In the spring of 1924, Englewood welcomed what appears to have been its first Chinese restaurant. A small advertisement announced that Charley Wong would open a “Chinese Restaurant” at 16 West Palisade Avenue on March 7, 1924, promising “Chinese Food – Chop Suey.” The notice was simple, but it marked a quiet milestone in the commercial and cultural life of the town. At a time when Chinese immigration was severely restricted nationwide under the Chinese Exclusion Act, the opening of a Chinese-owned restaurant in downtown Englewood represented both entrepreneurial ambition and a new culinary presence in Bergen County.
Charley Wong and his business partner, Wong Dong, operated the restaurant for roughly a year before becoming embroiled in a highly publicized dispute that exposed local tensions over property, development, and race.
By late 1925, newspaper headlines described the pair in openly prejudiced language common to the era, framing them as defendants in a dramatic legal battle. The controversy centered on their removal from the premises at 16 West Palisade Avenue. According to court testimony, the Wongs held a lease and claimed they were wrongfully dispossessed. They alleged that Constable William Oliver, accompanied by several men, entered the restaurant and began removing furniture, equipment, and fixtures. During the confrontation, Charles Wong admitted to brandishing a revolver, which he said he seized in an attempt to protect his property while his belongings were being thrown onto the sidewalk.
The situation escalated into criminal charges. Charles Wong and Wong Dong were tried in Bergen County on allegations of assault and making threats against an officer. Yet the broader context suggested a deeper dispute over control of the property itself.
At the center of the controversy was Councilman Charles Greenberg of Englewood. Testimony indicated that Greenberg had an interest in the site, which was reportedly being considered for use as a theater. The Wongs asserted that they were pressured to vacate and that threats had been made to force them out if they did not relinquish their lease. During the trial, Greenberg’s role was scrutinized, though it was clarified in court that he was not acting as legal counsel in the case; his brother, William Greenberg, was an attorney connected to related proceedings.
In November 1925, after dramatic headlines and weeks of public attention, a jury acquitted both Charles Wong and Wong Dong of the assault charges. Observers in court reportedly felt the evidence suggested the men had been attempting to defend their rights and possessions rather than initiate violence. Although acquitted, Wong had already spent time confined in the Bergen County jail during the proceedings, and the partners indicated they might pursue civil remedies for losses incurred when their restaurant was cleared out.
The episode reveals more than a business dispute. It highlights the precarious position of early Chinese entrepreneurs in small American towns during the 1920s—operating in a climate of exclusionary federal law, racial stereotyping in the press, and vulnerability in local property conflicts. Englewood’s first Chinese restaurant was thus not only a culinary first but also the site of a significant local controversy involving municipal power, private development interests, and immigrant resilience.
For Englewood’s historical narrative, the story of Charley Wong’s restaurant adds an important dimension: the town’s downtown was already a contested and evolving commercial space in the 1920s, where questions of who belonged—and who controlled valuable real estate—played out in very public ways.