2013.007.

Friends of the Hoboken Public Library

Gift

Gift of the Friends of the Hoboken Public Library.

2012 - 2012

Date(s) Created: 2012 Date(s): 2012

Notes: Archives 2013.007.0001 "VANISHING HOBOKEN"- THE FRIENDS OF THE HOBOKEN PUBLIC LIBRARY AND THE HOBOKEN HISTORICAL MUSEUM ORAL HISTORY PROJECT INTERVIEWEE: SAM SCIANCALEPORE INTERVIEWER: RUTH CHARNES DATE: 22 JUNE 2012 FILE: Sciancalepore1.WMA RC: Sam, thank you so much, first of all, for being here. SS: You're welcome. RC: Let's start even before your beginning with a little information about your parents, where they're from, etc. SS: My parents came from Molfetta, Italy. [Door opens and Sam's son Stephen comes in.] Uh oh, the boss is here. STEPHEN SCIANCALEPORE: Hey, Ruth. How are you. RC: Hi, Steve. SS: We settled in Hoboken, 303 First Street. RC: Before you go on: Were you born in Molfetta, and you came here...? SS: Yes, at the age of 7. RC: OK! May I ask the date? SS: You want the date? RC: When were you 7, in other words, when did you come here? SS: I don't remember. [Transcriber's note: Later, he says they came here in 1927.] RC: OK. When you were 7. SS: I was 7. RC: OK. And did you come to Hoboken first? SS: Straight to Hoboken. RC: Straight to Hoboken, OK. SS: And when we came from New York, that's a time when we didn't have to go through the island anymore. We just... they checked... RC: Landed in New York City? SS: In New York City by boat. And the name of the boat was Rex, which was sunk during the war, whatever. [Transcriber's note: The SS Rex was an Italian ocean liner launched in 1931. On September 8, 1944, it was bombed by R.A.F. aircraft and sunk.] But anyway, we went directly to a ferry-the 42nd Street ferry-packed up all our baggage, and we came to Hoboken. And I thought I was in a different world, actually traveling on water, which I never did. But, at Hoboken, that's where the rest of the people from Molfetta landed. So we were pretty happy about that. We made a lot of friends, and we knew a lot people. RC: So your family knew people here even before you arrived. SS: Right. It was like "old home week." Everybody got together. And it was very nice. I immediately went to school, not knowing how to speak English. But, at that age, you learn... RC: Quickly. SS: Quickly. And it was a lot of fun. I made out with people. We got friends with a lot of young boys from the neighborhood. All different nationalities: Irish, Italians, Jewish. Everybody got along, no problem. RC: I've heard that. Did you have any brothers or sisters when you came or after? SS: When I came I had one brother and I had one sister here, from Italy. But then one was born here. My mother thought it was a tumor! [Laughs.] Next thing I hear, I hear a baby crying in the next room. That was the tumor. RC: That was the tumor. OK. SS: And I'm sorry they're both gone, both my sisters gone. But my brother's still around. He's 88 years old right now. And I tell you, he's in better shape than I am. I'm 83, and he's still in better shape than I am. But we had a nice family. No animosity, a lot of nice people. We ate in each other's homes. My brother got a job downstairs in a Jewish grocery, no, candy store, we called it in those days. And he got older and he got himself a better job, and I wind up going there. RC: That's where you apprenticed first. SS: Three dollars a week. RC: Three dollars a week. Full time or...? SS: After school. RC: After school. OK. SS: Pay no taxes. But he was a wonderful man, he was a Jewish fella, wonderful man. RC: Do you remember the name of the shop? SS: Cheap Sam. RC: Cheap Sam. OK. SS: My true name is Sergio. That's my true name; everybody called me Sam. So I worked there, and got older. Started working across the street was a grocery store, what the heck was it? Oh god. And I started working there as a delivery boy. RC: Was this after high school or while you were still in school? SS: Still in school. RC: Still in school. SS: I went to Number Five School, which is between First and Second Street on Clinton Street. That's where the medical building is there now. Is that a medical building? Yeah. That was the school. Number Five School. We had no walls. We had slide walls. That's how they separated the classes. RC: Was it built as a school, but, divided... SS: Yeah, it was built as a school, but divided with walls. When we had an assembly, all the walls opened up and we all got together. And it did the job. Very nice. RC: Do you have any remembrance of how big classes were, how many kids were in school with you? SS; It couldn't be no more than 15 or 20. RC: Really. So it wasn't huge classes like we have nowadays. SS: No. But everybody went there to learn. Teachers made sure you learned. Those days they were allowed to whack you. Hell yeah. RC: With a ruler, or just...? SS: With a ruler. On your hands. It hurt. RC: It hurt-I'll bet! SS: But, we