Fish Boxes as Boats?????

It’s surprising that my Friend Ray and I managed to live to see our 20th birthday. Our first 20 years living on Sterling creek were hectic to say the least this story or stories Takes place in Greenport if we were cats our nine lives would have both used up by the time I got my first boat (the first one I paid for anyway)

After a storm some rowboats get washed up in the reeds on the other side of the crick others end up behind Rays house or along the shore line if.. They were still there after 2 weeks they were fair game usually they stayed ware they were. Ray and I kept 2 for a while we had 3 but usually we kept the two best ones and let the others go. If the boat was there too long we would drag it back into the creek and wish it farewell. Sometimes some rowboats did not want to leave, we would go down to the crick the next day and lo and behold here it comes back to the same spot we pushed it off. Some of them are tired and don’t want to leave. We put a rope on this one and towed it nearly a mile and gave it a good shove near Sandy Beach there is a outlet to the bay at the end of Sandy Beach and when the tide is running good it pushes anything through the outlet. If you are going out it is call and outlet but it’s called the inlet if you are going in the outlet but if you are actually in the outlet but going in?????? Anyway we were in the outlet when we pushed the boat out of the inlet…..am I going
crazy or what?

At that time I lived across the street from him, so it was a rare day when we didn’t run into each other. There was a well beating path between our houses. There were a few other kids that used his yard as a path to get to the creek.

Actually the first boat we never had, could have been the end of one of us at that time, neither one me new knew to swim. I was about 8 and Ray 6 ½, where were our parents? We were right next door to Pell’s fish store our play area was within 50 ft from Pell’s Docks.
Pell’s kept their supply of fish boxes right were we played. Times were sure different no one paid much attention to what ever we did. Well World War 2 was still raging. Rays Grandfather made rowboats & sailboats. He was also a builder of life saving boats that operated in the sound from the 1920’s. I will have to Research that story.

Pell’s wood fish boxes to Ray at least seemed like a good place to start a boat. We dragged a couple of boxes over to Rays dock. Ray new a lot about how boats floated but we realized that with all the boards about a half-inch apart it would never float. Ray asked his father for something to put in the cracks. It’s funny his father didn’t ask how big this boat was. Rays dad said to go over to the boat yard they have what ever we needed. Ray’s grandfather still ran Bishops boatyard at that time so we got the caulking over there. Do you have any idea what a fish box looks like? It’s made out of real 1/8-inch flimsy crap. When Pell’s sent fish to New York City it was shipped in these boxes they pack the fish boxes with about 20 lbs of ice and 25 lbs of fish in each box. If you tie two them together you have a boat about 30 inches by 30-inch by10 inch high. The box will float. Sure will if you put 4 cats in it. I’m glad we didn’t try that. Ray was excited and said, “lets go!”

“NO WAY” I said, “that thing was going one way and that was down to the bottom.”

Ray pulled the box boat to the middle of the dock (so it would not hit the bottom) fat chance I was not about to step in that flighty box bouncing up and down this was definitely over my head and not being able to swim a stroke at that time (Ray couldn’t either}. It was plain to see it was going to tip over.

“You first.” I said.

Ray tentatively tried stepping in the middle of the box (that might be a good idea in a canoe but not in a fish box. The fish box did everything but float, it wobbled and jiggled. It did every thing a boat should do but float. It was more than 3/4 sunk before he was in the box. Nobody could stand in that thing. It flipped over and the box was on top of him. He was thrashing around not going up or down, I had no idea what to do. The only thing I could think of for him to do was to hold on to hold on to the fish box it was still floating upright. Next to him the rope that was tied to the box was under the dock. I had to lie on my stomach on the dock and I could just touch the string……string? I thought we had 20 ft of rope not a 20 ft piece of string. Don’t struggle the string might break and it just did OH NO… Now what do I do? Ray gave a halfhearted yell for help. I yelled not much louder, after all someone might hear us. I had to think of something else real fast. I remember the big sloop on the next dock had a crab net on the deck in front of the cabin maybe that would reach him! The sloop rented a space on Bishops dock it was a 42 ft 2 mast sloop (Ray’s dad bought it the next year.) The dilemma I had was that the tide was going out so the lines were taught and it was difficult to pull any boat up to the dock and hold it there to get on. I probably weighed 75 lbs at that time….I tried pulling it but the tide was to strong and it was at least 8 ft from the dock to the boat. I had to take a chance and tight walk the rope across to the boat I made it in about 4 steps. I grabbed the crab net and figured I’d go back the same way. But no such luck! (By the way the name of the boat was the Good Luck.) By tight rope walking across the rope the first time it let some slack out of the rope just enough so I just made 2 steps and then fell between the boat and the dock.

