u/Ill-Parsnip-8150

So, with the Fourth of July coming up, I figured I’d tell another old Hoboken story. I got some good feedback on my last one. I’m sure some people don’t want to hear about old Hoboken, especially people who just moved here, and maybe some get annoyed by these stories. That’s okay. I’m going to keep telling them anyway.
This is really a couple of stories rolled into one from what I can remember. I have an okay memory I used to party a lot lol . I’d say this was the early to mid-’80s.
On a typical Fourth of July, I’d wake up in the morning and my whole block was already outside. Puerto Rican flags, American flags, banners hanging everywhere, people cooking right in the street. The neighborhood kids were outside, including some of the tougher kids and gangs around 3rd and Madison, which was really known for that back then.
People were drinking outside all day. Kids 14 or 15 years old were drinking too. I’m not saying it was a good thing—I’m just telling you how life was. Kids were playing baseball, basketball, stickball, whatever they could think of. You’d usually see a couple of scraps break out before lunchtime. That was just Fourth of July morning.
By the afternoon, you’d get together with your crew from your block and start heading uptown. Along the way you’d run into another group of kids, then another, then another. Fifteen or twenty different groups were all making their way toward the piers.
That’s why I always say Hoboken was ahead of its time.We were all around each other every single day, and nobody really thought twice about it. Back then, there was a group of kids everywhere girls and boys all hanging out everyone knew each other mostly.
By late afternoon, the piers were packed. People were grilling, barbecuing, drinking, listening to music, and having a great time. You had people jumping in and out of the river after a few too many drinks, fights breaking out here and there, people setting off their own fireworks, and just absolute chaos. It was crazy—but it was our kind of crazy.
Now, I know it’s probably even crazier today because Hoboken has grown so much. Back then I’d guess there were around 40,000 or 50,000 people living here. At the same time, that was when the first wave of yuppies started moving in. There weren’t many of them yet, but they definitely avoided groups of neighborhood kids whenever they could. Sometimes bad things happened to them, and I’m not saying that was right. I never approved of that and never took part in any of it. I’m just telling you honestly how it was back then.

Now this is one specific Fourth of July I don’t remember the exact year. As it started getting dark, things changed a little. A lot of street gangs existed in Hoboken back then. I’m talking about the ‘70s and ‘80s, when neighborhood street gangs were common in cities across America. On the Fourth of July, many of those gangs would make their way up to the piers, and there would be absolute chaos. I’m talking about brawls like you’ve never seen. Back then everybody seemed to be into kung fu, so there was a lot of kicking, punching, and fighting. Sometimes people got stabbed too. It could get ugly in a hurry.
One group I remember was called the Golden Angels. If I remember correctly, they were mostly from around Willow Avenue or Clinton Street. They were mostly Puerto Rican, with a couple of tough white guys in the group too. They had a reputation for jumping people, robbing them, and causing problems wherever they went. From what I remember, they were one of the most disliked gangs in Hoboken because there were so many of them, and they usually outnumbered whoever they were after. They were older and younger you had some of those losers in there 20s hurting little kids it was messed up. Older Hoboken dudes were the biggest bullies ever. The kids born in the late 50s early 60s in Hoboken were extremely violent and a lot of were very poor living in poverty. This particular gang or crew was a danger to Hoboken. Those kids were in out of the youth house in Seacucus and always in out of county in Hudson county jail in Kearny. Those Puerto Rican kids were connected to Puerto Rican kids in the Bronx so they also had golden angels in the Bronx back then.
A few days before one Fourth of July, one of my friends from Madison Street, another Sicilian kid, got jumped by them. They robbed him. They took his wallet, his boombox he was carrying, the beer he had in his hand, and even his shoes. They were just a bunch of assholes.
That Fourth of July night, they showed up at the piers. I don’t know how many there were—maybe 40 or 50 of them. Remember, these weren’t Bloods or Crips. This was before all of that, when neighborhoods had their own street gangs.
I remember they walked over near where Blue Eyes and the soccer field are today. There had to be 3,000 or 4,000 people packed into that area alone. Families were everywhere. Kids were everywhere. People were grilling, drinking, and enjoying the fireworks. From what I remember, the Golden Angels didn’t care who you were. They’d rob older guys, younger guys, and even women.
But that night was different. You had Black, white, Puerto Rican, and Indian families and neighborhood guys all standing together. As soon as people realized it was the Golden Angels, the crowd turned on them. Everybody chased them, and as many of them as people could catch got beaten up with bare hands. It wasn’t organized. It was just people standing up to one group that had spent a long time bullying everyone else. People getting stomped out hit with anything they can find in the streets it was a RIOT. I remember the police couldn’t do anything. This gang deserved it. Sheriffs state troopers came in people throwing bottles at them cops beating the shit out of people it was crazy. Now I know this happens everywhere but Hoboken seems so quiet now unlike how it used to be. Also I know now it’s sort of like that but there’s so many people from out of town it was just different then. You recognized atleast half of the people lol.
That’s one thing I’ve always remembered about old Hoboken. For all the problems we had, people looked out for one another. We weren’t perfect by any means, but when it counted, people from every background stood together. That’s why I’ve always said Hoboken was ahead of its time.
When the fireworks finally started, the whole city seemed to come alive. The police were chasing kids everywhere—out of the river, through Stevens, all over town. Kids were smoking pot, drinking, and doing all kinds of dumb things. Looking back, it was probably the best time of my life.
The fireworks were beautiful. You’d see your old school teachers, police officers, firefighters, ambulance crews, nurses, the mayor ,literally people you didn’t see for years then ofcourse the city workers—everybody came out that night. It didn’t matter if you lived in the projects or on Hudson Street. Everyone left their own block and met up on the waterfront.
From Pier A all the way up toward 16th Street, it felt like the whole city was there. Everybody had American flags on their shirts, hats, or hanging from their shoulders. For one night, everybody was together. That’s something I’ll never forget. Remember this is my point of view, I like to talk about everything the good the bad everything.