learned. We learned. And my brother went there before me. And the teacher that taught him, saw me. He got me in the corner of the room, he gave me a few whacks, he says, "If you're anything like your brother, you're going to get some more." But anyway! RC: And did you? SS: No. I was afraid! He was a good man, he was a good man. They taught us. They taught me everything I know. And that was it. What happened? Then I went to high school. Brandt School, over here. And I started, I think the 8th or 9th grade, I forget. The problem was, I had to work. I went to school only in the morning, and I played hooky in the afternoon. RC: In order to work? SS: In order to work. I loved to work. We used to give all the money to our families. My father was only making $25 a week. RC: What did he do? SS: He was a maintenance man in New York City. But, I played hooky, and I went to work as a butcher on 5th and Madison Street. And the principal found out, Mr. Stover, I'll never forget his name, and he found out and he says, Sergio, he says, you know, he says, I'm going to have to, what'd he say, when they let you off for about three months. RC: Suspend you? SS: Suspend you for three months. He said, because you did this, you did that. And I was old enough to quit. I said, I'm sorry, so I'm going to quit, I'm going to go to work, I need the money, and this and that. And he says, I'm a foolish man for doing that, because... But, anyway. I did that. And I became a butcher for a long time. The war started. And butchers were making a ton of money. Because meat was scarce, but they had food stamps, and the old story. But, my father said, No, you've got to quit that, you'll make more money than me. This is all lie! He says, you've got to become a plumber, I have a friend of mine... The difference between the money I was making, and the getting $20 a week. And I had a little car, which I'd ride around with. But, that was it. Then I got drafted. RC: How did you feel about, before we get to that, how did you feel about-beside the money-how did you feel about switching careers? SS: I had no feeling about it. RC: It was OK with you? SS: I just did what I had to do. I never found any reason to, as long as I had work, I loved to work. And so, he put me as a plumber. RC: Who did you apprentice with? SS: Rotondella Brothers, on First Street. RC: They're still around? SS: No, they're gone now, both of them have died. But, they were tough people. Oh, tough. But, you had to really work. It's not like today. Everything was hard work. But I learned a lot. And then I got drafted. RC: What year did you get drafted? SS: I'm sorry? RC: What year? SS: Uh, had to be... '52. RC: Was this Korean War? SS: Korean War. But I didn't go to Korea. I was shipped to Germany, thank God. RC: Thank God, that's right. SS: But, I went to Germany, and I learned a lot. I learned a lot in the service. The best thing that ever happened to me. RC: In what way? SS; In what way? Learning, schooling. They sent me to schools. And I came out with a commission. Not commissioned officer. But, we did very well. I made trips to different countries on the U.S. government. RC: Where did you go? SS: Back to Italy. I went to France.... RC: Did you visit family? SS: Ooh yeah, I visited family. As a matter of fact, when I went there, they thought I was a millionaire! And then my aunt had to be there. And they said, maybe you could send... we would send clothes to them. And I said, you know, I'm going to do something nice for you. I lied a lot! I'm going to send them-a car. They said, you could do that? Sure, I could do anything. I told them, What color do you want? They said, any color! No, you've got to give me the color. I would tease the heck out of them. Anyway. RC: And did you ever send the car? SS: Of course not! [laughs] RC: It was a good story. SS: But anyway. I came back. Got discharged. RC: What year was that, do you remember? SS: I would say about '54, something like that. I went to back to the butcher shop, and he said, look, the supermarkets came, I can't compete. He worked alone. As a matter of fact, his name was Finizio, Henry Finizio. I worked for his wife for years. So, I went back to plumbing. Rotondella. I worked very hard, and I got married. I took a trip to Canada; I met my wife. RC: She's Canadian? SS: She's Canadian. Ended up... 56 years. RC: Congratulations. SS: She's a good woman. Best. Without her, I'd never make it. [laughs] RC: Well, I know you have one son, Steve. Do you have other children as well? SS: He's the worst one. RC: Well, we don't have to decide that now. SS: No, later. [laughs] RC: But does he have any brothers or sisters? SS: But anyway. We got married and we lived in... eight-twenty... 826? 