10/31/11 11:00am
10/31/2011 11:00 AM

Despite chilly temperatures Monday morning, about 250 students at Riley Avenue Elementary School marched the school’s field in support of a Manorville family who lost their mother and young son in a car crash earlier this month.

The students raised an estimated $5,000 in pledges to benefit Jay Trinca whose wife Keri and seven-year-old son Jason were killed in a two-car crash in Manorville Oct. 8, that also critically injured the family’s two other young children.

Although the family does not live in the Riverhead School District, the students waved checkered flags in memory of Jason, an avid go-karter and Riverhead Raceway regular, as they circled the field four times.

“Many of the kids here don’t know them personally,” said fourth grade teacher Jim Schaefer. “I am overwhelmed with the support they have given.”

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VERA CHINESE PHOTO | Third and fourth grade students at Riley Avenue Elementary School participated in a walk-a-thon Monday to benefit the Trinca family of Manorvile. The money will benefit Jay Trinca, whose wife Keri and son Jason were killed in a car crash earlier this month.

10/31/11 9:30am

The Blue Waves football team was dealt a shot to the face this weekend, as Newfield rolled over Riverhead Sunday in the Waves’ own stadium, 37-0.

And get this; the teams meet again in six days!

While News-Review sports editor Bob Liepa was right in reporting the big win could give Newfield a mental edge going into the playoff matchup, football is a chess match and it’s hard for a good team to lose to the same team twice.

Look for Coach Shay to make the necessary adjustments, and if the boys are hungry enough they just might be able to turn Newfield’s confidence into over-confidence, and catch them sleepwalking.

I know from experience, being on a 1996 St. Anthony’s Friars football team that lost to Mount Saint Michael of The Bronx in the CHSFL championship.

We crushed Mount during the regular season. I often think about what would have happened if the two teams had played a tighter game before the rematch.

We’ll be live blogging Saturday’s game, so be sure to follow us at RiverheadNewsReview.com.

• Most people find the winter holidays, and all that shopping, wrapping and writing out cards, to be a burden. For me, election time is taxing, what with getting yelled at by all political sides over editorial coverage and advertising. Even the most sane of people get a little crazy during silly season, including myself. And it seems each fall brings up a new host of issues I’ve never encountered before on the job.

But we push on; the News-Review will be publishing its endorsements in this Thursday’s paper and online, so be sure to check them out.

• Halloween on a Monday, huh? But all the Halloween parties are over!

At least seeing those little trick-or-treaters knock on the door every 20 minutes or so will help break up what is normally a pretty humdrum night.

Looking for something to do? Check out our special events listings. And be sure to check back tonight for a slide show or two.

 

10/31/11 8:30am

BARBARAELLEN KOCH PHOTO | Teen Loft librarian Joyce Rienzo (standing center) brought her dog Dasher in prison costume (she was the prison guard) to the 'Fright Night' teen celebration at Riverhead Free Library. The teens played Wi games, guitar hero and feasted on pizza, punch and apple slices with nutella.

Get into costume and head out to a local Halloween parade today.

The Oysterponds Halloween parade starts at 2 p.m. and will begin at the Oysterponds School District located at 23405 Main Road. in Orient. The parade will then move down through Village Lane, Orchard and Tabor before returning back to the school.

The Jamesport Fire Department’s annual Halloween Parade event starts at 5 p.m. at the firehouse located at 25 Manor Lane in Jamesport. Refreshments will be served. Then at 6 p.m., the parade will march out to the Jamesport Community Center where children will get to meet “The Good Witch of Jamesport.” Prizes awarded for best costume. For more information, call (631) 722-8048.

The Cutchogue Halloween Parade will assemble at 6 p.m. at the Village Green located on Main Road. It will then march to the Cutchogue Firehouse on New Suffolk Road.

There’s also a benefit dinner, called “All Howls’ Eve” sponsored by the North Fork Animal Welfare League, scheduled for tonight at 7 p.m. to help raise funds for the Southold Animal Shelter. The dinner will be held at A Lure Restaurant located 62300 Main Road in Southold. Tickets cost $95 and includes a three-course dinner and an open bar featuring local wines. Costumes are optional. To reserve your seat, call (631) 765-1811.

