Long Island, New York

uesday, July 29, 2008. Today I went “back home” to Northport, Long Island (LI) where I grew up. Since 1962 when I officially left (I married Eddie in 1962 and stayed in Los Angeles where he was from), I have only been back to Northport (on the map) once––in 1994 with Eddie––and only for a very short visit of several hours. I was very nervous about going back home––a truly emotionally trying experience. I left Penn Station in Manhattan early in the morning to take the train to Huntington Station, near Northport. You now catch the Long Island Rail Road (LIRR) one level below where you used to catch it and there no longer is that wonderful train man standing at the gate announcing, in his great New York accent, all the train’s stops. The trains now look like subway trains but are more comfortable. I wasn’t too happy about the “Watch the Gap” gap between the station platform and the train, especially having to navigate it with an overloaded carry–on bag (the London Tube’s “Mind the Gap” has nothing on the LIRR’s “Watch the Gap”). There are now two tracks coming into Huntington and my train came in on the track that you had to exit by crossing an overhang over the first track––simple enough except that the elevator to take you down to the station level was not working. I thought that I would have to carry my overloaded suitcase down some very steep steps before I realized that I could take a circular trek down a three–story car garage. Problem solved, but it made me wonder if I really shouldn’t have made the trip to LI.

Long Island, New York

Chalet Motor Inn

I took a taxi from Huntington Station to Budget Rent A Car where I had reserved an economy car. I had read that even if you reserve this level of car it is doubtful that you will get it because everyone now wants one because of the gas crisis. I wasn’t wrong––I had my pick of any of the gas–guzzling SUVs in the lot. I picked the smallest one––a Hundai that I first thought was a Honda. It was loaded––satellite radio, sunroof, four–wheel drive, etc. I was very pleased with it. I had the GPS that I rented direct me to the Chalet Motor Inn in Centerport (near Northport) where I would stay for the next 5 nights. (The Chalet Motor Inn is expanding and by next year is due to include a pool and waterfront dining.)

Chalet Motor Inn

Centerport Harbor

If you cross the street from the Chalet Motor Inn, there is this beautiful harbor.

Centerport Harbor

You Can Go Home Again

Next stop, to see old boyfriend and now old friend Doody Lindstadt (Doody got his name from looking like Howdy Doody when he was growing up––the name stuck and he likes it). He has an office on 25A, so I knew where to find him. I knew what he looked like from photos that he has sent to my sister and brother–in–law (that’s him in this photo), but he didn’t know what I looked like (I hadn’t seen Doody in over 45 years) and I told people not to tell him I was coming. I had great fun shocking people with my presence in Northport. But he guessed who I was almost immediately by my voice––I had talked to him twice by phone in all those years. His office is the daily meeting place for old Northporters––and I met a number of them while I was at his office. It was great fun hearing all those New York accents and listening to that New York humor––something I really have missed. Doody said that he never would live in California because of our earthquakes. I told him that we hadn’t had one for a very long time, so all was okay. I said goodbye to Doody and had just gotten in my car when my daughter called me from NYC––”Mom, Los Angeles has just had a major earthquake!” I went back into Doody’s office and tried to find some information about it from the Internet, then went back to the Chalet Motor Inn to listen to CNN. I couldn’t get in touch with my family back home as their phones were blocked. I also couldn’t even call my daughter back in Manhattan as her phone was also blocked because she had an LA prefix. But eventually I got through and was told that my house was undamaged. The last major earthquake we had in LA was in 1994, the same year that Eddie and I were in Northport, though a few months before our trip––eerie. Again, I was really wondering if I should have come back to LI––I spent much of my first day there worrying about my house in LA.

You Can Go Home Again

Northport

After knowing that my house was okay, I ventured out again to visit Northport Village. On my way, on 25A, I passed the old Crab Shack. Lots of crabbing here.

Northport

Northport Village

When I left Northport, it was still a small, not quite suburban town, and every small American town has a main street––for Northport, it really is called Main Street. I walked up and down Main Street and have put my photos of it on a slide show on this website: Go to Slide Shows, United States, New York, “Northport:  Main Street.” For those of you who remember Northport in the “old days,” you will be surprised at its new yuppie look. (I took photos of Northport Harbor two days later when the sun was in a better position.)

