Sag Hampton » Our Town

Shadow Goes Home

Saltbox — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 02:47:42 +0000

I usually use this space to write about issues facing our East End communities. But, every once in a while I digress from the serious side of life to honor one of those ephemeral moments that make living in Sag Hampton so rewarding. Today I joined about two hundred students, teachers, administrators and parents on Haven’s Beach as Shadow, a Gray Seal who was rescued in April and rehabilitated by the Riverhead Foundation for Marine Research and Preservation was released into the wild.

First there was a moment of sweet anticipation, as a representative of the Foundation thanked the children of Sag Harbor Elementary for adopting Shadow, and making his return to the wild possible. Then, Shadow was carried in his transport cage from the foundation’s van down to a spot near the water’s edge. One of the students was called upon to help open the cage door. As the door began to open, Shadow first stuck his nose out and then cautiously emerged from his temporary shelter. Looking a bit confused, he headed for the water, then changed his mind and tried to reverse direction and return to the safety of his cage. Apparently prepared for this eventuality, volunteers from RFMRP (as the foundation is awkwardly known), used large plywood squares to block his way, gently encouraging the seal to move seaward again, which he quickly agreed to do. A few minutes later Shadow was in the water. After swimming a few quick circles in the immediate vicinity of the beach, with just one quick backward glance, he was gone.

I’m not sure if Shadow was entirely happy about this turn of events — after all, he will now have to catch his own meals, after being hand-fed for many months — but we humans at least could bask in the happy feeling of having participated in a small worthwhile act of kindness and community. For us, it really doesn’t get any better than this.

Enjoy the photos.

Carrying Shadow to the water's edge.

A student helps to open the cage door

Shadow pokes his nose out.

Taking a look around.

Heading for the sea.

A bit reluctant, but almost there.

On his way.

A quick look back, and then he's gone.

The Five Top Problems Facing Sag Hampton

Saltbox — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 01:22:00 +0000

Over Development / Inappropriate Development
Simply put, over development is the poison that will kill the golden goose. As we all know, people love this area because of its natural beauty, open vistas, fresh air, and rural feel. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that suburban sprawl, McMansion ghettos, charmless villages filled with chain boutiques and real estate offices, condos lining the waterfront, mega-yachts clogging the harbors and bumper to bumper traffic are the antithesis of the characteristics that made this place desirable. Yet, all that and more just keeps on coming. So, as we approach full build out — a scenario that’s not nearly as far away as you might think — it is ever more imperative that we speed up our progress towards that “goal” (full build-out) by dramatically reducing the amount of land available for development through upzoning and open space preservation.
The Automobile
If you live in the remote reaches of Northwest, or somewhere towards the middle of Deerfield Road in Water Mill, you better have a car so you can get to work, shopping, or the doctor’s office, because there just isn’t any other way to get there. Looked at the other way around, the fact that we almost all have cars, has made it possible for us to build houses in these remote areas. Without cars, most of us wouldn’t put up with the inconvenience of living so far from the hamlets and villages where essential services are located. This, in a nutshell, is the cause and effect of the suburban sprawl that is rapidly destroying the beautiful vistas, unspoiled woodlands, pristine coastline and rural feeling of this area. Getting people out of their cars is a worthy goal on many levels, but one that seems almost impossible to achieve. One technique that has some hope of working, is smart growth: pushing development in close to the hamlets and villages through intensive upzoning of areas further away from the hamlet centers, and incenting developers to build and re-purpose properties closer in. This has the effect of increasing density to the point that some forms of public transportation make sense, thus getting people out of their cars, at least some of the time.
The Cost of Living
A community consisting entirely of wealthy second-home owners is not a sustainable community. As the cost of homes (and everything else) rises, working people are driven out of the community, as are the businesses they need to sustain them, and which are in turn, sustained by them. Eventually, the community itself is gone, replaced by a make-believe version that only exists for a few months of the year, and has no ability to provide the underpinnings of a real community such as a volunteer fire department and ambulance service, police department, and local government. Wealthy part-time residents don’t volunteer to serve in the fire department, or run for local office. Police can be brought in from somewhere else, but will not be as effective as a force made up, at least partially, of local residents. When local family businesses close, because their customers have been driven out of the area, what will replace them? Who will we turn to for groceries, hardware, and other household necessities? Ralph Lauren? Starbucks? Corcoran?
Provincialism/Nimbyism
Either we all bail together, or we all sink together. Don’t want that windmill in your neighbor’s yard, or that wind farm off your coastline? Well then, tell us where we can locate them, or sit back and watch your house disappear under the rising ocean. Don’t want that bicycle path running next to your estate, or cutting across your greenbelt? Well then, you’ll just have to put up with more automobile traffic and the massive amounts of pollution it generates. Don’t want affordable housing in your community? Then say good-bye to your community (see #3 above). This problem isn’t unique to individuals either; it also applies to local governments. One example of this type of provincialism with which I am familiar is in the area of transportation. In order to solve the area’s transportation problems, it is necessary for all five east end towns to work together. Local government officials understand this, and yet only pay lip service to the concept. One town doesn’t want ferries. Another doesn’t want buses. Another wants to sue the one that doesn’t want ferries. Villages block improvements to roads because the businesspeople in those villages are afraid their bottom lines may be hurt if a few parking spaces are lost. The net result is that we’re all so busy protecting our backyards that we don’t notice that the house is burning down.
Loss of Place
A sense of place is not something you can fake. I’m a big fan of historic preservation, but when I see the facades of historic buildings acting as camouflage for obscenely swollen McMansions tucked away behind the original modest structures, I am keenly aware that something important has been lost. When local agriculture, once a mainstay of the East End’s economy has come to mean horse farms for polo ponies and jumpers, a way of life that defined this area has slipped through our fingers, along with the definition it provided. When what was traditionally an artist’s community has more art galleries than working artists, it’s an indicator that the community’s balance has shifted away from individualism and towards commercialism. When the vast majority of the people who work here come from someplace else, a large hole has been torn in the fabric of the community that robs it of its sense of place. An authentic sense of place is what makes a community vibrant. For generations, people have come here because eastern Long Island was a “real” place. Once that’s gone — and we’re pretty darn close to losing it — well, once that’s gone, what’s left is Disneyland.