Ray yelled, “Bill what are you doing!”

I said, “I am getting a crab net.

“What!!” said Ray “get me out of here this aint no time to be crabbing.”
I quick found out how deep it was in that spot it was 4 feet of water and over a foot of mud.

“Hay what are you doing?” Ray yelled (now there were two of us drowning)

I managed to keep a hold on the net, but at least I was between the boat and the dock and there were 2 or 3 ropes I could climb.

Just then my younger sister Nancy came running down the dock….”watcha doing?” she said…

“Leave us alone were drowning …Go and see if you can
reach Ray with the net..”

As I climbed up one of the dock spills. When I got up on the dock Nancy came back without the net.

“Were is the net?” I yelled

“Don’t yell at me.” she quipt “I threw the crab net at Ray and he did not want it.”

Lucky for us the wood handle of the net let it float strait up about 2 inches was above the water.

“Grab the handle,” I yelled

It took him 3 or 4 tires to get a hold of the handle, each time he pushed the handle out towards the dock he would nearly sink the box. But, when I got a hold of the net and pulled him to the dock Ray said “I’m never going to drown again.”

I’ll always remember Nancy saying, “Raymond your pants are all wet your mother will be real mad.”

I never heard what his mom said about that day come to think of it I don’t remember my mother saying anything about it either.

(Just a note at this time Nancy always tested all the cats on the dock to see if they could swim by throwing them in the water. Sometimes there were 3 or 4 trying to climb the post at the same time trying to get out. They always did climb out.)

Ray and I were on the water all the time spring and summer.

SHARPIE DITYS 1945-55’S

Volume 1

Ray and I spent from April to December fishing, crabbing pulling up eel pots a and looking for a new adventure never knowing what next God had in store for us it may be something great or something small God just made the time and place for us. What we did with it is up to us. We sort of went with the flow. We enjoyed what ever presented itself to us.

Just imagine you and your best friend drifting along the shoreline in your 50-year-old rowboat that has many stories of its own to tell. Ray and I both drifting off with the odor of old barnacles and other sharpie smells from a half-century of this old rowboat plying the crick inland marshes it developed a odoriferous smells of its own. Lying on the bottom falling asleep. Ray and I could not resist falling asleep the slapping of the little waves on the bottom of the boat did help us fall asleep.

The little rowboat was free to take us were ever it wanted to go. The cries of gulls and the chatter of terns as they crossed over back and forth over us they seemed to be keeping a watch over us. As we drifted dozing off a small miracle we missed was a sharply dressed kingfisher that landed on our bow and decided this was a safe spot to do a little preening and while he was at it do a little fishing. This to him seemed the safest spot in the area. However, this salty balmy air had us dreaming about a better time and place we could not even dream of as we continued to drift off under the balmy sun.

The little rowboat was free to take us were ever it wanted to go. The cries of gulls and the chatter of terns as they crossed over back and forth over us they seemed to be keeping a watch over us. As we drifted dozing off a small miracle we missed was a sharply dressed kingfisher that landed on our bow and decided this was a safe spot to do a little preening and while he was at it do a little fishing. This to him seemed the safest spot in the area. However, this salty balmy air had us dreaming about a better time and place we could not even dream of as we continued to drift off under the balmy sun.

Stay Tune for more Sharpie Ditys

The rest of the trip.

Pictures 1 Montack Light House
2 Shinnecock Canal

We had no idea where we were going to camp for the night at this time. We should be around the Shinnecock Canal. We were about 70 miles behind. We could not travel in the dark with no lights on Rays Columbia .We figured we would have to find a place near Southhamton. We temporally took a side road off Rt. 27 and searched for an unused dirt road. After about an hour we found a road more like a path it didn’t look like it was somebody’s drive way at least. We followed it about a 150 ft or so it gradually opened up to a field. We could not ride our bikes, as it was too sandy it was getting too dark to go much further so we crossed the field and pushed our bikes about 50 ft further just to be off the road. It was sandy but dry. Ray took the big bag off the back of his bike and this was a large about 8 by 8 ft tablecloth. It was made of plastic so I guess it was waterproof. It was kind of messy getting what else that was in his saddlebags out and it was kind of hard to figure out what was edible and what was not. Ray’s Vienna Sausages were pretty good the only problem was those little cans are hard to open without a can opener. The only knife we had was my old army knife, and that thing was 10 inches long that is not a easy thing to do with a knife that size in the dark.

I’m starving to death,” Ray said.

