A Bandstand Forever; New Judicial Respect

Through decades working at newspapers, one thing became quite clear: Everyone has a different outlook, a particular vantage on everything. No two people see the same thing in the exact manner. What some love, others hate. Some adore dogs, other loathe them. Others can’t get their fill of cats, others wonder why they exist. It is what makes our world go around, this pro and con.
Consider the structure in Cape May’s Rotary Park as a glowing example. Last week, we received an anonymous telephone call which cited a story about the John Walter Community Band’s performance in that structure, which was referred to as a “gazebo.”
The caller cited Publisher Art Hall’s recent column about a society remaining silent no longer. This man was willing to speak his mind. What incited his ire was referring to the structure in Rotary Park in that story as a “gazebo.”
“It was built as a bandstand years ago,” he said. The design was that of a bandstand seen by Art Doran, Cape May Rotary Club president in 1974, in Liverpool, England.
So impressed was that gentleman with that edifice that he wanted it replicated in Victorian Cape May. So it was, and has been the center of many concerts in the park over the decades.
I did a very rapid Google check of references to the structure in Cape May. Some performances simply state their music will be staged in “Cape May Rotary Park.” (After all, if one gets to the park, beach chair or blanket in hand, regardless of what the structure is called, they will hear the sweet tunes emanating from within.)
Others refer to that facility as “bandstand” while still others state they will perform in the “gazebo.”
In the court of public opinion, it comes to the nuance between “catsup” and “ketchup” that red sauce that adds flavor to French fries, hamburgers and hot dogs.
Perhaps a directive to all who shall forever write in the Herald about it, I ought to decree (like old Caesar Augustus, something I don’t get to do very often) that the structure in Rotary Park is, and shall forever be written here as, “Bandstand,” not that other word that is no longer be uttered or printed in these hallowed columns in reference to that place.
Now that we’ve settled that the only thing left to do is to find a parking space to listen to the music. There’s the bite!
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Talk about never criticizing another man until you walk a mile in his moccasins, I have new respect for New Jersey’s Supreme Court justices. That respect came after listening to Chief Justice Stuart Rabner detail how he and six associate justices decide weighty constitutional matters. He spoke at “Law School for Journalists” in the Richard J. Hughes Justice Complex July 25.
Would you like a job that required you to read at least 1,000 pages or more of involved court documents per case that you and the other Supreme Court justices must decide? Would you have the temperament to listen to oral arguments, Mondays and Tuesdays, September to May, of cases selected by the court, and then not discuss them with your peers for another week?
Could you sit attentively around a huge table as your fellow justices spoke in order of seniority about each case before you? Could you, upon order of the chief justice, write an opinion that all the justices could agree was the opinion of the court?
If you answered yes to the above, perhaps you missed your calling to sit on the New Jersey Supreme Court. Many consider court opinions as fascinating as watching paint dry, but when the process is explained, it takes on new dimension. These are matters that could potentially affect each of us some day. Cases selected by the state Supreme Court for decision are novel or are otherwise deemed to have importance in future legal cases in the state.
Reading the cases and the opinions is probably where many movies and television series began, and they are accessible for the public at www.njcourts.com. There’s a lot more to see there, from jury service to paying a fine in a municipal court. There are no secrets in the law; all you must do is read it.
A point made during the day’s presentations by an assortment of judges, our society is one of laws, not men. New Jersey’s court system was the model used when Alaska and Hawaii set about to establish their court systems. In addition, China and Japan have sent observers to see how New Jersey’s court system works, because they would like to have a similar system in their nations.
While some may walk out of a courtroom unhappy, most would agree that the process was as fair as possible.
If the reader will indulge me a moment, Gov. Richard J. Hughes was one of the first subjects this photographer-editor focused on. There was a Democratic dinner rally held at Zaberer’s Anglesea Inn, North Wildwod. So tender of age was I that my father had to drive me there to snap a photo for the Cape May Star and Wave. I was in awe that a high school kid could actually “order” the governor, “Get closer!” and he did. Thanks to my mentor, 4-H leader and Zaberer’s maître d’ Henry Ahrendts, I have that crystal moment to remember.