Save Sag Harbor (Cinema)

Saltbox — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 04:19:00 +0000

Yikes! This is serious. The Sag Harbor Cinema is for sale. There’s nothing more iconic in Sag Harbor than the Sag Harbor Cinema, the art-house theater that’s been a part of the local scene for decades. Just look at all the fuss that arose when my fellow Sag Harborites thought they were losing the theater’s sign! Now, it seems, we may be in danger of losing the entire theater and all that it stands for.

I know that a phrase like “all that it stands for” is a bit pretentious when talking about a commercial enterprise; but the Sag Harbor Cinema does a darn good job of representing the iconoclastic nature of our village in an easily identifiable way. It is after all an art house theater that plays lesser-known, usually small-budget, quirky, independent movies. Doesn’t that sound a lot like Sag Harbor itself? OK, well we’re not really lesser-known anymore, and we’re losing our small budget cachet, but we’re still arty, quirky and independent; in a nice example of symmetry, the Sag Harbor Cinema is one of the features of our village that keeps us that way.

It’s old, and slightly seedy, with a musty smell and seats that fall somewhat short of comfortable, but so what? Where else can you find so many stimulating and entertaining foreign and independent films week in and week out? East Hampton? I think not. Southampton? Don’t make me laugh. Westhampton? Where? OK, so maybe you don’t go to foreign or independent films that often, but isn’t it nice to know that you can see one locally now and again if it should come to your attention? Unfortunately, I suspect that most of us (myself included) don’t go to this type of film all that often, which probably means that the owner of the Sag Harbor Cinema isn’t exactly raking in the dough. It also means that it will probably be tough to find someone who wants to buy the theater to keep it going as it is.

On the other hand, the alternatives are pretty unsatisfactory. While the facade of the building may, or may not, be protected if it is designated as an historic landmark — it’s not clear that it is — anything could happen on the inside of the building. Perhaps it will be split up into several small retail spaces, or one large one. With retail rents being what they are, the probable inhabitants of such spaces will most likely be limited to high-end designer boutiques. Not exactly the small-scale, mom and pop businesses for which our village is known and loved. Whatever it ends up becoming, it will be a far cry from the integral part of the village it is today.

