Hamburg Arrests Spur Legal Claim

From The New Jersey Herald:
 

Hamburg Arrests Spur Legal Claim by Jeff Sistrunk
jsistrunk@njherald.com

HAMBURG -- The former owners of the Gingerbread Castle, who were arrested earlier this month following an incident at the Hamburg Borough Municipal Court, are pursuing a claim against the Hamburg Police Department alleging the arresting officers used excessive force and caused them serious injuries.

Sparta-based attorney Jeffrey Patti said he mailed the tort claim to Hamburg Borough on Tuesday, seeking more than $1 million on the behalf of Francis J. Hinger Jr., 49, and Lorraine Hinger, 40, who were arrested by Hamburg police inside the municipal courthouse Aug. 2. Both were charged with defiant trespassing and obstruction of government function, and Francis Hinger was additionally charged with resisting arrest. The pair was released from custody pending a future court date. 

The Hingers owned Hamburg's iconic Gingerbread Castle, a sprawling fairytale-themed amusement park, until 2007, when it was sold for $680,000 at a sheriff's auction to local developers Gene Mulvihill and Pat Barton.  

The tort claim said the officers who arrested the Hingers, Sgt. Erik Aronson and Sgt. David McNulty, caused "extreme pain, humiliation and emotional trauma" to the couple, including Lorraine Hinger re-injuring an existing back injury. Both Hingers sustained "severe and permanent injuries" because of the officers' conduct, according to the claim. 

"The arresting officers' actions were completely out of line and excessive," Patti said.

Attempts to reach Aronson and Hamburg Police Chief Jan Wright Tuesday were unsuccessful.
According to police, the Hingers were at the borough's municipal court for a hearing before Judge John E. Mulhern on the night of Aug. 2 and became "upset" by the disposition of a case. From there, the accounts of the incident vary wildly between the police report and the tort claim. 

Police said the Hingers tried to "antagonize" the two opposing litigants in the case outside the courtroom, while the claim said the couple was mocked and harassed by the other litigants and that Francis Hinger attempted to defend his wife. The police account went on to say that officers intervened to prevent escalation of the incident and that Francis Hinger refused to leave the building. As Francis Hinger was being arrested, police said, Lorraine Hinger began to "verbally and physically interfere" with her husband's arrest and also refused to leave the building.  

Meanwhile, the tort claim said Aronson approached Francis Hinger and shouted at him to leave the courthouse as Hinger tried to protect his wife from the other litigants. Aronson then handcuffed and arrested Hinger, according to the claim. While Aronson was doing so, the claim said, he told McNulty to arrest Lorraine Hinger "without any probable cause of any misconduct." 

According to the claim, McNulty ignored Lorraine Hinger's advisories that she had hardware in her neck to stabilize spinal injuries and used "excessive force" in handcuffing her and removing her from the building. Although Lorraine Hinger was in "obvious and excruciating pain," the claim said, she was kept in handcuffs behind her back "for several hours." 

Aronson, McNulty and Wright are named as injuring parties in the tort claim, along with "department supervisors and/or shift commanders" and "others to be named as ongoing discovery warrants." 

Individual claims in the document include unlawful arrest, false imprisonment, excessive use of force, malicious prosecution, filing a false police report and assault and battery.    

  

Another storybook park is lost to history...

"Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?"
"I've been to London to visit the queen."
"Pussycat, pussycat, what did you there?"
"I frightened a little mouse under her chair."

Storybook Gardens of Wisconsin Dells, WI will not be reopening after what many thought was its annual winter hiatus. This morning, I read this article on the Wisconsin State Journal's website.

It's sad.

The Imaginary World, a site with a wonderful collection of storybook park ephemera (as well as other fun stuff), has an assortment of photos from the park's glory days. Unlike the realistic figures in The Gingerbread Castle and throughout Fairy Tale Forest, the characters of Storybook Gardens were stylized, cartoonish and whimsical, reminiscent of George Pal's "Puppetoons."

If you have a moment today, read a fairy tale.  If you don't have that moment, rattle off a quick nursery rhyme. If you know a child, read a fairy tale to them when you see them - every time you see them.  Teach them nursery rhymes, too.

But, in the words of Stephen Sondheim, "Careful the tale you tell, that is the spell - children will listen..."

A postcard from the castle's 1987 renaissance...

...and a few variations of the rhyme behind the postcard. According to wikipedia, there are a few variations of the popular nursery song.  Among them:

Rub-a-dub-dub,

Three men in a tub,

And how do you think they got there?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick-maker,
They all jumped out of a rotten potato,
'Twas enough to make a man stare.

 I must admit, I have never heard this rendition before, but I like it!  Here's another:

Hey! rub-a-dub, ho! rub-a-dub, three maids in a tub,

And who do you think were there?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker,
And all of them gone to the fair.