Click here to view our full calendar

10/31/11 5:01am

I had this idea: Let me get a small and mature dog, seven to 10 pounds, so I can travel in good company and not be alone in wild places like Tierra del Fuego or Paris, France. I couldn’t take my dog Nina to Paris; too big to be allowed on the plane in the cabin with me. Plus Nina hates motorcycles of any kind and size, and Paris is where you’ll find them, sputtering and coughing all day long.

I called my friend and dachshund breeder for 55 years, Robin Gianopoulos, in Stony Brook. “I’ve got the dog for you,” she said. “A show dog I’m retiring, Ida Mae.” That’s how a love affair began.

Next morning I left Orient for Stony Brook with the mixed emotions and anxiety a blind date might provoke. Will Ida Mae like me? Will I like her? Am I her kind of guy? Robin welcomed me in the midst of barks and furry tails, long-hair and smooth-hair dachshunds having free rein of the house, encircling me, friendly but cautious in our first minutes of discovery. And there she was, Ida Mae, quietly observing me from the height of the couch in the living room. Her status in life, and in this house, was well established and secure. She belonged. Yet her life was about to change. Robin took us for a walk. Then she suggested Ida Mae and I go for a walk alone, just the two of us. We walked. Ida Mae was calm and inquisitive. Back at the house I asked Robin to hold Ida Mae so I could take pictures. Ida Mae was both strong and delicate. She had a powerful chest but she was petite, with fine features and the most adorable little face you ever saw. Her eyes expressed both sadness and mischief.
“Let me think about it,” I told Robin.

As I drove back to Orient, not one thought came up. But feelings were growing fast. I entered Willow Terrace Lane and wanted to turn around and get back to Stony Brook at full speed, take Ida Mae in my arms and elope to Orient for happiness ever after.

Ida Mae was born in Sarasota, Fla., the “child” of Dr. Thomas, a pioneer vet who developed some of the best miniature dachshund bloodlines. Minis were rare 50 years ago. Ida Mae had two litters. A granddaughter, Violet, is becoming a show dog and winning blue ribbons as Ida Mae did so many times. I have felt parental pride at her achievements. I know it may seem absurd, but it’s moved me more than once. Another granddaughter of Ida Mae is alive and well in Greenport.

Robin had not planned to let go of Ida Mae. In fact, her son had been quite upset at the idea of losing her. He had always assumed that she would stay in the family. But she knew Ida Mae would be pampered in my house. She had read my columns about my dog Lady. As a breeder she keeps about 10 dogs. Ida Mae would be a gift to me.

“Nina, you are going to get a little sister.” Nina wagged her tail. I drove to Stony Brook. No blind date anxieties this time. The excitement of new love.

“If your son is too upset … ”

“It’s all right, Pierre. Ida Mae will get all your attention. I know she’ll be happy with you.”
It was night. I put her carrier in my car, took note of her diet, the hours of her meals, and Robin told me, “She probably will want to sleep in your bed.” And we took off.

Although I don’t approve of driving with a dog on my lap for safety reasons, it didn’t take very long for Ida Mae to settle there in spite of efforts to keep her in the passenger’s seat. Not that safe either. I had just welcomed into the family a very determined dachshund. I have since learned that all dachshunds are like that, determined, brave, opinionated, impossible and irresistible. Ida Mae was 5 years old and not about to transform herself for my pleasure. Nina met Ida Mae. I walked two dogs on Willow Terrace for the first time. I also slept with two dogs in my bed.

In the country, in the city, Ida Mae made friends. Mostly people. Her name was unexpected. “What’s her name?” Ida Mae. They smiled. Nina had to adapt. She was not the only princess any more. I’m sure in the early days Ida Mae missed Robin and nine or 10 other dogs in Stony Brook. But she became my dog. A beautiful dog, long, silky ears, eyes that touched you deeply, made you laugh or moved you to tears. Her short legs inspired her to reach for new heights, somehow finding extra cushions on top of the couch to sit on. She seemed so confident up there. And, can I say it, radiant.

Then I got sick in 2008. My sister Marie-Lise came to the rescue. My friend Nancy had her own dachshund. Three dogs became too much. “Until you get well,” my sister said. I got well. But Ida Mae stayed with my sister. A new love had been found. A few difficult moments between Ida Mae and Beauty Belle, my sister’s black and tan young mini dachshund.