Now we come to the part of the post where a more ingenious thinker would lay out a strategy for preserving the theater in some way that would be more acceptable then turning it into boutiques. If only that writer were penning this article! Unfortunately, all we’ve got here is me, and I haven’t a clue as to what can be done. Here’s the best I can come up with: Let’s all start going to the movies more often here in Sag Harbor. Perhaps, if we do so consistently, we can make the Sag Harbor Cinema a more economically viable business that may attract a buyer interested in maintaining this local institution just as it is (perhaps with more comfortable seats). Got any better ideas? Think the Library should buy it? Add your thoughts to the comments section below. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the movies.

Sag Harbor: Alive, Well and Still Kickin’

Saltbox — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 00:49:29 +0000

Observed in and around Sag Harbor recently:

More Priuses per block than perhaps anywhere else in the country;
Tibetan Monks running programs at the Unitarian Universalist Church and North Haven Village Hall;
Heavy trunout for meetings of the various Village Boards;
A rejuvenated public library with more visitors, circulation, programs and joie de vivre than ever;
An Alternative Energy Fair at the Whaling Museum, which also seems pretty spry these days;
An agressive and effective Greening of Sag Harbor Committee;
An agressive and effective Save Sag Harbor group;
Our very own (aggressive and effective) Town Councilperson, in the person of Sag Harbor (soon to be Noyac) resident, Anna Throne-Holst;
Our very own baseball team;
For better or worse (depending on your point of view), a green light for the renovation of the Bulova watchcase factory;
A rambunctuous public meeting (or two) of the Sag Harbor School Board at which the community voiced its opinion loudly and clearly, and the Board, in its own way, responded;
An activist Village government that is not only trying to protect Sag Harbor’s future, but listens and responds to the concerns of residents and businesses as it goes about its business;
The Hamptons Music Festival at the Old Whalers’ Church;
The bigger than ever Bay Street Theatre Gala back on Long Wharf;
A sparkling new website for our home town newspaper, The Sag Harbor Express;
And, under the category of “things never stand still in Sag Harbor” the iconic Sag Harbor Movie Theater is apparently up for sale!!

I sometimes (okay, often) find myself slipping into the role of local curmudgeon here at Sag Hampton, forgetting the qualities that drew me to this town some thirty years ago. So, while Sag Harbor may need “saving” (and I believe it does), it’s good to look around now and then to remember that Sag Harbor is still an exciting and vibrant place to live, work, play and raise a family.

Did I leave out your favorite sign of life in Sag Harbor? Add it in the comments area below.

Sag Harbor: Still Making History

Saltbox — Tue, 09 Oct 2007 02:20:00 +0000

What’s the one constant in Sag Harbor’s 300 year history? Change. Starting as the port for the farmers in Sagaponack, Sag Harbor went on to become a bustling center of trade, home to one of the country’s largest whaling fleets, and an industrial center producing everything from watchcases to parts for the lunar landing module. As you walk the village, you can see bits and pieces of those various histories: The Custom House dating from the earliest days of the village; the Bulova Watchcase Factory, perhaps the jewel in our industrial crown, and the many lovely structures on south Main Street that started life as the homes of the prestigious and wealthy captains of the whaling fleet. Commercial, industrial, residential, waterfront, religious, and other structures from many different eras crowd together in the barely two square miles that is the entirety of Sag Harbor village. Wherever you walk history abounds, some from long ago, some of a more recent vintage — for history is an ongoing process. Yesterday’s obscenely modern structure is today’s honored period home. (Think Norman Jaffe’s south-of-the-highway homes.) A previous generation’s cheap motel is now a chic boutique hotel (Think Alexis Stuart’s Bridgehampton Motel.) Yesterday’s Watchcase factory is tomorrow’s luxury condos.

Many say that Sag Harbor has entered a period of unprecedented change that may irredeemably alter its character forever. Others, with perhaps a more long-range view, understand that there has never been a quintessential Sag Harbor. This village is not frozen in time. It evolves to meet the needs of its inhabitants. Looking back, or ahead, we may not recognize those inhabitants, but it was, and will be their village, not ours. Ours is the Village that we have today: historic, funky, upscale, charming, nautical, artistic, resorty and small-town. It’s the culmination of all that came before, and the root from which the Sag Harbor of tomorrow is sprouting even as we watch.