Just trying to show some information on our beloved city here we go.

Another guy people don’t mention enough when talking about old Hoboken is Angelo “Gyp” DeCarlo. He was born in Hoboken in 1902 to Italian immigrant parents and eventually became one of the most powerful Genovese capos in New Jersey. (Wikipedia⁠)
By the 1950s and ‘60s, Gyp wasn’t just another wiseguy—he was running loansharking, gambling, and other rackets throughout North Jersey. Hoboken, Jersey City… that whole area was considered Genovese territory. Back then the waterfront was booming, the unions were powerful, and the mob had influence in places most people never even realized. (Wikipedia⁠)
A lot of people know Gyp today because of Jersey Boys. He was close to Frankie Valli and Tommy DeVito, and according to the story, he even helped the Four Seasons get out from under Tommy DeVito’s massive gambling debts. That’s why Christopher Walken played Gyp DeCarlo in the movie. (Wikipedia⁠)
What I always found fascinating is that one of the most powerful mob bosses in New Jersey started out as just another kid from Hoboken. When people talk about Hoboken history, they usually mention Sinatra, baseball, or the waterfront, but for decades the Genovese family was just as much a part of the city’s history. Whether you like it or not, organized crime had a real influence on Hoboken’s docks, politics, and nightlife.
Anyone here remember hearing stories about Gyp DeCarlo or the old social clubs around town? I’d love to hear what some of the old-timers remember.

I’ve seen a few posts on here about the Hoboken fires over the years, but I’d like to go into more detail with everything I’ve learned, heard from older residents, and researched myself.
This is a dark chapter in Hoboken’s history. It’s uncomfortable. It’s tragic. But it deserves to be talked about.
Before I start, I’m not saying gentrification itself is evil. Cities change and neighborhoods change. But when greed and money become more important than people’s lives, that’s evil. The Hoboken fires remain one of the most disturbing periods in the city’s history.
I grew up around Madison Street and attended David E. Rue School in the mid-to-late 1970s. Hoboken was a completely different place back then. There were blocks full of old tenements, abandoned buildings, and families living in poverty that many people today simply never saw.
I remember one kid who died in the Park Avenue fire. I think he was younger than me. What always stayed with me was how poor he was. And I mean poor. That whole area around 1st and Park was full of rundown tenements back then. I remember him having holes in his socks and shoes. That’s something I’ve never forgotten.
I also remember the family from 131 Clinton Street. They were a Spanish family, and one of the daughters was in a wheelchair. I still remember seeing that building burning. also remember hearing about two Guyanese families who lived there. Hoboken actually had a small Guyanese community back then. From what I was told, one family consisted of a mother and several children, while another apartment was occupied by the mother’s sister, her husband, and their children.
The part that always haunted me was what happened afterward. The mother’s husband was still in Guyana and was supposed to come to America the following month. Instead of arriving to start a new life with his family, he arrived to attend funerals. He lost his wife, his children, his sister-in-law, her husband, and several nieces and nephews. I can’t even imagine that kind of grief. It’s one of the most heartbreaking stories I’ve ever heard connected to the Hoboken fires.
It broke my heart. Seeing families lose everything, especially children and elderly residents, is something that stays with you forever.
Looking at the newspaper clipping attached to this post, you can see what these fires did to people. Children were terrified to go to sleep. Families slept with windows open so they could escape if another fire started. The trauma spread through entire neighborhoods.

