Remembering Sag Harbor Summers

Sag Harbor Summers

Here we are at the unofficial start of the season and the memories of old Sag Harbor summers return. It was a utopia for beach days and farmstands, marshmallows and kickball. Sunlit days that extended far beyond dinner time allowed for an additional daily escapade outdoors. No air-conditioning and all of our windows open wide invited in the night sounds - crickets and katydids and wind moving through the marsh grass and the tall oak trees. The intermittent sparkle of fireflies filled the starlit nights with the magic of childhood and nature, awe and wonder with a reminder that all of life traveled in cycles – and nothing was forever.

For Memorial Day we would get red, white and blue streamers and weave them between the spokes of our bicycles and ride in the parade along with the veterans, the scouts, the high school band, our volunteer firefighters and a long line of fire trucks. Being included in this reverent event in some small way made us feel very important indeed.

Every summer there were swimming lessons at Haven’s Beach where you were sure to run into the long tentacles of jellyfish and wade through lots of tall eel grass as you tried to master the basic strokes. The tides were so low at times that you had to walk out nearly a mile before you could get your feet off of the ground. I wonder how many of us ever did get our feet off the ground in order to pass the basic test. But there we all were –doing the ‘chicken-airplane-soldier’ back stroke - our parents determined to keep us safe in a village surrounded by the sea.

And who could forget ‘Park School’ at Mashashimuet - playing Knock-Hockey and dodging into the Grand Stand when the summer rain began to fall? Remember the sound of downpours on the roof there? What a wonderful feeling to be so close to the elements while still being protected from the storm. Dozens of us were dropped off there each day to spend a few hours with friends and give our parents a chance to grocery shop and breathe.

The Hampton Drive-In Movie Theater in Bridgehampton had to be one of our favorite places. Filling up the old Ford station wagon with as many of us that could fit -I don’t think there were seatbelt laws back then. We’d often go in our pajamas and during the intermission when an advertisement of soda, candy and popcorn appeared on the big screen-we’d all dash out of the car toward the playground-where among other things they had horse swings - and a bunch of pajamaed kids running around until the lights flashed signaling that the movie was about to begin again. The ground was hilly in order to allow you to park the car at an optimal vantage point and the metal speaker fit rather precariously into your window. I’m not sure what I liked more, the movie or the freedom I felt on that playground. When we were in high school, they aired all-night ‘Planet of the Apes’ marathons. That Drive-In theater was a pinnacle gathering place and memory maker for our childhoods.

Long summer days at Long Beach where ‘bottle fish’ seemed to always take a bite out of at least one of your toes, invited in all of Sag Harbor. Every summer we’d go to the ‘5 and 10’ to get my mom one of those canvas inflatable floats with the white strings for her birthday in July. We spent many days there in the salty water-swimming out to the barrel and searching for jingle shells and tiny spiral shells in the sand. There was the Oasis, a food shack, where the floor was filled with beach sand from our bare feet running in and out for a treat. And of course, there was the Good Humor ice cream truck- and do you remember the candy crunch ice cream bars with the solid chocolate bar inside? The truck had a bell back then rather than the digital music loop that now plays. I can still feel the excitement of hearing that bell heading our way-and after much pleading we’d all run up to the roadside and watch and wait for his approach. Up and down the road kids were lined up tilting their heads toward the sound of the bell. The stones and shells near the road making it hard on our young feet - too anxious to take the time to find our dime store flipflops.

Our family would gather now and then at Left Sagg for a beach picnic and smore making soiree. We would search for toads in the dunes and each find our own perfect marshmallow roasting stick. We learned young how to respect the ocean and carefully maneuver the waves. There were summer days that we would be nearly the only family on the entire beach. No parking stickers needed.

During snapper season we’d all get to the Hardware store to buy a yet another bamboo pole. Long Wharf would be lined with young fishermen and fisherwomen. Everyone was filled with the excitement of watching that little red and white bobber being pulled down into the sea by a shiny silver snapper at the end of our lines. The waters seemed to be teaming with fish as many of our families lived on fresh fish and vegetables- the bounty of the earth.

Once I learned how to properly write my name, I went to the John Jermain Library to get my very own library card-I think we all did. It became a significant milestone of growing-up and taking our place in the world. That card got stamped and placed in the pocket of every book I was able to borrow. I can remember the feeling of excitement bringing those treasured books with the shiny plastic covers home and how carefully we were reminded to care for them. There was story time as well which seemed like a very special gathering where time stood still.

The Whaler’s Festival was the big event of summer with a huge parade and whaleboat races. International teams would come from Europe to compete. There were rides like the ‘King Kong’ ride on the wharf and little shops set up where you could purchase tiny trinkets and stop for a hotdog or a candy apple.

The carnival came to town every summer and set up on the land where the post office is or across the street where the once 7-11 building stands. I remember one of the booths gave out little tiny loaves of wonder bread as prizes. I can still see the cotton candy machine whirl its magic into a pink sugary hive that we waited all year for. There was also the Saint Andrew’s Fair with the Cake Booth and the Parcel Post Booth - where the wheel spun and you sent up a prayer that it might land on your number. I still remember the string of purple beads I won at the parcel post booth. That was one lucky day!

Summer in Sag Harbor was enchanting, magical, soulful – and I often ponder if having to live through those once long, harsh, lonely winters didn’t make it even more perfect. A childhood that I can close my eyes and easily revisit - filled with little but wonder.