Reisman: Taking Pataki's pulse at Oley & Chuck's

Jim Walsh was enjoying a midday repast of roast beef at the far end of the bar at Oley and Chuck's Rainbow Grill in Peekskill, and was mopping up the last bits of gravy on his plate when the subject of politics came up.

Peekskill is George Pataki country — and Oley and Chuck's may well be the unofficial capitol, a status supported by a framed autographed photo of the former governor that sits in a place of prominence behind the cash register.

"I voted for him three times for governor," Walsh said. "Everybody said he wasn't going to do it, but he knocked Cuomo outta there."

Pataki was mayor of Peekskill. He was a little-known state senator when he defeated Mario Cuomo for governor in 1994. Now he is running for president and, at 6 feet 5 inches, he may be the tallest of the 14 Republican candidates — taller even than a certain bumptious billionaire. Nevertheless, he is virtually invisible in the polls.

"With 14 guys, I don't know," Walsh mused. "I think even he said, 'I gotta way outside chance.'"

Oley and Chuck's is a workingman's bar. Pataki's father, Louis, who was a farmer, postal worker and volunteer firefighter, was a regular with a preference for Beck's beer. When George Pataki won his first race for mayor in 1981, the old man could see he was on edge and needed something to "soothe the election day jitters," Pataki recalled in his autobiography.

"Come on Georgie," he said. "Let's go down to Chuck and Oley's for a beer. Get your mind off things."

Ever since, Pataki has made a ritual of stopping by at election time. Fittingly, the four-minute video announcing his presidential candidacy included an appearance at the Peekskill watering hole. The taping took all day, but only a few seconds of the saloon appear on screen.

The owner, Chuck Roberts, said, "We screwed around with him. For one scene, he went outside and then was supposed to come in. We locked the door. He took it like a good guy."

Roberts is a funny guy, totally deadpan. And he presides over a colorful bunch of customers, many of whom had their portraits done in charcoal by a local artist they called "Fonzi." Take Walsh, for instance. He has a beard and an eye patch and sports a snappy looking straw hat. When Fonzi did his picture, he had two good eyes. As a joke, Roberts drew in the eye patch later.

Walsh's portrait hangs below that of little Pete DeMarco, who worked at the General Motors plant. I met Pete 17 years ago when Pataki was seeking his second term as governor. He told me he wasn't sure he'd vote for Pataki and, when Pataki saw that in print, he went looking for Pete and kidded him about it.

Anyway, Pete died a few years ago. They still miss him at Oley and Chuck's.

Go around the room, and everybody it seems has a connection to the Pataki family one way or another. "Newt" Dunleavy worked with Louis Pataki at the post office. They were drinking buddies back in the day.

Gilbert Thomas, class of '66, was a few years behind Pataki at Peekskill High School where he ran the hurdles. He remembered purloining apples from the Pataki farm.

Charlie Kavana Jr.'s father worked under Pataki's father at the post office. The senior Kavana, in turn, supervised young George who took a summer job delivering mail.

"He's a hometown guy, a good honest man," Kavana said. "He has more credibility than a guy like Trump, you know what I'm saying?" (Nobody at Oley and Chuck's had anything good to say about Donald Trump.)

Kavana noted that Pataki has been out office since 2007.

"I'm a little disappointed that he stayed out of politics as long as he did," he said. "It's hard to come back on the national scene like that."

Kavana requested that I mention his father by his nickname because that's how Pataki remembered him. They called him Wings.

This begged the question: How did he get the moniker?

"He had big ears," Kavana said..

Email: preisman@lohud.com Twitter: @philreisman