The column that says an evening in the emergency room at Jefferson Hospital while missing dinner is not a horrible experience despite the flashing red lights outside because you know you’re safe and the person you brought will be taken care of, and, besides, listening to Pepper Paul review the musical deaths on 2016 on 92.1 FM on the way home was a treat.
By Jack hummel
Radio: 92.1 FM WVLT Saturdays noon to 2 p.m.
U.S. Army: RA13815980
Google all columns at jackhummelblog
Well, we missed another Bridgeton City Council meeting, but the town was still standing as Kim Bell-saved Lincoln devoured his two chicken breasts at 1 a.m. closing Wendy’s and the two extra large decafs with the almond milk were waiting at all-night Dunkin’.
The Elmer emergency room was loaded to the gills, and if you’re not dying, you’ll wait your turn.
But when you have the head of pulmonology, Greg Kane, as your doctor at Jefferson and you know he went to college with Paul Ritter III, you don’t mind crossing the Ben Franklin.
The nurse saving lives last night in Room 40 — Leora — has 37 years of experience, 20 at Jefferson.
She draws blood like Wyatt Earp draws a gun.
But we must not give out too much information for fear of breaking the rules.
The guy behind the desk in the waiting room is a dead ringer for Ricki Harrison, of Pawn Stars.
“In New York, people ask to take my picture with them all the time,” he said while shuffling papers.
All people in an emergency room have cellphones.
The grownups, the kids, the staff …
The angriest man got angry when they told him his backpack was no longer in security, and he yelled, “But it had my shit in it!”
“I looked everywhere,” said Rick Harrison. “I wasn’t in earlier.”
Maybe there really was shit in it, street name for drugs.
He stormed out and we wondered if he would cause somebody else to be rushed to the hospital before the night was over.
At Jefferson, they have wheelchairs with little back wheels. You can’t grab them to go forward. How silly does it look for someone going down a hall pulling themselves by hands on the guardrail.
The parking lot across the street was valet only, unless you have a 130-pound dog in the back seat. Then it becomes park by owner right at the entrance, on the side.
Twelve bucks for five hours, you can’t beat it.
The nurses talk about how they work out hard core.
At Tuesday night’s city council meeting, sent in by Councilwoman Gladys Lugardo-Hemple, holding the rose, with no explanation. Her posse?
“Seniors 4 Life networking is free to all seniors (future and present).”
— Gerritt Kenyon
Wonder if the road in Deerfield is named after him?
When somebody says, “It’s all good,” it’s not really all good, is it?
People don’t have to say that when everything is OK.
It’s when they want you to believe it’s all good, but it isn’t.
“Bridgeton has for years been backwards.”
— Stanley Shapiro
A cut, a tear, a slash, as they once said in Pogo.
Was it backward when we had over 100 Jewish-owned businesses, Stanley?
What could you possibly expect to gain by making a statement like that?
You know, the older he gets, the more Erik Cagle waxes philosopher.
“Mine usually revolve around needing to write up a game story for an event I missed, I don’t have the coach’s phone number, I need to put the section to bed in an hour and I don’t know how to use the pagination system.
“And Jack Hummel is too busy to help.”
— Erik Cagle,
former Bridgeton News sports editor
glue that keeps the Schalick football team together
Sports Hall of Fame starter
possibly part of the reason we had to travel to Jefferson last night
“On today’s AOL website front page:
“Listing of the worst educated areas by all 50 states … #30. Cumberland County, New Jersey.
“Percent of 25-year-olds without a high school diploma: 23.44%
“Percent of 25-year-olds with a bachelor’s degree or higher: 13.8%
“When is Bridgeton going to stop existing on grants and begin to seriously clean up the area for others to want to move in?”
— Dave Hitchner,
We hear the words “clean up” a lot.
Mike Abbott says, “We have to clean up the town” a lot.
And now Dave Hitchner, retired educator, says it.
As a super, Dave, did you channel a lot of the kids who are now part of those same statistics? Were they under your watch. And, if not, if we put you right back in there today, could you change the results?
Because if you can’t, who can?
Jack Horner passed a little after 2 a.m. Tuesday morning.
What a life!
A little history
May 3, 2015
Happy birthday, Jack Horner.
He turned 96 last month and Carol Kirshenbaum of Quack’s Corner responded with balloons and a cake.
“I’ve been donating to her for years,” said Horner. “I told her I wished I could give more. She told me she wished a thousand people would give what I give.”
Horner was sitting around his table with his daughter as the balloons hugged the ceiling.
But who is Jack Horner?
“I grew up in the Roaring ’20s and The Great Depression and the Flirty ’30s,” he laughed. “Born at 1 Myrtle St. My dad worked for the Central Railroad, He made $110 every two weeks, so we weren’t bad off.”
He remembers the family having to move in together.
“That’s how you survived,” he recalled.
“The kids today are a lot smarter, but not as happy as we were. They don’t get a chance to enjoy being a kid.”
Jack’s dad was invited to a tryout by Connie Mack, but his mother didn’t want him to go.
“He needed to work to support the family,” he said.
Horner said he talked to the great Goose Goslin shortly before he died.
“Was your dad Catholic?” Goslin asked Horner.
“No,” Horner replied.
“Then he would have sat the bench,” said Goslin, referring to Connie Mack’s full name, Cornelius McGillicuddy.
Horner gets his dinner brought to him nightly by Shep, a Greenwich icon. His wife cooks it.
“He even turns my bed down,” laughed Jack, always adding, “Who made this bed?”
Horner’s hearing is gone, but his voice is strong and he can relate to you his whole life story.
Horner took out a bowling plaque that reads, “ll in a row.”
“I did that at Pike Lanes in 1982 in a mixed league bowling with my wife,” he recalled. “I left the 10-pin standing in the first frame.”
Then Shep appeared.
Time to eat, make the bed.
Jack Horner and Toto.
A little more history
April 2, 2011
“Since I have met Jack Horner — and I do like the old man a lot — he has told me a lot of history of Bridgeton.
“He is a wealth of knowledge.
“I believe, from talking with him, he could give anyone a run for their money on movie theaters in Bridgeton.
“I have seen pages of info on this subject from him and his friend, Bob Westcott.
“In a few more days, he will be 92, and to look and listen to him, you would never know it.
“There is nothing wrong with his memory or appetite.
“I can assure you of that.
“I can’t get out of Bridgeton without spending a little time with him and learn something new.
“Last night, I took him a big container of homemade vegetable soup made by my daughter.
“He sat down to eat and forgot to get a spoon.
“So, I asked, Jack, what do you want, a spoon or a shovel?
“And he said a shovel would be fine.
“One class act and a real gentleman.
“A walking, talking history lesson.’’
Jack Horner was 97 and perhaps the last living person to watch “The Human Fly” climb the outside of the Cumberland Hotel using only his hands and feet.
We hope his organ CDs flourish.
“In 2017, I will make a better effort to buy American-made products.
“Lately, the Chinese-made crap I have bought sucks. Let’s all make an effort to buy American and keep our money and jobs at home.”
— Joe Fusco
Joe, you taught school here and earned a nice pension, but you moved to Florida to spend it when we need you here.
YOU CAN BOOK IT: All the Bridgeton teaching alumni live in Florida, so what does Florida send us besides terrible sweet corn, and, oh, Dave Price lives everywhere at one time or another?