All photos by Paul Goldfinger, Monday September 7, 2026. 9 am. LABOR DAY. Out of town visitor arrives at the boardwalk, crossing Ocean Avenue. She is a teacher of religious subjects. She loves to have her picture taken–with a happy smile for us. Blogfinger.net
Labor Day morning. 9/7/26. 9 am. Paul admires the boardwalk scenery waiting for the “magic” to appear. This was a quick totally candid shot as she walked by me. I was holding my camera pointing forward; Suddenly she appeared; no viewing; I just clicked the shutter release and didn’t shake the Leica; and hope for the best. Paul at Blogfinger.net. See comment about this camera.
Gorgeous Labor Day morning. Click once to enlarge the OG boardwalk walkers; some biking; some running;
..and doggie makes four. What the hey? Paul Goldfinger family portrait . 9/7/26. Ocean Grove boards.
Beachgoers arrive and negotiate with badge checkers. Fishermen do not need to pay. The rushing of people at this entrance reminds me of the Sunday morning screwball invasions of the beach before the DEP allowed the entrance. Paul Goldfinger photo.
THE LONDON THEATER ORCHESTRA AND CAST. From “La Cage Aux Folles.”
Saturday August 31, 2024. Paul Goldfinger action photo. Click once to enlarge.
Remember this ? ” Snips and snails, and puppy dogs’ tails; That’s what little boys are made of.” according to the old (1820) nursery rhyme.
“The next verse, of course, addresses the parallel question: “What are little girls made of? “Sugar and spice, and everything nice; That’s what little girls are made of.”
Idah has a routine. When she wants to splash in the ocean she and her daughter drive from Bergen County, leaving at 6 am. She takes “back roads” to avoid Parkway tolls. Then when she gets here she jumps into the ocean for a wonderful dunk and then she is ready to drive home.
When she is ready to leave, Idah wraps herself in her large red-white and blue towel to return to her car. It was then that I spotted her on the boards.
Idah is a social worker. She is originally from Kenya, but she has been here for 40 years.
We had a lovely conversation and she readily agreed to a photo. She said that if she knew about the picture she would have worn a more appealing bikini. “But Idah,” I said, “It’s your covering towel that I am most interested in.”
She then wrapped the towel around her, blank side out.
“No Idah…It’s your patriotic side that we prefer.”
We finally got it all squared away. I gave her a Blogfinger card. She will send me her email , and I will send her a photo.
Then she and her daughter jumped into their car preparing to drive home—missing the traffic both ways.
Michelle was visiting Firemen’s Park with Dad and 2 siblings. 9/7/20. Click image to enlarge. Paul Goldfinger portrait. I also sent him photos of all his children. Blogfinger.net
Dad works in OG for one of the town contractors. He was off for the holiday. He came by Firemen’s Park on Labor Day with his 3 children, and they were enjoying the park when I asked Dad if he would like a photo of his daughter Michelle in the white dress. She loved being the center of attention.
By Paul Goldfinger, MD, FACC. Dean of the Blogfinger Off-Shore School of Medicine in Ocean Grove, NJ.
She was a tall thin blond, 22 years old, from Germany. She had long graceful legs and she was a good looker. But she was more than just that; she was an international elite high jumper and she was exhausted. Beside muscle weakness, she had leg cramps and she had passed out a few times.
I admitted her to the internal medicine teaching service at Mt. Sinai Hospital, located on the upper east side of Manhattan, facing Central Park. The year was 1967 and I, a first year medical resident, was struggling to come up with a diagnosis.
She seemed perfectly healthy. Her history was unrevealing, and her physical examination was unremarkable. Doctors like to say “unremarkable” for normal, but she was anything but unremarkable. She denied taking any drugs, being on a crazy diet or vomiting to lose weight. We ran tests on her, and there was only one salient abnormality: her blood potassium level was very low. In other words, she was hypokalemic.
The second year resident, the chief resident, and the attending physician could not figure out the cause of her electrolyte disorder. “Electrolyte” refers to the minerals in the blood such as sodium, potassium, chloride and calcium. We ruled out kidney disease and metabolic problems.
