REICH COMMUNICATIONS

A Long Life

 

Longtime New Yorkers will remember Dr. Frank Field, weather/health/science reporter at WNBC-TV, and then at WCBS-TV and WWOR-TV.  

 

I met Frank in the late 1980s, when I was running PR for McDonalds, and I interested him in doing a series on home fire safety. The series won Frank an Emmy and for me, a friend.

 

When he was at WCBS, we did a week-long series on driving safety, which brought me to the attention of the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, which retained me to do their regional PR for 18 years.

 

Frank and I stayed in touch till he moved to Florida.

 

He was a nice man who cared about journalism. He also cared about his Jewish heritage.

 

Frank died the other day, at age 100. I'm glad I got to know him.

 

Click here for a nice tribute to Frank Field from WNBC-TV.

A Voice for Jazz Goes Silent

WBGO, the jazz radio station serving New York (and the world via streaming), announced that Michael Bourne, its longtime morning man and host of the weekly "Singers Unlimited," has died.  He retired from the station earlier this year after 34 years on the air, bringing the best in jazz to his listeners.

 

What We Do: Super Pet Expo

 

Every year, we promote the biggest pet event on the east coast -- Super Pet Expo, at the New Jersey Convention Center.   

Covid prevented it from happening last year, so we needed this one to be a big comeback.  Media coverage was a crucial factor.

Working with our partner Jeanne Byington, we got lots of good advance coverage in print and online.     

With TV, we're doing really well. In fact, Super Pet Expo producer Eric Udler tells us this is the best coverage he's ever had for any of his expos, which are also held down in Chantilly, Virginia and, in  the past, in Nashville.

We arranged for WPIX-TV 11 to have a feature reporter, Ben Aaron, live from Super Pet Expo for two hours of yesterday morning's newscast.  Between teases and actual segments, which ran as long as 8 minutes, we got more than 18 minutes of airtime.  Click here to see the segments.

News12 New Jersey also sent a reporter, and his stories ran through last night and into this morning on all the News12 platforms in the metro New York area.  Click here to see the News12 story.

And as I write this Saturday morning, WCBS 2's weatherman John Elliott is reporting  live from Super Pet Expo, doing all of his weather segments in the 9 a.m. - 11. a.m. newscast.  He's talking with many of the exhibitors and having fun with the dogs and exotic birds on display. 

Here he is talking with show producer Eric Udler.  

 

 

9/11 20 Years!

Hard to believe it's been 20 years since that horrendous day.  In many ways, it still seems so recent.    

I was having a cup of coffee before settling in for work. The window was wide open, since it was such a beautiful day outside.  I heard a plane go by and it seemed awfully low, to the point where I got up and looked out the window,.  Not in fear, but just curiosity.

A few minutes later I got a call from my sister in Boston, asking if I was ok.  She told me the news.  A plane hitting the World Trade Center?  Probably a small private plane.  I put the radio on and heard it was a jetliner.  A horrible accident, I figured.  That changed when, 18 minutes later, another plane hit the other tower.

From my window I could see the ugly black plume of smoke rising downtown.  I went to the office down the hall, where I had a view of the towers.  From that window, I watched in disbelief as one tower disappeared.  I slumped against the wall as I realized my eyes had just watched thousands of people die in that instant.

It was a surreal time..for weeks after.  I'd look up nervously every time heard a plane overhead.  I'd reluctantly get on the commuter train twice a day, wondering if another attack -- on the transit system, this time-- would be the way my life would end, in a dark tunnel under Park Avenue.  Or would it happen with an attack on a mall or movie theater in the suburbs, where we had previously felt safe and immune from the risks of big city living.

Twenty years later, it still hurts.  My wonderful city was punched in the gut.  We've come back and life has returned to some sort of new normal. But we don't forget.  We never will.

Here's what a colleague, Tony Rossi, communications director for my client The Christophers, wrote...

 

On September 11^th, 2001, The Christophers’ headquarters was in midtown Manhattan, so I took the subway to the Rockefeller Center stop and walked through the building’s lower level. Outside a newsstand stood a large crowd, staring at a TV screen on which the Today Show aired video of the first plane hitting one of the Twin Towers. There was confusion as to whether the crash was an accident, but to me it looked like a deliberate hit.

When I got to The Christophers’ office a few blocks away, the second plane had hit, and everyone knew this was no accident. Our staff was told we should make our way home. Subways shut down because no one knew if more attacks were coming, so walking was the only option. Being that I lived in Queens, I headed toward the 59^th Street Bridge with several co-workers. We quickly discovered the streets were jammed with thousands of other New Yorkers trekking to their homes as well. Though everyone undoubtedly felt shaken, the crowd’s mood was peaceful, friendly, and supportive. There was a unique feeling of mass solidarity.

