As always, my grandparents’ house was home-base. It was our haven; the place to warm up, have a cup of hot chocolate and dip into Grammy’s seemingly bottomless candy drawer. In those days, the High Point Volunteer Fire Company would pump fresh water onto the frozen bay. I never knew why they did this but as children we assumed it was done just for us; the freshly frozen surface was smooth and fast; it sure made ice skating more fun. Recently, I had the pleasure of a phone conversation with LBI iconic artist and dear friend, Marvin Levitt. At 96, Marvin is still painting and enjoying life. He and Susan are doing well in Florida. They miss LBI and old friends here, but not the colder winter temperatures. This issue of Echoes of LBI features more historical photographs from antique glass plate negatives in The Robert Fry Engle Photographic Collection. Once again, I want to thank Joy Lamping Milano and Jerry Milano for entrusting me with the care and preservation of this fragile trove of Island history. Autumn on LBI is spectacular, and many special events are already scheduled. This October 2nd and 3rd, Things A Drift is looking forward to hosting the 14th Annual LBI Sea Glass and Art Festival. The festivities will include the celebration of International Sea Glass Day. I hope you will join us. LBI FLY – Kite Festival is scheduled for October 8th and 9th, and the following weekend, October 16th and 17th, is the annual Lighthouse Challenge of New Jersey. No matter where your journey takes you while you are out and about — walking, running, or biking — please be safe and follow all the rules of the road. As always, it takes a village to publish an issue of Echoes of LBI. Enjoy more sunsets!
Cheryl Kirby Publisher, Echoes of LBI Magazine
@echoesoflbi • echoesoflbi.com • issuu.com/echoesoflbi
Fly fishing at sunrise • Henry Hegeman Photography
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New originals, cards, and prints of all artwork seen in Echoes of LBI are available at Things A Drift in Ship Bottom, NJ, 609.361.1668.
It was a flash of light that woke me, Before the crash of noise. It’s been some weeks without a storm. In the morning I’ll call the boys.
It is a seal! I see the tail! Or is it just my eyes? Or the dreams of youth that linger still And holdout such a prize?
Should be good to comb the beach, A storm like this brings treasures. And when a man gets to be our age, It’s one of life’s great pleasures!
The body seems sleek and I don’t see wounds And seaweed covers its head. I see it move and offer thanks. I’m glad it isn’t dead.
“Not today, we’re going away,” The first guy let me know. “Told the kids we’d watch their dog.” The other couldn’t go.
I look around for other help. There’s only sand and sky. Some seaweed slides from off the head. “Help me,” she says, and looks me in the eye.
So here I was, alone and walking, The surf still large and loud. The wind was stiff and from the north, The sun behind a cloud.
I couldn’t speak, but stared at her, Her face looked like a child. Her arms and hands were oyster-white, Her hair was knotted and wild.
Lots of stuff along the beach, And also much debris. I spotted something large ahead And hurried up to see.
I wrapped my jacket around her, And carried her to the sea. I walked into the surf a way, And bent down on one knee.
A pile of seaweed, or a tire? The wind made sections blow. Reminds me of that seal I found Some fifty years ago.
She swam off rather quickly And seemed to be okay. I wonder, will the guys believe me When I tell about my day? —Ron Bovasso. Artwork by Karen Bagnard
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New originals, cards, and prints of all artwork seen in Echoes of LBI are available at Things A Drift in Ship Bottom, NJ, 609.361.1668.
New originals, cards, and prints of all artwork seen in Echoes of LBI are available at Things A Drift in Ship Bottom, NJ, 609.361.1668. Page 12 • Echoes of LBI
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iana Woodward, a lifelong resident of Ship Bottom, feels as though she has lived forever on Long Beach Island and loved every minute of her experience. “As a child, I lived in the Ship Bottom Life Saving Station. Growing up on the Island back then, the days were long, lazy, and fun-filled. My brother, Daniel, and I would jump into the ocean and drift lazily on a gentle wave that slid us back to the warm sandy beach. Later in the day we’d walk barefoot to the local movie theatre. We’d top off the day with ice cream cones at White’s in Ship Bottom,” she recalls nostalgically. After the innocent days of childhood, Diana emerged as a robust young woman, and was admitted to Syracuse University where she pursued her passion for art. She enjoyed the academic and carefree life of a university student. But Diana’s university days of the 1940s
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would come to a harrowing halt during the summer of her junior year. She had taken a summer job as a counselor in a children’s day camp. One day, she returned home, and was struck so hard with pain she bent over a chair and called out to her mother. The pain persisted for days. Worried about the mysterious illness of their daughter, within the week Diana’s parents drove her to a hospital in Philadelphia. She vividly recalls the events of that day. “We sat in the waiting room praying. Soon, the doctor emerged with a concerned look on his face. ‘I’m sorry to tell you, but your daughter has polio. We can move her to a rehab where she may improve,’ he added, offering some hope.’ “ “ I listened quietly to the doctor’s words,” said Diana. "I thought about my Quaker upbringing and about the power of the practice of reflection that I learned in the Quaker meetinghouse.”
The young patient was admitted to a rehab hospital in Philadelphia. Determined to overcome polio, Diana put her energy into strengthening her weakened muscles, dreaming of the day she would regain the use of her limbs. Within time, Diana’s body healed, and she returned to the Island. She regained strength, with only a slight impairment to her left leg, which persists to this day. “One of my favorite memories of the Island is about the Lucy Evelyn when it was moored in Beach Haven,” says Diana. “My mother convinced me to stand in the bow and then she snapped a picture of me.” Diana obtained a job teaching art in Barnegat Light. Her work as a teacher reminded her that talent can begin at any age. When giving an art lesson to a kindergarten class, she asked the children to draw a picture of her. “I was struck by a little girl’s ability to add details such as my earrings and the child’s perspective of me leaning over the desk.” Eventually, Diana married and had two children. “Life still had its ups-and-downs. I experienced losses and grief. But because I seek to keep joy in my life, I can be aware of the pain and discomfort of divorce and the passing of a husband. And I leave room for that pain, but I can also let in the joy of everyday living.”
Diana’s talent is evident throughout her home. Sea-theme paintings decorate a bedroom; shell vases, she crafted, sit as bookends on the fireplace mantle; the fireplace shelf, which holds her treasures, was one “...I dragged home from the beach as driftwood and my husband, Gene, refinished.” she said. Known and loved as the energetic, former President of the Garden Club of Long Beach Island, Diana recalls, “I think my best contribution to the club has been a tradition I changed. Each year on May Day, members would make a bouquet for other members. I suggested we make bouquets for women in the community who live alone.” That thoughtful idea became a tradition that remains today. Despite everything, Diana soldiers on. These days, macular degeneration has forced Diana to retire from art, but not life. “I have difficulty reading. But I enjoy listening to audio books every day — just before cocktails with Gene.” Smiling, Diana points to a nearby photo of her husband. “Twenty years ago, Gene and I exchanged vows, in the Quaker Tradition, on the beach at 42nd Street in Brant Beach. He is the love of my life.” —Fran Pelham. Photography and artwork courtesy of Diana Woodward
New originals, cards, and prints of all artwork seen in Echoes of LBI are available at Things A Drift in Ship Bottom, NJ, 609.361.1668. Page 16 • Echoes of LBI
"I have to get my hands dirty every day,” exclaimed Marvin Levitt. “My fingers need to be used."
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nd indeed, this is exactly what he has done for most of his 96 years. Today in his Florida home, Levitt layers paste and paper onto wire framework to create near life-sized whimsical people of papier-mâché. Later in the day he paints lush, luminous tropical miniatures that are sold here, on LBI. Van Gogh once commented, "Yellow is capable of charming God,” an influence that is seen, felt, and enjoyed in Levitt's tropical work today. A gifted teacher for 70 years, Levitt integrated visual and interactive art into all levels of education throughout his career. Under Levitt’s tutelage students created 3-dimensional mobiles à la Alexander Calder while learning geometry, studied the life of
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Odysseus from behind a massive papier-mâché Trojan Horse head Levitt created and became neoclassic artists while learning French. Throughout his life, Levitt has combined his rich talent with education, work, and play in Philadelphia and locally since 1957 at the Foundation of Arts and Sciences in Loveladies. Founded in 1948, by Dr. Boris Blai the dean of fine arts of The Tyler School of Art and Architecture at Temple University, as a summer retreat for musicians, artists, and writers, the foundation continues to provide classes for all ages, national exhibits, and entertainment. Levitt, a friend of Blai, became a member of the staff of the Long Beach Island Foundation for Arts and Sciences in 1957 where he continued to teach until retiring in 2011. His large bronze relief King Neptune graces an exterior wall of the foundation’s Marine Science Building. —Carol Freas. Artwork by Marvin Levitt
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I lift my face to the dark cloud, Seeking the rain, And catch the falling drops in my hands. Stormy sky, you paint the heavens in purple, like a bruise. The earth, thirsty and dry, Drinks of your water and blooms. —Maggie O'Neill
Carl Rothchild photo
In seventeen hundred thirty-five, beside the Great Egg Harbor, The thunder roared like cannon shot all round the weathered arbor. And lightning bolts were flashing through the air like silver sabers, As Mother Leeds had bedded down to start her long night’s labor.
It stood on spindly hind legs, akin to a whooping crane. Upon two cloven hooves, it wobbled as it strained. Upon this tottering posture, it glared from side to side, As if to say this circumstance it just could not abide.
Nine months prior she knew her 13th child was on its way; A happenstance of which she’d like to surely wish away. And so, she put a curse upon herself and on the child. She wished it’d be the devil, or something just as wild.
Mother Leeds lay comatose, her body broke and tired. Japhet stood in disbelief, aghast at what he’d sired. So quickly he had grabbed a broom to sweep it out the door, But the Thing began to flap its wings and rose up from the floor.
All through the night she agonized and cried through each contraction. Her husband, Japhet, watched in horror all her pained reactions. And when the hands had both arrived at twelve upon the clock, The devil child sprang from its mother’s womb with such a shock.
It hissed and spat at Japhet Leeds and flew into a rage. Quite an impressive spectacle considering its age. Just then, it spied the fireplace, and dove into the flame, Ascended up the chimney, and out into the rain.
No gender could be recognized with this peculiar offspring. In fact, it seemed to be less human, and more so of a “thing”. Grotesque in all its features, unnatural for sure. An infant, oh so hideous; a monstrous demon spore.