Years went by. Ida Mae was about 7 when my sister took over. While Beauty Belle chased balls endlessly, Ida Mae had other ideas: scattering the contents of bags, uncorking bottles, rearranging the stuff in a suitcase. She was also a dreamer, ate her meals slowly, savoring the food. Beauty Belle was more voracious in her ways. Ida Mae was the most affectionate dog you could wish to have. Nothing delighted her more than being held, your arms wrapped around her compact and tender body. She’d give herself to you, become part of you. I missed this closeness, I missed her warmth when she left my house.

In 2011 my sister was planning a trip to France. I was eager to have a chance to keep Ida Mae for a couple of weeks while Beauty Belle would be paraded in Paris. My parade with Ida Mae would be in Orient. It would be a lovely time together.

My sister praised Ida Mae’s punctuality. She called her “the clock.” Without fail, a few minutes before mealtimes Ida Mae ran to her bowl and waited patiently. She showed the same precision at the “wee-wee” pad, always taking her own length into account. Dachshunds are notorious for missing the mark.

In January 2011 Ida Mae’s visit at the vet is excellent. Her blood work perfect. But in July she doesn’t rush to her bowl at mealtime. She seems less exuberant when I visit my sister’s house. She’s getting old, I think. We try baby food. Not much success. We see the best doctors. They give us hope. She was joyful in the spring. My sister asks, “What happened in July?”

Even the vets don’t have a clear explanation. We hope, we worry and Ida Mae looks at us pleading for answers. We tell her, “Ida Mae, please get well.” We carry her around like a bouquet, like a gift. More sadness, less mischief in her eyes. She doesn’t bark much now but when she does, my sister says, “Good, Ida Mae. It’s so good to hear you bark.”

How the road to loss accelerates. How did we get here? A visiting nurse for pets, Charlene, comes once a day, then twice, to help hydrate Ida Mae. Charlene is an incredibly caring human being. At her house she prepares special meals for Ida Mae. My sister needs her support. Oct. 6 is a desperate day. I drive from Orient to meet my sister at the Animal Medical Center in Manhattan. I drive against the sun as fast as I can.

Ida Mae is still very pretty. But she’s giving up. I have difficulty giving up. What if we take her home? I ask. “It would be unethical,” answers the vet. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes,” he says.

Our time alone with Ida Mae. We take turns holding her, the way she likes to be held, warmly, closely, to be one with us. The vet comes back. Ida Mae raises her head and turns toward my sister as if asking for protection. My sister holds her tight, caresses her. I stroke her, too, the way I’ve done since that day I drove with her on my lap for her new life in Orient.

Ida Mae, Ida Mae, we never traveled to Paris together, but we went further, millions of miles together. I am not giving up on you, Ida Mae. Our trip will never end. Next week we’ll visit Violet, your granddaughter, at Robin’s place.

Pierre Gazarian is a poet and a writer of one-act plays. Email: pgazarian@aol.com.

10/31/11 4:00am

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 3
9:30 a.m. Riverhead Town Board work session, Town Hall.
7 p.m. Riverhead Planning Board, Town Hall.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 7
7:30 p.m. Manorville Fire District.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 8
7 p.m. Riverhead Board of Education, high school cafeteria.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 9
1 p.m. Southampton Town Board, Town Hall.
7 p.m. Flanders Fire District.
7 p.m. Riverhead Fire District.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 10
9:30 a.m. Riverhead Town Board work session, Town Hall.
7:15 p.m. Riverhead Zoning Board of Appeals, Town Hall.

10/31/11 3:00am

After our Thursday study group, Mary, the editor of our church newsletter, asked for volunteers to help compile said newsletter. We formed an assembly line and began collating, addressing and folding. Then, we hit a snafu. New to us were the clear wafer tabs that are used to seal the newsletter — and anyone without nimble fingers, or over 45, would have trouble seeing, let alone peeling off, the clear discs.

After some trial and error, we got the hang of it. When the task was complete, Mary remarked, “I hope that everyone who reads this newsletter realizes how much work it takes to get it out.”

