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.