Some have called the wicked cryptid, Hoodle-Doodle Bird. Some have termed it Wozzle Bug, still others more absurd. But if you dare to speak its name and still be on the level, You’ll call it by its rightful title, the loathsome Jersey Devil
Japhet’s mind threw doubt on the distortion of its features, For he could naught conceive of such a vile and garish creature. Its head was shaped just as a dog’s, its face more like a horse. With two small horns that sprouted from a scalp of hair, so coarse.
South Jersey’s never been the same since the Devil sprang to life, Appearing every now and then, causing angst and strife. And even though its legend has borne it several names, Descriptions of its character have always been the same.
The neck was long and slender, and ran into a back Which had protruding from it, two wings, much like a bat. From each side of its torso sprang a wiry, clawed appendage, And from its lower backside, a forking tail extended.
Yes even to this very day, it lives within the pines, And ventures out sporadically to carry out its crimes. So if you wander in the barrens, absorbing nature’s scenes, Retrace your steps, post haste, should you hear its awful screams. —Randy Rush. Artwork by Sara Caruso
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I need to say good bye to you Your glittering sunrises and still afternoons Your dense fragrant evenings on the back porch swing The way the air smelled right before the storm The nights I cried into your mask of bliss and wonder The early morning light above the trees Your relentless mid day heat And cloud bursts of rain and electric fury The tangle of breezes amid the green leaves The colors of the zinnias in pots of dark soil The smell of the earth in my hands The feel of cool sand under my toes Sweet corn and ripe tomatoes Sun drenched meadows and dewy leaves of grass Barefoot gardening beside bird baths spilling Robins waiting Cicadas singing
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Fluttering wings of surprise And pale blue egg shells on the wooden step The moon that whispered hello Now turns sleepily away Sea swells aglow of her light Bless the earth with tidal treasures The nests are now vacant The birds murmur farewell in shadows of grace As the azure sky is left to wonder When will you return Sleep now and rest The earth whispered Tomorrow is one day closer To summers dream —Marilyn Michener DiPaolo. Photography by Andrew Flack
WHEN UPON THE JETTY Bare feet do very well On the black granite boulders Placed here too long ago to tell For a young boy with diminutive shoulders And a mind so interested In the origin of such things. But windward caution must not be thrown, For the footing can be ticklish When stepping on the algae covered stones In search of mussels, crabs and fishes. So each jetty stone must be tested, To avoid ankle casts and slings. I would rummage through the tidal pools That lay amongst the rocks and sands. Without the help of any tools I combed the crevasses with bare hands, Not knowing if a crab there rested, Attentive as it lay in waiting. And all the while my nostrils sensed The salt air mixed with rotting kelp, The familiar fishy seaside stench Which I loved so much. I could not help But breathe in deeply, quite elated To be where the sun was brightly shining. —Randy Rush. Photography by Dick Claffee
TRANQUILITY Sitting on the beach With my eyes closed, Relishing the sun Warming my body and soul, Taking in the sounds of silence And the smell of salt air, Listening to the waves crash And the seagulls calling, Hearing children in the distance Laughing and frolicking, Being in solitary ecstasy Without a care in the world! —Maureen Newman, poem and photography
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t is with a very heavy heart that the Echoes of LBI family must say goodbye to one of our favorite canine contributors: Sophie the Wonder Pug. She always brought a smile to our faces with her colorful wardrobe of costumes. Above are some of our favorites, as well as one of her last, the butterfly. She will forever flutter in our hearts. Photography by her mother, Carole Bradshaw.
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See your furry, feathery, or scaly friends in BEACH PAWS! Submit a high resolution image with the names of your pets, the owner & photographer to echoesoflbi@gmail.com
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hether you are a novice, or have years of experience caring for hermit crabs, here are some facts you may not know about these interesting little creatures.
1. The hermit crabs most commonly found in the pet trade are known as Purple Pincers (Coenobita clypeatus). They originate from the Caribbean and are one of the hardiest hermit species. 2. In the wild, Purple Pincers spend most of their time climbing and borrowing under trees. 3. Despite their name, hermit crabs live in large groups and are very social. This is why it is important to adopt three or more. 4. Hermit crabs communicate by chirping. Their soft high pitch chirps sound like a small frog. Chirping can mean a territorial dispute or that the crab was startled. 5. Purple Pincers have modified gills that allow them to breathe on land. Water stored in their shell creates humidity allowing for the exchange of oxygen. 6. Wild female hermit crabs can hold hundreds of eggs inside their shell until they mature. When the eggs are ready to hatch, she heads to a tidepool or ocean and releases them. 7. Hermit crabs have different odors that can indicate their health. A healthy crab smells like maple syrup. A very slight egg smell could mean your crab will soon molt. If your crab smells like an old boot, it may mean the start of a bacterial infection. 8. Hermit crabs molt their exoskeleton to grow. The average crab molts once a year. Younger smaller crabs may molt multiple times a year, while bigger older crabs, those over ten years old, may molt only once in eighteen months. 9. In captivity, hermit crabs can live up to forty years when kept in the right conditions. In the wild, their life span is usually
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short. Much of a wild hermit’s survival depends on finding the right size empty seashell to protect its soft body from predators. If the shell is too small the hermit crab cannot withdraw far enough into the shell to avoid being eaten. So, hermits instinctually change shells, looking for that perfect fit. 10. Hermits also change their shell as they grow. Some hermits will try on several shells before making a commitment. When selecting new larger shells to offer your hermit crabs, pick those with an aperture, or opening, that is a bit wider than the shell it currently occupies. The best time to offer new shells is around and during a full moon. 11. Humidity and temperature are vital for hermit crab survival. They thrive in temperatures between 70 and 76 degrees with 80% humidity. Monitor your crabs for any signs of temperature stress, such as lethargy or dropping limbs. 12. Never use a sponge to humidify a hermit crab enclosure. A damp or wet sponge is a breeding ground for bacteria that can be deadly to hermit crabs. Instead, use a spray bottle to finely mist the crab enclosure with clean water twice a day. When misting, hold the spray bottle about a foot above the enclosure. 13. Because hermit crabs are nocturnal scavengers, they prefer to be fed at night. In the morning, remove any leftover food and replace their water. 14. Hermit crabs are scavengers by nature and like to pick at their food. Some of their favorite foods are cooked chicken on the bone, ribs, pork, fish, broccoli, apples, mangos, unsalted nuts, corn on the cob, cooked egg served with bits of broken eggshell, and occasionally a little bit of un-greasy pizza. (Yes. Seriously, eggshells and pizza.) Both are good sources of calcium. Once a week, a pinch of sea salt should be added to their food.
15. When about to molt, your hermit crab can appear to be lethargic. Do not panic. Leave it alone for a few days and see what happens. After a molt, the crab will be soft and weak. Offer it water and do not handle it. A hermit crab’s new exoskeleton takes about seven days to harden. Hermit crabs will eat their molted exoskeleton to reabsorb important minerals and help their new exoskeleton grow. 16. It is important to handle your hermit crabs so that they become accustomed to you. When interacting with them for the first time, place the crabs on your completely flattened palm. Any wrinkle may give the crabs something to hold on to, resulting in an accidental pinch. After they get used to be handled, hermits tend to use their big claw less to grip. 17. Hermit crabs do not carry human diseases. As with any pet, it is important, to wash your hands. Before interacting with your hermit crabs or their food it is extremely important to wash your hands thoroughly to remove any trace of sunscreen or insect repellent. 18. Under supervision, hermit crabs enjoy exploring their surrounding indoor environment. LEGO® building, dollhouses, and obstacle courses made from blocks are great exercise and provided enrichment. It is fun to watch them explore. 19. Hermit crabs have tiny stiff hairs on their legs and thorax that help them sense their surroundings. They will touch new food with their antennae to taste it and make sure it is good to eat. 20. Hermit crabs like warm dark spaces to hide. If you lose your crab in your house, check your shoes and under furniture. Hermit crabs make fun and interesting pets that never cease to amaze. With proper care, your hermit crabs can live long happy lives. —Sara Caruso
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ith the summer months comes lots of fun for your furry friends, but also many dangers. Biting insects can be an annoyance for you and your pets. Keep an eye out for ticks and fleas that like to hide in the fur and folds of your dog's skin. Make sure they are up-to-date with their shots and heartworm medication, especially if you live in an area with lots of mosquitoes. Carefully check your dog from nose to tail daily for ticks and insect bites. Monitor any bumps for swelling. Be sure to keep a watchful eye on your dog when he's out in the yard. For his protection always keep him on a a leash when out in public or on the beach. The hot weather can also be the enemy of dogs. Do not leave any pets in the car or outside for too long. Monitor your pets for signs of heat stress and make sure you always carry enough water for both of you, even for a short walk. A child-sized pool is a great way for them to cool off quickly. Remember, breeds with shorter snouts can have have difficulty breathing in warm, humid weather. With these tips, we hope your best friends will have a fun and safe summer!