Who knows why, but Mary’s words stayed with me. Truthfully, I haven’t given very much thought to the countless folks who work tirelessly behind the scenes. These folks make things happen. Then again, maybe you have; maybe you’re one of them.

I’ve been writing this column for seven years, and still don’t know what occurs after I hit the send button. Shame on me! However, common sense dictates that a myriad of operational steps must be taken before any columns or news stories appear in print or online.

After watching a movie on TV, I never wait for the closing credits to appear before changing the channel. Recently, for the heck of it, I did. The credits rolled for five minutes — editing, original music, casting direction, set decoration, costume design, makeup, etc. These folks are literally “behind the scenes.”

Think about the unseen crews who work for the Food Network. The star has center stage as he struts into the immaculate TV kitchen where the prep work has been done and ingredients placed in little bowls. The chef, with a great deal of flourish, empties the contents of said bowls into the food that’s being prepared, adds a pinch of this, a splash of that and — bam! The meal is complete.

I’ve prepared more holiday dinners than I can remember. If you’re like me, before the guests arrive, the table is set, the wine is chilling and the turkey is in the oven. We cross our fingers and hope that our guests will mesh (some behind-the-scenes family members can make holidays a tad sticky). We probably don’t employ a sous chef, so we spent the previous day baking, chopping, grating, grinding and stuffing.

Prior to the feast, we hit the supermarkets and local farm stands to select our turkey and trimmings. But wait — do we give any thought to turkey farm workers or the drivers who deliver the turkeys? How about the farmers and field hands who do backbreaking labor to bring about an abundant harvest? And let us not forget the folks who keep supermarket shelves well stocked. These folks play supporting, but important, roles in creating our holidays.

Those of us who love classical music are familiar with the works of George Frideric Handel, who composed, along with other masterpieces, “Messiah.” But are you familiar with the name Friedrich Wilhelm Zachow? Neither was I, until recently. He was Handel’s teacher and mentor. Or does the name Henrietta Mears ring a bell? Evangelist Billy Graham wrote of Ms. Mears, a teacher and Christian educator, “I doubt if any other woman outside my wife and mother had such a marked influence on my life.” I didn’t know that!

TV personalities Jon Stewart, host of “The Daily Show,” and Bill O’Reilly of “The O’Reilly Factor” have opposing political views, but they have one thing in common. Behind their wit, charm and political commentary, they employ many talented writers and research assistants who have the ability to create appealing shows.

Recently, while buying my daughter-in-law a birthday card, I had a eureka moment. Suddenly I knew why Mary’s words have stayed with me. It’s time to declare a holiday honoring the unsung behind-the-scenes folks. Hallmark would simply love the idea, don’t ya think?

Ms. Iannelli is a resident of Jamesport.

10/30/11 6:36pm
10/30/2011 6:36 PM

TIM GANNON PHOTO

The Polo Ralph Lauren  store in the  Tanger Outlet Center was briefly evacuated late Sunday afternoon after an overheated air conditioner unit in the ceiling left a smell of smoke in the building, according to Riverhead Town Fire Marshal Dave Andruszkiewicz.

The Riverhead Fire Department responded with several trucks at about 5 p.m. and the store was  reopened shortly afterward.

10/30/11 3:42pm

The unusually early winter-like storm has apparently caused the death of a Riverhead woman.

Susan Galligan, 54, was killed early Sunday morning when her compact car hit a patch of ice on the Sunrise Highway in West Babylon and struck a pickup truck stopped on the side of the road, Suffolk County Police reported.

Ms. Galligan was westbound when her 2008 Honda Civic spun out of control and struck the rear of a 2006 Toyota Tacoma at about 6:15 a.m, said police. Ms. Galligan was pronounced dead at the scene by a physician assistant from the Suffolk County Medical Examiner’s office.

Police said Adalid Trejo, 37, of Brentwood was also westbound on the Sunrise when he apparently lost control on a patch of ice and struck a guardrail. After he got out to inspect the damage Ms. Galligan’s Civil slammed into the truck, according to reports.

Mr. Trejo and passengers Joaquin Trejo, 46, and Franklin Trejo-Monge, 23, both of Brentwood were taken to Good Samaritan Hospital in West Islip for treatment of non-life-threatening injuries.