A SPECIAL REPORT

By John Soltes / Editor in Chief

CARLSTADT (Dec. 17, 2009, 2:40 p.m.) — In the bustle of Carlstadt’s industrial district, near where the IZOD Center casts a looming shadow, the vehicular traffic surrounding the warehouses and garages is normally of the four and 18-wheel variety. Tractor-trailers gurgle their way back and forth, while cars careen down nearby Washington Avenue, heading either to or from Moonachie.

But once a month, on a Friday evening around 8 p.m., the traffic in this easternmost section of Carlstadt changes drastically. Motorcycles, namely different varieties of Harley Davidsons, vroom their way to a nondescript building owned by Unimac Graphics. The men who dismount these powerful bikes are not making a pit stop for a break and some chow. They are here for a purpose.

They are veterans. They are law enforcement officials. They are brothers.

They are the Nam Knights.

Jack Quigley, who founded the Nam Knights of America Motorcycle Club in 1989, is a veteran platoon sergeant of the 11th Motor Transport Battalion, First Marine Division. Today, he strikes a commanding pose — tattoos down his arms as if he were perpetually wearing long sleeves, a multitude of patches on his well-worn vest and usually a big smile below his prominent mustache. Sometimes he even wears black shades.

Though he and his fellow club members may offer up a rough-around-the-edges image, they are by no means modern-day Fonzies, as Vice President Bobby Colaneri said. They are serious, caring men, united by their past. Theirs is a life of service, both professionally and personally, and they use the club as an impetus to conduct charity work for veterans and law enforcement officials in the area.

Quigley, a 63-year-old who drives a 1995 Harley Road King, started riding at the age of 17. The Cliffside Park native who now lives in Emerson would go on to serve in the Marines from 1964 to 1968, a span of time he would prefer to keep as a topic of conversation among his fellow club members, people who might understand the experience. After being discharged, Quigley became a police officer, serving in several law-enforcement capacities over the years, including a tenure as the undersheriff in the Bergen County Sheriff’s Department.

“The brotherhood that we had while we were in the military kind of transposed into our civilian lives,” Quigley said during a recent interview. “So, in 1989, about a half dozen of us met in my family room in Emerson and we started.”

That was 20 years ago. Today, the Nam Knights has evolved into a club boasting more than 40 chapters in 10 states and two Canadian provinces. More than 800 members have a place to rekindle the brotherhood of their military or law-enforcement experiences thanks to Quigley’s original idea in the late 1980s.

“We just designed a patch and started riding,” he said. “We never recruited, never chased down people to join.”

The club’s patch consists of a green dragon with red scales holding a Vietnam service ribbon plus “Nam Knights” on the top “rocker” position and “America” on the bottom (a flanking "MC" denotes the patch as a motorcycle club symbol). For those club members who are police officers or veterans of later conflicts, the dragon holds an American flag.

The Nam Knights’ parent chapter is still based in Carlstadt, holding meetings on a monthly basis and helping coordinate charity rides and events. Other chapters have independence, with their own rules and regulations, but they all follow shared bylaws. “Every member is on the exact same page all the time,” Quigley said.

Colaneri, a retired detective captain of the Carlstadt Police Department, serves as the vice president of the Nam Knights’ parent chapter. He rides a Road King as well, but his is decked out with a custom paint job sporting the movie character, the Predator.

Colaneri, who was a truck driver before becoming a police officer, said he’s been a member since 1991 because essentially he values the old adage of finding strength in numbers. “It’s the brotherhood,” he said. “We can do so much more good as a unit, as a club, than we can do individually.”

For Colaneri, who retired from police work in 2005 and is currently helping Emerson Police Chief and Nam Knight Michael Saudino make a run for Bergen County sheriff, the mixture of veterans and law-enforcement officials makes for an interesting membership. “There are a lot of similarities in the feelings of brotherhood,” he said. “You can’t understand it, unless you were in it. These are people you have to depend on with your life.”

Membership in the club is not given out to any and all who are interested. If a person meets the requirement of being a veteran or law enforcement officer, they still must ride a Harley (because it’s a “traditionally American-made motorcycle,” Quigley said) or custom-built bike with an appearance similar to a Harley.

But still acceptance doesn’t come overnight.

“Initially, if someone is interested, they can come by and introduce themselves,” Quigley said. “They can pitch in to help, and if they would like to proceed, they become a hang-around.”

Being a hang-around will lead some toward being a prospective candidate sponsored by a sitting member. This shepherding process can take up to a year, and ends with a vote of the membership. The candidate must receive support from 100 percent of the Nam Knights. “One no vote and they’re out,” Quigley said. “You can be an outstanding veteran, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to be an outstanding club member. Not everyone is cut out to do what we do. … We don’t grow rapidly; we grow methodically.”

