By Elaine Van Develde

They were both just that kind of guy — the kind people remember.

They were George Chandler and brother Warren — Chum to most. George, the former Fair Haven police chief and 65-year fire company member was laid to rest a couple of weeks ago at 92. His brother, Chum, died last March, a 64-year fireman.

The Chandler boys grew up in Fair Haven and spent most of their lives in service to the borough. Both were lifetime firemen. One was police chief for many years. The other ran a family business. Both served in the U.S. Navy.

Both were tall orders of homegrown gentlemen, community and kinship filled. They loved to fish, dance, tell jokes, offer up lots of anecdotes and just plain be kind to their neighbors by serving the community they both loved and treating everyone like family — Fair Haven family. Their legacy is a simple one. They cared. It’s that simple.

It was Chum’s birthday the other day. He would have been 90. George was a little older — 92.

So, the Retro Pic(s) of the Day honor the brothers Chandler and their dedication to Fair Haven family and beyond.

Chum’s legacy involved a lot of head scratching, enjoying life, tough pull-yourself-up-by-the- bootstraps love, and lending a good joke and a hand.

To ask for an anecdotal story about George’s anecdotes of life (yes, that was intentional) was to hear something like the story that follows from the memory of a young boy growing up in the borough who still hears the former police chief’s voice and sees his friendly, old fashioned brand of stern with a caring smile.

It’s a classic from Thom White.

And it goes like this …

“On a ‘no school snow day’ in the 1960s my friends and I decided we’d throw snowballs at cars on River Road. We were hiding in a church’s bushes across River Road from George’s house. I threw one that smacked the side of a borough bus, and gleefully asked ‘Did you see that?’

“George answered from behind me, ‘Yes I did.’ Stop doing that right now. It’s dangerous. And go home and tell your mom that I caught you.’ He added with a wry smile, ‘I might just come by later and check.’

Well, I did as I was told, and a couple of hours later there was a knock on our front door … and there was George in his uniform. He spoke to my mom, who told him that I had confessed, and he reminded me how dangerous it was to do what I was doing. Needless to say, I never did THAT again, and whenever I’d see him in later years, he was always friendly and wanted to know what I was up to. A true gentleman.”

The two were gentlemen many who knew them said they strive to emulate — from the closest of family to distant friends who may have only had that one milestone memory of one or the other that just stuck like that lingering wad of ABC (already been chewed) bubblegum under a kid’s shoe. OK, so no one chews bubblegum anymore. That’s the point. A story of gentlemen — and sticking to it.

“There are two men in my life, besides my dad, who, even as a young girl, I declared as my examples of the man I should marry one day — ever-smiling, infectiously optimistic, hard working, giving, pure gentlemen through and through — my Uncle Billy, and my Great Uncle George,” George’s great niece Heather Wilson said.

“Wishing this week to be back, one more time, on your couch with Aunt Thelma putting rollers in my hair, attending your police fair (Fair Haven Firemen’s Fair) with my siblings, or hearing you call for my brother Mike, ‘C’mon Charlie … lets go fishin!”

Yes. The community is fishing, Chandler brothers. Fishing for more like you.

Thank you. RIP, Chum and George Chandler. Happy 90th, Chum.

— Photos/courtesy of the Chandler family

This is the second in a series of families in community service.