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Grew up on...well, you know, from the 60s through 70s. I'd have a hard time thinking of a better place or time to grow up. Everyplace from the yards to the sump to Belmont Lake was our playground.
*Hotkarl huddled in fetal position rocking back and forth in a river of tears*
I grew up on a dead street, no street lights....but we played in the street all day and maybe moved for a car twice a day. We went home went our parents literally yelled out the front door for us. One neighbor was the singer at our church with a beautiful alto voice - it was really something when he called his kids!
Also grew up in a Levitt home. Had to be indoors before the streetlights came on or else ! The Levittown pools were the center of our summers. Remember diving head first off the high board ? At the end of the day we would do jackknives or cannonballs off the high board, knowing the lifeguard would kick us out until the next day.
The Mays shopping center had everything we needed. Newberrys, Mays, Lobels ...
You brought back some memories!
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In Syosset was a German bakery called Lady Cake; I am of Italian decent, and love Italian bakeries, yet I loved Lady Cake!
The had great crullers, linzer tarts, danishes, and chocolate chip cookies.
Before Syosset grew upmarket, south Syosset had working and middle class families: I have great memories of riding my bike on dirt tracks, and people servicing their cars; as a kid, I would get knowledge by asking people questions about what they were fixing, and how they were doing it, etc.
In Syosset was a German bakery called Lady Cake; I am of Italian decent, and love Italian bakeries, yet I loved Lady Cake!
The had great crullers, linzer tarts, danishes, and chocolate chip cookies.
Before Syosset grew upmarket, south Syosset had working and middle class families: I have great memories of riding my bike on dirt tracks, and people servicing their cars; as a kid, I would get knowledge by asking people questions about what they were fixing, and how they were doing it, etc.
My Dad's sister lived in Huntington and we would drive there via Jericho Turnpike and my sister and I knew we were getting close when we saw Davega on the right side going east and also another landmark was the Royal Viking also on the right going east.
My Dad's sister lived in Huntington and we would drive there via Jericho Turnpike and my sister and I knew we were getting close when we saw Davega on the right side going east and also another landmark was the Royal Viking also on the right going east.
I wasn't aware that the bakery attracted customers from such a distance away...such a good bakery .
I grew up in NHP in the 60's/70's, south of Jericho by the LIRR. Besides all the landmarks described above, bakeries, restaurants, pools, etc .. What about the sheer number of bars? In NHP on Jericho Tpke we had at least ten gin mills all within an easy walk of each other.
In Syosset was a German bakery called Lady Cake; I am of Italian decent, and love Italian bakeries, yet I loved Lady Cake!
The had great crullers, linzer tarts, danishes, and chocolate chip cookies.
Before Syosset grew upmarket, south Syosset had working and middle class families: I have great memories of riding my bike on dirt tracks, and people servicing their cars; as a kid, I would get knowledge by asking people questions about what they were fixing, and how they were doing it, etc.
Great German bakery. One of my sisters worked there…they did open a branch in Woodbury but that didn’t last long. After they closed I went to Rhinewald’s in Huntington for similar treats (I think the owners knew the old Lady Cake Bakery owners and may have shared recipes).
And gotta agree that South (of the Jericho) Syosset was very similar to Hicksville back then. In fact, the high schools (in the 60’s and 70’s) were similar too.
In 1963 we moved from the city when Dad bought a house in Bohemia. It was the first time I ever saw a mailbox on a post and I thought, "Boy, this is really the country." Over the years, as Dad's fortunes improved we moved further east until we settled for good in Southold. My first job is in Riverhead delivering a now defunct newspaper called the Suffolk Sun. I'd deliver 50 papers each morning before school on my Sting Ray bike and I remember it being a bit rough in the winters of yore when the Island is buried in snow for weeks on end. But I managed it and sometimes I think the toughest thing in the world is a twelve year old boy.
The countless square miles of pristine Pine Barrens are our playground where we built forts and played 'War' until we saw the glow of the first street lights in the distance. I got my first 'lot car' at fourteen. An old Chevvy I drove (mostly) on the farm roads and I couldn't imagine life being any better. But this was the year the Swede rolled his lot car, is ejected, and killed. My first dead friend. He was 13.
Just an aside, but I learned something important from the Swede's early death. Yes, at the time it was a very big deal, all the mothers wept, and the fathers are threatening to take our lot cars away. But it all passed and eventually everything returned to normal. However, now when I look back over the almost sixty years that have passed since the Swede died the real significance becomes apparent. I think about all he missed over those sixty years. The loves, the laughs, and even the bad times missed is the real tragedy of an early death. And that was something my 14 year old self couldn't fathom at the time.
At seventeen I joined the Marine Corps (out of Riverhead) and never lived on the Island again. I've been back to visit over the years and the spot where the Swede took his last breath is now a paved road leading to a Winery. It's still a beautiful place but different somehow. And it's easy to think the area has morphed into something else, but has it? I think what's different between then and now – is really me.
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