YOU CAN TAKE THE BOY OUT OF THE TOWN,
BUT YOU CAN’T THE TOWN OUT OF THE BOY
By John Leon
Nostalgia can be a wonderful thing if it’s portrayed in a positive light. Some people may say it’s a wistful remembrance of days gone by, but others prefer to remember “the good old days.” I prefer to look at it like a fond memory and should be shared.
I grew up in a town called Brigantine, NJ and for those who are true South Jerseyans, you all have visited there, know of someone who grew up there or have some memory of what Brigantine was like during the 1950 through the 1980’s. This is the period when I grew up there and it was a time that will forever be etched in my mind.
What brings this all to mind is a fund raiser to be held on a January weekend for a local whose house burned down on Christmas Day of all things. He and his family lost everything, and even though he no longer lived on “The Island”, he’s still one of us. You see, even though people may travel or move to another town, country or planet, once you have the greenhead blood in you, it’s there forever.
The Island, Gilligan’s Island, Land of the Greenheads, whatever you may call it, it’s still Brig and it’s ingrained in all who’ve ever stayed. We grew up knowing there was one way in and one way out of the Island. Unless of course you had a boat. Everyone knew everyone growing up and during the time period there were approximately 4,200 people living there year round, so getting away with anything was tough. By the time you got home there was a beating waiting for you, and that was after you already got one from whoever caught you doing something wrong to begin with.
That’s just the way it was then. Sports were a big part of the landscape with the sections of the town making up who played on what team. There was the North End and the South End with Central School being the dividing line. The Golf Course section in the north was another and you had the far south end. Central School is now the Offices of the City and North School is now North Middle School. In 1971 I was part of North School’s first graduating class that came through.
Holst’ court and the baseball field were popular hangouts with summer league basketball on the famous court in Wally Holst back yard. The only court with lights, the baskets in play and the heavy metal poles that you could use as a pick on an opponent. It always had a slope toward the street and you tried not to hit the pole on your way to the basket. No blood, no foul was the rule, not the exception. Legends played on that court and one time or another such as Chris Ford, Ron Rose, Larry DiGiovanni, Joe Mason, Pete Kerley, Tommy Kissick, Fran DeJohn and many more who I may be forgetting. If you weren’t playing, then you were watching and certainly, it was the place to be.
My house was a remembrance as well as I was growing up. We lived in the rear apartment of Royal Electric on 31st and Revere. There were two hills that grew from the dirt in the back of the house where people used to jump them on bikes. I couldn’t tell you how many people wiped out going too fast or too far after the jump, because there was a fence on the property line next door. If you went too far, you ate the fence or worse. Mr. Pietropola must have repaired that thing a hundred times.
After we played baseball on the lot where the hill was used for a backstop, we could go to the Dairy Queen from across the street and on many nights, that was the highlight of getting to see who was there and running over to hang out.
In the early 80’s softball became such a booming sport that there were 12 teams in town and tournaments that were played on the two different fields. North School and St. Phillips, before the new field was installed with lights. 6PM games at either field were an interesting sight to say the least with all dirt fields and no fences. Hit one between the outfielders and you could run all day. Playing the field was no picnic with the boulders that seemed to multiply every night rising to the surface after being drug and lined for that night’s games. Once the new field at St. Phillips was built, lights and a very reachable fence, made the games even more spectacular. Triple headers, beer specials and tremendous talented play made it a night out for everyone. Out-of-towners were begging to play on the Gem of South Jersey. The stories about those games are legendary
It was such a tight town that the day I got married there were four other weddings THE SAME DAY! One at 1pm, two at four o’clock, one at 5pm and another out of town. Many invitees went from reception to reception so there weren’t too many revelers that didn’t hurt the next day. All were invited and all were accepted, that’s just the way it was.
Now I’m sure that there are other Shore communities with ties that are just as tight, friendships that have endured as long and reunions that go on constantly. I just happen to be talking about my town and it could just as well be any one in the 30 mile radius of Brigantine, but you mention to anyone where you grew up and instantly there’s a little more room at the bar. There’s a little more respect knowing how crazy you may or may not be because of the Island and certainly there are always more than you in the area for backup or to corroborate a story.
If there’s any doubt, just attend the traditional Thanksgiving Day football game between Holy Spirit and Atlantic City High School. 5,000 or more annually attend the game with many Brigantine people catching up with each other. It sometimes is the only time you see one another.
Unfortunately, tragedies, funerals or fundraisers are the other times. Many in my age group have passed either suddenly or gradually. Tragedies bring us together to support our friends, stories are remembered about how we used to be, but there’s always a common thread, The Island.
The town has survived over 100 years of progress, two major hurricanes in 1944 and 1962 (that one I remember) and many of my acquaintances gone, moved or still living there. One thing remains though, even as we all grow older.
You can take the boy out of Brigantine, but you can’t take the Brigantine out of the boy.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