To help us reflect upon these changes and consider how the village will continue to evolve and adapt, a few members of the 300th anniversary organizing committee, led by Benito Vila, have put together a workshop which will be held on Saturday, October 13th at the Methodist Church on Madison Street, to celebrate the character and legacy of Sag Harbor. This workshop, which looks to be a lot of fun, will begin with a presentation and discussion led by experienced preservationists and local artists, after which everyone will head out into the streets to “catalogue” in photos, sketches, or what have you, various aspects of the village’s public and private spaces. Once the cataloging has concluded, the collected materials will become the basis for one or more collaborative projects. One such project might be an online “wiki” where digital photos and digitized sketches are stored, tagged as to content, and commented on by participants, and later by others who view the wiki. The John Jermain Memorial Library has offered the use of its computers to facilitate the creation of the wiki, or other online project, and will make the results available to the public through its website. Other projects may also be developed based on ideas brought forward by participants.

Everyone is invited to participate. At the very least we hope to enjoy an afternoon with friends and neighbors celebrating together the place we live. At best we will create a time capsule of sorts, recording images of the village, documenting what is currently here, and identifying the qualities we hope to retain and encourage for the future. Given the proposed commercial development of existing properties and parcels throughout the village, there will be much to compare and contrast. The effect of those initiatives will be an important consideration as we observe Sag Harbor continuing to make history.
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Currently listening to: Our Little Town by Greg Brown.

Saving Sag Harbor

Saltbox — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 16:49:47 +0000

There’s a new and very active group in our community calling itself Save Sag Harbor. Its primary mission is to preserve Main Street’s traditional look and business mix — mostly small locally-owned stores and restaurants — by preventing national chains and big box stores like CVS from moving in and driving up commercial rents to the point where they are the only businesses that can afford to have a presence here. For an example of what that looks like, visit East Hampton. As regular readers of this blog can probably guess, I’m very sympathetic to this cause. But, the name of the group strikes me as problematic.

The problem I see can best be stated as a question. Would Sag Harbor actually be “saved” if chain stores were outlawed here? And, that question leads me to another: what would a saved Sag Harbor be like? Let’s start with the easy stuff. Clearly, there would not be a CVS here. With CVS out of the picture, Sing City, the liquor store and 7 Eleven would be able to stay. Did I say 7 Eleven? That’s odd. 7 Eleven is definitely a chain, and a few short years ago nobody wanted them here either. I thought I was starting with the easy stuff, but I’m already running into difficulty. Fortunately for Sag Harbor, 7 Eleven’s original franchisee, the Young family, was determined to prove that 7 Eleven could be a good, if not perfect, neighbor. They obviously succeeded, since no one talks about keeping out 7 Eleven anymore. Quite the opposite. We want them to stay. Times change, as does our perception of a “saved” Sag Harbor.

I know it sounds like I’m revving up to defend CVS, Starbucks and their ilk. Trust me, I’m not. I just want to point out that one has to think carefully about the issues facing our little village. Nothing is ever quite as straightforward as it seems. Another example of this is historic preservation. Everyone’s for that. Right? A saved Sag Harbor would certainly retain its place in the National Register of Historic Places. Well, yes, but I have a couple of quibbles with Sag Harbor’s Architectural Review Board. It seems they are, to put it mildly, resistant to alternative power generation devices, such as solar panels and wind turbines. I find this attitude quaint, which I guess is appropriate for people whose mission is to preserve the past. However, I pose this question to the ARB: how quaint will Sag Harbor be when the entire historic district is under water? It’s pretty clear that the world’s best hope for preventing the polar ice caps from melting is for many people to take many small steps to conserve energy and reduce carbon emissions. Unfortunately for the historic purity of our village, that includes people who live in historic homes. Which is worse, solar panels or homes under water? In my version of a saved Sag Harbor, there are solar panels on many roofs.

Now for my other quibble with the ARB. In spite of the fact that I’m in favor of allowing solar panels and/or modest wind turbines to appear on the roofs of historic homes in our village, I really am strongly in favor of historic preservation; so much so, in fact, that I question whether the ARB and the other agencies that regulate the look of our Village are too. As I walk down our lovely streets, I find my sensibilities assaulted by what appear to be charming historic homes with huge inflated cancers growing on them. What the heck is up with 168 Main Street? Is Ira Rennert moving to Sag Harbor? What about the house across the Street from 168 Main where a small cottage was expanded to three or four times its original size, all of which expansion is clearly visible from the street? How can one say the historic look of that house has been preserved? Clearly the codes governing the expansion of historic homes are not adequate in the face of today’s “bigger is better” home owners. In my version of a saved Sag Harbor, this trend will not only be stopped, but reversed.

