July 3, 2025

North Bergen is mourning the loss of one of its most dedicated public servants, John Bender, a lifelong resident, Democratic committeeman, and cherished member of the township’s civic family. Bender passed away peacefully on the morning of July 3, 2025, surrounded by his loving daughters as the music of Elton John played softly in the background—a fitting farewell for a man whose life was defined by love, family, and service.

For decades, John Bender was a well-known figure throughout the North Bergen community. His unmistakable voice and passionate advocacy for doing what was right earned him the respect and admiration of residents from all walks of life. Whether it was through his work on the Zoning Board of Adjustment, his years of service with the North Bergen Board of Education, or his tireless commitment as a Democratic committeeman, Bender always put his community first.

“Dad was a good man with a big heart. He was the best father in the entire world,” his daughter, Reann Bender, shared. “He’s at peace now with his parents to guide him. He will be missed greatly.”

Mayor Nicholas Sacco announced Bender’s passing on Thursday, expressing profound sorrow on behalf of the township and the North Bergen Democratic Municipal Committee.

“It is with a heavy heart that we inform everyone of the passing of our beloved committeeman, John Bender,” Sacco said. “John’s dedication to North Bergen was unmatched. He was always a vocal and passionate advocate for what was right. On behalf of myself, the Commissioners, and the entire North Bergen community, we extend our deepest sympathy to John’s family.”

John Bender’s roots in the area ran deep. He was the proud son of James R. Bender Sr., who operated the original Mr. Big’s Super Hero’s on Willow Avenue in Hoboken—an institution in its own right. Like his father, John became a beloved local figure, always ready to lend his voice, his time, and his heart to making North Bergen a better place.

Commissioner Allen Pascual offered his heartfelt condolences, saying, “My deepest condolences go out to John’s family. RIP John.” Commissioner Hugo Cabrera added, “Our deepest condolences go out to John’s family and friends. He was very loved and will be missed.”

During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, when fear and uncertainty gripped the community, John Bender quietly became a beacon of gratitude and support. Out of his own pocket, he personally purchased and delivered countless pizza boxes to police departments, fire stations, and EMS crews throughout the North Hudson area. It was his way of thanking the frontline heroes who were risking their lives each day. This selfless act, done without fanfare or expectation, perfectly captured the kind of man John was—someone who always put others first and never missed an opportunity to lift up those around him.

Friends, neighbors, and colleagues remember Bender as a man of great integrity and compassion—a steadfast champion for North Bergen who never hesitated to stand up for the community he loved so dearly. His presence at township meetings, local events, and civic gatherings was a constant over the years. His voice—always firm, always fair—became a beacon for those who believed in honest public service.

A wake in his honor will be held on Monday, July 7, from 2 p.m. to 8 p.m. at Vainieri Funeral Home. A Mass of Christian Burial will follow on Tuesday at 10:45 a.m. at Immaculate Conception Church.

John Bender’s passing leaves a profound void in North Bergen, but his legacy of service, courage, and kindness will forever echo through the streets he called home. The community he so passionately fought for is stronger because of him.

In a move that reeks of political theater, Hudson County’s recent property tax hike—specifically the crippling 30% increase on Secaucus residents—appears less like a fiscal necessity and more like a deliberate power play orchestrated by State Senator and Union City Mayor Brian Stack and his county allies.

On the surface, the story reads like a political rescue: the county hits Secaucus with a devastating tax bill, and Brian Stack miraculously swoops in with $3 million in state aid to save the day. But dig a little deeper, and the ugly reality of Hudson County’s backroom politics becomes painfully clear: the crisis was likely engineered to elevate Stack’s profile and punish political dissent.

Secaucus Targeted for Political Payback

It’s no coincidence that Secaucus stood nearly alone in not supporting Stack’s chosen candidates during the most recent Democratic primary. Instead, Secaucus officials backed incumbent Sheriff Frank Schillari—a direct snub to the Stack machine. Now, suddenly, Secaucus is saddled with the largest tax increase in the entire county while neighboring municipalities, many of which reliably back Stack, were spared from such a brutal financial blow.

This isn’t fiscal management—it’s political retaliation.

Stack’s “Solution” Was the Plan All Along

The so-called bailout from Stack is not an act of selfless leadership; it’s the second half of a staged crisis. Stack’s allies in the Hudson County Executive’s office and the Board of County Commissioners created the problem, then Stack positions himself as the solution, securing state funds to cover a portion of the damage. It’s a classic maneuver: set the fire, then show up with the bucket of water.

Even after Stack’s “heroic” intervention, Secaucus taxpayers are still left holding the bag for over $3 million in new taxes. The financial wound isn’t healed—it’s just been papered over to give Stack the political photo op he needs.

Corruption in Plain Sight

What we’re witnessing is not just political gamesmanship—it’s blatant corruption. The residents of Secaucus are collateral damage in Stack’s relentless pursuit of power and control over Hudson County. This is the same Brian Stack whose political machine has long been accused of operating like an authoritarian regime in Union City, where intimidation, retaliation, and pay-to-play politics are not the exception—they are the rule.

The County Executive Craig Guy and the Board of County Commissioners should be held equally accountable. They are either complicit in this political hit job or hopelessly inept at managing county finances. Either way, they have failed the people of Hudson County.

