In either 1939 or '40 when I was nine or ten my family and Aunt Mae's family shared a large rented bungalow in Montauk, L.I. Then Montauk was a small fishing village near the tip of what is called the 'South Fork' of L.I. Long Island is about 120 miles long west to east, dividing after Riverhead into two spurs of land stretching eastward for about 20 miles each. (The North Fork is where Mo and I built a home in 1960.) Long Island was formed at the end of the last ice-age as the southernmost reach of the ice sheet where it melted and deposited boulders, stones and gravel picked up grinding its way across New England. This line of deposits, a 'terminal moraine', formed the north shore from which the flow of the ice melt swept south carrying the finer materials which became the sandy soil of most of the island. The ice sheet 'retreated' due to a warming trend and then advanced slightly again in part to form the North Fork.
Driving out to Montauk took several hours for the almost 100-mile trip from home. A few miles after Riverhead, along the one main road continuing eastward, we saw a whole series of poured foundations of maybe 20 small houses on the north side of the road. The overgrowth showed that no work had been done on them for a long time. It stuck in our minds as a mystery which was not solved for us until 20 years later by an attorney we met in Riverhead.
A home builder thought he had title to the land on which he installed the foundations. One day the Shinnecock Indian Chief inquired of him when the houses would be completed because the members of his tribe were anxious to move in. The ensuing legal battle finally determined that King George III had granted the land in 'absolute domain' to the Shinnecocks before there was an American nation! Their claim is so strong that they supposedly cannot even sell the land. So, as of 1960, no further work had been done. Needless to say, the builder went bankrupt.
Our bungalow was rented from Sy, a lobster fisherman whose family lived in a house across a small courtyard. Sy knew that we were Catholic, and in those days, were forbidden to eat meat on Fridays. On our first Friday of the season, he left a whole bushel of lobsters on our doorstep. Everyone was delighted. Next Friday, another bushel of lobsters arrived. Another Friday--and another bushel. We had boiled lobsters, lobster salad, lobster sandwiches, lobster in every which way my mother could devise.
One night I asked her what we were having for dinner. At her reply, (and it's hard to believe the words passed my lips) I said, "Oh, Mom. Please! Not lobster again!"
For Sy it was a real cash prize for him when he could catch a swordfish while on his rounds pulling up lobster pots. When he got one, we shared in the bounty by a generous share of its steaks.
Nearby there was a building next to the water in which a large, shallow pool of water 20 or more feet across, contained many of the lobsters brought in by Sy and his colleagues. We would go now and then to watch the small and large crustaceans mill about but we also stared at a huge red lobster mounted on the wall above the tank. It appeared to be about four feet long. I got scared just thinking that those things were in the same body of water we swam in.
Just behind the bungalow was a small hill at the top of which was a pole leaning over which looked like an old telephone pole. From the top there hung a rope which we could hold onto and take a running leap over the side which would swing us out over the ground 8 or10 feet below. We did a lot of swinging around. Then the family found out about a patch of wild blueberries which we raided several times while they lasted.
Something that made a big impression on me, was when we went into the village to attend Mass on Sundays; there was always someone outside the church hawking a paper called Social Justice. My family scoffed at it and never bought a copy.
It was published by a nut-hatch Catholic priest, Father Charles Coughlin, who had become famous for his radio talks to millions of listeners which evolved into rants against Roosevelt, with anti-semitic rages against Jews, as well as diatribes on capitalism, communism, and a fierce opposition to our getting involved in the European war, After many years, Coughlin was finally silenced by the Church for his anti-semitism. His paper was closed down by the government during the War as subversive to the war effort.
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