Northport Village

Going to Montauk Point

Wednesday, July 30, 2008: This morning I left the Chalet Motor Inn at 7:15 a.m. to travel the 81 miles to the farthest eastern point on Long Island––Montauk Point. I took the slow route along 25A. I didn’t stop to take many photos enroute as I planned to take them on my way back––which didn’t turn out too well (more later). One of the photos that I did take––of the Smithtown Bull. In 1665, Richard Smith, an English settler and founder of Smithtown, made a deal with the local Indians. They told him that he could keep whatever land he could ride around in one day––that is, on his bull named Whisper. Smith actually made a 55–mile circle on his choice of a day––the longest day of the year. My father often told me this story when we were at this very corner––then, there was no bull statue and there was nothing except trees here.

Going to Montauk Point

Going to Montauk Point

Witch at a nursery.

Going to Montauk Point

Going to Montauk Point

A house with its own McDonald’s.

Going to Montauk Point

Going to Montauk Point

The Big Duck in Flanders, built by a duck farmer as advertisement. When its store is open, you can buy LI memorabilia here and also get tourist information. When I grew up on Long Island, most of the land was for farming, especially for growing LI potatoes. I didn’t see a farm until I was almost at Riverhead––where the two forks at the end of the island meet.

Going to Montauk Point

Montauk Point

With stopping for gas and getting a bit lost even with my GPS, it took me three hours to drive the 81 miles to Montauk Point (perhaps it is a bit longer distance taking the slow route). One major hold–up was going through East Hampton––a two–lane section of the road with many stoplights and too many cars. Photo: The Montauk Lighthouse at Montauk Point. Lots of memories for me at Montauk Point––my parents used to take visitors from the city out to Montauk Point for picnics on the beach.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

Montauk Point Lighthouse sign––the lighthouse was commissioned by President George Washington in 1796.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

The lighthouse has been the subject of many paintings and it is great to photograph from different angles. The views from its top are probably spectacular––you need to climb up a very winding metal staircase to get to its top. I never climbed up but I remember the staircase being of highly polished wood––I asked workers there if they remembered when the wooden staircase was replaced. No one knew or even remembered it being at one time a wooden one. Another photo of the lighthouse.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

And another one.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

Statue at the lighthouse with the inscription: “In remembrance of those lost at sea while fishing these waters.”

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

The lighthouse caretaker’s house.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

Looking out to sea––the Atlantic Ocean.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

The lighthouse from a different angle.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

This could have been the beach where we had our picnics.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

Or it could have been this beach on the other side of the point, but I don’t remember it being rocky.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

The lighthouse from this beach.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

A posing seagull.

Montauk Point

Montauk Point

Map of where we are––the white section on the left the bottom Connecticut, and on the left top, Rhode Island. And I became stuck here. I was ready to go back to town of Montauk at 11:15 a.m. to have lunch (Montauk Point has a restaurant now but it was not open yet). However, my top–of–the–line SUV started having car trouble––it would drive okay for about 50 feet and then not want to move. I called Budget Rent A Car roadside assistance and was told that it would probably be about four or five hours until they could bring me a new car. Actually, it was 6 p.m. when they arrived––they had come all the way from LaGuardia Airport (right across from Manhattan) to Montauk––a distance of 116 miles. They also kept getting lost as neither driver had ever been this far out on the island. Making things worse, it was hard to find a place to stand to get a cell phone signal to keep in touch with roadside assistance. I really knew now that I was taking a real chance on going home again, but, then, I knew I was lucky that the car broke down where there were people, a restaurant, and a public phone if I couldn’t call out on my cell.

Montauk Point

Going Back to Northport

Anyway, I was able to take off a 6 p.m. in my new economy rental car: a Chevrolet Impala. I knew I was recovered from this day’s events when I saw something I wanted to take a photo of and I stopped to take it. A farm with many geese in its pasture.

Going Back to Northport

Going Back to Northport

I also took this photo of one of East Hampton’s windmills. I got back to Northport at 8:30 p.m., missing a wonderful invitation to meet my friend Jane Boudreau at Sunken Meadow State Park for a lobster fest. I found a pizza parlor in Northport where to have a late dinner.

Going Back to Northport