gn betty-5Author of ''Clock'' Reflects on Ten-Year RunBy Rena KunisAs the tenth anniversary of the Great Neck Record's weekly column, ''Heard 'Round The Clock,'' approaches, its longtime author reflected on its purpose and its history. ''The world is full of stories,'' said Betty Rosenzweig, ''some amusing, some nostalgic, and most of them useful in some way to those hearing them.''The column was started by William Dobkin when he was editor-in-chief of the Record, as a ''place to put items of interest that belonged nowhere else in the paper.'' Shortly thereafter Ms. Rosenzweig took over. The clock referred to in the title is the large clock at the corner of Middle Neck Road and Grace Avenue, the center of town which most residents pass frequently in their peregrinations.Most of the material for ''Clock'' comes to Ms. Rosenzweig unsought. ''People call, or write, or stop me on the street to tell me of events and impressions,'' she said. Asked which of the events she has recounted were her favorites, she responded, ''All of them! But the one I'll hear about tomorrow is always the best.''Among the hundreds of vignettes she has written she recalled several that were special to her for one reason or another. There was the story of Dudley, a beloved dog belonging to Great Neck resident Suzanne Berv. When Ms. Berv tearfully reported Dudley's death to her dentist on a routine visit, he suggested that she visit the North Shore Animal League (a special interest of Ms. Rosenzweig's) to get another pet. Reluctantly, Ms. Berv took his advice. When she told the adoption counselor at the League her story, he said, ''We have just the dog for you. He doesn't look like your lost pet as you described him, but he's a loving, well-trained animal, and his name is --Dudley.'' Ms. Berv adopted Dudley II, and the match was a big success.Ms. Rosenzweig also recounted the story of Hospice volunteer Bert Sloan, who visits his male patients (''I don't think a sick woman would want a strange man in her bedroom,'' he explained) and gives them each two tickets for the lottery, on the conditions that they will contribute half of their winnings to Hospice and split the other half with him. No one has yet won the jackpot, but the patients spend many happy hours planning what they will do with their winnings when the lucky day comes.Another favorite item is the tale of the car that belonged to the late Harry Weisbein. New York City traffic officials are still sending him summonses for a violation that was supposed to have happened in the city. ''Harry never drove his car into New York City,'' said Ms. Rosenzweig, ''and the car was impounded years ago.'' Mr. Weisbein's neighbor faithfully returns the notices, explaining the situation, but they keep coming just the same. Stories about children also have special appeal. There was the boy in a Sabbath school class for 5-year-olds whose rabbi asked the group, ''What is a miracle?'' The pupil raised his hand and said, ''A miracle happens when people are nice to each other!'' Fortunately, if that is the correct definition, lots of miracles happen in Great Neck, and they are recorded with glee by Betty Rosenzweig in her ''Clock'' columns, each of which takes her from four to eight hours to complete.The columnist was born Betty Englander in Brooklyn, the youngest of three sisters. Soon thereafter the family moved to accommodate her father's professional obligations as an engineer who built bridges. They continued to move all over the eastern United States and Canada throughout her childhood and young womanhood. When she was 4, they found themselves in a town the only kindergarten of which was French-speaking. ''I thought I wasn't supposed to understand what the teacher said in school,'' said Ms. Rosenzweig.Soon thereafter, however, she discovered what school was really about, and she learned apace. She was not yet 15 when she applied for a job on a newspaper in Kingsport, Tennessee, where her family was then residing. She told the editor that she wanted to be a reporter. He hired her to deliver advertising copy for approval to various town businesses. ''I always made it a point to deliver the copy of the movie house ads at about 1 p.m.,'' she said, ''so that I could then stay and see the matinee.''Ms. Englander, as she was then, attended Goddard College, in Vermont, in a work-study program. She was particularly interested in photography, a family vocation that went back to her grandmother. Then she met Martin Rosenzweig at a Greenwich Village art show. He and she hit it off at once. They both enrolled in the Institute of Design. They were married shortly thereafter.The Rosenzweigs have two children, a daughter, Micki Rosenzweig Tiffen, a marketing expert, and a son, Tony Rosenzweig, a physician, and five grandchildren: Ross, 6  and Jesse Tiffen, 4 and Leah, 9, Paul, 7 and Alison Rosenzweig, 3.''I hope everyone will feel free to call me with anecdotes, funny, sad, surprising. They're all helpful,'' said Ms. Rosenzweig, whose phone number is 466-8826. ''Everybody has a story that's worth sharing.''captionBETTY ROSENZWEIGgnr betty-5 feb 5 kreitzman spellcheck 21 inches