None of us were fully aware of the hell that was unfolding downtown because these were still the days of flip phones, not streaming smartphones. Your best source of news on the go was a transistor radio. As everyone walked over the bridge, I heard a plane flying overhead and grew nervous that it was another terrorist, who would fly into the bridge. Thankfully, it was a military jet protecting the city. Arriving home safely that day was a massive relief, a relief that many others wouldn’t feel because their lives had been extinguished in an act of hate.

On this 20^th anniversary of 9/11, I can’t help but think of the dead, but also of the ways in which we choose to live. Specifically, the prayer of Father Mychal Judge, the FDNY chaplain killed on the ground while ministering to survivors, comes to mind: “Lord, take me where You want me to go, let me meet who You want me to meet, tell me what You want me to say, and keep me out of Your way.”

And to his prayer, I add one I wrote myself to commemorate the day: “Giver of Life, on this day, we remember and pray for all the souls who died due to the shocking acts of violence committed on September 11th, 2001: the innocents on the planes and at work in the Twin Towers and Pentagon, the heroic passengers onboard Flight 93, and the selfless first responders who, while trying to save lives, lost their own, either on that day or in the ensuing years from 9/11-related illnesses.

“Lord, we pray also for the families and friends the victims of 9/11 left behind. Though their grief might have eased over time, the hole in their lives remains. Help them find joy in the memories of their loved ones, not just sadness at their absence.

“Finally, Prince of Peace, guide us to live as people of peace, grounded in Your command to love God and our neighbors above all else. It is easy to succumb to the temptations of anger and hatred when wrongs are committed against us. But these all-consuming emotions lead to a dead end. Help us instead to find the beauty and goodness You placed in this world and to follow the words of Scripture: ‘Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good (Romans 12:21). Amen.”

   

 

 

 

 

New York State of Mind...always

I love working and living in New York, my home.

Check out this musical tribute...

Thank You

 

New York City thanked those who helped us through the pandemic in a uniquely New York way.  Yesterday, the city hosted a ticker-tape parade up the "valley of heroes" -- the lower part of Broadway.

In the parade were first responders, healthcare workers, delivery people, bodega and supermarket workers and others who put their own lives on the line to help get us through the pandemic when it was at its worst.

But it seems like a very important group of heroes was overlooked.  Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of selfless volunteers came to help New York from throughout the nation.  Nurses, doctors, and many others who put their lives on hold and at great risk to come to New York to pitch in.

We can't overlook them.  Instead, we should thank them for helping and caring. 

 

 

 

                                                                         Photo:  NBC 4 NY

                                                                           

Battle of the Best Bagel Continues

The battle of which city has the best bagels continues, escalated a bit by a story in today's New York Times.

Bagel aficionados everywhere have traditionally pointed to New York bagels as the absolute best, although Montreal often takes a close second.  Of course, not all New York bagels are on an equal taste footing.  Bagels from corner delis,bodegas and coffee carts usually don't make the grade.  They're often just white bread rolled into a circle with a hole in it.  H&H Bagels were long touted as the gold standard, although I like Ess-a-Bagel.

And childhood memories of fresh bagels out of the oven from a big bagel factory under the El on Jerome Avenue in The Bronx are hard to top.

The Times story tries to debunk the long-held idea that it's the New York water that makes the New York bagel impossible to duplicate elsewhere.  The article claims it's not the water -- it's the baker.  They say a couple of Angelenos have figured it out and have bagels that not only rival, but actually top the famed New York bagel.   

I'll be out in L.A. next month and, time-permitting, I'll try to get a taste for myself.  

The owners of Courage Bagels in L.A., touted as one of the best.  Photo: The New York Times.

Happy and Healthy New Year

 

from New York City

 

Chestnuts

 

A story on CBS This Morning brought back some great childhood memories.

The story reported on an attempt at the University of Virginia to bring back from near-extinction the American Chestnut tree.  The tree, known for its sturdy hard wood and its tasty sweet chestnuts, was in forests everywhere in the east from Florida up to Maine.  The chestnut tree, so the CBS News story says, kept the people of Appalachia alive, as its timber was a major factor in construction while the chestnuts themselves provided food and/or crops for trading for many poor families.

And then, beginning in the 1950s, a blight began wiping out chestnut trees to the point that the American Chestnut is technically extinct.  Chestnuts we now get from street vendors or stores are from Japanese or European chestnut trees.

