The column that says we ignore the Dunkin’ Donuts in Millville just to speak to Melissa at the Dunkin’ Donuts in Bridgeton, and it never works out because she probably thinks we’re a dirty old man, and that’s only because she has been talking to somebody like Giuseppe Ungaro, who nicknamed us “The Groper” at the Bridgeton News, but he now says it was in jest, and do you know how many people have been locked up in jest?
By Jack Hummel
Radio: 92.1 FM WVLT Saturdays noon to 2 p.m.
U.S. Army: RA13815980
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We had mandatory sensitivity class at the News, and they brought in a lawyer from New York specializing in that so we would know how much trouble we could get in even kidding around.
Of course, our HR called the meeting in the conference room and sportswriter Giuseppe Ungaro was included in our group.
We don’t remember what the exact was that we asked but it involved long hair and dresses, probably a good guy from the paste-up room innocently stroking the long ponytail of a girl in the newsroom.
We asked the lawyer about that scene and she nixed it. And we said, what about a guy wearing a dress? And because of some earlier kidding around, Giuseppe figured where the conversation was going and both and interrupted at the same time.
Causing the lawyer to ask him, “Do you like to wear dresses?”
And the room exploded in laughter so loud, the publisher could hear it in his office and later called us in to tell us how serious these seminars were. We assured him we knew. It was just how long we got along until the first Millville football game since the 1970s wasn’t covered in person by the News.
That night, the roof came off the building and sports chivalry died, and we died more than you know with it. When the Woodbury conquerers arrived in June 1996, the local baseball boxscores went by the wayside.
“Change is good,” they kept telling us.
Twenty years later, the person saying that has been long gone, the person he worked for has been long gone, the person who tried to put Humpty Dumpty back together again is dead.
The struggle was insurmountable, especially with the economic downturn in 2008. Everybody started laying off, and it has never stopped. When the Mother Ship loses millions two years in a row that we know of, the whole industry was riding on the Titanic.
We were asked by two prominent people to start a local paper, even if only one sheet on both sides and a throwaway, but you have no idea the expenses involved unless you’re running a local business.
Instead, we’re counting on a woman who calls herself “The Thinker,” and calls us a “wackadoodle” to take it all to the next level, both on the Internet and 92.1 FM radio.
Wherever it goes, it will be local, local, local!
Did we say local? Did we say Washington can take care of itself instead of endless debating here that gets us nowhere.
What do feral cats here have to do with Washington?
What does the heroin invasion have to do with D.C. when they haven’t been able to fix it since LBJ was president? They never heard of Cumberland or Salem counties in Washington since Lou Magazzu was a freeholder and the Cumberland Empowerment Zone was created, and then Camden ruined it all.
It was $25 million a year for 10 years! You do the math. Wooden Al Gore ruined it all by losing the election, or we would have had the full $250,000,000.
So screw Washington and every pompous millionaire in Congress! When they care for Michael DeLeon, when they invite Lernell Williams to Washington, when they come to Chandra Pitts in Wilmington with real help instead of worthless awards, we’ll listen again.
Gabby at LongHorn has been waitressing one month and is studying to be a nurse. She is just one of hundreds working their way through college.
Of course, meeting us for the first time, she was puzzled all night, but that’s to be expected. We asked her why she couldn’t run the place since it’s operating on all cylinders.
Know why? The same reason Indians are running all the Dunkin’ Donuts. They are coming from poor living and are sponsored by those of their country who have come before.
They work 12 hours a day, six days a week and they aspire for more, or they go home.
OZKAN AND GASIM AKILLI.
Gasim Akilli aspired to own his own restaurant and found it in an all-night eatery called the Hickory Steak House. All night? In Bridgeton? You crazy? You want mayhem or worse after the bars close?
From 1993 to 1996, we were at the Golden Pigeon every night after the News was put to bed. The only bad night was New Year’s Eve. How did they do it? How were they not in fear of their lives?
How did the night manager wind up with the Golden Dove on Route 13 in Delaware? Gasim took care of him and he also found a partner.
How does this happen and we can’t keep the Bridgetowne, S.R. Riley’s, Angie’s Bridgeton Grill, Tinker’s Seafood open?
How does Bahri Yilmez do it in Hopewell when four others failed in the same building? Not because Hopewell is any richer.
“Foot-long hotdog with real chili at EMS Cafe.”
— Jane Uhland
On Route 49, just past Quinton where Jericho Road starts. The Sunday breakfast buffet is smokin’ hot!
And runs past noon, sleepyhead.
“It’s that time again. Between my back problems and other issues, I’ve decided to hang up the gun belt once and for all. I’m officially retired. I don’t want to be. I’m too young, but God must have other plans for me.
“I just wish I knew what they are!”
— Dan Mourning Sr.
retired from Bridgeton Police
To find help to relieve the stress that police officers are going through on duty without seeking help because it might make them perceived as weak to other officers when, in fact, all are going through the same stress, so, Dan, drive to the state attorney general’s office and sit down with the highest ranking person available and tell him or her and every officer — count ’em — every member of every squad must be examined every year with whatever kind of test the medical gurus have come up with to determine what their health future is.
All these stats will be compiled nationally and we will all find out without a single name being disclosed how serious this problem is.
You see, the last time we checked the stats, the average life span for a retired police officer is seven years, even if they retire after 20 years in their 40s.
That’s not good enough. This is called settling for more, Dan, though it has never entered your mind, but you’re a result of PTSD, are you not, and you have EVERY capability — if not more — of every politician in this state and in this country.
And don’t let them tell you it’s all been done.
YOU CAN BOOK IT: It’s another way of saying “Blue Lives Matter,” Dan, wouldn’t you say?