Olga Ramos
One name that always comes up when discussing the fires is Olga Ramos.
To be clear, Olga Ramos was never convicted in connection with the Hoboken fires. Much of what people know comes from newspaper reports, investigations, community rumors, and stories passed down by residents who lived through that era.
From everything I’ve ever heard, she was a Cuban immigrant who became a powerful landlord and property owner during the 1960s and 1970s. I don’t personally remember seeing her, but my parents did. They always talked about her name coming up whenever people discussed the fires and troubled buildings around town.
My parents told me they remembered seeing her being arrested after the fire at 131 Clinton Street, though she was never ultimately charged.
She reportedly owned multiple properties, including 1202 Washington Street, where I believe 13 people lost their lives in another tragic fire. Again, she was never convicted in connection with those deaths.
One story that circulated for years was that tenants claimed she threatened to do whatever she could to get people out of her buildings, even if that meant “burning them out.” Whether every story was true is impossible to know decades later, but those allegations became part of Hoboken’s collective memory and were discussed throughout the city for years afterward.
For those unfamiliar with the location, 131 Clinton Street was right near Napoli’s Pizza. Back then, the building next to Napoli’s was roughly the same size as 131 Clinton. They had to knock down 4-5 floors because of how damaged the top of napolis was. That entire area looked very different before the fire. I meant to also note that around 60 people most children were killed in these fires.

Why We Need to Remember
The fires weren’t just about buildings.
They were about families.
They were about children.
They were about poor people, immigrants, seniors, and working-class residents who often had nowhere else to go.
Many of the neighborhoods that burned are now among the most desirable and expensive parts of Hoboken. Most people walking those streets today have no idea what happened there or how much suffering took place.
Whether every rumor was true or not, one fact remains: people died, families lost everything, and an entire generation lived with fear that the next fire could be on their block.
That’s why I think these stories need to be remembered and discussed.
If anyone else has memories, family stories, newspaper clippings, photographs, or information about the Hoboken fires, I’d love to hear them.
Never forget.

Did Hoboken really have Prohibition-era tunnels?

I was reading an article about the old Hoboken tunnels and it got me curious. Growing up here, I heard stories about tunnels under parts of town, especially around the waterfront, old factories, breweries, and warehouses.

I remember hearing stories about the old Hoboken tunnels. Around where Marine View Plaza is now, from the PATH area up around 4th and Hudson, there used to be old-school bars, taverns, and social clubs all over those blocks. From what I’ve read, that was a big German area back in the mid-1800s.
I always heard there were tunnels down there, but I was never lucky enough to explore them. My guess is they probably weren’t giant secret tunnels like people imagine, but maybe connected basements, passageways, or walkways between buildings. Apparently they were real, but I don’t personally know anyone who ever got down there.
The only “tunnel” most of us knew about growing up was more like a cave. I believe it’s still there today under the cannon at Castle Point. I was up there recently and saw some of the old trails, although most are covered now by fallen trees and branches. No I’m not talking about Sybil’s cave there’s an actual tunnel or we called it a cave and it’s directly under the canon in the trails. We used to be able to walk the trails from where the little league field is on 5th street all the way to Elysian park around 10th and 11th street . These trails were big.
If I’m remembering correctly, right below the cannon there was an entrance to some sort of tunnel. We never went very deep into it as kids, but I remember it being completely dark and full of bats. I’m pretty sure it’s even visible in some old photos at the Hoboken Historical Museum.