It’s a matter of upholding standards. “We feel unless you really want to be a member, you have no right to wear our patch,” Quigley said. “These patches are earned.”

The stress is on the quality of the members, not the quantity. The prospect needs to be active, devoted and willing to join the brotherhood. One person who makes that cut is Joseph M. Sanzari, a Bergen County leader in transportation and highway construction, according to Colaneri. In turn, the Nam Knights took part in the annual motorcycle run to benefit Joseph M. Sanzari Children’s Hospital at Hackensack University Medical Center.

Outreach efforts

The club’s outreach efforts have changed over the years as the military conflicts have changed throughout the world. “Suffice to say, one of our main goals is embracing the guys coming from Iraq and Afghanistan,” Quigley said. “We never had anyone embrace us when we got back.”

One of Colaneri’s favorite memories is when the club helps “Gold Star” parents — those mothers and fathers who have lost a child in the service. One local example is that of the Schwarz family in Carlstadt. Marine Lance Cpl. Michael Schwarz died in Iraq in November 2006. His parents, Ken and Pam, are "Gold Star" parents and members of the Nam Knights, Colaneri said.

The outreach not only extends to recently decorated veterans. The Nam Knights raise funds for the Veterans Memorial Home in Paramus, which houses many men and women who served in World War II and the Korean War.

“We don’t really advertise what we do,” said Fred Reiman, president of the Nam Knights’ parent chapter. “But we’ve been going to the Paramus veterans home for 17 years. … We’re not looking for publicity. We make money and give it away.”

Reiman, who owns four motorcycles, served in the Navy in the late 1960s. He brought that experience with him to the Nam Knights. “We kind of clicked together,” he said. “I saw that a lot of the guys were from Vietnam service. We related together.”

Brotherhood is a term used frequently by Quigley and other members to describe the club. “There’s probably no time where you couldn’t pick up the phone and call at 3 in the morning,” he said of the devotion of the Nam Knights. “They would be there in a second.”

Quigley quoted Ronald Reagan’s famous saying, “Some people live an entire lifetime and wonder if they have ever made a difference in the world, but the Marines don’t have that problem.”

As far as the Nam Knights, “we don’t have to wonder if we made a difference, we know we have.”

The club provides an almost therapeutic platform for like-minded veterans to get things off their chest. “We’ve had a lot of people say that joining our club has done more for them in 30 days then the V.A. has done for them in 30 years,” Quigley said, referencing the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. “He’d rather talk to us than some psychologist who works for the V.A. who has no combat experience. As diligent as they may be in their studies, unless you’ve been there, you can’t understand.”

The Rev. Donald Pitches, of the First Presbyterian Church of Carlstadt, knows the Nam Knights well. Although not a motorcyclist himself, the local religious leader has served as chaplain of the club for more than a decade.

Pitches’ own brother was a casualty of the Vietnam War, having flown in the Air Force in an AC47, nicknamed Spooky or Puff, the Magic Dragon. Annually, Pitches takes a trip with the Knights down to Washington, D.C. Before leaving, Pitches usually blesses the motorcycles and the members. In the capital, he arranges blessings at the different memorials. Sometimes he even sings the oft-forgotten lyrics of the misty-eyed tune of “Taps.”

“I try to make as many club events as I can,” he said. “I’ve done weddings of members of the club, and I’ve done funerals.”

Pitches remembers fondly the first time he heard of the Knights. “There was a local member who stopped me one morning,” he said. “He was driving this garbage truck and he said, ‘Hey Rev., I belong to this little club called the Nam Knights. Would you come by and give us a blessing?’ ”

The following year, the Knights asked Pitches whether he wanted to travel with them to Washington, D.C. He quickly accepted. “I rode down on the back of one of the bikes,” he said. “They’re great chauffeuring me around.”

The Nam Knights were prominently featured in the Christopher Noth movie “Frame of Mind,” filmed mostly in Carlstadt. And Quigley himself was the subject of a recent episode of the tattoo documentary series, “Marked,” on The History Channel.

Quigley, like several other members of the club, sports tattoos as if they were guidebooks of remembrance. The most meaningful for Quigley is one that runs from his wrist to his shoulder. It shows a cemetery with headstones displaying the names of his friends who died in Vietnam.

Though the club members have endured difficulty, the Nam Knights know how to have a good time as well. They host parties and rely on their shared camaraderie to create positive memories.

For example, Quigley joked about what happens if a club member were to attend a meeting in their car or truck. “They catch a lot of heat,” he said with a laugh. “They are reminded that this is a motorcycle club.”