On Being Known

Here’s one of the reasons why I can’t seriously consider leaving Sag Hampton.

Today, I walked the two longish blocks along Main Street from the John Jermain Library to Schiavoni’s Market, and back. On that walk, I was greeted, by name, by three people I knew, and one whom I couldn’t place, but who obviously knew me. Later in the day, at the bank, there were three people on line, two were friends of mine and greeted me warmly. One stopped to chat.

Being known is a joyful and meaningful experience. I don’t mean being known as celebrities are known. I am in no way famous, near famous, or even a marginal public figure. I mean being known as someone who lives and works in this community. Over the years, I’ve met many other people who also live and/or work here, through the various roles I play in the community. I work in the library, teach computer classes, shop in town and serve on local committees. My wife and I attend local events and, when our children were young, we were involved in school activities, youth soccer, cub scouts, girl scouts, PTA, school committees, bake sales and more. In all these ways, we have come to know a broad cross-section of the year-round community; and we have developed a deep regard for, and a strong affection for the folks who are the backbone of this village. When we bump into them on the street, or in the shops, or at meetings, we are always pleased to see and be seen by these friends and acquaintances. We are also gratified to be recognized as part of this community.

At this time of year (Fourth of July weekend as I write this), we are surrounded by many folks who are part-time residents or tourists just passing through. Walking down Main Street today, it was easy to tell that the local year-rounders were dramatically outnumbered by the part-timers and visitors. This may be why, when we see each other, we are quick to offer a warm acknowledgment: hey, I know you. You’re part of my world. We belong to this community; you can affirm my membership, and I yours.

Our connection to this place was built over many years, and not without some effort. But now it is so real, and so important, that the idea of moving somewhere else, no matter how attractive that place may be, seems impossible. Who would we know? Who would know us? Leaving Sag Harbor would mean more than just leaving a beautiful place, it would mean leaving behind that part of ourselves that is inextricably entwined in the life and history of this community.

The kind of relationships that I am talking about here are, of course, not limited to Sag Harbor. They can and do develop for other people in many other places — but not everywhere. Today I also stopped in at the new barbershop in town. It’s actually not new to me, as I have had my hair cut by April and/or her brother Charles for many years when their shop was in Southampton Village. They recently moved to Sag Harbor when the rent on their Job’s Lane location was raised beyond what they could afford to pay. I asked Charles how they liked being in Sag Harbor. He replied that they are really happy here. He said that the local people were more friendly than in Southampton. They were welcomed, he said, by the other merchants, and received many wishes of success. He said that the attitudes of the people here were different, perhaps — and I paraphrase — less entitled then many of the folks in Southampton. I’m sure Southampton has many perfectly nice people, but perhaps, because of its greater size, they are spread a little thinner than in smaller, more comfortable, Sag Harbor. I hope Sag Harbor never changes; for if it does, it will be a sure sign that it is time for us to go.