Readers Recall Their Wonder Years

Letters have been edited for clarity and brevity.

A Kennedy Moment

In the late '50s and early '60s, I was a carrier for Newsday in Wantagh. The paper was a nickel then, and a quarter tip was considered generous. One damp and drizzling Saturday, instead of getting the papers delivered, I was at the Wantagh train station. (This was before the train was elevated.) It had been announced that the Democratic presidential candidate would make a stop and speak. The scheduled time was early in the afternoon, but as usual, things were delayed. I was around 13 at the time, and the only president I could remember looked like my grandfather. Suddenly the train pulled in and this young man said a few words, shook a few hands, and the train left. I caught hell when I got home because my father and brother had to deliver my route, but seeing John F. Kennedy up close is something I will never forget. It is ironic that I have taught social studies for the last 29 years at John F. Kennedy High School in Bellmore.

--Alan Fleishman, Seaford

His Paradise Lost

As a young boy in the '50s in South Oceanside, our world was a natural paradise. We were surrounded by vacant waterfront lots, with piers to fish and swim from. The wetlands rolled out from our bedroom window like a lush green carpet, and I could easily see the Jones Beach Tower and Coast Guard station. Our summers were filled with rudimentary raft- and boat-building. There was a watersports-oriented day camp nearby, but we couldn't figure out why anyone would pay for all this; it was available to us for free! The town built Oceanside Park in the early '60s, and it was empty for the first few summers: Why would anyone build an organized place to play amid all this natural splendor! Then we began to hear the incessant thrumming of the dredges and the rap! rap! rap! of the pile drivers, and in rapid fashion overdevelopment killed all these opportunities for the next generation.

--Keith L. Andoos, Baldwin

Old Days in East Northport

I grew up in East Northport during the 1960s and graduated from St. Anthony's grade school in 1971. During this time, East Northport developed tremendously. Potato farms, sod farms and fields disappeared and became housing developments almost overnight. Among the landmarks I remember: the old pickle works, a big, old wood-frame building located next to the railroad tracks where the commuter parking lot is now, and the "old" East Northport library. I was glad to see that our new library has the same steel bicycle rack that we used many years ago.

--Christopher Dee, East Northport

Those Old Houses

My family and I moved to Plainview in 1953 . . . In my mind I can picture Old Country Road with one lane in each direction. There were what we kids would call "haunted houses," which were only abandoned homes that we would trespass through and play and pretend in.

--Lynne Newman Stolls, Bethpage

Navigating by Bicycle

I grew up in the '50s in Carle Place, then Glen Cove. I remember the sonic booms coming from Mitchel Field, picnicking at Salisbury Park and going to the first McDonald's on Old Country Road. We'd ride our bikes from town to town playing pick-up games, and fights would be fought only with fists.

--Larry Eisenoff, Los Angeles

One Year, Three Schools

My freshman year began at Hicksville High in September, 1952. In 1953, after many hours of practice, I was so proud to have been chosen for the varsity cheering squad on my very first tryout. Football season began and I was enjoying my life. About three tofour months into the 1953 school year, boundary lines were changed and our home was suddenly located in Syosset. I was compelled to leave Hicksville High. There was no high school in Syosset then, and I began attending Glen Cove High, transported daily by taxi and bus. A few months passed and I was again relocated into Oyster Bay High -- three schools in one year -- what an experience that was! Luckily, I remained in Oyster Bay and graduated in 1956.

--Barbara Pompa, Woodbury

The Mineola Skating Rink

I grew up in what is now Uniondale, just east of Hempstead. In September, the schools closed for a day (or half a day) so all the students could go to the Mineola Fair. There were chickens, ducks, rabbits, all kinds of prize animal exhibits, farm produce, sewing, baked goods, rides and Indians. There also were events held in the big wooden grandstand. From 1950 to 1954 the Mineola Skating Rink was my favorite hangout. I was crazy about skating; I went three nights a week. There was a "live" organist, couples-only numbers, trios, dance numbers, games and prizes. There was a dress code for guys and gals. Gals had to wear skirts or skating dresses, and they could be no shorter than the middle of the knee. Guys were not allowed to wear jeans or T-shirts. The rink was a fixture for many years until it was torn down to make way for more court buildings.

--Marianne Marshall Spangler, Northport

Cool Times in Elmont

In July, 1956, we moved to a Cape Cod house in Elmont. As a teen, we were never at a loss for things to do. We hung out at the Argo Lanes bowling alley, and sometimes bowled; had a great local park, the Elmont Road Park, to play handball, softball or just hang out! The schools and church organizations always had dances with local bands. It was really cool when they were your friends!

--Kathleen Goff Meade, Coram

On Vanderbilt's Road

We grew up in the development homes south of Grumman in Bethpage. [William K.] Vanderbilt [II] never envisioned that the Motor Parkway he built through the farms of Long Island would become the source and road to adventure for kids growing up in the '50s and '60s. We would ride our banana-seat Sting-Ray bikes along the roadbed, and the first banked curves of a road in the United States on our way to Polliwogs Pond and Triangle Pond. On the way back we would stop to show the tadpoles and frogs to the gate tender at the railroad crossing on Central Avenue.