828? STEPHEN SCIANCALEPORE: What are you talking about? RC: Where you first lived. STEPHEN SCIANCALEPORE: I think it was at 829. SS: 829 Garden Street. RC: 829 Garden, OK. SS: As a matter of fact, they just renovated. RC: Was this one floor of a brownstone? SS: No, this was four floors. RC: Four floors of a brownstone. SS: And we stayed there for a few years. And then I went in business. And, I'm not going to tell you, it was very hard, not just myself, my wife, she had the baby... RC: What is her name? SS: Mary. And we had a good time. We worked very hard. We were at 920 Washington Street, my first shop. The landlord, a Greek man, very nice man. And his grandson now has got the computer shop there right now. So, anyway, from there, business was picking up and we moved out of Hoboken. Moved to Palisades Park. Very nice, friends there, we always managed to have a good time wherever we move. And from there, I moved here, bought this building. Wanted a place where I could park the trucks in back. I've been here ever since. RC: When did you move to this building? Do you remember? SS: I don't remember. RC: One other question about the business. I assume you're the "S" of S&B. Who is the "B"? SS: I took a partner. My nephew, Binetti, B, he's my nephew, my sister's son. See, I'm glad you're asking me these questions, because I forget. And we stayed together for a couple of years, when he decided he wanted to be by himself. I said, no problem. And we had a lot of real estate. He took the real estate and I stayed with the S&B. Anyway, he lost the real estate. But he moved to Holmdel and he's doing very well. He's doing beautifully. We are very close, very close family. We visit each other, and he went out there for quite a few years. And as a matter of fact his brother, my other nephew, has a business here also, Binetti Plumbing. RC: I've heard of Binetti Plumbing, I didn't realize that was your family as well. SS: That's my nephew, my sister's boy. RC: Do you fight for jobs? SS: No, we never have to fight. We always manage to get work. You know? I can't understand why some people complain. We always have work. Let's see, I can't remember anything else. RC: Well, I'd like to ask you about some about your early jobs, especially in Hoboken. I've heard some interesting stories about people who wanted to pay you with perhaps not the usual cash. SS: Oh yes.Angione.Nice people, wonderful. And we became very close. And then he called me one day to fix a faucet or whatever it is. After I was done, he says, I'm gonna give you something, don't tell anybody, you're gonna be happy to get it. She comes over with a bag of tomatoes. She says, "Don't tell anybody." RC: Now was this instead of another payment in cash, or just a bonus? SS: No. They would pay. At times, they'd always complain it was too much money. And I would take it off. "OK, you'll take this off..." That's how you get away with it. I'm Italian, I know how they operate. But very nice people. People I dealt with, very nice. Very few hotheads or whatever. I don't know, somehow I just got along with everybody. RC: I think that's you, frankly! SS: Actually, all these years, to me, it was a lot of fun. I can't remember everything. All the tradesmen, we would meet at the diner, I think it was 5th or 6th Street, Washington Street, it was a Greek diner there, it's not there anymore, we'd all have breakfast with the gang and all. I knew a lot of older people out there, restauranteurs that I'd done work for. Schaefer, I don't know if you remember Schaefer. Wonderful man. We did all his work. I tell you, he was a top-notch man. RC: I would assume that working here in the 50s especially was very different from what you're doing now. SS: Very different. RC: Can you talk about that: more the types of job you used to do versus what you're doing now? SS: Basically the same thing, except, everything was harder. Heavy pipes, heavy cast-iron... now everything's PVC, copper. Now you have phones to contact each other, then you didn't. Now every man's got a phone. It was harder, and you worked later hours. Time runs so fast, but, they were good times. Maybe I don't remember the hard times, I don't know. RC: It's a good thing sometimes. But I think times were hard in Hoboken, especially in the 50s, and I'm wondering if people, you know, really struggled.... SS: If they were hard, it didn't bother me. Like I was telling you, everything in those days, trolley cars, garbage wagons, horse and wagons.... We used to put our water-main pipes in the streets, now there are machines-there was one man, Italian man, he had to be 80s, he would do the digging on the street, mind you, a little guy, and you give him a hundred, two hundred dollars for the job, and he would dig it up. You don't get anybody to do that anymore. It was different, we never used machines to dig up the streets, we do everything manually. The sewers. And I did it, as a helper, I did it. It was different. When I was young, we used to hop on the trolley cars to go up to 14th Street. Never paid for