Mira and her brother, Cameron, spending time with their hermit crabs, Sea Sea, Sue, and Turbo. Meagan Sabbatini photo
Furry one Little friend By my side Till each days end True companion Wise old soul Through the years You’ve made me whole Dearest one Loyal and true
You better my world And see me through All the sadness And all the pain You fill me up With joy again Life’s greatest gift Has been the time We’ve had together Blessed friend of mine —Maggie O'Neill
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NAUTICAL & NATURAL DESIGN • CELEBRATING 47 YEARS ON LONG BEACH ISLAND
Home & Wedding Decor • Original Art • Shells & Shark Teeth • Authentic Sea Glass Artisan Jewelry • Books by Local Authors • Gourmet Foods Customize your living space • Drop by for a consultation 406 Long Beach Blvd. • Ship Bottom, NJ 08008 • 609.361.1668 • thingsadrift.com Follow us @thingsadrift
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ealistic, accurate and instantly understandable — computerized 3-dimensional landscape design plans are the newest and most effective tool available to designers, translating complex concepts into reality and providing a clear and concise picture of the final outdoor living environment. Computerized 3-dimensional design plans instill the homeowner with excitement in the collaborative design process and create a deeper appreciation of the intricacies surrounding the construction and installation process. According to Brian Swank, digital designer at Reynolds Landscaping for the past six Page 42 • Echoes of LBI
years, while 2-dimensional plan designs are effective at establishing a conceptual overview — locating landscape beds, hardscaping and built structures within the property limit — they do not convey the spatial complexities of outdoor living structures. 3-dimensional designs, on the other hand, are easy to interpret and provide a realistic picture of the final appearance of the new outdoor living environment. Hardscaping, landscaping, cabanas, al fresco living spaces, outdoor kitchens, pergolas, and swimming pools can be realistically depicted in the 3-dimensional design incorporating materials such as woods, stone treatments and plant material proposed
specifically to the preferences of the homeowner. Computerized renderings infuse a sense of perspective into the design, its built features as well as its plant material creating an effective tool for communicating design intent and options. Plans can be presented as still snapshots of the property from different perspectives or as a fluid video guiding the client through the proposed designbuilt space from a ground level perspective and a birds-eye view, from interior recesses and out among the landscape. During the client presentation, design elements — their dimensions, height, and orientation — can be easily manipulated
and relocated per client specifications, making all aspects of revisions quick and efficient. Not only effective as a tool for visualization and concept development, 3-dimensional designs have a practical advantage as well aiding in the construction process, simplifying estimating, and adhering to Township regulations. When created with precision and scaled for accuracy, the computerized design can be quickly utilized to quantify square footage totals and material requirements leading to accurate estimation of project budgets. With each design revision, they can be used to quickly measure and verify compliance with Township
zoning regulations. In addition, the 3-dimensional digital design can be transformed into a useful construction schematic providing an effective field tool to aid in the construction process and eliminating any guesswork relating to construction specifications. Brian Swank recalls how 3-dimensional design renderings were used with great success in the development of several recent outdoor living projects designed and installed by Reynolds Landscaping — most notably a lagoon front property in Holgate. “This project featured complex architectural outdoor living elements including an al fresco living space, cabana, serpentine pergola, outdoor kitchen, sunken firepit, and elaborate outdoor shower with intricate wood finishes and natural stone hardscaping and façade work. Through the use of 3-dimensional design software, complex architectural structures and multiple grade changes were presented from multiple perspectives, allowing
the homeowner to effectively visualize the appearance of the proposed outdoor living environment and create a fluid interchange of ideas between client and designer.” Upon completion, this complex and highly personalized installation remained true to the intent of the original 3-dimensional design, resulting in a satisfied client secure in the knowledge that her original aesthetic and functional intention for the site remained intact, void of surprises and misunderstanding. Such are the benefits of the 3-dimensional computerized design — providing an effective visual aide in the representation of complex architectural concepts while at the same time creating a fluid environment for collaboration and innovation and ultimately leading to enhanced project planning and implementation, and customer satisfaction. —Elaine Sisko, Staff Writer at Reynolds Landscaping. Digital renderings by Brian Swank. Photography by John Martinelli
If you are considering a new outdoor living project and would like to learn more about Reynolds Design Services and digital 3-dimensional design renderings, please contact Brian Swank at 609-597-6099 or brian@reyoldslbi.com
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his fall, once again the Wrack Line Sculpture Contest will be held during the annual LBI Sea Glass and Art Festival at Things A Drift in Ship Bottom on October 2nd and 3rd.
In the years since that first Wrack Line Sculpture Contest was introduced on LBI, an increasing number of major museums have mounted exhibits by artists who used recycled materials, incorporating both manmade and natural refuse in their work. Ghana born artist, El Anatsui's large-scale sculptures drape like the richest of silk tapestries, though they are composed of thousands of discarded metal caps from liquor bottles and crumpled bits of metal connected with copper wire; all sourced from trash bins. Organic and manmade debris can be found along the wrack line; the uneven line of comingled shells, seaweed, driftwood, treasure, and trash that runs parallel to the shoreline after the high tide.
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The word “wrack” comes from the Middle Dutch word, wrak meaning “something damaged.” Many items located on the wrack line may be in pieces; others may be found fully intact. Some are deadly to wildlife who comb the beaches looking for food. And though few people may recognize the term, many walk the wrack line, picking up both trash and the ocean’s bounty buried in its midst. Finding these pieces can spark creative inspiration and when made into whimsical art pieces or serious tabletop sculpture take on a new life in time for the October unveiling, the Wrack Line Sculpture Contest. Early morning walks or late afternoon strolls along the wrack line can now be a bit more purposeful, as with each tide both treasure and trash await a new identity. —Cindy Andes. Photography by Sara Caruso
THE WRACK LINE SCULPTURE CONTEST IS BACK! 2021 LBI Sea Glass & Art Festival, October 2 & 3 Things A Drift, 406 Long Beach Blvd., Ship Bottom, NJ 609.361.1668 • thingsadrift.com/events/lbiseaglassfest Collect flotsam and jetsam from the beach and turn it into art! Enter one sculpture made of beach finds, be it human-made trash, natural or a combination. Sculptures must be assembled ahead of time, able to fit on the contest table, stay intact throughout the contest, and be rated G. Sculptures must be made of no less than 75% beach finds and can be held together with anything. Free to enter, all ages and skill levels welcome. Register on October 3rd, between 11AM to 2PM. Judging at 2:30PM. Sculptures must be picked up after the contest. Be inspired by our previous winners at Facebook @lbiseaglassfest More festival events on page 59
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n 2017, as a school project, students from the Friends School in Rancocas, New Jersey released numerous glass bottles containing messages into the Atlantic Ocean at Barnegat Light, New Jersey. Four years and thousands of nautical miles later, one of these bottles made its way to the coast of San Salvador Island in the Bahamas. That bottle containing a message written by one the Friends School students was found by 7-year-old Stasiau who is sailing around the world with his parents Małgorzata and Krzysztof and 4-yearold sister, Ania. About three years ago, this intrepid family of four from Bąków, Poland committed to a life at sea and set sail on a journey around the world in their sailing yacht s/y Rybka. They record their adventures and travels through video, which they post to social media. Małgorzata “Gosia” began sailing as a child. Since then, she has logged thousands of hours at sea as a yacht captain, owner of a sailing school and sailing instructor. She also took part in the Women’s Regatta that sailed around the world. Krzysztof “Krisu”, is a commercial airline pilot. In addition to flying, he is also a teacher and journeyman car mechanic. Based on her knowledge of currents, Gosia believes
the bottle did not traveled directly from Barnegat Light to the Bahamas as there is no direct gulfstream to the islands. Instead, she theorizes that it first drifted all the way to the Azores or the Canary Islands, and then, carried by trade winds, made it to the coast of San Salvador. Stasiau found the bottle at Cockburn Town anchorage where the family was anchored. The Rybicki family plans to spend one more year at sea to complete their journey and bring an amazing voyage to an end. Eventually, they will return to Poland and new adventures. Stasiau and Ania are home schooled at sea. They are keen to connect with the Rancocas Friends School student whose message was in the bottle Stasiau found. The letter was simply signed "Quinn." Unfortunately, Gosia’s efforts have been unsuccessful because the Rancocas Friends School is no longer in operation. Recently, Gosia’s online search let her to contact Echoes of LBI Magazine for assistance after discovering the story about Rancocas Friends School students and their messages in bottles featured in our Summer 2017 issue. Quinn, age 4 at the time, was one of the students featured in the article. If you were a student or faculty of Friends School who participated in the 2017 message in a bottle project, and know how to reach Quinn, please reach out to echoesoflbi@gmail.com. —Susan Spicer-McGarry Page 48 • Echoes of LBI
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obotic technology has transformed the way we live and work. From science fiction, to industry and entertainment, robots are now making a big impact on the delivery of patient care. The recent acquisition of the da Vinci Xi® Surgical System at Hackensack Meridian Southern Ocean Medical Center has expanded its surgical capabilities with the ability to make minimally invasive surgery a standard of care. Patients now have local access to both open and robotic-assisted surgery options. “The da Vinci Xi® Surgical System provides an alternative to open surgery that reduces a patient’s length of stay and lowers the risk of complications and blood loss,” said Jonathan Reich, M.D., chair of surgery at Southern Ocean Medical Center. “This cutting edge, minimally invasive technology is a standard of care that enhances our surgical Page 50 • Echoes of LBI
expertise and attracts the best specialists to provide our patients with an alternative option for high quality surgical care.” The team of experienced surgeons at Southern Ocean Medical Center have been trained in many specialties with the most advanced surgical robot available. Operation of the robotic surgical system occurs from a console behind the patient’s head as the surgeon skillfully controls the four robotic arms that can rotate in practically any position. The surgeon maneuvers the instruments in real time through small incisions in the patient’s body. This enables them to operate with enhanced vision (up to ten times what the human eye can see), dexterity and precision. By using stealth robotic-assisted technology, patients can benefit from smaller incisions associated with minimal scarring, less blood loss, fewer complications, faster recovery,
shorter hospital stays and less need for narcotic pain medicine. The medical center’s leadership, physicians and surgical team are extremely excited about this new addition to the medical center. “With the installation of the da Vinci Xi Surgical System, patients in our community have local access to high-quality, minimally invasive surgical treatment and care,” said Michele Morrison, MPH, BSHA, RN, president and chief hospital executive, Southern Ocean Medical Center. As part of the surgical robot’s introduction
to the medical center, members of the surgical team launched a “Name the Robot'' contest. Team members were asked to submit names that conveyed innovation and compassionate patient care. By a count of votes, the surgical robot was unanimously named “Kitty” to honor the legacy of Susan “Kitty” Kamienski, a devoted surgical equipment tech who was an inspiration to the team. This major investment of more than $2 million at the medical center will be funded through pledge payments made by the four auxiliaries of the Southern Ocean Medical
Center, including the Boosters Auxiliary which operates the hospital gift shop, “The Bird Cage”; the Holly Auxiliary that operates a thrift shop in Waretown under the same name; the Laurel Auxiliary, which operates the “Second Time Around” thrift shop in Tuckerton; and the SOCH Auxiliary; which operates the “Old and New Shop” in Manahawkin. For more information, including additional robotic surgery specialties and locations throughout New Jersey, visit hackensackmeridian.org or for a free physician referral, call 844-464-9355.