The Public Deserves Better

Hudson County’s long history of political manipulation and backdoor deals is alive and well under Brian Stack’s leadership. But taxpayers are growing tired of these games. They deserve elected officials who work for them, not for their own egos, ambitions, and vendettas.

Stack’s latest stunt may have temporarily fooled some into thinking he’s the savior of Secaucus, but the truth is clear: he created the problem, and now he wants applause for pretending to fix it.

The people of Secaucus—and all of Hudson County—should not be pawns in Brian Stack’s political chessboard. It’s time to call this what it is: a corrupt, self-serving abuse of power.

Political corruption is not just a relic of the past—it’s alive, thriving, and wearing a new face in Union City, New Jersey. The story of Boss Tweed and Tammany Hall may have played out in the 19th century, but its blueprint has been shamelessly resurrected in Hudson County under the iron grip of Mayor and State Senator Brian Stack. The same system of political favoritism, backroom deals, patronage jobs, and retaliation against dissent is on full display—this time masquerading under a Democratic-Communist government that operates without meaningful accountability.

Tammany Hall: The Original Political Machine

In the mid-1800s, William “Boss” Tweed built a political empire through Tammany Hall, New York City’s most notorious Democratic political machine. Tweed’s power didn’t come from good governance—it came from controlling jobs, police departments, firehouses, public contracts, and immigrant communities, especially the Irish and Italian working class.

The Irish and Italian immigrants, desperate for work and community support, were given jobs in exchange for political loyalty. Tweed’s machine handed out city employment, legal protection, and even expedited immigration services to those who promised to keep the votes flowing. The price? Rampant graft, institutional corruption, election rigging, and the theft of millions of dollars in taxpayer money.

Tweed’s story is often treated as ancient history. But the playbook he wrote is still in use today—just across the Hudson River.

Union City: A Modern-Day Tammany Hall

Union City, a North Hudson community built by immigrant hands—first German, then Irish and Italian, and now predominantly Latino—has been plagued by political machines for decades. The history of corruption in Union City is as old as the city itself.

The William Musto Era

In the 1970s, William Musto, then mayor and state senator, was the undisputed kingpin of Union City. He built a political empire by controlling public works, housing, and municipal jobs. Much like Boss Tweed, Musto’s reign relied on trading jobs and favors for votes, a system that spread its tentacles into the police and fire departments.

Musto was eventually convicted of racketeering and bribery in 1982, but not before shaping his political heir: Brian Stack.

Brian Stack: The Apprentice Who Perfected the Machine

Brian Stack learned from the best. He perfected the Tammany-style machine with a modern twist. In Union City today, municipal resources, police support, housing services, and even promotions in the fire and police departments are reportedly handed out as political favors. You are either loyal to Brian Stack or you are frozen out.

Stack has built his empire on fear, favoritism, and complete control of the city’s resources. Those who dare to oppose him face retaliation, job loss, or worse—legal harassment. Whistleblowers and victims have come forward with serious accusations, claiming that Stack’s allies in the police and municipal government engage in intimidation tactics to silence critics.

In many ways, Union City under Stack has become a Democratic-Communist fiefdom. Dissent is not tolerated. Municipal assets are treated as the personal property of the political elite. City vehicles are reportedly used for private favors. Grants and housing assistance seem to flow directly to Stack’s loyalists.

This is not democracy. This is a political cartel masquerading as a local government.

The Irish and Italian Roots of the Machine

It’s impossible to ignore the historical thread that connects New York City and North Hudson. The Irish and Italian immigrant communities, who originally populated the firehouses and police stations of New York, expanded into Jersey City, Hoboken, West New York, and Union City. The tradition of political patronage, especially in municipal services like police and fire departments, crossed the Hudson and took root in New Jersey’s urban political culture.

Today, those same networks of influence persist—just serving a new master.

Brian Stack’s Unchecked Power

Brian Stack has operated for years without serious legal consequences. Just like William Musto, just like Boss Tweed, Stack’s machine depends on controlling every lever of government: housing, police, schools, and public services. Multiple reports and whistleblowers have alleged corruption, abuse of power, election interference, and even the cover-up of sexual assault cases within Union City’s political structure.

The Hudson County Prosecutor’s Office and New Jersey Attorney General Matt Platkin have been accused by activists of turning a blind eye, perhaps even colluding in the silence.

Where is the accountability? The last time Union City faced real justice, it took William Musto going to jail.

Will history repeat itself?

A Call to Action

Union City deserves better than a political dynasty built on fear, favors, and the selective distribution of justice. The Irish and Italian immigrants who helped build this region worked for a better future—not for their legacy to be hijacked by another Democratic-Communist political machine that consolidates power for the benefit of a few.

Brian Stack’s operation isn’t just political dominance—it’s a modern Tammany Hall. The city’s fire and police departments should not be tools of political currency. Public resources should not be distributed based on loyalty to the mayor.

Union City is trapped in a cycle of institutional corruption that dates back generations. Breaking that cycle will require more than political slogans—it will demand courageous whistleblowers, federal investigations, and public servants who refuse to kneel before the machine.

Because if history teaches us anything, it’s this:

Political machines only collapse when the people rise against them.