I found my flashlight. Then I took a walk down the path looking for a rock. What kind of place is this that doesn’t even have a rock? I found a piece of cement or something and Ray bashed the cans until he got a hole big enough to get those little sausages, I had a couple cupcakes and some margarine on a chunk of bread.

“If we had only thought of bringing silver ware things would be a hell of a lot easier.” I said.

Ray somehow put up that stupid flowery tablecloth. He tied the four corners with string.

“That’s lovely,” I said to Ray after he finished fooling with (the tent) it seemed to be overly dark there should be streetlights at least.

Ray was eating donuts for at least an hour. I couldn’t sleep. Ray never has that problem he dozed off about 11:00 clock, I lay there wondering what comes next. About an hour later Ray is thrashing around and mumbling something.

“What’s the matter now!…..” I said
“I have to go..go …where you know.” he said.

“Just go in the bushes…”

I can”t do that in the bushes…”

“How were you planning to go before we went on this trip……”

I tried to not think about it ….I guess ….I thought I would go in a gas station…..”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Your right that’s stupid.”

“Well right. I’ll take a walk up the trail a bit and find a spot….”

“Well go already I aint to keen on laying hear alone in God knows where. Take a good flashlight and hurry back,”

I did not like this at all but I kept track of the time it was 10 minutes that should be long enough I got up and just then I saw t he headlights of a car coming through the trees. However the lights were coming from the direction we had been going in and it sounded like more than one car.
“I.” yelled to Ray “get back here.”

The lights were getting brighter.

“Come on, COME ON!” I said

My flash light rolled away I cant find the path,…

”That’s great,” I said. “the only flash light that we have that’s any good.”

I am going to take off 1 of my fender rocket lights and hold it up its not very bright but I thought Ray might be able to see it through the brush. I held it up high enough to get over the low brush the…rocket light was yellow it would not show up to far. The only other light we had was my floodlight, headlight

Ray said to “loud” “I can see it!” As he thrashed through the bushes .

The two cars kept coming there was apparently a turn around in the back of the house in the middle of the garden. Apparently there was a house a couple hundred feet from our camp. It was after 1 o’clock I doubted if they would go out in the back yard that late. Ray said he was pretty sure he could find the flashlight when it gets lighter.
That was the least of our worries I doubted that.
When it got light enough we made tracks out of there. We were back on good old Rt. 27

About a half hour later, of course starving to death, I had a cupcake in my mouth it was kind of mucky. Ray seemed to have lost his taste for his sausages. We saw no diners or a truck stop for about another 5 miles. About 9 o’clock we saw what looked like a diner. There was a half lit sign that said “E D ODE HS OOD.” We hoped it said food. We chained our bikes to a post, and went inside there was 3 or4 people inside you could not tell if they were customers or workers. We sat at the table closest to the door; there was a long dead lobster a huge one it looked as if it had been there 20 years. It was on the divider that separated the door from the tables, other than a fish net hanging behind the counter it looked like the one the lobster got caught in. We couldn’t tell if the waitress was a man or woman not that it mattered Both of us ordered eggs and sausages toast that cost us $ 1.25 each $.25 extra for home fries. That was not to bad we both had about $10.00 each when we left. Actually I had $4.00 more hid in the lining of my seat.

We did not stray from Rte 27. we stopped before noon under a couple of big elm trees for a rest we both fell asleep. About an hour later something woke me, I don’t sleep as deep as Ray does, I sort of opened 1 eye and black police car just made a
U turn and stopped across from where we were sleeping. We thought we were in some kind of problem but he just asked where we were going. Montauk I replied I don’t know what else I told him. I said just a trip to see things we couldn’t do on a summer vacation. I couldn’t think what else to say,,, He just said to take it easy. Don’t get lost!

After he left Ray said we should have told him we just camp in peoples back yards or in there gardens. By my Stewart Warner odometer we have only gone 64 miles. The police car was black 51 Ford with 2 red bubble lights. We were finally on the road again we had about 50 miles to go to Montauk. We took our time and got to the park on the Montauk Point about 5 o’clock. Our hunger pangs were keeping us from what we planned on doing here. But some what worse than that, Rays pants were so stiff he couldn’t pedal any more. We found a marshy inlet that went under the road about 3 miles from Hither Hills Park. This was just out of the park, we made sure no cars were coming then we hid the bikes another 50 ft up the stream, which was about 6 or 7 ft wide maybe 2 ft deep. Without looking to see if anyone could see us Ray divested himself of his pants. His leg was real purple. He scrubbed his pants with some sand and cattail leaves. It didn’t seem to have much effect.

I think he will apply to the circus as the 1/2 man 1/2 grape monster. This is not funny said Ray. It was even less funny when he tried to get the soaked heavy denims back on.