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grew up coming to Ship Bottom for the summers; it’s been for the past twenty-five years. I have always loved the water and got into scuba diving about six years ago while I was at college in Florida. Currently, I mate on the Dina Dee II, docked in Barnegat Light, for Captains Gary and Dennis Smith. Recently, I took this 20-pound monkfish or sea devil by speargun while diving the wreck of the Gulf Trader. The wreck sits in ninety feet of water approximately eleven miles northeast of Barnegat Light. Monkfish may not be pretty, but it tastes great! The fillets are firm, thick and light pink in color with the texture and sweet delicate taste of lobster. To cook it, I went simple; pan fried in a cast iron skillet, seasoned with salt, pepper, garlic, and paprika. —Christopher Paone Right: Christopher Paone with his 20 lb. monkfish.
ingredients Monkfish fillets with the exterior gray membrane removed Two tablespoons unsalted butter Two tablespoons coconut oil Sea Salt or Pink Himalayan Salt Fresh cracked pepper One half of a small clove of garlic, peeled and crushed
directions
Pat the fillets dry with a paper towel and season to taste with salt. Place a cast iron skillet over high heat. Add the coconut oil and one tablespoon of butter. Add the fillets to the hot pan and reduce the heat to medium high. Cook on one side until golden brown, approximately five to seven minutes depending on the thickness of the fillets. Turn the fillets over and repeat the process. Note: Do not move the fillets around in the pan. This prevents it from browning nicely and may cause the fillets to break up. When the fish is nicely browned, add the garlic and the rest of the butter and baste it over the fish. Finish with a squeeze of lemon. Remove the fillets from the pan and allow them to rest for two minutes. Season with salt, fresh cracked pepper, and a dash of paprika. Monkfish pairs nicely with just about anything, I served it with sazon rice, fresh string beans, cherry tomatoes, and a few lemon wedges.
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eginning a sea glass collection is not always easy. Time and time again, at sea glass festivals and on social media, I learn of people who have "been searching for years and never found much." Many believe this is because so many people are now searching for sea glass. But I have some tips and tricks that may help you find your first or best piece of sea glass. Start checking the tides. With the internet quite literally at our fingertips, tide charts are now at the ready. The best time to search for sea glass, contrary to widely held belief, is not always at low tide. In my experience, more can be found on the outgoing high tide and vice versa. At these times, the waves are still churning and revealing new finds. Also, watch closely for blowout tides, which occur when west-northwest winds blow water out of a waterway, producing unusually low tides and revealing areas below the normal low tide line. The weather can also influence the chances of finding sea glass. High winds and storms help stir the sea. If possible, get to the beach right before the first low tide after a storm. Once on the beach, do not go to the water's edge first. Instead, check the wrack line, or where the highest waves broke during the storm. Often, treasures are deposited there, and it is an area many hunters do not think about. Sometimes treasures can even be washed to the dunes. If you still have a tough time finding sea glass, then a change of location may be necessary. Some beaches become dead zones for finding sea glass, especially after beach replenishment projects. Researching the history of areas
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along the coast may reveal a new hunting spot. Local libraries, historical societies, and museums are great resources. Many can be accessed online. Old maps are a great resource. Check for sites that had high activity, like hotels, theatres, shipyards, and factories. Also look for locations that have less foot traffic than ocean beaches, such as bays, rivers, creeks, and lakes. Many times, in the past, those beaches were the town landfill, and thus may yield more historical finds. Many social media sea glass groups and online sources can help you find new places to hunt. Sea glass has been known to be the basis for forming friendships all over the world. Understandingly, most sea glass hunters do not divulge the location of their favorite spot, and some sea glass social media sites prohibit members from asking. So, don’t ask for specifics. Instead, ask politely about new locations you plan to visit. This can help you build a travel plan. It is important when asking for help to be courteous and never pushy. Who knows, a new sea glass friend could be right around the corner or on the other side of the world. Finding sea glass takes time, patience, and a little bit of luck. But learning when and where to hunt is key. Don’t become discouraged or think all the sea glass is gone. There may be a new honey hole waiting to be discovered in your own backyard. Tomorrow is a new day; every tide is a new opportunity. Any day spent on the beach is a good one. So, enjoy the hunt. You never know what you might find. —Written and photographed by Sara Caruso
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For the protection and safety of your dog and our patrons, NO DOGS ALLOWED. Service dogs, as recognized under titles II and III of the Americans with Disabilities Act, are always welcome. A dog on a leash can create a tripping hazard that may result in serious injury to your dog and to others. ALL FESTIVAL LONG Handmade genuine sea glass jewelry, original coastal watercolors and artwork, handmade cards, curiosities, and nautical home décor — created by local artists. Sea glass, fossil, and beach find identification. Sea glass and fossil lectures. GUESS THE SEA GLASS All day Saturday & Sunday • Winner announced Sunday at 4PM Guess the number of pieces of genuine sea glass in the big jar. Best guess without going over the actual number wins and takes home the entire jar. SATURDAY • OCTOBER 2 BEST OF THE BEST SEA GLASS CONTEST Registration: 11AM – 3PM • Judging at 3:30PM Contestants may enter a total of two pieces of sea glass or pottery. Entries must be found – not purchased. Winners chosen for Best Found on LBI, Best Found Anywhere Outside LBI, Best of New Jersey, Best Overall of the Day, and the People’s Choice Award. FOSSIL & ARTIFACT CONTEST Registration: 11AM – 1PM • Judging at 1:30PM Contestants may enter one fossil, archeological artifact, or oddity, such as a bone, shark tooth, arrowhead, etc. Entry must be found – not purchased. Winners chosen for First, Second, Third, and Best Overall Find. LECTURE • FOSSILS OF THE NJ COAST 1PM - 1:15PM • Expert, enthusiast and fossil hunter, Derek Yoost will discuss fossils and prehistoric artifacts of the New Jersey coast. There will be a brief Q & A after the lecture. SUNDAY • OCTOBER 3
The Official Annual Sea Glass Holiday BEST OF THE BEST SEA GLASS CONTEST Registration: 11AM – 3PM • Judging at 3:30PM Contestants may enter a total of two pieces of sea glass or pottery. Entries must be found – not purchased. Winners chosen for Best Found on LBI, Best Found Anywhere Outside LBI, Best of New Jersey, Best Overall of the Day, and the People’s Choice Award. WRACK LINE SCULPTURE CONTEST Registration: 11AM – 2PM • Judging at 2:30PM Contestants may enter one original sculpture created from any beach-found flotsam and jetsam. Entries must be rated G, fit on the contest table, and stay intact for the duration of the event. Winners chosen for First, Second, Third, and Best Overall. LECTURE • FOSSILS OF THE NJ COAST 12PM - 12:15PM • Expert, enthusiast and fossil hunter, Derek Yoost will discuss fossils and prehistoric artifacts of the New Jersey coast. There will be a brief Q & A after the lecture. LECTURE • COLORS OF SEA GLASS 3PM - 3:15PM • Local sea glass hunter, artist and writer, Sara Caruso will discuss the origins of sea glass colors, and the science and history behind them. There will be a brief Q & A after the lecture. Contestants must be present at the judging to win. For the security of the entries, contestants must pick up their own entries promptly at the conclusion of the event. Times and events subject to change or cancellation without notice. For more previous winners and event updates follow us @lbiseaglassfest @thingsadrift • @echoesoflbi • thingsadrift.com/events/lbiseaglassfest
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he oceans of the world contain countless beautiful and amazing life forms. To survive, each of these creatures have adapted to the harsh world under the waves. Perhaps, one of the strangest and most delicate of these is the Venus Comb Murex (Murex pectin). A beautiful and predatory marine snail, it is native to the Indian and Pacific Oceans. Averaging six-inches in length, the shell is covered with a hundred or more long thin erect spines giving it a comb-like appearance. They also act as camouflage and serve as protection against predators in more than one way. First, the obvious. The spines are needle sharp and can break off and become lodged in the mouth of any predator that makes the mistake of biting the Murex. Which is the reason a Venus Comb Murex shell with a complete set of unbroken spines is unusual. Second, the spines help to disguise the form of the snail on the ocean floor. Also, the spines aid in preventing the snail from sinking in the sand and mud. Located at the front of the Murex, which actually looks like the “tail end,” is a long extension of the shell called the siphonal canal. It houses a soft tubular part of the snail’s body called a siphon. Water is drawn through the siphon and over the
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gills, providing oxygen to the snail. It also helps the snail to locate food through special chemical receptors. Venus Comb Murexes are ferocious carnivores that dine on smaller mollusks. The snail produces a mucous secretion that softens the surface of the shell of its prey and uses a muscular tongue covered in tiny teeth, called a radula, to bore into the softened shell. The Murex then devours the prey, sucking it up like a milkshake. For thousands of years, the unique appearance of the Venus Comb Murex shell has fascinated humankind. The shell has a long and legendary history among many cultures. For centuries, sailors told stories of mermaids using Murex shell to comb their hair. In ancient as well as modern Japan, the Venus Comb Murex is often hung from a cord in the doorway of a fisherman’s home as a talisman to protect against evil spirits and curses. The sharp spines were believed to pierce any evil trying to enter. In the Victorian Era, the Venus Comb Murex was an expensive and popular gift to give to a lady, perhaps because it was named for Venus, the Roman goddess of love. Today these shells are a must have for the dedicated shell collector, especially those who feel the enchantment of the legends of old and have a passion for the science of the sea. —Sara Caruso
ara Caruso is a local graphic designer, sculptor and beachcomber. Her photographic and design work has been featured in many local periodicals. When not working diligently on a new project, Sara spends her time walking the sprawling beaches of LBI, head down, seeking treasures that have been lost to sea and time. Her collection of beach finds contains sea glass, fossils, artifacts and everything in between. Sara's motto is, "Keep looking down, you never know what you're going to find."
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n her early 20s, Dorothy West Thompson took a job at the newly opened sewing factory on Main Street in Barnegat. There, over the next forty years she built a life using that skill she learned at a tender age — she sewed. Recently, at age 96, Dorothy graciously shared with Echoes of LBI Magazine some of her memories about that time.
“I learned to sew by watching my mother,” muses Dorothy. From the time I was a little girl, I watched her sew on an old treadle machine. She made most of our clothing.” It was upon this skill, passed from mother to daughter, that Dorothy built a life for her family.
“The sewing factory in Barnegat was a very big part of my life. It opened around 1943. In those days it was called The Su-Ann Togs Factory. Moe Ailetcher and his brother, Lou, were the original owners. At first, we made plastic fabric dolls with molded faces. We stuffed the dolls by hand with cotton from big bales that were delivered by truck to the factory. Each doll was dressed Page 64 • Echoes of LBI
in a plastic pinafore with a matching bonnet and had a name tag that said Su-Ann. Later, we also sewed children’s clothing for the Nanette Company. “Joe Krause operated a women’s stocking factory in the same building. During World War II the U.S. government needed nylon to make parachutes for the military,” said Dorothy. “So, there wasn’t any nylon to make stockings. Instead, they had to use wartime substitute products to make them.