Scientists at the University of Virginia are developing a strain of American Chestnut trees that are resistant to blight, in hopes of eventually restoring the native tree to forests and farms in the east.

That’s all interesting, but for me the story brought back memories of my days growing up in the New York suburbs.  I don’t know if what I’m about to tell you was unique to Mount Vernon, southern Westchester and the Bronx or if it was something that kids elsewhere also did.  I’d love to know.

When I was in grade school, we used to walk to school past some homes that had big chestnut trees in their yards.  Every fall, chestnuts would ripen and fall from the trees, protected in pods covered with spikey thorns.  We would gather them and crack open the pods to get at the chestnuts inside.  But we didn’t eat them.

Instead, we’d use them for a game.  We’d poke a thin hole through the chestnut and pull a string or shoelace through it, tying it at one end.  And then in the schoolyard or on the street, we’d pit our chestnut against other kids’ chestnuts. The idea was simple… We would take turns holding our chestnut dangling from the string while a competitor would swing his chestnut, hitting it against ours.  We’d alternate taking shots until one of the chestnuts broke and fell off the string.  The triumphant chestnut would then be able to claim one “kill.”  If your chestnut beat a chestnut that had, say, 10 “kills” under its belt, your chestnut then inherited the defeated chestnut’s kills.  This game often went on for weeks, and some of the best chestnuts could be 100-killers or more.

We tried all sorts of things to strengthen our chestnuts, such as soaking them in vinegar.  I’m sure there were other secrets that I just don’t remember anymore.

I remember losing the two big chestnut trees on Primrose Avenue that were the main source of chestnuts among my friends.  We were sad when those beautiful trees got sick and were cut down, but we moved to other streets to find chestnuts, sometimes at the risk of encountering resistance from the kids on those streets, who were willing to fight to keep us poachers away.  Those chestnut trees seemed to be everywhere in Mount Vernon back in the 1950s.

We didn’t know it at the time, but the two trees we lost on Primrose Avenue were typical of what was happening everywhere.   I am pretty sure there are no chestnut trees left anywhere in Mount Vernon.  And, sadly, today’s kids simply don’t know what they’re missing without the fall ritual of playing chestnut. 

Maybe kids today wouldn’t play even if there still were chestnut trees around.  The simple game of chestnuts might not be able to compete with today’s video games and social media. 

These kids just don’t know what they’ve missed.

 

Bagel Wars

 

Bagel wars have been going on for decades...probably since the first transplanted Eastern European Jews came to North America some 150 years ago.

Growing up here in New York, I was lucky to have early exposure to great bagels, made in Manhattan, the Bronx or Brooklyn.  I've recounted the days when, as a high school or college student, I'd drive down to the big bagel factory in the Bronx to bring home a baker's dozen...fresh and piping hot right from the oven.

Over the years as I've traveled, I'd sample bagels in other places.  Even major cities like Boston and Chicago couldn't match their bagels to the ones here in New York.  Montreal, I will admit, has some really good bagels.

The west coast, especially the L.A. area, was always seriously lacking when it came to good bagels.  I can't say how many times I was disappointed after being drawn into a bagel shop in California with a promising name like Einstein's or New York Bagels.  It got to the point where I just stopped trying; I usually reserve my bagel-eating for when I'm home or in Montreal.

So an item in yesterday's L.A. Times that linked to a lengthy feature in The Tablet, an online Jewish cultural outlet, caught my eye.  The opening line, under the headline "L.A. Ups Its Bagel Game," is:  Bagels in L.A. suck.

It's an interesting read, describing how over the years New York expats tried to duplicate the famous New York bagel, usually with little success.  Is it the difference between New York water and California water?  Some California bagel-makers even tried importing or "Brooklynizing" the water they used, with no luck.

One L.A. baker, Zach Liporice, has tried following old-school New York bagel recipes. 

"'They came out terrible,' he said. Because, of course, there’s a lot more to a bagel—and to any “soulful” cooking—than mechanically following the steps of some recipe. This is especially true for breads, for which the composition of flours, local water, and temperature during the proofing process can have drastic effects on a dough."

So, the story says, L.A. bakers have pretty much given up trying to duplicate the New York bagel. Instead, they now add their own distinctive L.A. touches to come up with what critics say are some pretty good bagels.  Not New York bagels, but still, good bagels.

We shall see.  I'm heading out to L.A. Thursday for work (and some fun) and I'll try to check out some places mentioned in the article... Maury's in Silver Lake, Pop's in Culver City near Fairfax (where the famous New York-style deli Cantor's is located), and Courage Bagels, near Silver Lake.

I'll try to do some taste-testing and report back here in a future post. 

Wish me happy bagel-hunting.