it; hop on the side and just take off. I'm trying to think of other things. The streets all had railroad tracks on them. RC: For the trolleys. SS: And Hudson Street had-there were trains on Hudson Street. You would not know what Hudson Street looked like. RC: I've seen pictures, even in the early 70s it was incredibly different. SS: It was different. One time, one bad thing happened. We had trolleys going from Hoboken to Jersey City. I forget what you call them-it was a trolley. What do you call it-over, like, a bridge. RC: Oh, the viaduct? There was a viaduct, I know, at one end. SS: There was a viaduct. But there was a trolley car going from Hoboken, from the Tubes to Jersey City. And we moved to Jersey City, my father, after a while, he bought a house. But I still came to Hoboken to work. And I worked for Rotondella. On cold days, it would freeze. It's not like today. We had to go in the cellar, to snake out a sewer, not knowing that the cellar had filled full of water, and there was ice on top. The boss said, Sam, go in there, look for the [unintelligible], so we can clean it out. So what happened, I'm crawling in there, and I pop right in all this... guck. RC: To put it politely! SS: To put it politely. So he says, well, you better go home and change. I come back, I says, how am I going to get home? He says, take the trolley. I say, the trolley? He says, yeah. He wouldn't take me in the car; I smelled too bad. I tell you, I had it all to myself! RC: True luxury! SS: My mother, father took a look at me, say, what happened to you? They wouldn't even come near me. [laughs] That's one of the instances. RC: So did you change and go back on the job? SS: Yeah, I went back, he says to me, he says, we finally got it cleaned out. So who went there? One of the guys put boots on, whatever, he finally got it. But that's what it was. That was right on Willow Avenue. I know every house there, but every house has changed. We did work on almost every house. It was the nice part, is meeting the people that do the jobs. And I found out the nicer you are to people, the nicer they are to you. RC: Do you think that's still true? The population has, I think, changed so.... SS: I don't think we have any problems. Joann, do we have any problems with customers? JOANN PORTA: Not really. Every once in a while, but, you know, it usually works itself out. RC: You don't think people are fussier or more particular? SS: But that's my son's department. RC: Steve. SS: He's from the newer generation. Computer, this and that. Me, I'm from the old generation. I look at a computer, I walk away from it. I don't know what to do with it. RC: I think, not only that. I heard a neighbor of mine, I would say newcomer, even to me, complaining to, I guess, a friend this morning on the sidewalk about someone who was doing work for him. And I thought, you know, if I worked for this person, I probably would've punched him a long time ago. SS: Well, we do get people like that. Somehow we get around it. RC: You get along. SS: My son is better than I am. He's got... RC: An even temperament? SS: He's better than I am. Sometimes I blow my stack. But, you know, one guy told me, he says, never get mad at people. You get mad at them, just... be happy, and don't hold a grudge. And we try to do that. Really, now that I'm talking to you, and I'm thinking about all these things: I had a pretty good life. You know? It's very good. And Hoboken, it's a nice town. Because no matter where you go, you meet someone from Hoboken. You go to China, you meet somebody from Hoboken. We go to Florida last year, talking to the guy helping us with the baggage. He says, let me help these old people! He says, where you from? He says he's from Jersey City. He says, oh, where are you, oh, Hoboken. I lived in Hoboken, but then I moved.... Hoboken always comes up. RC: It does seem for a relatively small town that that happens a lot. SS: Years ago, people would hold their noses, say: You live in Hoboken? RC: I've heard that too. Not anymore. SS: Not anymore. Now, you say you live in Hoboken: Wow. It's nice that I know so many people. The sad part is, a lot of them are passing away, you know? I knew a lot of good friends, good friends that I had that are gone. When I was young and I worked in the butcher shop, we had a clubhouse, and there were a bunch of people there who got robbed by people from New York, two guys. RC: People from New York came here to rob you? SS: Well, to rob, not from me... RC: I mean, rob the group. SS: We happened to be in there. RC: What happened? SS: We came out! RC: A real stick-up? SS: Real stick-up. But, they were very nice. RC: That's the old days for you! SS: I asked them for my wallet back. He said, I can't, I'm not allowed. I said, I got my license... He said, I'm sorry. I said, OK, what are you gonna do? It was strange, it was a lot of fun. I don't know what