It was a time when everyone was still struggling to recover from the Great Depression. Not many people had cars back then,” explains Dorothy. “And not many women drove. Moe Ailetcher had a
station wagon that was used to transport the factory workers. It was driven by Peggy Price from Parkertown. Peggy picked us up and drove us to and from work.” Eventually, Dorothy’s sister-inlaw, Ida West, also worked at the factory. “Starting wages were probably thirty-five cents an hour,” recalls Dorothy. “Wages were low. But working at the factory was a good way for local families to earn extra income. When garment making started, our hourly wage increased to fifty cents.” Dorothy remembers when polyester fabric was first use for clothing. “In the early 1950s we started making women’s clothes from polyester; many pants, tops, and pantsuits were
made there,” said Dorothy nostalgically. “I used a superlock sewing machine in those days.” Around the same time the factory building was enlarged, and the front was made into an outlet store. The name was changed from The Su-Ann Togs Factory to The Barnegat Factory Outlet. A pressing department was also set up where finished garments were pressed, put on hangers, and bagged. Most of the clothing made at the factory was shipped by truck to the New York garment district to be sold. “At the outlet, quality clothing was offered at the lowest possible price,” said Dorothy with pride. “Customers and vacationers, coming to the outlet, could buy clothing for much less than store prices.”
In 1983 the factory closed. “The outlet store stayed open. Some people found work in other factories,” explained Dorothy. “Two former employees, Eli and Lou, opened a factory in Forked River. Eventually, they came back to Barnegat and ran a small sewing operation in the back of the outlet.” The outlet closed in 1990 when the building was converted to a vendors’ mart that was destroyed by a fire in March 1993. In 2000, Community Gardens, a farm market opened on the property. Dorothy retired from The Barnegat Sewing Factory at age sixty-two. Since then, she carefully documented her decades sewing at the factory; her time spent working with thread and fabric. —Diane Stulga, as told by Dorothy West Thompson. Photography courtesy of Dorothy West Thompson Page 66 • Echoes of LBI
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In the first hours of life a remarkable phenomenon occurs in animals, and theoretically humans; they are imprinted with their first memories of life.
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or as long as she can remember Eileen Haas has felt an inborn connection to the sea. With her first breath — salt air filled her lungs — and she was instantly immersed in the sounds of waves and wind, and of gulls overhead; a world of wide skies, deep blue horizons, and soft sand underfoot. She was born in a house by the sea. “My mother, Anna, loved the beach and wanted to deliver her baby in a house by the sea,” said Eileen Haas. “So, they took my older sisters and brothers and moved into my grandparents’ beach house.” The property at 406 Long Beach Boulevard in Ship Bottom had been purchased in 1943 by Eileen’s grandparents, Julius and Ida Mae Haas. There, in October of 1945, just a few hundred yards from the Atlantic Ocean, Anna delivered Eileen and her twin sister, Arlene. Dr. William Dodd and nurse Meriba Walker assisted with the birth of the twins. Using his carpentry skills, Norman Haas built a Ferris wheel in the side yard of their house. It may have been the first Ferris wheel on Long Beach Island. “It was made of wood and hand-operated,” explains Eileen. “[children] took turns riding in the Ferris wheel.” The Haas family lived in Ship Bottom until Eileen was around two and a half years old until tragedy caused the family to return to Philadelphia. After their return to Pennsylvania, the youngest four of the seven Haas children, including the twins, were placed at River Crest, an orphanage in Mont Clare. At age 13, Eileen was placed in foster care. Two years later she was briefly reunited with her sister, Shirley, and their mother. By the time she was seventeen, to finish high school, Eileen moved in with the family of her best friend, Jackie. Later, she lived at the YMCA in downtown Philadelphia for two years. Adversity and misfortune made Eileen’s childhood more difficult than most. And when she could she returned to the sea, where she found strength and renewal in the waves, wind, and sun. “When I lived in Philadelphia my sister, Shirley, and I made frequent trips to the beach in Atlantic City,” recalls Eileen. “We’d spend hours on the beach. The waves washed away my stress and restored my soul.” Perhaps still yearning to be close to the sea, Eileen eventually moved to California where she returned to the beach and the solace of the sea as much as possible. Today, Eileen still lives in California. She has a son and two grandchildren. For Eileen, to be born in a house by the sea, was to be imprinted for life. —Diane Stulga. Photography courtesy of Eileen Haas Note: The house where Eileen was born is a Sears, Roebuck and Co. catalog kit home built by Norman Haas and is now the location of Things A Drift owned by Cheryl Kirby. Nurse Meriba Walker was Cheryl Kirby's aunt.
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n the beginning — the turn of the 20th-century beginning — small communities clustered around train and life-saving stations up and down Long Beach Island. Ship Bottom’s east side between 26th and 28th Streets is unique, as many of these original cozy cottages are still standing along the narrow lanes. Even the 1872 Life-Saving Station is there, converted into a home, at the southwest corner of Union Street and Ship Bottom Avenue. Back then, lifestyles on this resort Island differed markedly from those of a hundred years later. The current expansive homes contrast strongly with the diminutive cottages of earlier vacationers. The tiny homes in Ship Bottom, many still on twenty-fivefoot lots, except where a modern house straddles two lots, are representative of a distant mind-set that all anyone needed at the shore was a place to eat and sleep. It was nature’s wealth and abundance — swimming, boating, fishing, clamming, and crabbing — that people came for. Page 72 • Echoes of LBI
These summer settlers created a cozy neighborhood. Eventually Philadelphia Quakers, among others, built summer homes in the growing community and took advantage of the services the small settlement had to offer, electricity, potable water, and a post office. The earliest cottages were built without plumbing or electricity. Railroad and newspaper promotions were common then. In the 1920s, if you bought a subscription to the Philadelphia Inquirer you could buy a twenty-five-foot lot in Ship Bottom for extraordinarily little money. These small lots allowed for a minute front yard and a rear yard only slightly larger.
tural style, were strongly constructed. Most survived hurricanes and northeasters from 1935 to Superstorm Sandy — and were built with wooden ceilings, wainscoted walls, and wood shingle roofs.
Recently, I wandered up and down these three Ship Bottom blocks to see what had happened in the last fifteen-years. More of the original homes were there than I expected. Other slightly larger cottages, perhaps from the 1930s, dot these streets, and along East 26th Street many homes are newly built or raised up on pilings. The original homes, varying in architec-
The Borough of Ship Bottom bought the 1920s house at 124 East 26th Street, raised it a few feet and fixed it up. The tidy little bungalow serves as the headquarters of the Ship Bottom Beach Patrol.
A typical example of three-room, railroadstyle construction — one room following another — is the “Squeeze In” at 113 East 26th Street. The original 1912 shingled, frame structure, now painted a soft blue with white trim with a blue and white nautical awning, is about 10 feet wide, although it now has a small bumped-out addition to the east.
Union Street intersects 26th and 27th Streets and here, looking toward the ocean, is where the 1898 Coast Guard station
stood until it was demolished in 1950. Two houses on pilings are there now. The house at 15 East 27th Street is quite typical of bungalows built in 1910. It has its original shingles, no additions, and a cinderblock foundation. A remarkable stand of holly grows behind it. A matching cottage, displaying colorful flower boxes and a flag, is on the southeast corner of 27th Street and Long Beach Boulevard. At 119 East 27th Street, a more conventional, colonial-style house was built in 1920. The addition to the rear gives it a saltbox-style appearance. I stopped to talk to a man painting the steps up to his 1922 cottage at 128 East 27th Street. It turned out Mark Magray is the third generation of his family at this house that was built by his Grandfather
Sweeton. Mark was happily painting where he played as a child. Members of his family also own houses on East 27th Street. An architecturally unique home at 135 East 27th Street nestles into the tree covered dunes on the north side of the street. The roof line has a 1930s feel but it is recorded as being built in 1940. Jane Davis, a yearround resident of Brant Beach for more than forty-five years, thinks the house was already there in 1923 when her grandfather, Alfred England, built 111 East 27th Street. Jane says her dad was good friends with the
owner, Morris Clark, who rebuilt it after the 1962 northeaster, and that 27th Street was called “Little Haddonfield’ as so many families were from that New Jersey town. An unusual home sits at 128 East 28th Street. A jewel of a cottage, it was originally a boat that washed ashore. As the story goes, a down-on-his-luck Islander hauled the boat to its present location in 1930 and set up housekeeping. What matter is a little curve to the floor at the back of a house that was once a boat? The dining room was in the wheelhouse. When I first visited this
135 East 27th Street
house part of the prow was hidden in a closet to the left of the dining room arch. Two other houses on East 28th Street are notable: 129 on the north side is very tiny, surrounded with an open yard, and sweetly gussied up. Across the street at 132, there used to be a 1916 cedar shake cottage almost hidden by trees; now the shakes cover a larger, more modern design. The original house might have looked like its neighbor at 128. Back in the 1950s, as real estate values began to escalate and some houses were valued up to $5,000, owners replaced leaking roofs, scrubbed, and refinished the Page 74 • Echoes of LBI
wainscoting, added electricity and heat, and replaced outhouses with indoor plumbing. In 1987, rising real estate values prompted a rush of demolitions. Up and down the Island modern homes were replacing the small cottages. In the late 1980s, I was secretary of the newly formed LBI Historic Preservation Committee, made up of representatives from all the towns on the Island. Our job was to identify homes over fifty-years old and to encourage those homeowners to value the earlier architecture. Today, apart from the Historic District in Beach Haven,
most of those houses are gone. As I walked throughout this Ship Bottom neighborhood in June 2021, a surprising number of the old bungalows are still there. Take a walk, or ride your bike, and let your mind wander back to the town’s beginnings, where our past is linked to our present. —Story and photography courtesy of Margaret Thomas Buchholz
The team of Echoes of LBI Magazine got together for the first time since the lifting of COVID-19 restrictions to enjoy fish tacos at La Bamba in Ship Bottom. Left from the front: Cheryl Kirby, Barbara Duff, Diane Stulga, and Vickie VanDoren. Right from the front: Merry Simmons, Maggie O'Neill, Carol Freas, and Sara Caruso. Absent: Susan Spicer-McGarry Page 76 • Echoes of LBI
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ow do you turn back the tide? That was the question asked by the people of Barnegat Light, Ocean County freeholders, state legislators in Trenton, New Jersey’s representatives and senators in Congress, and the Army Corps of Engineers as World War II loomed on the horizon in the late 1930s. Barnegat City, as the town was called until 1948, had long known the power of the Atlantic and watched its ceaseless but slow march upon the precious sands that were its literal foundation with resigned fear. The culmination of Tuckers Island’s erosion into the sea in the late 1920s and early 1930s , an entire town filled with hotels, cottages, and a lighthouse, was still present in the minds of Islanders considering Barnegat City’s peril. Was Barnegat City destined for the same fate? In the preceding twenty years, the failed planned city developed by Camden investors in the 1800s saw its remnants erased from the face of the earth. The giant Oceanic Hotel was forced into demolition when the ocean ate away right to its foundation. The grand keepers house was similarly torn apart for scrap before the waves could claim it. The favored hunters haunt, the Sunset Hotel, was a burnt ruin that was soon after covered by an equally erosive Barnegat Bay. Three streets, from East 3rd to East 5th, and most of their cottages were wiped off the map never to return. A bustling port that was also home to fishermen and their families for generations became part of the inlet channel and in part forced the construction of today’s docks at 18th Street. Barnegat Lighthouse, though saved from imminent collapse in the late 1920s, still faced constant threat from surging waters on three sides. At one point in the 1930s, Barnegat lighthouse was nearly made an island because of its precarious place on a now worn-down sandy point where the tidal flushing was at its most powerful. Slowly but surely, Barnegat City was being scoured away four times a day as the infamous inlet moved millions upon millions of gallons of water around the town’s shorelines from West 6th Street all the way to East 8th Street.
