Retro Remembrance of a Fair Haven Police Chief

He was just that kind of community guy, old school cop and fireman — the kind people remember.

He that face many remember peering around every corner, offering help, an anecdote or 10 with a wry smile and wisdom-inspired wink. He was George Chandler. It’s been just over a year since George, a former Fair Haven police chief and 65-year fire company member, died at 92 on Jan. 25, 2016.

He grew up in Fair Haven and spent most of his life in service to the borough in addition to serving in the U.S. Navy.

George Chandler was known as a tall order of homegrown gentleman and community kinship filled to the hilt. He loved to fish, dance, tell jokes, offer up lots of anecdotes and just plain be kind to his neighbors by serving the community he loved and treating everyone like family — Fair Haven family.

So, the Retro Pic(s) of the Day honor the George Chandler and his Fair Haven roots and dedicated service.

To ask for an anecdotal story about George’s well-known 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. This guy is one of many 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 longtime Fair Havenite 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.”

From the closest of family members to distant friends who may have only had that one milestone memory of the chief that just stuck like that lingering wad of ABC (already been chewed) bubblegum under a kid’s shoe, he is remembered by many and emulated. OK, so no one chews bubblegum anymore. That’s the point — the sticking point.

RIP George Chandler. You are remembered.

— Elaine Van Develde