else to say, you gotta ask me some more questions. There's so much that happened, that I can't remember everything. RC: Well, one thing that struck me when we tried to get together yesterday: You were busy on a water-main break. So you're still very involved... SS: Oh yeah, I come in the morning. But, comes the afternoon, I get tired, I go home. And, I tell you the truth, I want to help my son out-sometimes he gets stuck, he needs a hand-I think he still has me as an errand boy to go around, checking... RC: Or bad cop, I'm sure bad cop. SS: He'll say, OK, Dad, let's go take a look at this job, see what it's all about. RC: So you're still on the job, in effect. SS: I've been blessed with wonderful children, and especially Steve. He's a good boy. The best. RC: And I assume he will be keeping S&B going into the future? SS: I think so. Everybody took a liking to him. He's a very nice guy. RC: Any other children? And if so, are they in Hoboken? SS: My granddaughter, she's 27 years old, she just moved out of upstairs, she wanted to come to live in Hoboken. The worst thing I ever did! RC: Should I ask why? SS: Why? Because I'm her grandfather! RC: Not that she was a fussy tenant. SS: Oh, the worst, the worst! [Laughs] RC: The worst-coming from you, I'm sure! SS: But, she moved out. She's moving out, and she found a boyfriend in Pennsylvania, so I think she's going to move out there. And my other granddaughter-as a matter of fact, they're all graduating. This one graduated yesterday, last night. Steve's son graduated a couple of days ago. And tonight we're going to another one, Erica, my other granddaughter, to her graduation. So, in one week we're going to three graduations. RC: Were these high school or college? SS: High school. Now they're all going to college. Just the two of them are going back to college. Lauren, the older one, she went to college already. They all live in Ramsey now. Steve lives in Franklin Lakes. And I live in Wyckoff. But still, most of my life is Hoboken. We spend all our time here in Hoboken. RC: Your life is, on one level at least, still very Hoboken centered. You're here almost every day. SS: And I tell you, I can walk the street, and it'll take me a half hour, an hour, and I stop-I know so many people, and they all stop to say hello. And it's great to meet these people. Especially Eugene from Amanda's. RC: Eugene Flinn. SS: Very close. Never has a bad word to say about... RC: He's done a lot for the community as well. SS: He's a good man. RC: He works for the museum, he's helped the Friends of the Library... SS: He's a wonderful, wonderful man. And some other people are good too. Not many people, I don't know-I never had much trouble with anybody. RC: I think it's what you bring to the party, actually, you know. That's part of the equation. SS: Like I said, now my son takes over. Half of the time I don't do anything. I go home. My wife and I go out maybe to eat or something. But that's about it. RC: You travel, I think, in the winter? To get out of the cold? SS: We go to Florida now. But it's getting harder and harder to go away. But, you know. I have a knee problem. We have issues as you get older. The body's starting to crack up. RC: I've heard. SS: But thank god, I'm able to stick around. I don't know, I'm trying to think what else I can tell you, so many things happened.... [FILE: Sciancalepore2.WMA] SS: He lived in Hoboken together, and naturally he gets married. RC: What was your brother's name? SS: Jerry. He worked on Eisen Brothers. And he worked very hard like anybody else. He was there for years until he retired. Then he went on his own, just doing odds-and-ends stuff. Jerry was always working. RC: Talk a little bit about the place he was working, and what they did, because I think people don't know about that part of... SS: There was a factory, on 15th Street or 16th Street, between the two bridges: Between Park Avenue bridge and the Willow Avenue bridge. And there's a factory there, Eisen Brothers, they made furniture for Sears, I think other companies too. And they made pretty good furniture in those days. That's all they did. He became a supervisor. A lot of Italian people worked there. As a matter of fact, the owners, they knew my brother very well, they treated him very well. RC: Was this, what, 20s? 30s? SS: Had to be, let's see, we came here in '27, had to be in the 30s. It was a big factory. Then they knocked it down, they leveled it off, they were supposed to build a park or something, I don't know. But, he worked there. What else did he do? He worked as a baker. He worked as a-there were so many jobs. We went from one job to another. And that's it. The best part was when I bought myself a car. I was 15 years old. RC: 15? SS: Yeah. Nobody knew about it. RC: Nobody knew about the car, or nobody knew you were 15? SS: I bought the car for fifty dollars. The roof was caving