Assemblywoman Donna Simon: Inane and On the Job

As the nation continues to pull out of the most devastating economic downturn in a half-century, New Jersey lags behind. From most credible points of view – statistically, academically, and though plain observation, The Great Recession never ended here. Instead, it continues to grind on under the completely inept, arrogant leadership of a largely absentee governor in hot pursuit of national office. Here in the Garden State, joblessness, poverty, deteriorating social services and a dangerous wealth gap continue like it’s still 2008.

Tip O’Neal, the late, great speaker of the House of Representatives once said “all politics is local.” Upon considering his famous phrase, I began to think how my local legislators (I live in the Princeton area, or District 16) are reacting to this ongoing crisis. The State Legislature is absolutely the most powerful governmental entity in this state – and any state. While frequently divided, if a state legislature has enough political will, I can quickly take the reigns of power and direction from a governor and make him or her bend to its will. Only the legislature has the power to raise taxes, spend money, and make law. Any governor, however much in possession of personality or constitutional authority, has little or no clout in the face of a determined legislature. And let it also be said that the New Jersey legislature has the ability to impeach and remove the governors or any of his appointees.

So with Christie on his constant interstate adventures, who is minding the store? Well, it’s not the legislature, and especially not the lawmakers in my district. And if I could point out any legislator who is more out of touch, more uninterested in directly tackling the state’s numerous and very serious problems, it’s Republican Assemblywoman Donna Simon. When it comes to politicians who seemingly operate on a form of cruise control to nowhere, she takes the cake.

Just consider three bills she’s either sponsoring or co-sponsoring in the current legislative session. Now before I go into the bills, allow me to explain why I’m not nitpicking. Proposed Bills mean a lot to legislators and their constituents. Bills are the only solid, tangible indicator of what a particular politician seeks to achieve. Legislators can make speeches and all kinds of promises during campaigns, but only through their bills do they really have any chance of implementing actual ideas. So these proposals really ‘count’ and ought to be considered as the most genuine reflection of what a politician is contemplating and has to offer.

Assemblywoman Donna Simon
aims to protect New Jerseyans from
 such modern horrors as being forced
 to pay for your kids' college and people who
 make love to dogs. I am not kidding.

Let's examine this ‘trinity’ of bills which amply demonstrate what makes her faulty clock tick.

First, there is A3104, or more straightforwardly (and I’ve named it) the “New Jersey Gun Control Repeal Act.” This bill is perhaps the most radical, most right-wing, most reactionary proposal of the entire legislative session. It’s right out of Alabama. The bill would effectively eliminate most if not all forms of gun control in the state. It would enable county officials to undercut gun control laws by having the power to issue firearms identification cards, but that’s not the most extreme part. The bill, if ever passed, would transform the New Jersey into a “shall issue” state for people seeking to get licenses to carry concealed weapons. Under the bill, any person qualified to purchase and own a firearm (again, which would be a simplified process on the county level) would be entitled to pack heat.

So basically, if Simon’s bill were brought to lawful fruition, New Jersey would quickly be transformed into another version of Florida, complete with nonstop daytime shootouts at convenience stores and weekly household massacres. Oh, and of course, there’s the ever-present possibility of another Newtown slaughter.

Firearms aside, Simon’s also turned her attention not to pressing issues like cancer research at Rutgers, or student poverty, but to one of the most imperative issues today: Parents who face the nightmare of a court ordering them to pay for their kids’ college education. Yes, she actually wrote a bill, A4070, addressing this predicament directly. It would bar N.J. courts from ordering any parents to pay for college. I’ll call it the “Good Luck Kid, You’re On Your Own Act.” Though her party ostensibly champions the notion of “Family Values,” apparently Simon thinks that this personal form of parental betrayal ought to be enshrined in law itself. You can’t make this stuff up.

Then there’s the icing in the cake. A bill so perceptibly ridiculous, so hideously unnecessary, so completely silly, that it more than demonstrates her aloofness from the everyday concerns of residents. Again, does the bill fund our ailing highways and bridges? Does it enable the students of Camden to learn in a decent environment by requiring its schools provide heat? Is this a bill that aims to bring billions of dollars to Atlantic City so that coastal community doesn’t literally fall into the sea? Nah. Simon’s ‘best’ bill, A3012, bans bestiality. Yes, you read that correctly. Simon’s not concerned with the chaotic gun violence in Trenton. She’s apparently not losing any sleep over the horrendous, months-long delays for families applying for Medicaid. No, she wants to direct the state’s attention against the real enemy: people who French kiss their dogs. Now I’m not a person who advocates bestiality – but there was one time that my dog Dusty greeted me at the door and licked my face. So for all I know, depraved pet owners like me could be in Simon’s crosshairs.