Unfortunately, the questions only get harder. What to do about traffic? Sag Harbor is a delightfully walkable community; or it would be if there were fewer cars on the roads. Have you ever tried to cross at the intersection of Jermain and Madison on foot? Clearly, until we get people out of their cars, Sag Harbor will continue to suffer from ever increasing traffic woes. An integrated network of light rail, buses, and…gasp!…passenger ferries would go a long way toward enabling people to come to Sag Harbor while leaving their cars at home. Can we truly say that Sag Harbor is saved if we don’t address the traffic problems?

Another tough one: affordable housing. I’ve always believed that what sets Sag Harbor apart from the surrounding communities, and made it the best place to live in the Hamptons is its heterogeneous mix of social, economic and ethnic populations. Not only was there a healthy mix of different types and classes of people, but also, these groups were not divided. Everyone lived side by side in the same neighborhoods. As in a classroom where students of differing abilities are mixed together, everyone benefits. In a village, it’s the year-round, working families that provide the necessary infrastructure, and a good deal of the character of the place. They, in turn benefit from the culture and economic opportunity provided by the second-home owners. Cultures mix and something new and better emerges. Homogeneity — in this case represented by a community of only the wealthy — results in inbreeding and an ultimately sterile environment, lacking in all the charm that attracted people here in the first place. Unfortunately, the “free” market in real estate has killed any hope of retaining the mixed economic neighborhoods of Sag Harbor past. Artificial life-support in the form of mandated affordable housing units is the only hope of preserving some remnant of this tradition. To really save it though, the affordable units must be integrated into all new housing developments, not segregated in affordable-only sub-divisions. In a saved Sag Harbor, there are affordable units in the Bulova condo renovation too.

Speaking of condos, I would say that without a doubt the monstrous and obtrusive condo development proposed by Michael Maiden for Ferry Road near Long Wharf has no place in a saved Sag Harbor. This property clearly must be acquired and preserved by local government for use as a public space. If allowed to go through, the impact of those condos on the character and livability of Sag Harbor’s downtown will be overwhelming, maybe even a tipping point beyond which “Saving Sag Harbor” becomes an empty rallying cry.

There are, of course, other issues that need to be addressed before Sag Harbor can be considered saved: bike lanes and sidewalks, the library, open space preservation (yes, even in Sag Harbor) and more — too many to address in one sitting at the keyboard. None of this is simple; all of it is interrelated. Saving Sag Harbor requires action on many fronts by an informed and concerned populous. It is not now, and never will be a one-issue campaign.

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Currently listening to: Who Will Save Your Soul? by Jewel

A Tale of Two Sundays

Saltbox — Tue, 17 Jul 2007 03:49:00 +0000

Two Sundays ago my wife and I were in Richmond, a city of approximately 200,000 people, and the capital of the State of Virginia. We were visiting friends, and as it was our first time in the city, they offered to take us on a quick tour of some of the main attractions. We soon discovered three things about Richmond: it has many historic sites; it is, for the most part, a clean, attractive city; and the downtown is empty on Sundays. Two hundred thousand people, and barely a handful of them downtown on a Sunday afternoon!

Now, the town in which I live is much smaller than Richmond. Take the population for instance. The Village of Sag Harbor has a year-round population of about 2,300. Even the School District, which is quite a bit larger than the Village has a year-round population of only about 6,600. You’ll notice that when I mention our local population figures, I always qualify them with the phrase “year-round.” The reason for that would be obvious if you were in downtown Sag Harbor with me last Sunday. Now, it is well known that our population swells considerably during the summer months, but I didn’t realize that all 199,999 people that I did not see in downtown Richmond two weeks ago, would be vacationing in Sag Harbor a week later.

The week-to-week contrast was startling. In Richmond one week, we could drive around the city unencumbered by traffic or even pedestrians, park when and where we wished, make u-turns with impunity, and have free and easy access to whatever we wished to do. One week later, in Sag Harbor, driving and parking were near impossibilities, and walking the length of our two-block long Main Street was almost as difficult.

I don’t really have a point here, unless it’s to say that Richmond is a nice place to be on a summer Sunday, if you don’t like crowds. Of course, Sag Harbor is also a nice place to be on a summer Sunday — unless you don’t like crowds.

