As my standard preamble when reviewing a cemetery, let me say--- I never mean any disrespect to the…read moreholiness or sanctity of these final resting places, or to the memory of those interred there. I've always had a fascination with cemeteries, either as (a.) repositories of history and architecture and nature, or (b.) as quietly beautiful, bucolic spots where one can reflect and meditate on life and death and other momentous subjects, or (c.) when someone I knew personally is buried within, a location where I can peacefully mourn and remember what was (as a non-religious person, I'm not thinking about "what will be"....I'm thinking, "This is probably where I'll wind up being buried someday...hopefully in the far, far distant future.")
B'nai Abraham Memorial has importance for me personally because it's where I first attempted to locate the burial spot of someone "famous," (or "infamous"), which of course became a sort of "hobby" or avocation for me that has lasted through the decades. This was the start.
The "famous" person in question here is Abner "Longy" Zwillman, a NJ racketeer who was once referred to as "the Al Capone of NJ." He was also a benefactor who gave to the sick and needy, as well as an avenger against Nazi Bund groups that festered in NJ in the pre-War years (a topic covered in the book "Nazis in Newark" by Warren Grover).
I had loved reading about the underworld since childhood ("The Godfather" was the first R rated film my parents allowed me to see: I didn't understand most of it, but I loved it). Of course, being from NJ, that probably isn't too surprising, or shouldn't be. My grandfather had a nodding acquaintance with north NJ mob boss and Sinatra-mentor Willie Moretti (Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin were supposed to dine with Moretti in Cliffside Park on the night he was shot to death in 1951; they didn't attend that fatal dinner engagement because both of them had the flu). My oldest friend's father was friendly with Moretti's nephew and often told me stories of his interactions with Moretti. A friend from grade school was the son of "Fatty" Russo, who had a chapter dedicated to his murderous spree in an out-of-print book entitled "The Luparelli Tapes." Another friend had a cousin who dined regularly with Ruggiero "Richie the Boot" Boiardo. And so on...
Zwillman was a mob boss I didn't know too much about until I read a biography on him. It wasn't a great book, but it indicated he was buried in B'Nai Abraham following his suicide in 1959. I remember thinking, "Hey, I've passed by that cemetery on Rt. 22!" I was able to talk 2 friends of mine into helping me search for the grave.
Rt. 22 is an ugly highway, but the grounds of the cemetery, established in 1948, are peaceful and convey an aura of dignified beauty, with trees and foliage liberally interspersed among the flat gravestones and monuments. We picked what was probably the coldest day of the year to search. Initially, the cemetery didn't seem so huge, but after an hour of fruitless wandering down the rows, peering intently at the names on the flat tombstones, we recognized how wrong we were. It was huge, and densely packed with graves, and what had started as a lark had transformed into a daunting task. I was discouraged, but the bitter cold forced us to give up.
A month later, one of the 2 friends...displaying a heretofore unknown talent for investigative detective work...said to me, "Look, in that book, there's a photo from 1959 showing his burial, and these people are walking in from the street. There's a tree off to the side--- if you imagine that tree several decades later, as it is now, maybe we can find it and nail down the exact spot." We went back (the other friend was no longer interested), found the tree in question, walked straight in from the road, and...after walking several yards...located Zwillman's modest gravestone, as well as a weathered bench with the name Zwillman on it. I "immortalized" the moment by taking a photo.
Years later, I returned. In the few times that I've come to the cemetery since, I've never observed another person, making it seem even more peaceful and serene. It's still a beautiful cemetery, and it's seemingly another world away from the grim, gritty reality of Rt. 22. Just this past summer, I went there on a lovely July morning, and as I pondered the mystery of existence while standing by the grave, I was startled by what sounded like several loud gunshots, breaking harshly through the sylvan tranquility of the morning. My immediate thought, as my heart raced wildly, was, "Jeez, did I somehow piss off Longy's spirit?" Turns out, it was a vehicle backfiring at a nearby garage, outside the nestling range of trees that hide B'nai Abraham from the reality of Rt. 22 and Union's shopping mall sprawl.
R.I.P., Mr. Zwillman, and everyone else resting in the serenity of B'nai Abraham.
https://www.efootage.com/videos/43939/abner-longy-zwillman-kefauver-hearings