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February 12, 2009 - Recalling a Depression boyhoodFebruary 12, 2009 • The Suffolk Times • 7A Recalling a Depression boyhood During the time of the Great Depression, a time similar to what we are experiencing today, we kids didn't seem to be aware of it. We thought it normal to cut wood to heat the house and to use hand -me -down clothes, and to walk to school seemed to be the natural thing to do. It was a time a penny or two in your pocket made you feel better off than most. Brown paper bag lunches with peanut butter and homemade jelly sandwiches were always there- Mom always found something special to put into our lunch bags — it might have been a hard candy left over from Christmas; or a penny lollipop; or Chiclets that later in the day required a special skill when chewing, for in Miss Hand's class, chewing definitely was not allowed. No matter what it was, the goodies in the brown paper bag never made it to the lunch table. To me, things ran pretty smoothly in our family. Now some would say that's impossible, but as far as I was concerned, we lived in a world of harmony -The one thing that made life easier for me was that I had a sister, Marg, who did just about FOCUS everything we boys did. We walked a good mile to school to- ON gether, kept our mutual friend- ship on an even keel and hardly NATURE ever got into what kids called a real fight. by Paul Because of the hard times we Stoutenburgh never thought twice about what to wear- I'd wear whatever was available. At the end of the school year shoes came off and pretty well stayed off until fall, when school started up again. We spent much of our time down at the bay swimming and just kibitzing around. We knew where the crabs were and how to catch them - Gums could be dug almost anywhere and oysters were yours for the picking - It seemed Marg and I were forever getting our feet cut, particularly when we first took our shoes off and our feet hadn't had time to toughen up. By the end of the summer the bottoms of our feet were almost as tough as leather. We always kept an eye out for a cut with a red line that indicated infection, meaning possible trouble ahead. I can still see my mother steril- izing a needle over a flame and probing the cut to find the culprit that caused that red line. We lived in an area in Cutchogue called Fleets Neck that was named after Mr. Fleet, who owned most of the land from the Main Road to the bay. He lived in a beautiful old home up on the Main Road that's since been torn down. Fleets Neck was an area the Fleets were developing with roads and utilities.They even named one of the roads "Stoutenburgh Road," as my dad was the first to build on it. It stayed that way until others built on it, and then it was changed to Glen- wood Road. The original name can still be found on some of the lighting company maps As a kid I can remember where a farmer grew rows and rows of asparagus All that asparagus looked pret- ty good to me. My dad had shown me where to look for "wild" asparagus, and many a bundle I picked, but seeing that field of cultivated asparagus was too much for a young boy to pass by. So I sneaked into the long, Suffolk Times photos by Barbara Stoutenburgh Wherever or whenever Barbara and I travel we carry our cameras with us just in case that special photo turns up. neat rows of asparagus and started helping myself. All went well until out of the corner of my eye I saw the farmer running toward me! I dropped what I had gathered and headed as fast as I could toward the woods. The trouble was, Mr. Farmer was hot on my heels waving a big stick over his head. Never had I been so scared. I was sure I was going to be caught. This was the hard way a small boy was going to learn right from wrong. I ran just as fast as I could through the woods until I came to where there was a low depression in the earth with bushes around it. I dove in, throwing leaves, sticks and anything I could grab to put over me- On the farmer came; he was heading As my straight for me. I thought my heart would opened burst and for those awful moments I held my breath. Then I realized my pursuer me had charged right past me. on I didn't twitch an eyelid. I must have stayed there for what seemed like an hour or so before inching my cramped body from my hiding place. As I said earlier, this lesson of right from wrong was one I'd never forget. From the bay to the Main Road huge stately trees lined the roadway called Pequash Avenue. I remember that some of those trees were catalpa trees, with their long, slender seed pods As we boys grew a little older and bolder, those seed pods of the catalpas intrigued us, so we tried smoking a small section of one. Need- less to say, that experience was tried only once. We kids often camped out down at the Point at the end of East Road on Fleets Neck- Lying there when all was quiet, we often heard owls calling. It wasn't until Z later, when I found a screech owl's nest, that I knew what one looked like. In those early days, a big bird I flushed was just that — a big bird.Then, as my world opened around me, things took on new meaning. That big bird became a mallard duck. As I wandered the woods, the pink flower with the odd bulb became an orchid called a lady slipper. The small, sand- colored bird that played tricks, mimicking a broken wing, I learned was called a piping plover and it nested on our beaches Books and magazines about birds were ferreted out. My dad introduced me to hunting, for in those lean years rabbits, squirrels, ducks and geese, o rld along with clams, oysters, scallops, etc., around provided food on the table. Hunting opened up a whole new world of enlight- enment for me; black ducks, mallards, bufflehead, oldsquaw and others gave me not only food on the table but exposed me to new experiences and gave new meaning to the pulsating life that surrounded me. As time went by and little kids became bigger kids I found myself in high school and gaining more and more interest in photography. Our science teacher, Mr. Dart, started up a photography club that took us into the amazing world of darkroom magic. My first real camera was a German -made Exacta - I spent one whole summer working at Sayre's garage in Southold to earn money enough to buy my first through -thc -lens reflex camera; thus started my deep interest in photography, and at 87 years I still have that yearning to enjoy the natural world around me and to possibly capture it on film. , things took new meaning. 