Something had to be done that would withstand the power of these life-giving and life-taking waters. That something, though, also had to make use of the natural forces at work if it hoped to be a lasting solution. The Army Corps of Engineers assumed responsibility for this epic conundrum. Their engineers came up with a radical plan. They would install rock jetties, as state and local officials had been begging for years. But they would go much further than normal short jetties placed strategically on the beaches to catch sand and build up land. In late 1938, the Army Corps arrived at Barnegat City. Over the next two years, they would erect gigantic metal towers on both sides of the inlet that rivaled the lighthouse. Powerful engines at the feet of these towers operated wires and pullies between them. Using this system, massive boulders trucked up to Barnegat City would be lifted and ferried across on the wires and deposited on the southern tip of Island Beach. The boulders mined at Trap Rock quarries in New Jersey would be met on the other side by a train-mounted crane operating on a long temporary wooden pier that would allow the construction of a 4,200-foot jetty at a cost of $300,000 to stabilize the north side of Barnegat Inlet. This high-wire act was necessary due to the absence of paved roads down Island Beach to the inlet and the lack of a deep-water approach to the shore there that would allow offloading by barge. On the south side of the inlet, a matching jetty would be constructed at an angle from the beach at East 8th Street out to a new 1,000-foot mouth that was intended to guard the inlet channel from further movement or disruption when combined with regular dredging in the future. The jetties, however, dealt with only half of the problem facing beleaguered Barnegat City. The same channel they would manage in the future also had to be re-routed. In 1943, the Army Corps of Engineers accepted a $130,000 bid from Eastern Engineering of Atlantic City for the second
of a spate of complaints from boaters fearful of striking the deadly rocks just under the surface and those boaters who would strike them, putting life and limb in jeopardy. During the war, the south jetty at high tide caught its share of Navy vessels, helping to expedite later fixes. And over the decades, the channel would wind inside the mouth of the inlet southwest near the beaches from East 6th Street all the way up to the lighthouse, at times making for risky swimming by bathers and nervous sailing by captains passing so close to shore.
phase of this two-pronged counterattack against the destructive tides. The Army’s plan was to block the historic channel that snaked its way south behind Barnegat City then turned west, passing between Sunset shoal and High Bar shoal out in the bay. Eastern Engineering moved thousands of tons of sand so that out of the bay rose a nearly two-mile dike closing the gap between Sunset and High Bar shoals. A smaller dike was also built between High Bar shoal and the Island at West 20th Street, cutting off any path for a southern channel behind Barnegat City. The company also dredged a new 19-foot channel from the Inlet that turned northwest after it passed the lighthouse instead of the old turn further south. Taken together, the effect of the jetties and the dike were to force the awesome flushing power of the bay and ocean through Barnegat Inlet away from the town’s fragile and threatened shorelines. It also helped to increase the natural safeguard regulating flooding that inlets provide which in Barnegat Bay’s case was compromised by its unique geography, leading to less emptying than expected. Because of this, Barnegat City suffered chronic flooding and increased erosion thanks to the regularly higher water table. This mammoth effort would prove not to be the end of the threat to Barnegat City, but it
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was a giant leap to the beginning of the end. In the years to come, further jetty and groin construction, along with the eventual re-alignment of the south jetty in the late 1980s, would prove necessary before the tides were truly tamed at Barnegat Inlet. During especially high tides or storms, water would build up in the now closed minibay between Barnegat Light and the dike to the east, causing flooding along the bay from West 6th down to West 20th streets. The oceanfront streets north of East 8th remained under threat as the close shoreline of 1938-39 was effectively fixed in place by the construction of the south jetty, leading to dangerous flooding whenever there was a storm. The outer ends of the jetties, submerged at high tide, would be the cause
If not for the $1,000,000 Barnegat Inlet improvement project between 1938 and 1943, the Barnegat Light of today might look shockingly different, and smaller. As often as history records, the prolonged loss of Barnegat City’s landmarks and the very ground on which it stood was due to bureaucracy, inaction, infighting, and political squabbling between the town, Trenton, and Washington, D.C., sooner or later when the little town first sighted by Henry Hudson in 1609 needed it the most, the stars would align and action would be taken to save the day, albeit usually at the last possible minute. And so, it was. In 1938, after twenty years of desperate appeals and half-measures, at long last, the battle at Barnegat City was joined with the full force of American ingenuity when mankind found a way to turn back the tide and save a town. —Reilly Platten Sharp
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sn’t it a thrill when you learn one of your heroes loved a certain place as much as you —breathed the same sea air and stood on the exact same spot where you now enjoy the view? This happened to me when I learned that baseball’s greatest player, Babe Ruth, spent many happy days hunting and fishing in the woods around Manahawkin and on the marshy salt flats of Barnegat Bay. What’s that you say? The Sultan of Swat slept here? You bet he did! And I couldn’t be happier knowing the Babe and I share something so wonderful as LBI. “It has the perfect climate,” Babe was known to tell the old timers who served as his outfitters and guides on visits to the area in the 1930s and 1940s. Rube Corliss, a legendary Barnegat bayman in his own right, and member of the Carvel Island Gunning Club of Surf City, remembered the large number of ducks they brought in after a day on the bay, or the pheasants they bagged over in West
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Creek by Stafford Forge. “Babe was a good shot,” Rube wrote in his journal in October of 1942. Yankee teammate Lou Gehrig was often at Babe’s side with a gun or fishing pole, as was Johnny Vander Meer, pitcher for the Cincinnati Reds, in addition to local baseball great, Roger “Doc” Cramer. In fact, it was most likely Doc who
introduced Babe to the region. Cramer was born in Beach Haven in 1905 and raised in Manahawkin, hence the origin of Doc Cramer Blvd. In 1929 he broke into the major leagues as an outfielder with Connie Mack’s Philadelphia Athletics, and played
with the “Mackmen” until he was sold to Boston in 1936. In his twenty-years as a major leaguer, Doc collected 2,700 hits, appeared in five All-Star games, and in 1945 led the Detroit Tigers to a World Championship. Naturally, playing on teams that competed against Ruth’s Yankees, Doc and Babe got to know one another, and soon a friendship was forged based on their shared love of the outdoors. After Babe accepted Doc’s invitation to visit him in Manahawkin, he soon became a regular to the region. An incident from 1937 chronicles just how close the men had become. As the story goes, Ruth and Cramer where out on the marshy meadows of Manahawkin Bay hunting ducks when Babe slipped in the mud, inadvertently clogging the barrel of his shotgun. Unaware of the jeopardy he faced, when next Ruth fired, the gun barrel exploded, nearly killing him. When the pair returned to the hunting club, Ruth
presented the gun to Cramer as a token of their friendship, a gift which Doc treasured the rest of his days. Beach Haven was another of Babe’s haunts as he was often known to stay at the Acme Hotel at 529 Dock Road. Owned by the Tueckmantle family from 1925 until 1981 — when it was remodeled and renamed The Ketch — their youngest son, Ernie, remembers Babe sitting on the porch in the early morning waiting for the restaurant to open. “We sold box lunches for fisherman,” Ernie said. “Three sandwiches and pickles cost 65 cents. Six clams on the half shell were a dime. A room cost $1.50 in the ‘20s and into the ‘30s.” Lou Gehrig also stayed at the Acme, as did the actress Clair Booth, of whom it is said caught thirty-seven weakfish in a single day. Page 86 • Echoes of LBI
But it was Babe who always drew the most attention and biggest crowds, for his greatness was on display in everything he did. Ruth was “Ruthian,” a super-human titan with a prodigious appetite for life. Whether it was striking out batters or clobbering a baseball farther than anyone before him, charming presidents or casting a spell with tall tales while eating and drinking without limit, Babe was the larger-than-life personality whose talent and accomplishments surpassed even the most hyperbolic accolades. His sheer energy, it is said, propelled him to these historic feats, allowing him to hardly ever sleep. For three decades he was the daily face of America’s Pastime, and when he retired from the game in 1935, the nation was at a loss. The following year he was the first player voted into the newly minted Baseball Hall of Fame, his twenty-two-year career accounting for 714 home runs and seven
World Series championships. But while Babe was a baseball god, he was only too mortal, succumbing to cancer in 1948 at the age of fifty-one. Today the site of the old Acme Hotel, no longer The Ketch, is home to a popular bar and restaurant, and while the place has surely changed since Ruth’s time, the outline of the original structure can still be seen standing three-stories tall at the center of the renovated complex. With its mansard-style roofline and five small windows on each side, you’ll be gazing up at the very dormers under which the Babe did sleep. That is, if he slept at all. So, stand at the bar some evening and tip your glass to the ghost of the Bambino, knowing full well that his love of Long Beach Island was every bit as great as yours. —Andrew Flack
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back. A flash rush of wind at your and growing of color whizzing by ead. A ah smaller on the road d hind an a smiling ringing bell from be r These are the familia couple side by side. a I, LB on cycling sights and sounds of to the first hard pack ck ba g tin tradition da ment. gravel roads and pave
A
d these machines, The French pioneere ck in the 1860s. These called vélocipède, ba r early contraptions crude — but familia into penny-farthings, evolved in the 1870s antic front wheel tall bicycles with a gig p of the rubberized, and a little seat on to n. ntain of wood or iro crank-operated mou
s for the average Neither variation wa . Just getting onto man, woman, or child e and skill. Falls and the bike took practic the wheels onto headlong gainers over low were common. the hard pavement be . S. Kelley and a A tinkerer named W United States and host of others in the out to revolutionize United Kingdom set the everyday-forthis niche sport into grew up with. everyman toy we all the orientation of Initially they reversed operator facing the the bike, seating the l. Most importantly, smaller steering whee the giant rear wheels later designs shrank and made both the same size, increasing stability, balance, and control. These bicycles in all their variations became known as “safety bicycles,” saving new generations from the headers of old.