“I can’t get them back on.” Ray exclaimed

I thought it was funny anyway as I started on the way back to the road.

“Hay don’t leave”

He finally got them on most of the way. It must have felt horrible; he was really walking like he crapped himself. We realized we couldn’t camp in Hither Hills Park; for one thing you had to have a permit and a tent or something for a base. We finally found a store a place to buy some food.

We had no stove so hot dogs were out. We did buy about 2 1/2 lbs of cold cuts a loaf of bread a half lb of butter and a pie of course a couple sodas. We spent between the two of us about $8.00. To face the next day 1 had about $5.00 and Ray had about $4.00. How far this would take us we had no clue at all. We found a dirt road of sorts about 2/1/2 miles from Hither Hills Park. We could pedal our bikes the first 150 ft after that you had to get off and push. We were trying to find the safest place and also the most comfortable spot. The entire area was soft white sand we would get off our bikes, lie on the sand and see how it rated. The further you went in the whiter and softer the sand became. There seemed to be more tracks of dune buggies ( I don’t think any car could make it more than 20 ft .) I don’t think they were called dune buggies back then.

There were tracks everywhere some tracks were smaller possibly trucks or 4 wheel drive jeeps or motorcycles. We found a nice stand of pines that seemed just right. We had our camp set up just the way we liked it. It was near dark when we finished our “Supper” . With the scent of pine needles and the soft sand, we fell asleep with little thought of all the stupid things we did that day


Some where around midnight I woke up and put new batteries in all the flash lights. Except for a real dim glow in the west it was pitch black. The only redeeming thing was every 30 seconds there was a flash in the east. We figured that must be the lighthouse light as that was about 4 miles to the east. I guess both of us gave up sleeping for a while it must have been cloudy, as we couldn’t stars.

“Lets take a walk down one of the buggy tracks.” said Ray. “and see if it leads anywhere.”

“We can hardly see anything.” I said, “If we just stay in the car tracks we can’t get lost.”

I didn’t like that idea at all. But what the heck my Incoblock said it was 12:30 there sure didn’t seem anyone would be stupid enough to drive around in this quick sand in the middle of the night…. We covered the bikes around with the tablecloth and then covered that with pine branches. The spot we were camping on was about 6 ft higher than the road, you would nearly have to walk up to it to see it. We set off to the North and followed the deeper tracks. We took 3 flashlights 2 with new batteries (see by now) we new what we were doing. We would flash one of them every 10 ft or so to make sure we followed the right tracks. There were no landmarks to go by. The tracks wound around the pine trees they all looked alike in the dark. The trees suddenly seemed Alien to us. When we turned on the flashlights along the way and could make out the trees as well as the tire tracks every thing looked wrong. The road (trails) criss-crossed back and forth over the main trail, Now we were not sure we were even on the main trail were our bikes should be. We went a few hundred more feet and got back to the main highway, so we passed the bikes back there somewhere. We went back and retraced the main highway to where we started. There was only that one road that led back to ware our bikes should have been. We knew we couldn’t be more than 300 ft from the main road. We criss crossed back and forth. Where the hell did those dumb bikes get to?

If I didn’t know better I would swear we never were in this place. We knew where Rte 27 was, that was in the same place. We wracked our brain trying to remember something about the spot where we left them. We new it was well camouflaged that sure didn’t help us. About 2:30 we gave up, we both were in tears now. How are we going to explain this to anyone out here? We felt like complete asses, so we sat on the edge of the pines trying to imagine what comes next.

Well I guess things have to improve what else can happen? Just then I felt a drop of rain. No it can’t rain! It started to drizzle, we started to get wet but I guess the bikes are warm and cozy beneath that waterproof tablecloth. We might better go back in the pines the bigger trees usually stayed pretty dry right underneath for awhile. I went up the 3 ft bank from the trail to get to a dryer area. I went about 25 feet and tripped over a piece of iron and went ass over head ( one of my fathers favorite sayings) My hand went through the spokes on the front wheel, I could not pull my hand out. We were in total darkness it would be a good trick if you had a light with you. Ray fumbled around trying to bend the spokes by force. To pull 3 at once is a feat, if we could only see a little. All our batteries were now dead except the spotlight in front , the thing that was bright enough but it was now focused on a pine tree about 200 ft away. That did nothing to let us see what we were trying to do.

“We need a big screw driver,” said Ray.

“I have that big army knife,” I said. “that would probably work.”

Where is it?”
“In the tank,” I replied.

“How do we get in the tank?”

“With a key.” I answered. “that is in the tank so I won’t lose it. Get it open however you can.”

Ray pried the tank open with a can opener. But we still could not see. The two bikes were still stuck together.