Donna Simon. Yes, she’s thinking outside the box. Far outside of it. Really, miles away from it. She’s floating away from the box, to the point where it's become a visible speck. Perhaps she’s laughing, perhaps not, but the joke is on us. As New Jersey continues to flounder, Simon and her pals remain focused on complete and utter nonsense. They get away with it because we let them. 

The GWB: A Bridge to Manhattan, Yes, But for Others A Conduit to Finality

The George Washington Bridge. That vital trans-Hudson span and architectural wonder has been in the news quite a lot lately. Of course the bridge’s Fort Lee approaches are at the center of several investigations concerning whether or not they were purposely bottlenecked last September at the behest of Governor Christie (though certainly, members of his office were at the center of the bottleneck). Whether or not the Bridge will bring down the governor, time will tell.

Ever since I was a kid, “The Bridge” has always been at the center of a dramatic trip. Coming from New Jersey, you don’t really see the span until you’re right upon it. While traversing it, one can really take in its majesty as it launches from the Jersey Palisades, over the wide, blue Hudson waters and into the world’s principal metropolis. For millions of motorists and travelers, it is a bridge to wonders, to opportunities, to the Yankee Game, to an evening in the Big City.

Still, since its completion in 1928 the bridge has served a more nefarious, disheartening purpose. For so many people, the bridge has been a final destination, a conduit, an otherworldly span, and a terrifying shortcut to the

The GWB has long been a destination

 for those seeking a way out of this world

Afterlife.

A glance at area news sources prove that, just over the past two weeks, leaping from the span has been the primary method of attempted and successful suicide attempts. On May 1 of this year a couple jumped to their death in the waters far below; several others have tried and been ‘talked down’ by police and passersby. In these difficult financial times, some people are finding themselves especially desperate. The lack of affordable, prompt, comprehensive care for the mentally ill doesn’t help either. And thus, The Bridge lurks, always nearby, twinkling at night, always accessible.

The bridge was finished in 1928, seemingly just in time for the Great Depression which followed a year later. The Depression years took a devastating financial and personal toll on millions, and some of them made their way to The Bridge in a distressed effort to escape the times.

As a local historian and history teacher, I try to remind my readers and students that history is more than just wars and diseases and assassinations. It’s the story of real people coping with real challenges that, from their point of view, might have no end. For many of The Bridge’s early jumpers of the 1930’s, this was certainly the case. Depressed, broke, alienated…during this era, research shows us that too many leapt to their demise – even when, apparently, under a doctor’s care.

One of the most touching and disturbing examples that I found occurred in late October 1932, when The Bridge was still new. Elizabeth Trivett, aged 28, walked to the span’s center and jumped into the Hudson. After a short investigation Police had found she drove in from Glen Ridge in Essex County. Her note was especially poignant, as well as disturbing:

“Telephone Bloomfield 2-0116 and tell the doctor I’ve done it. Made up my mind and gone ‘somewhere.’ I know dad and mother’s hearts will not survive this shock, so please give them something at once to ease their going. My way of going is lovely.” 

As the Depression wore on, The Bridge successfully tempted jumpers from the flailing financial industry. In August 1935, Manhattan resident and bank vice president Claude Allnutt, 56, took his final leap. His story is particularly interesting. A self-made Maryland man, Allnutt was a highly educated college grad who worked himself up in the world, from clerk to bank executive. He was being treated for depression at the time, but apparently that did not stop him from making his tragic end. He left behind five children. The police officer that witnessed the jump claimed that Allnutt was particularly directed in his goal and did not hesitate for a moment before leaping. Others sometimes waited and wailed for hours, but not Allnutt.

Then there was April 19, 1938. On that infamous day two men jumped from the bridge, apparently unrelated to one another. Reports on the first jumper were hard to come by, but the second man, who could not be immediately identified, was about 65. The only clues to his identity and motive were the fact that upon paying his five cent pedestrian toll, he mentioned that he had broken his last dollar. His suicide note could not be immediately deciphered, as it was scribbled in Yiddish.  

The bridge continues to attract those who seek a final end. In 2012 alone 18 went to their deaths, with 43 more trying.

Suicide is an extremely personal and individual act. I really cannot suggest how the bridge might be made safer for those who are absolutely determined to end their lives. For those who are not contemplating that final act, The Bridge provides a spectacular pedestrian journey between New Jersey and New York. And the bridge is a long one; I don’t know how responsible we can hold local and Port Authority Police for patrolling every inch of it, looking for people who are seeking to end their lives. There are other, more pressing concerns for them, like preventing massive acts of terror and monitoring millions of motorists. But I know that many law enforcement officers who work in and on the span have received special training in dealing with the suicidal.

In the end, The Bridge will continue to stand. It will stand for progress, for the links that bring us together, and, unfortunately, for death.