RED BANK: ANDERSON’S LONG VACANCY ENDS
After decades of disuse, a building in Red Bank’s train station district has a stunning new addition – and its first tenant.
What’s Going On Here? Read on… Read More
RED BANK: BOTTLING THE MAGIC OF HISTORY
A poster from Glenn Vogel’s collection of Red Bank memorabilia on display at the borough library. Below, Vogel inspects a bottle brought to the library by Ron Costa, who found it in the Navesink River. (Photos by Sarah Klepner. Click to enlarge)
By SARAH KLEPNER
One man’s obsession is Red Bank’s history and it’s on display at the Eisner Memorial Library through the end of the year.
Glenn Vogel discovered that history is literally underfoot in 1980 when a fellow road builder at the Fort Monmouth section of Naval Station Earle suggested they check out the woods on a lunch break.
“He was getting stuff out of the ground, and he handed me a Red Bank bottle,” said Vogel, who was living in the borough at the time. “That intrigued me very much.”
It was the beginning of Vogel’s odyssey.
RED BANK: SPEAKING OF OLD BOTTLES…
Red Bank resident (and redbankgreen webmaster) Kenny Katzgrau went exploring for history under his house and, with the help of his wife, Katie, fished an old bottle from a hard-to access void in the foundation Sunday.
The house, on South Street, was the longtime home of Henry Gunther Degenring, who owned the HG Degenring soft-drink and beer bottling company at the rear of 16 West Front Street for more than 50 years and served as a borough councilman before his death, in 1958. The ad at right ran in the old Red Bank Register; Degenring’s father owned the Germania Hotel, also at 16 West Front. (Click to enlarge)
PASSING THE KETCHUP
At about six feet tall, this bottle does not actually fit in the fridge. (Photo by Dustin Racioppi; click to enlarge)
By DUSTIN RACIOPPI
So you’re driving down Rumson Road taking in the winter scenery, admiring the holiday festoonery as it gets you all atwitter for Old Saint Nick’s arrival.
But then the thought of cookies hot out of the oven is unexpectedly replaced by a desire for a pile of French fries, and you’re not quite sure why.
Could it have something to do with that humongo bottle of ketchup on the side of the road, opposite Holy Cross School? And what exactly is it doing there, anyway?