itional design was One such early trans by G.W. Pressey the Pony Star bicycle nny-farthing in 1880, a reverse pe of Long Beach model. And in a twist anufactured by Island fate, it was m hine Company in the H.B. Smith Mac . From there, they Smithville, New Jersey veled around the left the factory and tra ce was our own world. One such pla Beach Haven. e fellow in these Like many others, th , taken at Beach undated photographs just to get onto Haven, did his best sign quirk of the the thing. Another de s the use of leather unique Pony Star wa e wheels instead and levers to move th The large wheel of chain and cranks. ted by the rider at the back was opera on rocking metal stepping up and down e large rear wheel levers mounted on th the hang of it, the axle. When one got l hub on each leather spun the whee th each downward side as it unfurled wi rt on a lawn pump like the pull sta around the axle as mower, then recoiled rds again. the lever rocked upwa a short but The Pony Star lived y bicycle design fascinating life. Safet until, in short continued to evolve ycle was born, order, the modern bic s and the shoulders changing childhood er. —Reilly of the boulevard forev Platten Sharp
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very summer, my brothers, sisters, and I loved to go to the Ship's Wheel in Harvey Cedars. It sold a little bit of everything: beach towels, toys, penny candy, ice cream and more. To a child, it was an enchanting place. One of our favorite things to buy, however, was not technically a toy, but just as fascinating to our young minds. Hygroscopic postcards were fuzzy color changing weather forecasters. The fuzzy portion of the card usually covered a specific part of a cute sketch of an animal or place, such as a dolphin or lighthouse. Each card came with a little poem that indicated how the color would change based on the weather. When the skies were fair, the fuzzy portion was blue. However, when the humidity changed, or rain was on its way, it would begin to change to orchid, and
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then into pink. The postcards were meant to be used indoors in a spot with access to the air outside, like a windowsill. Unfortunately if they got wet, they would stay orchid colored forever. The cards were surprisingly accurate, allowing us to impress our parents by knowing that a storm was coming — long before a cloud was in the sky. My brother especially loved to watch as the color changed. Best of all the postcards worked all year long, no matter the season. It's amazing that such a simple postcard could predict the weather so well while also keeping our young minds so entranced. Today, we all have the weather at our fingertips whenever we want thanks to technology. These memories, however, live on in my family's summer dreams forever. —Story and postcards courtesy of Merry Simmons
A Name in the Sand Alone I walked the ocean strand; A pearly shell was in my hand: I stooped and wrote upon the sand My name—the year—the day. As onward from the spot I passed, One lingering look behind I cast; A wave came rolling high and fast, And washed my lines away. And so, methought, ’twill shortly be With every mark on earth from me: A wave of dark oblivion’s sea Will sweep across the place Where I have trod the sandy shore Of time, and been, to be no more, Of me—my day—the name I bore, To leave nor track nor trace. And yet, with Him who counts the sands And holds the waters in his hands, I know a lasting record stands Inscribed against my name, Of all this mortal part has wrought, Of all this thinking soul has thought, And from these fleeting moments caught For glory or for shame. —Hannah Flagg Gould
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his was reported, by those who knew him, to be the favorite poem of Island legend Thomas Bond later in his life. Gould’s melancholy meditation on the meaning of life and legacy could have easily served as his epitaph. Bond’s life was inexorably intertwined with his longgone old hotel, the Long Beach House. But unlike the poem’s conclusion that no track nor trace will remain of one’s legacy when written in the sands of existence, Bond’s has not been so erased from this mortal coil as we have been led to believe. As it did with so many over the centuries, the New Jersey shore enchanted Bond and kept him coming back until he never left again. A Boston-born jeweler living in New York, hunting brought Bond to the Tuckers Beach area of southern Long Beach Island in the 1840s. The haunt for hunters at that time, though, was just a hop north over Old Inlet, which used to cut between Tuckers Beach and Holgate, on the southern tip of the main island — the Philadelphia Company House. In the early 1810s, Joseph Horner, a former manager of one of Tuckers Beach’s oldest hotels, got grand ideas and built a boardinghouse in the middle of what was then a wide stretch of virgin Long Beach Island. Businessmen from Philadelphia, the most frequent guests of the scattered early hotels and boardinghouses dotting the sparse barrier island, saw even more potential
in Horner’s boardinghouse and the wilds surrounding it, bought him out and greatly expanded the structure into a large, modern hotel in 1822. This expansion, along with similar hotels going up in what became Surf City, Barnegat Light and down the coast in Cape May, represented the first seaside resort hotels in the United States. Today’s beach resorts, from Maine to Texas and Washington to California, all owe their existence to these first hotels on Long Beach Island and the investors who saw new profit and new entertainment possibilities in the sand. The Philadelphia Company House, then operated by Lloyd Jones, was the long white hotel standing tall in a green ocean of dune grass, brush, bayberry, and pines that Thomas Bond first laid eyes on when he traveled down Barnegat Bay from New York City to the legendary hunting grounds behind Long Beach Island. Bond soon bought the Philadelphia Company House and all the grounds, including an early life-saving station. His fascination with lifesaving, first established as a government service in 1848 in New Jersey, was captured in Point Pleasant after witnessing heroic efforts to rescue those on a wrecked ship. This led to his assumption of the station’s duties for the next fortyyears. In June 1852, the Philadelphia Company House opened for the season as the new Long Beach House. In the coming years, that name would change again to become known simply as Bond’s. Not just
Year after year, as the shoreline advanced, Bond’s life-saving station was forced to move back several times. To save it once and for all, the station was moved to its current location, now a private home on the bay at the end of West Janet Road.
the hotel, but the entire southern point of Long Beach Island, along with its lifesaving station, which even the government referred to as Bond’s.
invaluable new imagery, has revealed that the site of Bond’s House, notable as one of the first shore hotels in American history, is high and dry, and has always been so.
This reputation and his famous hospitality earned Bond a loyal clientele. Sadly, the march of progress would overwhelm his congeniality and the high regard so many held him in.
The unyielding tide has ravaged the Island over the last two centuries. Nowhere has it been as dramatic as Holgate. The boulevard and narrow line of houses that separate the road from the narrow beach on the other side today was once the middle of the Island in that area. Joseph Horner and the Philadelphia investors looked out upon nearly a mile of rolling green meadows, ponds, and dunes from the windows of the Philadelphia Company House centuries ago. As did Bond when the Company House became the Long Beach House. Horse carts passing over bridges spanning freshwater ponds between the hotel and the beach were once necessary for guests not up to the arduous walk to reach the refreshing waters of the Atlantic so tantalizingly close yet in reality quite a distance from the nearly bayside House. Between 1920 and 1930, that expanse which served as the House’s grand front yard was largely lost.
The emergence of Beach Haven as a planned resort based around two massive hotels, largely in response to the eroding loss of Tuckers Island, sealed the fate of the old and first hotels, like Bond’s Long Beach House. By the early 1880s, Bond’s closed for the season for the last time while the 84-year-old man himself retired from his self-appointed life-saving duties, though the station would carry on. Bond lived out his days in the care of friends and locals, like Joseph Holgate, who made sure he never went without the frugal creature comforts he desired. His death in 1892 was followed by an outpouring of sadness and affection, highlighted by a gregarious wake in Beach Haven toasting his cherished memory. But what of the old hotel? From 1883 to 1909 it sat, splintering, and crumbling away in the Island sun, a quiet retirement not unlike its last and longest owner. At long last, it was broken up and salvaged as a derelict in 1909. It has been written that the very sand upon which the House stood was lost to Old Inlet, re-emerging once again after a storm, not long after its demolition. Fortunately, such beliefs were mistaken. The location of those storied sands had passed into memory and memory had passed into the great abyss, rendering such common knowledge beyond the reach of later generations of Islanders. But new research, making use of previously unavailable maps from the time as well as Page 94 • Echoes of LBI
Though nothing survives of Bond’s storied haunt, save for the dining hall door displayed at the Long Beach Island Historical Museum, the location of the old hotel remains. It has seen the wilds overgrow the site countless times and the ocean washover during the worst storms of the last century, scouring and spreading the sands far and wide. And still, the site endures above the waves. Today, even after the devastation of hurricane Sandy, the area is home to new cottages and a freshly paved boulevard. Spanning the sands from Joan Road on the north, West Janet Road to the south, and across the boulevard to the east, Horner’s dream was carried forward on this hallowed ground by those Philadelphia investors and Lloyd Jones and built with passion into a legacy larger than life by Thomas Bond, the old Boston jeweler. They left us the sands as naked as they were when Joseph Horner first traipsed across the once grand meadows and dreamed of a hotel of his own, setting in motion events that would shape the future of Long Beach Island and American shores from coast to coast. Where Bond once tracked the sandy shore, He has indeed left us track and trace, Of memory — of sandy lore. —Reilly Platten Sharp
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n 1951 Floyd Cranmer built my family a rather ugly modern house for the time on Beach Avenue in Beach Haven. Each bedroom had a breeze from three directions and a push through between the kitchen and dining area. I loved Beach Haven from our first summer.
and freelance magazine writer. The schooner Lucy Evelyn, which had been transformed from a working sailing ship to a gift shop was owned by Betty and Nat Ewer who lived across the street from us. The Ewer’s hosted pirate parties for local kids aboard the Lucy Evelyn, admittance was by wooden ladders up to the deck where Cokes, ginger ale, and pretzels were served. There was a playhouse on the property built by Nat himself for his children. Eighty decades later the Nathaniel T. Ewer playhouse sits on our bay front property, having been played in by generations of kids. A treasure moved twenty-five years ago.
