It’s 8 p.m. Do you know where your child is, or, for that matter, do you know where you are?
Well, if there’s a really loud horn blowing, you could be in Secaucus, which still tests its civil defense system every evening at eight o’clock.
The whistle, said resident Vito Petruzzelli, is “part of this town. It’s part of its quirkiness. It’s like our sonic fingerprint on this whole area.”
In fact, other residents speculated that Secaucus’ eight o’clock whistle can probably be heard in the neighboring towns of North Bergen and Jersey City, thus leaving its sonic fingerprint throughout the Meadowlands.
The eight o’clock whistle is “part of this town. It’s part of its quirkiness.” – Vito Petruzzelli
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“It’s straight out of a David Lynch movie that they would be scaring people every day, at the same time, on the dot,” said Petruzzelli.
Sounding off: residents remember the whistle
Various sound systems have been used for centuries as civil defense systems. Sirens, such as the ones heard throughout Secaucus, were generally installed during World War II, but remained in use throughout the Cold War era to warn people of a potential attack from the air.
“During the Cold War, we had air raid warnings,” said resident Dan Amico. “We had drills. The [whistle] was used to tell everybody to shut their lights off. So, when you heard the whistle we all had to shut our lights off because if [an enemy war] plane flew overheard you didn’t want the town to be targeted. If the lights were off, it would make it harder for those planes to see the town on the ground. We’re probably the only town around that called it a ‘whistle.’ Other towns called it a ‘siren.’ ”
Recently, several residents gathered after a Town Council meeting recalled hearing the whistle while they were growing up.
Like Amico, Paulette Halpin shared stories of hearing about relatives and neighbors who took to air raid shelters whenever the whistle blew.
But, interestingly, the whistle has played a particularly unique role, not in homeland security, but in the lives of young people.
“When I was coming up, in the summertime, all the kids knew to be home by the whistle and in bed in the winter,” recalled Amico, sharing a memory that was remembered by many residents.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” said resident William Sallick, deputy chief of the Secaucus Volunteer Fire Department and a Department of Public Works (DPW) staffer. “When we were young, we had to be home when the eight o’clock whistle went [off].”
“I remember when I was a kid, when the whistle blew, you went home,” said Kevin O’Connor, DPW deputy director. “And when they cancelled school in the morning [due to bad weather] they would blow the whistle. So if the whistle blew at seven o’clock, you knew there was no school.”
O’Connor’s department is responsible for maintaining the whistle system and is occasionally charged with making minor repairs when the system malfunctions.
On the rare occasions when the system malfunctioned in the past, savvy kids were quick to see an opportunity.
“There was this kid years ago, Frankie, and he used to love to ride his bike everywhere. Whenever you saw Frankie, he was on his bike,” said Mayor Michael Gonnelli. “Everybody in town knew Frankie had to go home after the eight o’clock whistle blew. One night, I guess the whistle didn’t go off for some reason. And a few of us see Frankie out, still riding his bike at like, 10 o’clock. We said to him, ‘What are you still doing out?’ He said, ‘The whistle never blew.’ ”
(And yes, the whistle, which is set mechanically by a system based in the police station at Town Hall, does sometimes sound at the wrong time when Daylight Savings begins and ends.)
Also interestingly, Baby Boomers who remembered their own parents using the whistle to set curfews seemed not to use it to regulate their own kids.
“It would have been preposterous to expect anyone in [my] generation to come home at eight o’ clock,” said Petruzzelli, 24. “Even when we were younger, it wasn’t like, ‘Be home by the whistle.’ That didn’t happen when I was growing up.”
Don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone
The gathering of residents outside the recent council meeting said they couldn’t imagine life without the whistle, and the suggestion that the town phase it out was repugnant.
“No! They can’t get rid of the whistle,” several residents chimed.
“Frankly, because I grew up with it, I didn’t even notice [the whistle] until recently,” said Petruzzelli, who completed his undergraduate degree at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, and who lived in Costa Rica for a while. “You know, you go away to college. You leave Secaucus for a while and you come back and you’re like, ‘That’s been going on all this time?’ ”
Petruzzelli recalls meeting a bartender who had recently moved to Secaucus from Indiana. The bartender told him the first time he heard the whistle, he was terrified because where he’s from, such alarms are only sound when a tornado is moving through.
Still, he said, “There’s a sort of romantic tinge to it in the summertime because it [sounds] at twilight. And that’s kind of nice. But in the winter it’s sort of freaky because at 8 it’s already nighttime. So, the whistle has these two extremes.”
But not everyone loves the whistle. According to Gonnelli, some whistles have been “deactivated” by angry residents who were tired of the nightly noise. Still, even the mayor admits the whistle has largely outlived its usefulness.
“It’s day is gone,” conceded Gonnelli. “With all the Homeland Security systems that are now in place, we now have a very sophisticated countywide warning system. So the day of the whistle is probably over.”
Thanks to an $800,000 grant from the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, 31 sophisticated emergency sirens have been installed throughout Hudson County municipalities, including Secaucus. These sirens were installed beginning in 2008 and have been tested at least twice since then. These sirens, in addition to emitting loud blares can also allow police and emergency personnel to give voice instructions to residents about what they should do in the event of a natural disaster or security threat.
Despite this, Gonnelli said, “We’re going to continue to sound [our whistle] every night at eight o’clock.”
E-mail E. Assata Wright at awright@hudsonreporter.com.