in, it was a Chevrolet. But you have no idea, it was ricocheting off all-but I learned by myself. But then when my wife went to get her license when we got married, I told her, look, I gotta teach you. We had nothing but arguments. RC: About learning to drive? That's always dangerous. SS: She says to me, she says, if I don't get out of here, we're going to wind up in a divorce! But she wound up getting her own license. And now she's trying to tell me how to drive. RC: So who usually drives, and who's usually the backseat driver? SS: No, either one of us. Nobody-we ask each other, you wanna drive or do I drive? I'd rather she drove, because every time I drive, watch out for this, and watch out for that. I don't want it wind up we get mad at each other. So I say, no, you drive. But that was fun. But she also, she could tell you stories, about the first house that we lived in. There was a big pole to where we hang our clothes to dry up; we had no dryer. Four stories high, and we just married. Going into the apartment, and I'm climbing up the pole. And I went all the way up. And I look down; I froze. I sat there for about fifteen minutes. And my wife is going, when you gonna come down? I say, I'm afraid. She says, OK, I'm gonna go to the front room. I said, why? She says, I don't want to see you when you make a splatter on the floor! I said, thanks! Finally, I said, well, I gotta go down, one way or another. RC: This, I assume, was one of those where you had a pulley from the window to a pole that... SS: Oh yeah. I put on the pulley, and I came down so fast! But that was funny; when I got down there, I said, that's the way you love me, right? But that was funny. RC: She loved you so much, she didn't want to see you go splat. I think that's... SS: She didn't want to see me splatter. But, there were other things there we did. We had neighbors, we talked to each other from the backyard between Bloomfield Street people and Garden Street people. You could see each other. RC: From yard to yard? Or from house to house. SS: From house to house. And we became friends with a lot of them, a lot of people. Dominick DeCesare, he just passed away, his son took over the-anyway, he's in business in Hoboken. So many others, I can't remember their names. A lot of contractors. It was fun. And then we'd go out, nights, we'd go to the Feast, the Italian feast every year, those days was different. Those days it was a lot of fun. RC: What was it like in the old days? SS: My brother-in-law, he would carry the saint, one of the guys. And you had to pay to carry the saint. I gotta tell you, the best one is this-this is coming to me now. When they first got engaged, my brother-in-law, my sister-my older sister-it's a custom that the Italian people give themselves gifts. So he buys me a cowboy suit, oh, very nice. A cowboy suit with guns on the side. RC: How old were you? SS: Maybe eight. Ten? RC: Not in your 30s. SS: Not in my 30s. So what happened, my mother goes, OK, let's put it aside, I don't want you to wear it, I don't want you to wear it out. In those days, you'd wait till it rotted out before you wear it! Anyway, they broke up. They had a little bit of an argument and they broke up, and we had to give the gifts back. Got my cowboy suit back. I said to my mother, I says, why do you have to give it back? She says, well, I've gotta give all the gifts back. So they made up again, they got married. I said, well, when I am getting... me, well, I'm getting older! I said to mother, the hell with them! I don't want it anymore. RC: You never got the cowboy suit back. SS: Who do you think I saw with the cowboy suit? His son! The Binetti that supplied the B.... I said, son of a gun, Binetti! But that was funny. RC: So you saw the suit, but you never got to wear it again. SS: Never got to wear it. But they do everything according to customs, you know, silly customs, and it was fun. But you sat on the stoop, and you walked the streets, they'd have a jug of wine. Everybody gave whatever they had. It was fun. All the old-time people sitting down and talk, all their stories; it was funny. I never heard of any crime those days. Maybe because I didn't know any better or I didn't hear it. But you never heard anything. I mean, we left doors open. I was babysitting for my sister that was just born here. And I would leave her with a bunch of my friends, to move the carriage around. And I would go back home after 3, 4 hours. My mother would say, well, how... RC: Everything's fine! SS: Everything's fine. Everybody would play with her. It was a different ballgame. Never had to worry about being kidnapped or anything like that. Today, it's a different world. RC: It is. I first moved to Hoboken in the 70s, and even then, people weren't locking their doors. SS: We went to jobs to where people would say, the refrigerator is open, help... [truncated due to length]