As an adopted, only child, I had the most wonderful freedom. My mother played bridge with her friends on the Essex Avenue beach in Beach Haven using magnetic cards that would not blow away or went to cocktail parties while I participated in the Skippers and Skipperettes Program at the Little Egg Harbor Yacht Club, swam in the ocean with friends, and sailed my sneakbox wherever I wanted. Perhaps most fun was wandering around the town on my Raleigh three-speed English bike. I became curious about the bowling alley: it had been the Fitler Rope Factory during World War II. The local incinerator usually had good finds left around it. What was that dead fish smell coming on a Southwest wind? The Fish
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Factory. My snooping became a lifelong habit of trash picking. Anything old or unexplained stimulated my interest in history, resulting in a career as an author
Who knew Ostendorf ’s Garage in Beach Haven could make money for a young girl who scrounged the empty place procuring old Coke bottles? Formally known as the Beach Haven Garage by its sign, it was mostly deserted in the 1950s except for occasional storage of freight items; but the door was open, and I could ride my bike around inside. I would climb over leftover
junk from car maintenance and trash, finding old Coke bottles. I turned them in at the grocery store on Bay Avenue for a penny or two. The Coke bottles I found were confusing. Some were light green and worth a penny; others, a smoky green, either older or had been bounced around in the 1944 hurricane, looked like beach glass. These were worth two cents. I wonder what they would be worth today. And what other treasures might I have missed that should now be in one of the three Beach Haven museums? Ostendorf’s Garage was started in 1912, the finished building coinciding with the opening of the 1914 Causeway. It was built by Philadelphian, Frederick Ostendorf, a popular restaurateur known for serving rich German food. He was the largest stockholder in the garage project. A foresighted, dapper man, he knew wealthy and influential men were already visiting the Island and would need someplace to store their automobiles besides sandy streets. There was a tidal creek that flowed from Liberty Thorofare almost directly to the back door of Ostendorf ’s Garage. Doug Galloway III told me that children used to sail their sneakboxes up and down there; and ultimately stored their boats at the garage when the cars had departed for the winter. Frederick Ostendorf bought the
Coral Street house “Near Sea” in 1910. He and his wife lived there mostly year-round until he died in 1939. By the 1950s, Ostendorf ’s Garage and “Near Sea” were both in awful condition. To a child, they were spooky, dark, brokenwindowed relics. The garage was so large it echoed. Cars were hoisted to the second floor so mechanics could work underneath them; the first level was mainly used for storage. A layer of sand covered the concrete floor. Leftover rusted tools and equipment could have been mine for the taking. It was stifling and full of greenheads on hot days; cool when it was cloudy and windy.
I never got rich turning in Coke bottles but found enough for ice cream at the Ship Ahoy or a souvenir at Koseff ’s. Beach Haven in the 1950s was pure enjoyment, kids were free to do whatever they wanted without worry. I had a 10 p.m. curfew which seemed fair enough. Ostendorf ’s Garage had failed financially by the time I explored it and was torn down in 1964. “Near Sea” was first restored by the Macy family and remains a pride of the Beach Haven Historic District today. —Story and photography courtesy of Gretchen F. Coyle
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he Lightship Barnegat LV/79 was built by the New York Shipbuilding Company in Camden, New Jersey in 1904. The steel-hulled, 688-ton, steam propelled 130-foot ship was designed with two masts displaying a total of six oil-fueled lanterns, a steam-chime whistle that sounded every twenty seconds, a submarine bell, and later a radio beacon. From 1904 to 1924 the Lightship Barnegat was posted at Five Fathom Bank on the coast of New Jersey near Cape May. Destructive storms and erosion had been the death-knell of the Ol’ Barney lighthouse. In its place an offshore lightship was established in 1927. The Lightship Barnegat was assigned to the newly created Barnegat Station to warn ships of the hazards presented along the coast of New Jersey. During World War II, LV/79 served as an examination vessel — intercepting and inspecting all ships seeking entry into the Delaware River. After the war, the Lightship Barnegat was returned to Barnegat Station. Until her decommissioning in 1967, vessels along the infamous New Jersey coast were guided by Light Vessel 79 – the Lightship Barnegat. Lightships and their crews are the unsung heroes of the coastal sea. Tasked with warning other vessels of impending hazards, lightships rode at anchor through hurricanes and perilous conditions when all other ships sought safety. Considered the most dangerous of assignments, many lightship sailors lost their lives while protecting the lives of others.
Who were the brave men that served aboard the Lightship Barnegat? Recently, after reading The Lightship Barnegat: Steel-Hulled History (Echoes of LBI Magazine — Midsummer Dream Edition, July 2019) Mary McBride Majkut contacted publisher, Cheryl Kirby. Ms. Majkut’s late father, Richard A. McBride of Springfield, Massachusetts served aboard the Lightship Barnegat from June 1949 to September 1951. In 1948, after graduating from Springfield Trade High School, Richard McBride enlisted in the U.S. Navy Reserves. At 17, McBride was under-age; the U.S. Navy required the permission of McBride’s mother for him to enlist. Six months later McBride transferred to the United States Coast Guard. After attending USCG boot camp in Cape May, New Jersey, he was briefly stationed aboard the Androscoggin, an ocean weather station vessel in the North Atlantic after which he was assigned to the Lightship Barnegat. While aboard the Lightship Barnegat McBride was promoted to Ensign. He served his country for four years and was honorably discharged. Page 100 • Echoes of LBI
Throughout his life, McBride radiated the core values of the U.S. Coast Guard; honor, integrity, respect, compassion, devotion, and service to others. He chose a career as a lieutenant with the Springfield Fire Department, holding true to the U.S. Coast Guard’s motto, Semper Paratus, Always Ready. “During his thirtyfive years with the fire department, my dad saw a lot,” said Ms. Majkut. “Making a difference in people’s lives gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.” “He was kind and gentle,” said Ms. Majkut. “[A devoted and loving father] we could always count on my dad.” Upon retirement, McBride studied art at the local college, won a bronze medal in the Senior Olympics for racquetball and volunteered at the Shriner’s Hospital in Springfield. In his final months Richard McBride lived close to the sea, surrounded by loving family and salt air. —Susan Spicer-McGarry The search for those who served aboard the Lightship Barnegat continues. Please contact echoesoflbi@gmail.com
A photograph is a harmonious whole of light, shadow, and line of composition; a realization of the relationship between light, exposure and development that only comes with experience. —The Art of Making Negatives, M.A. Seed, Dry Plate Company
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n this era of digital photography, an estimated 1.8 billion photos are uploaded daily to social media. Even the most basic of cell phone cameras provides the instant preservation of life’s most simple moments as well as important historical events. For 19th century photographers, like Robert F. Engle, the creation of one photographic image was a complex undertaking. And yet, glass plate negatives and their printed images are an essential and established part of historical and cultural documentation. The survival of these fragile negatives, some more than 125 years old, is remarkable. Time, temperature, and human nature are unkind to ephemera. Moreover, many 19th century photographers reused glass plate negatives; dry emulsion images were rouPage 102 • Echoes of LBI
tinely scraped from the glass. The introduction of the gelatin dry plate in 1871 transformed photography. Unlike the preceding wet collodion plate process, dry plates could be developed months after exposure, thus for the photographer, eliminating the burden of transporting the equipment and chemicals required to prepare and develop wet plates in situ, relegating the portable dark room to the past. The choice of supplies and mastery of techniques was integral to create a good negative, and by the turn of the century the mass production of gelatin dry
glass plates had revolutionized the industry. Numerous manufacturers promoted the unique uses and patented formulas of their products. With a plethora of dry plates on the market photographers could only experiment to determine the plates and processes best suited for their work. Others saw experimentation as an opportunity to transform their photography into a new art form to document the world around them. Robert F. Engle’s work reveals his propensity for technical, and artistic license to create his images. Recognized as one of America’s first pictorialists or art photographers his photographs emphasize the beauty of his subject, tonality, and composition rather than the rote documentation of reality. Here, it is seen in the stippled effect in his photograph shot near Pikes Peak, Colorado in contrast to the extreme fine grain, extraordinary detail, and beautiful tonality of his bride Sarah on her wedding day and beautifully illustrated in the very realistic, smooth, clear, almost three-dimensional quality of the main veranda Hotel del Coronado. Engle’s photographs were contact printed; the negative was laid on top of light sensitive paper and exposed to light. In stark contrast to today’s manipulation of digital images, everything Engle wanted to achieve in his printed photograph had to be accomplished on the negative. The negative was the absolute. Involved in that process was a seemingly endless combination of mutually dependent key variables. The exposure time of the plate to the action of light in the camera. The lens and size of diaphragm. The season, time of day, quality and strength of the light, the photographic subject, and the type of glass plate used. All effected the end result. Glass plates coated with a light sensitive emulsion containing microscopic grains of silver were another variable. The light sensitivity or speed of a glass plate was largely determined by the size of the grains. Larger grains produced a softer image with less contrast; smaller grains produced greater contrast and finer detail. Developing glass plate negatives required the skills of a chemist. Different chemicals, and conditions, temperature, and time yielded distinctly different results. All required adjustments for seasonal temperature changes and daily to hourly temperature fluctuations. Maintaining the recommended temperature of 70 degrees
for baths and fixatives was not easily achieved in the 19th century. As owner of the Engleside Hotel in Beach Haven, to maintain the temperature of his chemicals during warm months, Robert Engle had the advantage of using the ice harvested in winter from nearby lakes for the hotel’s summer guests. Throughout this process, Engle utilized the presented variables as creative tools to imbue his glass plate negative with the effect he desired. His negative was his art. Engle’s resulting glass plate negatives embody his life’s-work of artistic experimentation and achievement perfected. Prints taken from his glass plate negatives exhibit exceptional tonal range and fantastic resolution. The images, spanning the mid-19th century through the mid-20th century, illustrate Engle’s extraordinary ability to capture exquisite reality in historical documentation. —Susan Spicer-McGarry Page 104 • Echoes of LBI
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