It really started over dogs running loose; then it escalated to people weren’t bringing in their garbage cans. Next it was vehicles speeding on Bay Avenue. It finally erupted into a proposed ordinance to do away with the Highlands Police Chief and replace him with a civilian leader.
Then there was one most serious note in the mix!
The Police Chief was ordering sub machine guns and carbines to combat the anticipated crowd on one of the most celebratory days in the Bayshore. OP SAIL 76!
Meet the antagonists. The one was soft spoken, a professional in the real estate field, serious except for a touch of Irish humor, a man highly respected by his peers, a leader who listened to his contemporaries, studied issues, then took the steps he felt were right.
The other, a former Marine, was brash, loud, quick to smile and make a joke, proud of his uniform, his badge, and his department. And not a man to be put down by anyone.
Both were born and raised in Highlands, both loved their own town, both rose to their positions through their own efforts and challenging work and both were proud of what they accomplished.
The soft-spoken one was the Mayor, Cornelius J. Guiney, Jr.
The brash one was the Chief of Police, Howard Brey.
Brey described the duo as “two headstrong men locking horns.”
The year was 1976.
It was in March that Guiney was tired of hearing all the complaints, more than 100 he said, from residents about loose dogs, garbage cans, general lack of police enforcement of local laws. So the Mayor called a special meeting to ask the Chief for his side.
Dogs were not his job, the chief said. That’s why there was a community dog control company hired.
Garbage cans weren’t his job either. Too many streets to patrol, not enough police officers. It’s the council’s fault for not hiring more than the nine officers currently on the force.
Ticketing illegally parked car wasn’t his job either, Brey told the council. There weren’t ordinances that prohibited parking in all the places the mayor complained about. So he simply didn’t issue any tickets for parking at all.
Then the Mayor asked the Chief, a 16 year veteran who was named chief ten months before, if it were true the Chief was ordering sub machine guns and carbines to supplement the police arsenal.
He asked if the chief wanted anti sub machine guns to counter the crowds anticipated to be in the Bayshore on July 4, when the Tall Ships would be celebrating OPSAIL ’76 along the coast and New York Harbor.
Not true, the chief countered. Questioned further, he said, “well maybe it was mentioned, just as a joke.”
But then Councilman John Rodgers got annoyed. “Didn’t you ever write an order for machine guns?” he asked. No, Brey said. Rodgers asked again, “are you sure?”
Well, OK Brey responded, while he didn’t “write” an order, he did “type” it in his report.
Rodgers pursued questioning as to the reason for machine guns for OpSail. “We need them for dissident groups,” the Chief responded.
And who are these dissident groups?” Rodgers, who was also a teacher at Henry Hudson Regional School asked. “Quite frankly,” said the Police Chief, “it’s none of your business.”
The feud went on for months, An ordinance was introduced to have a civilian leader and do away with the chief; a public hearing was held with more than 250 jamming into every nook and crevice of borough hall, and in the end, ultimate action was delayed, not once but twice. Things smoothed out quietly on their own.
Guiney continued to say the police weren’t doing their job, Brey continued to say he would run his department the way he wanted. By Memorial Day, Dave Gilson, head of the local PBA, said morale was so low the police would not march in the Memorial Day parade.
And they did not. The first time in the borough’s history.
Then on July 4, the Tall Ships came, the crowds came, they filled the borough restaurants and bars, they brought their binoculars, their cameras and their kids. OpSail was a momentous success and events went on uninterrupted, without fights, without submarine guns.
And life continued in Highlands with a soft spoken Mayor and a brash police chief learning to live, if not happily, at least civilly, with each other.