To be fair, we did see a few people at a church in Richmond. One of them was quite agitated about something. When we saw him he was shouting, “give me liberty, or give me death!” I was so impressed that, after he settled down, I took a couple of pictures which I include here for your edification.

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Currently listening to: Harbor by Vienna Teng

Where are the Japanese/Korean Car Dealers?

Saltbox — Mon, 11 Jun 2007 02:40:00 +0000

This is an actual and honest question. If anyone knows the answer, please let the rest of us know by posting a comment.

The question is: Why are there no Toyota, Honda, Subaru, Nissan, Mazda, Mitsubishi or Hyundai dealers anywhere in Sag Hampton? Don’t tell me they’re in Riverhead, that’s 50 minutes away when there’s no traffic. We have Ford, Chevy, and Chrysler, and OF COURSE we have Mercedes, BMW, Lexus, Mini-Cooper, Range Rover, Saab (but, curiously, not Volvo), Audi, Porsche, and Jaguar, but if you want to buy the best selling car in America, a Toyota Camry, you have to drive 28 miles through Hamptons traffic to get to the closest dealer. What’s with that?

P.S. – We bought a Toyota Prius today — in Oakdale, not Riverhead. Oil changes are going to be a bear.

Ours is blue.
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Currently listening to: The Luckiest Guy On the Lower East Side by The Magnetic Fields

The Five Things I Like Best About Sag Harbor, and the Five I Like Least

Saltbox — Sun, 18 Mar 2007 23:24:00 +0000

I Like

The Community. Sag Harbor is still largely a community of people who live here year-round and care about the town, its institutions and each other. There are lots of groups and organizations to get involved with — school, fire department, historical society, library, theater, museums, chamber of commerce, churches, synagogue and more. And, whether you choose to get involved with one of these, or just to live here and walk or shop on Main Street, you’ll find yourself amazed, comforted, reassured and inspired by the good people you’ll meet here.
Long/Short Beach. One of the first places in Sag Harbor I ever saw was Long Beach, and I’ve been drawn to it ever since. I have a photo of my oldest daughter at two years old, on the rocks at Short Beach. As far as I can remember, this was our family’s first visit to Sag Harbor. We lived in East Quogue at the time, but from that day, I knew we would live near this wonderful beach someday. If you’ve not been on Long Beach at sunset, when the rays from the dying sun break into fiery orange-gold fragments on the choppy surface of the bay, then you’re missing one of the true wonders of life on the East End.
Narrow streets closely lined with historic homes. Suffolk, Concord, Amity, Jefferson, Garden, Bayview, Palmer Terrace and on and on. These streets hold a fascination for me that I can’t explain. I can, and do, walk them over and over, never tiring of the experience, and always finding something new and fascinating to enjoy along the way.
The real stores on or near Main Street. By “real” I mean the shops, restaurant and other businesses that cater to the real needs of most people. These are mostly “mom & pop” type enterprises that have been here as long as I can remember. A partial list follows, with apologies to any business that thinks they should be on it that I may have inadvertently left off: The Variety Store, The Ideal, the movie theater, the laundromat, Schiavoni’s Market, Emporium Hardware, Schmidt’s Sag Harbor Liquors, Canio’s Books, Black Cat Books, The Corner Bar, Sing City, the Sag Harbor Pharmacy, Illusions, Yeisley Jewelers, Cove Deli, Java Nation, Chelsea Crossing and even 7-11. I wish there were more. There once was.
Our proximity to “The Hamptons.” This is a love/hate thing of course, but the Hamptons, by their very nature, provide us with access to culture, fine dining, beautiful ocean beaches, and all types of businesses and service providers that might not otherwise be available to us.

I Dislike
I won’t belabor these with long explanations. If you’ve been here, you know what I’m talking about.

The traffic.
Real estate and rental prices (actually the almost total lack of rental properties) that are driving long-time residents and young families out of the area.
The trend toward turning venerable historic structures and otherwise serviceable homes into McMansions.
Over- and/or otherwise inappropriate development.
The growing number of people and businesses that seem to believe that it is fine to profit from or otherwise enjoy the benefits of living and working here, but feel no obligation to contribute to or participate in the life of the community.