Again, it's new to me, but fun. And it's bawdy: three respectable townsfolk "watching a dubious sideshow at a local fair." It's a ryhme about an early burlesque show, as it were. 

Lastly, the version I grew up with:

Rub a dub dub,

Three men in a tub,
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick maker.
Turn them out, knaves all three.

And, as promised, the postcard:

 Happy Monday!

Fun Friday! A postcard from the 1950s...

On the reverse: "Two young visitors stop to visit with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in one of the towers of the Gingerbread Castle."

I'm taking the weekend off... wishing you a weekend of wonder -- enjoy!

"Children besiege the Gingerbread Castle at Hamburg" - NEW JERSEY NOW! 1930

An owl's eye view of the castle...

...a gallery of photos taken 25 March 2007, courtesy of our friend Flyin' Phil.  He has eight pictures in the gallery... let's hope for another photo-filled fly-over soon!

Thanks, Phil!

My visit to the castle in 1976...

Atop a giant mushroom...

Inside a giant storybook...

And on the train...

"Hänsel and Grethel," the folk tale as recorded by The Brothers Grimm

My favourite fairy tale...

From nationalgeographic.com:

Hänsel and Grethel

Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and his two children. The boy was called Hänsel and the girl Grethel. He had little to bite and to break, and once when great scarcity fell on the land, he could no longer procure daily bread. Now when he thought over this by night in his bed, and tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife, "What is to become of us? How are we to feed our poor children, when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?" "I'll tell you what, husband," answered the woman. "Early to-morrow morning we will take the children out into the forest to where it is the thickest, there we will light a fire for them, and give each of them one more piece of bread more, and then we will go to our work and leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we shall be rid of them." "No, wife," said the man, "I will not do that; how can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest?—the wild animals would soon come and tear them to pieces." "O, thou fool!" said she. "Then we must all four die of hunger, thou mayest as well plane the planks for our coffins," and she left him no peace until he consented. "But I feel very sorry for the poor children, all the same," said the man.

The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and had heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Grethel wept bitter tears, and said to Hänsel, "Now all is over with us." "Be quiet, Grethel," said Hänsel, "do not distress thyself. I will soon find a way to help us." And when the old folks had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house glittered like real silver pennies. Hänsel stooped and put as many of them in the little pocket of his coat as he could possibly get in. Then he went back and said to Grethel, "Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us," and he lay down again in his bed. When day dawned, but before the sun had risen, the woman came and awoke the two children, saying "Get up, you sluggards! we are going into the forest to fetch wood." She gave each a little piece of bread, and said, "There is something for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you will get nothing else." Grethel took the bread under her apron, as Hänsel had the stones in his pocket. Then they all set out together on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short time, Hänsel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so again and again. His father said, "Hänsel, what art thou looking at there and staying behind for? Mind what thou art about, and do not forget how to use thy legs." "Ah, father," said Hänsel, "I am looking at my little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say good-bye to me." The wife said, "Fool, that is not your little cat, that is the morning sun which is shining on the chimneys." Hänsel, however, had not been looking back at the cat, but had been constantly throwing one of the white pebble-stones out of his pocket on the road.

When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said, "Now, children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you may not be cold." Hänsel and Grethel gathered brushwood together, as high as a little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames were burning very high, the woman said, "Now, children, lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest and cut some wood. When we have done, we will come back and fetch you away."

Hänsel and Grethel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate a little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the wood-axe they believed that their father was near. It was, however, not the axe, but a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree which the wind was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had been sitting such a long time, their eyes shut with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke, it was already dark night. Grethel began to cry and said, "How are we to get out of the forest now?" But Hänsel comforted her and said, "Just wait a little, until the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way." And when the full moon had risen, Hänsel took his little sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver pieces, and showed them the way.

They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came once more to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and when the woman opened it and saw that it was Hänsel and Grethel, she said, "You naughty children, why have you slept so long in the forest?—We thought you were never coming back at all!" The father, however, rejoiced, for it had cut him to the heart to leave them behind alone.

Not long afterwards, there was once more great scarcity in all parts, and the children heard their mother saying at night to their father, "Everything is eaten again; we have one-half loaf left, and after that there is an end. The children must go; we will take them farther into the wood, so that they will not find their way out again; there is no other means of saving ourselves!" The man's heart was heavy, and he thought, "It would be better for thee to share the last mouthful with thy children." The woman, however, would listen to nothing that he had to say, but scolded and reproached him. He who says A must say B, likewise, and as he had yielded the first time, he had to do so a second time also.

The children were, however, still awake and had heard the conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hänsel again got up, and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles, but the woman had locked the door, and Hänsel could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said, "Do not cry, Grethel; go to sleep quietly; the good God will help us."

Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their beds. Their bit of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest Hänsel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground. "Hänsel, why dost thou stop and look around?" said the father; "go on." "I am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say good-bye to me," answered Hänsel. "Simpleton!" said the woman, "that is not thy little pigeon; that is the morning sun that is shining on the chimney." Hänsel, however, little by little, threw all the crumbs on the path.

The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they had never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again made, and the mother said, "Just sit there, you children, and when you are tired you may sleep a little; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and in the evening when we are done, we will come and fetch you away." When it was noon, Grethel shared her piece of bread with Hänsel, who had scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening came and went, but no one came to the poor children. They did not awake until it was dark night, and Hänsel comforted his little sister and said, "Just wait, Grethel, until the moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have strewn about; they will show us our way home again." When the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many thousands of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had picked them all up. Hänsel said to Grethel, "We shall soon find the way," but they did not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day, too, from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest, and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or three berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and fell asleep.

It was now three mornings since they had left their father's house. They began to walk again, but they always got deeper into the forest, and if help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and weariness. When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood still and listened to it. And when it had finished its song, it spread its wings and flew away before them, and they followed it until they reached a little house, on the roof of which it alighted; and when they came quite up to the little house they saw that it was built of bread and covered with cakes, but that the windows were of clear sugar. "We will set to work on that," said Hänsel, "and have a good meal. I will eat a bit of the roof, and thou, Grethel, can eat some of the window; it will taste sweet." Hänsel reached up above, and broke off a little of the roof to try how it tasted, and Grethel leant against the window and nibbled at the panes. Then a soft voice cried from the room,

"Nibble, nibble, gnaw,
Who is nibbling at my little house? "

The children answered,

"The wind, the wind,
The heaven-born wind,"

and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hänsel, who thought the roof tasted very nice, tore down a great piece of it, and Grethel pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and enjoyed herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a very, very old woman, who supported herself on crutches, came creeping out. Hänsel and Grethel were so terribly frightened that they let fall what they had in their hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said, "Oh, you dear children, who has brought you here? Do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to you." She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little house. Then good food was set before them: milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds were covered with clean white linen, and Hänsel and Grethel lay down in them, and thought they were in heaven.

The old woman had only pretended to be so kind; she was in reality a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the little bread house in order to entice them there. When a child fell into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but they have a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when human beings draw near. When Hänsel and Grethel came into her neighborhood, she laughed maliciously, and said mockingly, "I have them; they shall not escape me again!" Early in the morning before the children were awake, she was already up, and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with their plump and rosy cheeks, she muttered to herself, "That will be a dainty mouthful!" Then she seized Hänsel with her shriveled hand, carried him into a little stable, and shut him in with a grated door. He might scream as he liked; that was of no use. Then she went to Grethel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, "Get up, lazy thing; fetch some water, and cook something good for thy brother; he is in the stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him." Grethel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in vain; she was forced to do what the wicked witch ordered her.

And now the best food was cooked for poor Hänsel, but Grethel got nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the little stable, and cried, "Hänsel, stretch out thy finger that I may feel if thou wilt soon be fat." Hänsel, however, stretched out a little bone to her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see it, and thought it was Hänsel's finger, and was astonished that there was no way of fattening him. When four weeks had gone by, and Hänsel still continued thin, she was seized with impatience and would not wait any longer.

"Here, Grethel," she cried to the girl, "be active, and bring some water. Let Hänsel be fat or lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook him." Ah, how the poor little sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, and how her tears did flow over her cheeks. "Dear God, do help us," she cried. "If the wild beasts in the forest had but devoured us, we should at any rate have died together." "Just keep thy noise to thyself," said the old woman; "all that won't help thee at all."

Early in the morning, Grethel had to go out and hang up the cauldron with the water, and light the fire. "We will bake first," said the old woman; "I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough." She pushed poor Grethel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were already darting. "Creep in," said the witch, "and see if it properly heated, so that we can shut the bread in." And once Grethel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. But Grethel saw what she had in mind, and said, "I do not know how I am to do it; how do I get in?" "Silly goose," said the old woman. "The door is big enough; just look, I can get in myself!" and she crept up and thrust her head into the oven. Then Grethel gave her a push that drove her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened the bolt. Oh! Then she began to howl quite horribly, but Grethel ran away, and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death.

Grethel, however, ran as quick as lightning to Hänsel, opened his little stable, and cried, "Hänsel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!" Then Hänsel sprang out like a bird from its cage when the door is opened for it. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about and kiss each other! And as they had no longer any need to fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in every corner there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. "These are far better than pebbles!" said Hänsel, and thrust into his pockets whatever could be got in, and Grethel said, "I, too, will take something home with me," and filled her pinafore full. "But now we will go away," said Hänsel, "that we may get out of the witch's forest."