Dr. Solomon Berson, the Chief of the Department of Medicine, said that he would order an experimental serum insulin level from his lab—a test that would eventually win the Nobel Prize in Medicine. But that didn’t help either.
Finally I decided to go back to basics and take another history. It’s like those cop shows when they keep interrogating the suspect until something squeaks out to solve the case. In the 1960’s, a great deal of emphasis was placed on talking to patients, because our testing methods were so primitive compared to today’s.
It seemed that I would have to lower the talking bar for this high jumper. So I tried another detailed history. We discussed her life and her habits. Finally the truth popped out: she was a secret user of thiazide diuretics. It wasn’t clear why she was doing that. She didn’t know that diuretics cause your body to be depleted of potassium. We took away the diuretics, and she was cured.
Next stop was the psychiatry department. Meanwhile I got a case report out of it in the Mt. Sinai Journal of Medicine plus a bit of notoriety at “Sinai” which lasted about two days. It was the first time a published medical report contained a serum insulin level.
History taking is becoming a lost art. Electronic medical records encourage doctors to use checklists and computers, and often the history is obtained by a medical assistant or “physician extender.”
There is an old saying in the profession: “Listen to the patient; he is telling you the diagnosis.” The great Sir William Osler, one of the founders of the Johns Hopkins Hospital, is credited with those words of wisdom.
“Choir Entrance” at the Great Auditorium of Ocean Grove. Painting by Jack Bredin of OG. September 2021. Ted Aanensen calls our attention to “All singers welcome.”
By Paul Goldfinger, M.D. Editor, Blogfinger.net
An Ocean Grove trumpeter named Harry Eichhorn often walked through these doors to create beautiful music.
Another marvelous trumpeter in the Grove is Phillip Smith, formerly of the New York Philharmonic. Phil is a music legend.
We have some fine musicians in Ocean Grove, NJ, and the classical music in The Great Auditorium is legendary.
Thanks to the late Jack Bredin, an OG artist whose eyes and ears were always tuned to the wonders of our town.
“TRUMPET VOLUNTARY” BY JEREMIAH CLARKE with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.
THE HAPPENINGS had the biggest hit with this song in 1966, but the first version in 1959 was by The Tempos, and it is their version that was in American Graffiti. Below are the Happenings because their recording is better.
By Paul Goldfinger, MD Editor Blogfinger.net. Re-post.
In 2017, the CMA announced that it was cutting back on secular programs in the Great Auditorium on Saturday nights. Eventually they stopped all such events in favor of more religious programming.
This was a disappointment to many in town and to many of the tourists who loved to come to Ocean Grove for those events.
We heard from one:
“This is sad. We live in Highlands and enjoyed driving down to Ocean Grove for the concerts. We’d come early to eat, probably Nagles, set up on the lawn and get an ice cream from Day’s during the concert.
I know that residents didn’t appreciate the parking worries on those evenings. Still, this is so sad.”
This Highlander’s remark is of interest because a summer Saturday night in Ocean Grove is not merely a chance to hear Kenny Vance or Neil Sedaka; it is an experience that reflects the lifestyles in our small historic town. It is a nostalgic throwback that makes you feel as if you are in 1950’s America, notwithstanding the Victorian style homes.
You walk around perhaps on the way to the Great Auditorium. You see children chasing a ball, teenagers holding hands, adults on porches with a Martini and few laughs. You hear music, perhaps someone practicing a bagpipe—or stroking a few chords on a guitar; or maybe it’s a chorus of wind-chimes from porches as you pass.
And you feel a sense of calm, of family, of safety and even of happiness. The “ancient” music emanating from the GA is only part of the mosaic.
Also, the summer Saturday nights would provide a setting for having company We would have a Doo Wop party for friends and family. Starting with dinner and chatting on the porch. Then we would all walk over together to the GA for the best in Doo Wops. And walk back home at night through those wonderful glowing Grovarian streets and have dessert. We all still miss it.
And this sort of feeling is not confined to residents of the Grove, as we see from the comment above.
Hopefully the Great Auditorium management understood the concept of an “Ocean Grove vibe” when it made its decision. I guess they were clueless to that.