I’ve always wondered something.
Did Frank Sinatra actually hate Hoboken, or is that just one of those stories that got bigger over the years?

I’m an Italian kid who grew up around 2nd and 3rd and Madison back in the 70s and 80s. By then our part of town was mostly Puerto Rican, but you still had plenty of Italian families around, and everybody mixed together. Spanish kids, Black kids, white kids—we all grew up in the same parks, schools, and streets.
Frank Sinatra was from downtown, and in my day his old neighborhood still had a lot of Italians, although there was a growing Hispanic population there too. We’re really in the same neighborhood but 2nd and 3rd street were way more Hispanic. My parents grew up in the times where all of downtown was 100% Italian even the Hoboken projects and the (white boy projects ) on 8th and 9th street. We all grew up listening to him. Our grandparents all claimed they knew him or knew somebody who knew him.
For a fact, the Italian community in Hoboken definitely embraced Sinatra as one of their own. A lot of old school Italians really knew him and I know people personally who did . The older Irish guys uptown, at least the ones I knew, weren’t nearly as fond of him. That’s just how I remember it.
The reason I’m posting is because I recently came across a Sinatra song I hadn’t heard in years called “This Town.” Listening to the lyrics got me wondering if it was ever meant to be about Hoboken. Parts of it sound like a guy who couldn’t wait to leave his hometown and never come back. On the other hand, maybe it’s really about Las Vegas or somewhere else entirely.
I’m curious if anybody knows the history behind that song. Was Sinatra ever talking about Hoboken when he sang it? And does anyone have any good Sinatra stories from parents, grandparents, or relatives who were around back then?

Within a few blocks of my house you had everything you needed. Biggie’s Clam Bar was right there. Losurdo’s was a few blocks away. Fiore’s was nearby. Delfino’s was sitting right on 5th and Jefferson. Silettis which was on Adam’s street then there was Diana’s (which was a diner) I hope that’s the name was around the corner . You could spend an entire day walking around the neighborhood and run into people you knew at every one of those places.
Back then these weren’t famous spots people came from out of town to visit. They were just part of everyday life. The owners knew people by name. Your parents knew people there. Your grandparents probably knew people there too. People always talk about how Hoboken looks better now, and maybe it does. But what I miss is how local everything felt. You weren’t walking past luxury buildings and chain stores. You were walking past businesses that had been part of the neighborhood for years and years. My neighborhood if we really even consider it a neighborhood was a mix of Italian and Puerto Rican. I felt like there was thousands of both in just a stretch of 4-5 blocks. One of my favorite memories of old Hoboken was St. Ann’s Feast every summer.
The second you walked toward 7th and Jefferson you could smell the food before you even saw the lights. Zeppoles, sausage and peppers, fried calamari, pizza, and everything else. The whole neighborhood was packed. Now I remember Ronald Regan being there I believe with Sinatra too, circa 1984-1985. There was a ton of gambling operations going on there you still even had some of the old school wise guys from the company K club which is still in Hoboken today and the casella crew from 1st and Jackson. I remember seeing wise guys all over the place. Music playing, people laughing, families sitting outside, old-timers telling stories, kids running around with no worries in the world. It felt like the entire city came together. The summer felt like there was no end.

Now I saw a comment on the Hoboken monkey man from my memory it was just a legend to make kids come home. The monkey man was urban legend around Hoboken. Every kid had a different story. I think it was mostly parents just trying to scare their kids to come home before the street lights came on. In those days in the early 80s there was tons of fires and gangs and a lot of bad people who came out at night. I heard a lot of rumors on the monkey man, Some said he lived in abandoned buildings downtown. Some said he hid near the piers.
The rumors got crazier every time somebody told the story. One kid would say he attacked somebody. Another kid would swear his cousin saw him. Nobody really knew what was true. I do remember my aunts saying to my younger cousins at the time that the monkey man will come get you LMAO. I also wrote a piece on the Bergen/palisade cliffs behind Hoboken I remember hearing a rumor a crazy man would dress up as a monkey and he lived back there in one of those make shift tents and he was the one terrorizing kids. It could’ve definitely been a possibility there was a lot of nut jobs in Hoboken.

