I moved to Long Island on the LIRR

I came to Long Island in a laundry basket.

I was 3 months old when my family moved from the Bronx to Farmingdale. Because we did not own a car, we came out on the Long Island Rail Road. It was 1945.

My parents bought a home on Grant Avenue, right in the village.

I grew up in a wonderful time. Milk was delivered to the house and left in the milkbox on our front step. The Dugan man, which we called the delivery driver from Dugan's Bakery, came to the house with a big metal basket of bread, cakes and cookies. Newsday was delivered by a boy on a bike, and he came to "collect" once a week. We had a mailbox on the corner. Occasionally my mother let me walk to the Bohack's supermarket on Main Street, where I'd ask the butcher for 10 cents worth of chopped meat for my cat, who ate it raw and loved his special treat.

Main Street School, educating children all the way through 12th grade, was bursting at the seams as Long Island's population exploded after World War II. I attended public school kindergarten in the basement of the Methodist church across the street. Policemen crossed us at Main Street, not crossing guards.

I loved school, but I loved the summers, too. When I was a little kid, the summer seemed just as long to me as the school year. We had apple and cherry trees in our backyard. I loved to climb them and look down on my world. We also had big wooden swings with heavy ropes. We'd swing real high and jump off. We loved to twist the swings over and over and then let go, swirling at dizzying speeds.

Republic Aviation in Farmingdale was booming in the 1950s, and when test pilots flew over East Memorial School, the teachers had to stop talking as the deafening noise drowned out everything.

Weldon E. Howitt Junior-Senior High School was built in the '50s across the street from our house on land that was woods when we moved there. More elementary schools were built, and Farmingdale Senior High School opened in 1961 when I was a junior.

In 1950, when you picked up the telephone, there was no dial tone. An operator said, "Number, please." My family actually had a private line instead of a party line like many of our neighbors. Our exchange was Farmingdale 2. Later it was changed to Chapel 9, which became 249 when numerical exchanges were introduced.

When I wanted to play with the neighborhood kids, I went to "call for them" by ringing their doorbells. When their mother came to the door, I asked, "Can JoAnn and Valerie come out to play?"

We played house and school. We jumped rope and played hopscotch. We played "giant steps" and red light-green light. We rode bikes and had roller skates that clamped onto our shoes. We once built a hot rod with the boys out of wheels from a carriage, and boards and a barrel left in a nearby lot where a house was being built.

With awe, my family watched a black-and-white General Electric tabletop television in the living room. Our favorite performers were Milton Berle, Jack Benny, Red Skelton, and George Burns and Gracie Allen.

Times and technology sure have changed on Long Island. I, too, now walk around with an iPhone, and I'm writing this on my iMac.

Who could have imagined any of this 70 years ago? I can't even imagine what another 70 years will bring.

Reader Georgina Binder lives in Melville.