We were out of town today, July 14, 2021, for this year’s fish and chips dinner sponsored by the Women’s Auxiliary (one L) We hope some of you got to enjoy this marvelous event replete with fun and fish oils.
For those who never saw it, this 2016 re-post will make you plan to go next year. Note you can also see the 2019 post by searching the search box above.
The article below was from 2017 on Blogfinger when a reader called the Albatross “..just another menace to society.” But rest assured that the recent drug raid on Oct. 9, 2020, on Ocean Pathway was at another address, closer to the ocean—-a tribute to skepticism regarding preconceived notions and stereotypes.
From Samuel Taylor’s poem : Ryme of the Ancient Mariner:
“With my cross-bow, I shot the albatross.
‘Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist.”
But now, in Ocean Grove, Joe Grove has something similar to say about the Albatross, but he is referring to an old hotel on the Ocean Pathway in Ocean Grove, NJ.
“The Albatross has been functioning as vagrant housing. It seems the B and B’s of Ocean Grove have a 10 day stay limit for guests and to circumvent this limitation one simply has to change rooms. The Albatross is apparently applying a 90 day limitation and has basically converted into vagrant housing. The residents from the Whitfield and La Pierre are staying there under contract with a state agency.
“To have a B and B on the Pathway between the Great Auditorium and the boardwalk pavilion operating under this charade is pretty amazing. The integrity of the surrounding area has negatively impacted other residents, and the vagrants in the Albatross have definitely left their mark with cigarette butts and other trash inconsiderately tossed on the streets.
“Hats off to the owner of the Albatross which has become just another menace to society…”
There had been talk that the owner of the Albatross would like to turn it into condominiums, but we don’t know for sure. It had some moments of fame on the HBO series Boardwalk Empire.
As portrayed on HBO–cast as an early 20th century hotel; which it is. Blogfinger photo of the TV showing Boardwalk Empire (HBO).
But why can’t these old hotels succeed as they did in the past? The Manchester Inn seemed successful, but the owner wanted condos….and then it burned down. Single family homes resulted. But others deteriorated like the Whitfield which was demolished and will become single family homes. One recently tried to become a drug rehab center. And yet others have become condominiums with pseudo-Victorian facades and no parking, increased congestion, and no character.
But Neptune’s elected officials should owe their allegiance to the citizens of the “historic district” and not to developers. The ideal should be a historic town that brings comfort and beauty to the residents and the visitors. It should be a place with honesty, light and air. It should attract art, music, children, flowers, teenagers, yard sales, dinner on the porches, bicyclists, film festivals, ice cream, theater, girls in summer clothes, good eateries, diversity, and more….not trash and scum in Wesley Lake, not politicians in the shadows, and not cigarette butts on the ground.
Too bad for the owners, but the dying old hotels should revert to single family homes. Why did the Township bother to write a master plan?
And what will happen to Ocean Grove in the future—maybe it will become like Ocean Grove, Australia, which now bears no resemblance to Osborne’s dream. It’s a surfers’ town now. Maybe that’s OK. Some wouldn’t care if our Grove were to drift away to become something else.
Scene: Friday night, Labor Day weekend, 2017, on our porch in OG. It’s 10 pm and it is dark out. There is an orange streetlight at our corner, and the moon is 3/4 full. But looking west on Mt. Hermon Way (North End) it’s quite dark.
My son Stephen has been walking his dog Poojah in Firemen’s Park when he stops to converse with a young woman who can’t find her car.
She’s been visiting a friend on Lake Avenue in A. Park.
She crosses the bridge to the Grove and finds Stephen. He invites her onto our porch while they discuss her situation. He calls me down.
Stephen said, “Dad, I don’t know the geography around here; can you help?”
She is in her twenties and she is alone. She is petite and pretty and she is calm and confident. She is lucid and oriented, but she doesn’t share her name.
She: “I can’t find my car (smiling.) I parked it over here on a street named White-something.”
Me: (thinking, she must mean Whitefield, one block away). I can tell her where to go, but we are worried about her in the dark. “Can I drive you around to find your car?”
She: “No thanks, just tell me where to walk. You know, I crossed the bridge from here into Asbury because here the parking is free.”
Me: (thinking–I’m glad she is comfortable enough in our town to trust us.)