When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great piece of water. "We cannot get over," said Hänsel; "I see no foot-plank, and no bridge." "And no boat crosses either," answered Grethel, "but a white duck is swimming there; if I ask her, she will help us over." Then she cried,

"Little duck, little duck, dost thou see,
Hänsel and Grethel are waiting for thee?
There's never a plank, or bridge in sight,
Take us across on thy back so white."

The duck came to them, and Hänsel seated himself on its back, and told his sister to sit by him. "No, " replied Grethel, "that will be too heavy for the little duck; she shall take us across one after the other." The good little duck did so, and when they were once safely across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to be more and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from afar their father's house. Then they began to run, rushed into the parlor, and threw themselves into their father's arms. The man had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the forest; the woman, however, was dead. Grethel emptied her pinafore until pearls and precious stones ran about the room, and Hänsel threw one handful after another out of his pocket to add to them. Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together in perfect happiness.

My tale is done; there runs a mouse; whosoever catches it, may make himself a big fur cap out of it.

"Art: Gingerbread House" - TIME Magazine, 1930

From Time.com:

Art: Gingerbread House
Monday, Jul. 14, 1930

Dean George Harold Edgell of the Harvard Faculty of Architecture used to say that one good result of the persistence of U. S. architects in imitating traditional styles was that an art student could find an excellent example of every style of architecture known to man within 50 miles of New York. Until last week, however, the questing art student could not have found a proper Hans Andersen Gingerbread House. This omission has been rectified through a union of the talents of Joseph Urban, globular Viennese Architect and stage setter, and the enthusiasm of Fred H. Bennett, whole-wheat flour man ("Wheatsworth" crackers).

Just 50 miles from New York in Hamburg, N. J., the gates of the Wheatsworth factory grounds were thrown open and hundreds of wide-eyed children clambered excitedly through one of the strangest houses ever built. It is a poured-stone structure on the foundations of an old cement kiln. Its sparkling roof, white as sugar icing, is decorated by a frieze of pink and blue imitation candy hearts. Huge cookies (of cork) are set in the giddily striped and curlicued walls. A six-foot painted knight in gaudy armor on a painted horse spins from a turret as a weather vane. A gigantic black cat arches his cast stone back on the top of a sugar-stick minaret. A trained seal on a barber's pole is balancing a whirling ball on the tip of his nose. Up the balustrade of the exterior staircase stalks a procession of pink elephants, rhinoceroses. The interior is even stranger, with carved witches and fairies, gnomes and children, a giant metal plum pudding, glass-eyed electric spiders that slither up and down on copper webs. To curdle young blood one room has a reproduction of the cauldron in which Jack's giant made pot-av-feu of his victims before Jack slew him. The walls are studded with bones.

Pleased as any child with the Gingerbread House was Miller Bennett last week. He has long been certain that if people would only come to see his mill and his factory, his sales problems would solve themselves.

"I went to see the opera Hansel & Gretel when this problem was still unsettled in my mind." he snapped excitedly last week. "My eye was taken by the quaint fantastic fairyland gingerbread house on the stage. The thought struck me, 'just the thing!' Something like that for the children on the old cement kiln across the courtyard from the mill. I went to see the decorator Joseph Urban who designs the stage settings for the Metropolitan Opera, and he's been hard at work on this Gingerbread House of mine for two years. It cost $50,000, but if it brings the children and their mothers, it's well worth it."

I find this article especially interesting for a few reasons:

I'd like to know more about the cork "cookies" that were on the castle's exterior

I never knew the spiders were (at one time) animated!

It verifies what one very early postcard shows: the knight on horseback was once on the roof as a weathervane!

Originally, it seems, the bones were said to have been the remains of the Englishmen stewed by Jack's giant. In later years, tour guides pointed them out as either:

     a) the witch's victims
     b) the witch herself, after being pushed in by Gretel.

I hope to post more articles as time goes on... Somewhere, I have a manila folder that's absolutely PACKED with articles from the Sussex County Library's archives.  In the mean time, I'll share other good stuff... feel free to share you're treasures and memories, too!

"Oh, magic castle..."

...such is the most common translation of "O herrlich schlößchen," Hänsel and Gretel's initial reaction to the infamous cookie-studded centerpiece of Humperdinck's 1893 opera.  To anyone who visited New Jersey's Gingerbread Castle in Hamburg, "Oh magic castle" may very well sum up their response, too.  A place of magic and wonder, the castle played host to thousands of visitors and, dare I say, touched the heart of each and every person who passed through its confection-covered halls.  I look forward to readers sharing their memories and photos... so, that's my first blog post...welcome!