HUNGRY GERALD

In one of the great quirks of the American immigrant experience (think Chinese laundries, Indian motel monopolies, Korean grocers, etc.) Greeks have long been the dominant force in New York and New Jersey’s numerous diners and coffee shops and, in fact, in inexpensive dining establishments throughout the U.S. and Canada. The domination is so ubiquitous that the iconic New York take-out coffee cup was long emblazoned with illustrations of classic Greek art and architecture. Unlike fancy Greek fish restaurants (or traditional Greek restaurants), these diners and coffee shops are not gourmet destinations or particularly ethnic, but places where you can get a fast, square meal at a fair price. New Jersey’s Tick Tock Diner (famed for its “Eat Heavy” motto) has been in the news lately. Owned by a Greek family, the Tick Tock has never been a favorite of HG. However, its proximity to the Lincoln Tunnel and Meadowlands sports and entertainment complexes has made it popular (location, location, location). The news interest in the Tick Tock now is a case of murder. It seems the manager (relative by marriage) felt ill used by the head of the family (and Tick Tock boss) and hired a hit man to torture and kill the guy. As is often the case, the hit man was an undercover cop (with a nicely functioning) recording device. Too bad for the manager. HG’s favorite Greek greasy-spoon operator was Chris, a sweet, hard working guy who–some 60 years ago– ran a hole in the wall operation in the old Daily Mirror building at 235 E. 45th Street in New York. Chris had a thick Greek accent. This made him a favorite of Dan Parker, the Mirror sports columnist, who would often quote Chris as part of his humorous riffs on dialect. Chris fed the impecunious journalists, lithographers, pressmen and others who worked in the building the inevitable “cheeburger, cheeburger, cheeburger.” But, Chris also turned out great fried scallops and fried flounder. Splendid greasy French fries. Chicken livers and onions on rice. Other good things. Not too many vegetables, unless you count cole slaw as a veggie.

As a side note, it is fascinating that some of America’s great regional cooking from Cincinatti Chili to Rhode Island’s New York System wieners to Detroit’s Coney Island Hot Dogs can be directly traced to the blending of classic American food and traditional Greek flavor profiles (middle eastern spices, etc.).

Last week New Yorkers were shocked (and rightfully so) by the demented act of a homeless man who shoved a subway commuter to his death beneath an ongoing train. One more event to add to the nervous fears felt by many. The New York Post exploited the event by running a cover photo of the victim before his death under the lurid headline: “This man is about to die.” A new low even for Murdoch gutter journalism. The New York Times ran a searching and brilliant analysis of New York Post journalistic ethics by media reporter and critic David Carr. It is a must read. All of this made HG recall his days as an editor at Hearst’s International News Photos with hundreds of photographers throughout the world at his disposal. HG was 23 years old at the time. One midnight, as HG manned the Night Desk, HG received a tip from a police source that a man was perched on the rail of the George Washington Bridge and threatening suicide. HG couldn’t contact his staff photographers so HG raced to the city desk of the Daily Mirror, the Hearst tabloid which shared the same floor with INP. The Mirror had received the same tip and had a young photographer, Bob Wendlinger, on the scene. They had reached him on his two way radio as he was driving to his home minutes from the Bridge. A priest had the suicide by the collar and a police officer had his arm outstretched for the man to grasp. On his knees, Bob focused his Speed Graphic flash camera on the man. The policeman warned Bob that if the flash of his camera caused the man to jump he would be charged with homicide. The suicide said: “My hands are cold,” wrenched free from the priest and fell to his death in the waters below. Bob took the photo at the instant the man let go. Bob wasn’t sure he got it so everyone at the Mirror paced in suspense as the film was developed. When we looked at the dripping negative on the light screen we knew Bob had captured a classic image: Clutching hands above. A falling man with his face contorted by the knowledge of imminent death. The photo was a sensation. Life Magazine ran it in a double page spread and it was reproduced in newspapers and magazines throughout the world. Nobody connected with that photograph ever questioned the moral questions aroused by its publication. The world has changed.