The Boat Ride on the Good Ship Veritans
As for the first ride which took place on July 12, 1928, details are a bit hazy. Two score and ten years ago, the founders of our group [the Veritans Club] were all energetic, altruistic men, imbued with a desire to better the City of Paterson, assist other charities, dedicating themselves to fostering some day at camp for needy children. I have found their memories were a bit blurred as to Boat ride Number One. However, one thing is crystal clear. The ride was a social success, for on June 11, 1929, when the second sailing to Indian Point was to take place, the newspapers gave the event prominence.
During October 1929, when the stock market crashed, individual members sustained substantial personal financial losses, but this did not deter them from making the 1930 ride a memorable one.
In 1930, the attendance and profits were more than doubled and herein lies the ingenuity and greatness of our members. They reduced the price of tickets but inaugurated a raffle sale. At the same time, many aboard realized that they had a captive audience. Politicians and political hopefuls came to be seen, to shake hands, or because they were genuinely fond of the Veritans and its charitable endeavors. Then, too, card playing, regardless of your preference of game, was the popular manner to pass your time. This was done in an atmosphere of complete freedom of attire, from telephone or troubles, and usually in the company of the same group with whom you played at least once a week at home.
The ride was also a time to do business, for many a transaction was consummated. Many enjoyed the scenery and discussed politics and world affairs. Actually, of all aboard, probably a bit less than half indulged in gaming. The rest rested, roamed around to greet friends and chit-chat. But woe to the member who tried to take it easy! This renegade was considered an outlaw and won the sneers and jeers of his fellow members.
In actuality, during the glory days of Paterson, the day of the ride was a quasi-holiday. Many a city office, bank, and court worked with a skeleton crew. Paterson City Hall was half empty as were most of the county offices. As a matter of fact, a few establishments honored their most productive employees with the day off and a boat ride ticket.
This scribe also mentioned the innovation of raffle tickets when the depression hit. Today [1976], a raffle ticket carries the happy sum of $5, but at the beginning they were three-for-a-quarter. The cost of raffles and tickets rode the crest of the waves, according to the ups and downs of the financial world. When things leveled off, $25 per ticket and $1 per raffle held sway for the longest period.
Traditionally, on the day of the ride, the breakfast committee started at 5 am to prepare for the self-service breakfast. A little after 8 a.m., the guests started to arrive. The ticket-takers collected tickets and used a mechanical punch, attesting to their validity. Men registered, establishing their eligibility for the door prizes, with members not being eligible. Breakfast started upon boarding, at 8:45 am and was chomped on in anything-but-gourmet fashion, until 11 am. At 11:05 am, lunch was served. One or the other of our local kosher delicatessens catered.
We visited a number of places, but Bear Mountain Inn and its environs was the most popular. The inveterate card players found a natural haven, the imbibers found a den for drinking, the walkers walked, the philosophers debated, and the dicers shot. Then, too, if weather permitted, the swimmers cavorted and the tennis players found or improvised courts. There was always a softball game between the arthritic Veritans team and some home-for-the-aged gang. Horseshoe pitching has always been a popular endeavor with more than 100 participating, with a like number of arguments.
Occasionally, entertainers of note would give forth as hundreds sat on the grass. Paterson’s own Lou Costello stopped in to tell us who was on first. Lou Saxon, another local comedian, and Rocky Graziano performed in their own inimitable way. Buddy Hackett, Red Buttons, Morey Amsterdam, plus many whose names slip past my brain cells, were constantly on stage. But the piece-de-resistance was and still remains the so-called athletic events: the find-your-shoes contest, the three-legged sack race, and the pie-eating and watermelon-eating competitions.
By this time, three whole hours have elapsed since solids have entered our gullets. The thundering horde rushed toward the mess-hall where a full-course dinner is in the offing. Ordinarily, we heard the toot-toot to come aboard by for the 6:30 pm homeward-bound cruise. And so, once the sun gently set in the west, we fondly bade farewell to our port of call, and food was served. Whether it was Chef Mandiberg from the Chez Rue de Graham or Cocinero Friedman from the Casa de Avenida Diez, fat, juicy hot dogs started to roll out in savory buns. Naturally, the club’s dietician, who earned his degree listening to a garbled lecture presented by Jackie Gleason, delicately served the demitasse until we docked.
This piece contains excerpts from 1926-1976 the First Fifty Years…Veritans Club, a book available in our archives. Phase Two describes the changes in the event, which became a bus ride to the Poconos or Catskills. The goal remained the same, to raise funds for Camp Veritans. The final chapter of the book includes observations about the establishment of the camp.