--Lawrence W. Leek, Huntington

A Safe Feeling

I was raised in Sound Beach on the North Shore of Suffolk. At the time I didn't realize what a wonderful place Long Island was to live. You left your house unlocked, keys in the car, and you knew everyone who lived in your community. My brother and I could go off on our bikes or into the woods on adventures. When it was time to come home, Mom would "holler" out the back door and we would hear her wherever we were. One didn't worry about kids being abducted or abused; we had a freedom that my children today do not have.

--Kathleen B. Weisinger, Setauket

Mitchel Field of Dreams

I lived on a dead-end street that bordered the uninhabited barracks of Mitchel Field. The area was forbidden territory, but my brothers and I would often engage in clandestine "spy missions" in order to keep our country free from invasion. The creek that flowed along what is now Meadowbrook Parkway was the dividing line between us and them. If we made it across, the world was saved. The barracks were eventually knocked down, leaving delicate fields of tall grass. My father would take us down there to hunt rabbits. We never did catch any; I suppose that was his plan. But we did learn to use a bow and arrow and became quite proficient at shooting discarded debris. In the winter, the creek would freeze and we would ice skate and sleigh-ride down the hills and into the trees. Summertime was baseball season. We cleared an area, made four bases and played day and night for months.

--Cynthia Carroll, West Islip

'Two Films for a Buck!'

The "Happy Days" spirit was alive and well in the Mineola area. As teenagers, fun awaited us at every turn as we hopped into our boyfriends' sharp convertibles and flame-nosed hot rods and cruised on down to the Mineola roller-skating rink. Couples showed off their dance routines, and we all whirled round and round to the sound of organ music. On weekends, we'd flock to the Mineola Movie and see our favorite stars (two films for a buck!). Afterwards, we'd hang out at Ringen's Ice Cream Parlor on Jericho Turnpike, sit in those well-worn booths, listen to the latest rock-and-roll hits on the jukebox . . . sip cherry Cokes and egg creams, while making plans to meet the next morning at the Mineola railroad station, and head on out to New York City and Alan Freed's rock-and-roll show.

--Brenda N. Sasso, East Williston

Kings Park Submarine Races

I was born and raised in Kings Park. Summers were spent at Callahans Beach, Fort Salonga. Submarine watching took place down at the bluff in Kings Park, where the Old Dock Inn Restaurant and a huge blacktop parking lot for boating now stands. Our favorite food after a movie was pizza and a Coke. Favorite pastime: stock car racing at Islip Speedway. We were truly a very social generation who solved all the world's and everyday problems over French fries and a Coke!

--Iris Taibbi, Shirley

Skating at Bald Hill

The sunlit mornings I can always remember at Crystal Brook Beach in Mount Sinai. The beauty of the water was as crystal as its name. The sun reflected so vividly and peaceful. Some days the tide would be in and the sun looked like it was dancing on the waters. When winter came, my friends and I would love to ice skate at Bald Hill, in Selden. The splendor of being up high felt like you were at a mountain resort. When we went for hot cocoa to warm our chilled bodies, we would sit inside by the fireplace, watching the skiers gracefully come down the hill. The snow that surrounded the building looked like a chalet out of the Swiss Alps.

--Margaret Miller, Centereach

7-Eleven Did Not Exist

We lived about a mile from the elementary school. We were "walkers" and my older sisters and I actually did walk. This is unheard-of now. 7-Eleven did not exist. There was a milk machine on the corner and we walked to the milk machine to buy a half-gallon of milk for a quarter. I even remember a time when we actually had milk deliveries; my mother kept a metal milk box on the front stoop for the milk man.

--Agnes Lucarelli, Kings Park

Walking Six Miles a Day

Growing up in the small community of Bay Park, East Rockaway, seems, by today's standard, almost rural. Summer bungalows were winterized for year-round living, and the "Canal Kids" of East and West Boulevards hiked a good 3 miles to and from East Rockaway High School each day (class of '63). We swam and boated in the Grand Canal and lolled at Bay Park Beach or Hewlett Point, falling in love while listening to the sounds from our portable radios.

--Patricia Quill, Massapequa Park

Riding the Fire Truck

When I was 9 years old in 1958, my family moved to Stewart Manor. It was "love at first sight!" My memories of this six-block incorporated village include: great sycamore trees lining our street on both sides and touching in the middle to create a "tunnel"; Memorial Days when we decorated our bicycles and rode in our little town's parade and received a delicious Dixie Cup of ice cream at the end. Then the biggest treat a child could dream of: A ride around in the back of the fire truck -- with the bell clanging as each kid tried to touch the American flag (which hung across one of the streets) as we drove under it!

-- L.M. Harney, Port Jefferson Station

Walking Everywhere

I grew up on Long Island in the 1950s at a time when you could still walk across Sunrise Highway after looking both ways once. And walk across the highway we did, very often. In fact, we walked everywhere or almost everywhere! My family lived in Bay Shore, north of Sunrise Highway.

--D. Somerville, Dix Hills

Frozen Milky Ways at Sunset

My favorite memories of Long Island are of summer vacations in Mattituck. From the time I was 5 years of age until 1969, my family rented a cabin near the Sound. I loved to walk the rock jetty to the white-and-red lighthouse which stood at the inlet. My sister and friends and I would look for starfish between the rocks and watch the fishermen. We went clamming and slid down the tremendous bluffs to the beach, picked beach plums to make jelly and visited the farm stand, where we could collect the discarded potatoes. In the evenings, we went to the beach concession to buy frozen Milky Ways and sit on the swings watching the spectacular sunset.

--Susan L. Seinfeld, Floral Park