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During the time of the Great Depression, a time Similar to what we are experiencing today, we kids didn't seem to be aware of it. We thought it normal to cut wood to heat the house -and to use hand -me -down clothes, and to walk to school seemed to be the natural thing to do. It was a time a penny or two in your pocket made you feel better off than most. Brown paper bag lunches with peanut butter and homemade -jelly sandwiches were always there. Mom always found something special to put into our lunch bags — it might have been a hard candy left over from Christmas; or a penny lollipop; or Chiclets that later in the day required a special skill when chewing, for in Miss Hand's class, chewing definitely was not allowed. No matter what it was, the goodies in the brown paper bag never made it to the lunch to e. To me, things ran pretty smoothly in our family. Now some would say that's impossible, but as far as I was concerned, we lived in a world of harmony. The one thing that made life easier for me was that I had a sister, Marg, who did just about FOCUS everything we boys did. We walked a good mile to school to ON gether, kept our mutual friend- ship on an even keel and hardly NATURE ever got into what kids called a by Paul real fight. Stoutenburgh Because of the hard times we never thought twice about what to wear. I'd wear whatever was neat rows of asparagus and started helping myseir. All went well until out of the corner of my eye I saw the farmer running toward me! I dropped what I had gathered and headed as fast as I could toward the woods. The trouble was, Mr. Farmer was hot on my heels waving a big stick over his head. Never had I been so scared. I was sure I was going to be caught. This was the hard way a small boy was going to learn right from wrong. I ran just as fast as I could through the woods until I available. At the end o t e sc oo years oes came off and pretty well stayed off until fall, when school came to where there was a low depression in the earth with bushes around it. I dove. in, throwing leave sticks started up again. We spent much of our time down at and anything I could grab to put over the bay swimming and just kibitzing around. We knew On the farmer came; he was heading where the crabs were and how to catch them. Clams straight for me. I thought my heart would s tr could be dug almost anywhere and oysters were yours burst and for those awful moments I held for the picking. It seemed Marg and I were forever getting our feet my breath. Then I realized my pursuer had charged right past me. cut, particularly when we first took our shoes off and I didn't twitch an eyelid. I must have our feet hadn't had time to toughen up. By the end stayed there for what seemed like an hour or so before of the summer the bottoms of our feet were almost inching my cramped body from my hiding place. As I as tough as leather. We always kept an eye out fora said earlier, this lesson of right from wrong was one I'd cut with a red line that indicated infection, meaning never forget. possible trouble ahead. I can still see my mother steril- From the bay to the Main Road huge stately trees izing a needle over a flame and probing the cut to find lined the roadway called Pequash Avenue. I remember the culprit that caused that red line. We lived in an area in at red gue called Fleets Neck that some of those trees were catalpa trees, with their long, slender seed pods. As we boys grew a little older that was named after Mr. Fleet, who owned most of and bolder, those seed pods of the catalpas intrigued the land from the Main Road to the bay. He lived in a us, so we tried smoking a small section of one. Need - beautiful old home up on the Main Road that's since less to say, that experience was tried only once. been torn down. Fleets Neck was an area the Fleets We kids often camped out down at the Point at the were developing with roads and utilities. They even end of East Road on Fleets Neck. Lying there when all named one of the roads "Stoutenburgh Road," as my was uiet, we often heard owls calling. It wasn t until dad was the first to build on it. It stayed that way until others built on it, and then it was changed to Glen- wood Road. The original name can still be found on later, when I found a screech owl's nest, that I knew some of the lighting company maps. As a kid I can remember y ap a farmer grew rows what one looked like. In those early days, a big bird I flushed was just that and rows of asparagus. All that asparagus looked pret- — a big bird. Then, as my world opened around me, ty good to me. My dad had shown me where to look "wild" things took on new meaning. That big bird became a mallard duck. As I wandered the woods, the pink for asparagus, and many a bundle I picked, but seeing that field of cultivated asparagus was too much flower with the odd bulb became an orchid called a for a young boy to pass by. So I sneaked into the long, lady slipper. The small, sand- colored bird that played tricks, mimicking a broken wing, I learned was called a piping plover and it nested on our beaches. Books and magazines about birds were ferreted out. M dad introduced me to hunting, for in those lean AS m world years rabbits, squirrels, ducks and geese, Y along with clams, oysters, scallops, etc., opened around provided food on the table. Hunting me, things took opened up a whole new world of enlight- enment for me; black ducks, mallards, on new meanin bufflehead, oldsquaw and others gave me not only food on the table but exposed me to new experiences and gave new meaning to the pulsating life that surrounded me. As time went by and little kids became bigger kids I found myself in high school and gaining more and more interest in photography. Our science teacher, Mr. Dart, started up a photography club that took us into the amazing world of darkroom magic. My first real camera was a German -made Exacta. I spent one whole summer working at Sayre's garage in Southold to earn money enough to buy my first through- the -lens reflex camera; thus started my deep interest in photography, and at 87 years I still have that yearning to enjoy the natural world around me and to possibly capture it on film.