One thing that makes me sad about Hoboken today is not that the city improved. Every city changes. What makes me sad is how many people who built Hoboken couldn’t afford to stay and enjoy those improvements.
The families that worked on the docks, worked in the factories, drove trucks, worked construction, cleaned buildings, and kept this city running for generations slowly disappeared. Many were burned out , Many were priced out, many moved away, and many watched the neighborhoods they grew up in become unrecognizable.
I’m not against newcomers. Everybody has a right to live where they want. I just wish there had been a way to keep more of the people who made Hoboken special in the first place. Hoboken had so much culture class and even some trash. We are the smallest city on the planet and we loved being from Hoboken . Our little town called Hoboken !

What’s the craziest thing that’s disappeared from Hoboken in your lifetime?”

I grew up in Hoboken in the 70s and 80s, and honestly the craziest thing that’s disappeared isn’t one thing—it’s the whole atmosphere. I remember all the old mom-and-pop stores, the different cultures packed into a square mile, and seeing the same families and faces every day. The city felt a lot smaller and a lot more connected. I remember many Puerto Rican restaurants and Italian restaurants.

On hot summer days like today, there would be packs of kids and young people hanging around the piers. People would be dancing, grilling, drinking, and jumping in and out of the Hudson all day. Looking back, it’s probably not something anyone would recommend now, but back then it was just part of summer for a lot of us.On days like today, we’d be down by the waterfront from morning until night. A lot of those old piers were burned out, falling apart, and probably dangerous as hell, but to us they were an adventure. We’d fish, hang out, and jump in the Hudson. You’d see packs of kids all over the place.

At night, especially in the summer, Sinatra Drive felt like one giant block party. Kids would come in from all over Hudson County and even Bergen County. People would be grilling, drinking, dancing, blasting music, and just hanging out until late. It wasn’t always peaceful though. Every now and then a huge brawl would break out. Some people back then had a lot of pride in being from Hoboken and didn’t always take kindly to out-of-towners coming down. Sometimes all it took was a few words and you’d have a rumble on your hands.

Another thing that’s mostly disappeared is some of the old Hoboken slang. One word we always used was “cump.” Most people used it like, “What up, cump?” meaning “What’s up, friend?” or “What’s up, buddy?” The old-timers claimed it was around back in Sinatra’s day, then it faded away for a while and came back again in the 80s. We used it all the time growing up. Nowadays when I mention it, a lot of people have no idea what I’m talking about. It’s a sacred old Hoboken thing, so if you hear anyone ever saying it they are definitely old Hoboken or their family was. The slang word “Cump” originated in Hoboken, it was never an nyc term or Chicago.

Maybe that’s what I miss most—the little things that made Hoboken feel like Hoboken.

Hello all , A lot of people visiting Hoboken never realize that just behind the town rises the Bergen Hill/Palisades cliff line, a rugged stretch of rock and woods that has its own history. I grew up in Hoboken during the 1970s and 1980s, and a lot of us spent time exploring the Bergen Hill/Palisades area behind Hoboken. Back then you would run into kids from all over—Jersey City Heights, Union City, the Weehawken Shades, and Hoboken itself. We spent countless hours wandering the trails, exploring every corner we could find. As kids, it felt like a real forest that went on forever. Looking back now as an adult, it’s funny how much smaller the cliff and woods seem than they did when we were young.

The woods always had a creepy reputation. The trails were dark, isolated, and full of stories. People talked about fights, homeless camps, strange characters living in the woods, and even wild dogs roaming around (which I was chased by one ). Whether every story was true or not, it was enough to keep you looking over your shoulder.

Today there is still a large homeless encampment hidden in parts of the cliff, but from what I remember it was even bigger decades ago. The camps seemed to stretch from the area behind where the 2nd Street Light Rail station is today all the way toward the Weehawken Shades. As kids we would occasionally stumble across makeshift shelters and signs that people were living back there, which only added to the mystery of the place.

One thing I do remember is hearing about bodies being found in the woods. I have never been able to find newspaper articles about it, so take this as a personal memory rather than documented history, but I distinctly remember seeing the fire department and emergency crews taking down two bodies that had been hanging from a tree near the viaduct. It was one of those sights that stays with you for life.

Today most people drive past the cliffs without giving them a second thought, but for those of us who grew up around them, they were a mysterious and sometimes unsettling place with countless stories attached to them.