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July 30, 1992 - Driving West Through Rural MemoriesJuly 30, 1992 • The Suffolk Times • 7A Driving West Through Rural Memories By Paul Stoutenburgh Today started with a pale, misty veil lying over the back pasture. The wind- mill stood limp and frozen in the break- ing dawn. No sound of birds or chickens crowing. The day was about to Focus begin. It was so magical that i sat on Nature and watched as the precious pink of that day was stripped away from the hold of the rising sun. What seemed like minutes turned the early glow into a pale and whitish scene. Then, the blades of the windmill slowly started to turn. The voice of a chattering wren aroused a symphony of early and varied songs and like a cymbal crash the rooster let the world know a new day had started. Now, with the brighter light, the jeweled dew on the lawn could be seen. I'd gotten up early to shave and show- er and prepare for a trip into the city where Barbara was staying with her sis- ter. I'd leave about 9 to miss the main stream of congestion that explodes as the West End heads for work and the endless trucks of all sires and shapes flow to and from the city to keep it supplied with the necessities of' life. I'd take the express- way and probably become entangled in some sort of road construction that seems always to be going on. If one ever figures the cost of new road construction I hope they include maintenance; like taxes, it will never cease and never become less. As I pulled out of the driveway and headed for the Main Road I passed an area that was once a lush, green salt marsh. Before we knew better the area was filled and two new houses built upon it. Just a bit farther along I'm greeted by a new complex of stoplights. The sign of changing times. Yet the Old Burial Ground on my left is well kept and gives me an assurance that not everything moves at a rapid pace. Gas Stations Have Changed The gas stations have not only changed hands but the golden -glow gas names remind me little of the old and friendly faces that used to greet us as we pulled up. No longer is the conversation about Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh STEAM ENGINE —We live in a changing world. At one time steam engines like the one above made regular stops along the North and South shores. "How's fishing ?" or "How'd you like the rain last night ?" Today it's just "Please fill it up." Down the road is a big shopping mall with acres of blacktop and glistening cars spread out around it. Here once was farmland and the Old Cider Mill. Many a free glass of cider we kids would get from an old wooden spigot just inside the mill. An old potato farm across the street now raises grapes and a small section has been set aside to grow flowers that are gobbled up by the hungry summer trade who want a piece of the natural world. How our world is changing about us. I pass the road where I went to school years ago. It's the same old brick build- ing but now has outbuildings to take care of the ever - increasing school population. On the comer where the local gas station once stood is a spit -and- polish new gold- en -glow gas station with its look -alike appearance and facade. To the left a new store is being built where once our only bus driver used to live. Then I spot an old familiar landmark 78 Years Ago Aug. 1, 1914 Another Band Excursion: The Greenport Cornet Band will give one more excursion to New London Thurs- day, Aug. 13, on the Steamer Wyandotte. Besides the fine day's outing and sightseeing, the band will try and excel the fine programme of music rendered on their last excursion, which was so highly appreciated by all those present. Tick- et, 75 cents; children 6 to 12 years, 35 cents. Editor Killed by Auto: Charles A. Jagger, formerly editor of the Southampton Press and later of Southampton Magazine, was killed Tuesday afternoon when his car swerved to one side of the road and turned completely over, burying Mr. Jagger in the ruins. The editor died that same afternoon. He was 52 years old and leaves a wife and two daughters. Mr. Jagger was a graduate of Princeton and of Heidelburg University, Germany. He appeared in Greenport in the play, "Shore Acres," for the benefit of the hospital several months ago. 50 Years Ago July 30, 1942 Thirty Children in Musical: On Aug. 7, the Greenport unit of the Eastern Long Island Hospital Auxil- iary is sponsoring an entertainment known as the Broadway — a huge beech tree probably well over 150 years old still standing and shower- ing its radiance on all those who pass. It's in front of one of the old homes that has remained the same. I remembered back to the old days when we would sneak through the bushes from school to buy penny candies and pads at the little store inside the house where a frail little old lady stood behind her glass cabinets that held those tempting candies our pen- nies could buy. Melting Memories Our village hasn't expanded that much through the years. Lots of face lifting and shifting of businesses but that's about all. The only local person who stuck it out is a plumber and his building remains exactly the same as it was when his father ran the business. No longer can you go into the drug store and get an ice cream soda. Oh, how we kids used to like to walk up the mile - and -a -half road from down on the bay in the evening to buy a half -pint of ice Revue, vastly different from anything ever presented in the Village of Greenport. This will not be an amateur produc- tion. The cast of about 30 children, ranging from 8 to 20, are pupils from the school of Mrs. Marie Moser of New York City. A number of these young people are relatives of famous movie stars. One member of the cast, 8 -year -old Bobbie Long, a tap dancer, has already received a contract from Metro- Goldwyn -Mayer Studios. This group recently presented an entertainment at Shelter Island, which was so enthusiastically received that the ELIH auxiliary arranged to have the students appear in Greenport. State Enforces Speed Limit: The 40 -mile speed limit on New York State highways means just that — 40 miles an hour. The state police stated, "If any motor vehicle exceeds this limit by so much as one mile an hour, a sum- mons should be issued or an arrest made." 25 Years Ago Aug. 5, 1967 N.Y. Times Editor Speaks Here: For the 15th consecutive year, the Greenport Rotary Club was privileged to have as its guest speaker, Herman Dinsmore, former for- eign editor of The New York Times. Mr. Dinsmore, also a former Greenport resident, defended the United States war in Vietnam as a necessary stand against world domination by communism. cream and then eat it slowly, ever so slowly on our way back. The half -pint of ice cream probably cost less than an ice cream cone does today. The post office moved to a new loca- tion and is a far cry from the old one that had its set of glass - fronted boxes with their combination locks. Ours was easy to remember. You'd turn the little hands to MD and you could open the door and get your mail. There was no such thing as rural delivery then. The black -oiled floor was swept daily and kept neat and prop- er. There was the postmaster who knew everyone personally and probably knew more about the people in town than any- one else. Thinking back, we even had a railroad station when I was a kid, but for some reason (I guess they called it economy), the station was taken down. What a sta- tion it was. One of those architectural gems with fancy work around the edges and painted a cream color. Inside was the stationmaster who tended the telegraph. I can still hear the "clickety clickety click!" as the old pot - bellied stove glowed in the center. The train stopped there without a building for years and then for more economy our town was taken off the rail- road map and we go to neighboring towns to catch the train today. The firehouse has remained in the same location but now boasts another addition that can make every fireman proud. The noon siren hasn't changed `There was the postmaster who knew everyone personally and probably knew more about the people in town than anyone else.' either and each day it reminds us that we belong to a town that, like so many of you, we are proud of. Each of us has roots in our own town that we cling to almost as dearly as family, but change is the universal law and no one minds that, provided sound planning goes along with it. Once on the expressway the tape deck goes on and another reading book takes me away from the busy highway.