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Currently listening to: Oh What a World by Rufus Wainwright

The Ghost in the House

Saltbox — Sun, 11 Feb 2007 06:05:00 +0000

Our house sits on a half-acre lot, in a neighborhood of half-acre lots located just south of the Village line. It’s a modest neighborhood by Sag Hampton standards. It’s not in the historic district, in fact the neighborhood is so not historic that it didn’t even exist before 1987, give or take a year. Before then it was just woods. When we began construction there was only one other house in the neighborhood (I almost wrote in the subdivision, but I hate that word with a passion, and my fingers wouldn’t type it until I put it in italics.)

My wife and I cleared the land ourselves, with a bit of help from our young children. It was painful. I felt the need to apologize to each tree I killed. When I was done, our builder told me I hadn’t cleared enough land for the heavy equipment to be able to move around, and he then cut down a bunch more trees. That really hurt, but the pain was soon swept away by the excitement of seeing of our house sprout and grow large amidst what remained of the forest. As the house grew to fill the recently cleared land, my conscience eased proportionately, and I began to take joy in what we were creating.

It’s important to the story I’m telling for you to know how we came to own this particular piece of land. One day, about a year before the clearing started, my wife got a call from our good friend Jane. Jane, who knew we wanted to build a home for our family told my wife that there were two lots in a new development not far from where we were living at the time, that were selling for a reasonable price. Jane and Bobbie (my wife) went to look at the property, and decided that it would be the perfect place for our two families to build homes side by side. So we each bought a lot and began to dream. Within a year, Bobbie and I were clearing our land, but for various reasons, Jane and her family were not able to move ahead with their plans. So, while we were thrilled to see our new home take shape, our glass was only half full (maybe a bit more). For quite some time we hoped that Jane’s family would be able to build on their lot, but it never did work out, and eventually, a few years after our house was completed, they sold their lot to a spec builder.

This was not what we had anticipated. Now, we would be living next door to someone we didn’t know. To make matters worse, suddenly a house was also going up on the other side of our home. So we watched with very mixed feelings as more woods gave way to houses. This was, of course, inevitable, in a half-acre subdi-you-know, but still, we mourned the loss of our privacy. Eventually, the other house was completed, and a nice family moved in with a child that same age as our oldest daughter. So far, so good. The first house, the one that stood where Jane’s family was meant to live, remained vacant longer, but eventually sold.

Now, here’s where things got interesting. The purchasers of “Jane’s” house were a retired couple from New York City, and only came out to “the Hamptons” on weekends, and for a few weeks during the summer. Most of the year, the house stood empty. For us, this was a mixed blessing. These folks not only weren’t the good friends we hoped to have living next door — given their schedule, they were not likely to ever become more than casual acquaintances. On the other hand, with the house empty much of the year, we basically had our privacy back. It wasn’t woods, but it also wasn’t occupied.

We adjusted. Then the neighbors on the other side put their house on the market. The market, being what it is, meant that even the modest homes in our neighborhood were no longer affordable to people of modest means. Before you could say ka-ching, there were second-home owners on that side as well. As it turned out, this young family spends even less time in their new home than the retired couple, and so, we now live in a sort of ghost-town in the middle of a suburban street. We like our privacy, but this might be too much of a good thing.

One of the qualities I particularly enjoy about living in a small town is getting to know and be known in the community. (I wrote about that once before, here.) So, while I know and am friendly with many of the people who live in my neighborhood, I don’t know either of the people whose homes and property abut mine. Somehow, that just feels wrong. It makes our small town feel more like a big apartment building in New York where you see people coming and going all the time, but don’t really know who they are. Unfortunately, this metaphor will shortly become all too real as the Bulova building in the heart of the Sag Harbor Village fills up with summer residents, only to return to its current abandoned state every winter — just one of a dozen reasons why some accommodation for local workforce housing should be made there.

Last night, I went to a gathering at a home on Mecox Road in Water Mill. To get there, I drove down Ocean Road from Montauk Highway almost to the Atlantic Ocean. As you may know, Ocean Road (and much of Mecox Road too) is lined almost entirely with summer homes. Driving down those roads on a cold February night with all the houses dark is mighty eerie. In the summer it’s a community of sorts. In the winter it’s ghostly. Those of us who’ve been here a while are used to that feeling south of the Highway. Unfortunately, the Highway no longer protects our “north-of-” community from the onrushing army of ghosts.
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Currently listening to: Ghost in This House by Alison Krauss and Union Station.