“Wait a minute.” I said

I noticed the tablecloth was white on the bottom, if we hang it up on a branch and turn the spot light on it, it should reflect back to where. I guess that was the only smart thing we did on that trip. The front wheel lost 2 spokes and 2 others were pulled back fairly strait. We had to ruin 2 more spokes on Ray’s rear wheel. It took us about an hour to fix the bikes and tie things down. We felt like a rag tag hobo outfit when we got to the Sunrise Hwy, Rte 27. We must have lowered property values were ever we stopped. We were pooped. We sat on our bikes trying to decide to turn left and go the rest of the way to Montauk Point or turn right and head for home. We both really wanted to turn right. That would be disappointing to others and we probably be branded as wimps. So we left and continued on to Montauk about another 7 or 8 miles. We stopped and had a breakfast 4 eggs each toast and coffee and both of us grabbed 2 big donuts. We spent another $2.50 each. After this meal Ray had $2.00 and I had the $4,00 hid under the seat. We took a ride down to where there were docks. Just to see what they were catching. We found a few docks that had mostly bluefish. Several docks from there was a boat that had brought in several tiger sharks. It was about 11:00 am when we headed for home. About 2 hours later we reached East Hampton it was a relief to get back to familiar territory. We arrived back at the gas station in Riverhead at about 2:30.

I don’t who was in worse shape us or the bikes. Rays Columbia lost the complete front headlight and his chain guard was wiped out as was half the back fender. The bike had a lost its look, of course, it was full of mud and sand, was missing 7 spokes, and 4 others repaired. My Roadmaster was missing 4 spokes, 2 rear taillights and the horn shorted out. The sand and mud did the Roadmaster no fevers. It looked like we lost a country road race. Besides being filthy dirty and all my clothes smelled like a barn every thing we wore was still wet. Other than Ray trying to find a job, other than 1/2 purple monster in a circus, we don’t know where we will go from here……

Bill Reeves 10/11/10

FUTURE: SOUND BANKS DRIVE IN FUN

Montauk or Bust

I originally had planned on writing about automobiles first. However it would be more interesting if I started with the bicycles and the transition between the too. Actually the first two wheel bike we had was a lost 2 wheel bike that had 12” wheels it was just about the right size for my sister Nancy. Nancy had a 2-wheel bike before I did. This little 2 wheeler was the first bike we had and that was in 1942 it wasn’t until 1944 that the first balloon tired bike appeared at our house. My brother would on occasion come home with another bike. He gave me the last one he brought home in 1948. This bike was a 1932 Elgin. I remember it had 3 bars that curved down from the seat up to the handlebars. It was an odd looking bike with those 3 bars it might have been a girls bike I didn’t care. I liked it and it was the fastest bike in town. I had that bike for five years. It always struck me funny that nearly every kid in the neighborhood had a bike but they usually got bored with them. Most of the kids this far out took the bus. Ray and I stopped taking the bus about 1945. The Greenport school had a strange bike cellar you went down a cement ramp about 45 ft and depending how wet the ramp was that is how much you slammed into the double doors at the bottom. Sometimes there was a slight panic as several bikes got stuck together. You had to be familiar with the” dark“ because the room was and equipment room that had not light. You had to make a right turn through a unfinished 8 ft wide opening into the bike stanchion area. This room was about 28 ft wide and dark but not as dark as the back half of the room where most of the bikes were kept. You just wanted to get home without getting mugged, so grab the nearest bike and go. My first bike was stolen so I borrowed another from the bike\cellar.

When my brother quit school about 1948 he brought home the Elgin and said he would give it to me for $5.00 that was a bargain, I guess we both stole it. I had the Elgin for 5 years until 1950. I was still a bike person I know for a fact I spent more time on my bike than anybody in Greenport. I was interested in cars about as much as riding my bike.

Ray and I went to Orient St Park, Patchogue, Shelter Island and the Brecknok Hall. Of course you have to realize living on Sterling Creek, we committed half of our time to fishing, crabbing, camping and exploring. 1950 was a banner year for both Ray and I. That spring I was offered a job on Speeches farm. I had no desire to work any farm job and Speeches farm was not rated too high in places to work. Its not that they didn’t pay well, that didn’t even occur to me. I was getting
75 cents an hour, you cant beat that. Anyway I worked there for about 3 weeks. The owner said I wasn’t picking fast enough. Anyway he let me go after the third week. I found out that they were paying the migrant workers 50 cents an hour and they were mistreating them. I guess at the time they could get away with any thing. The only thing that if I was worked there all summer I would complain to the owner about his boss man. This boss man would go down under a big apple tree with a big bottle of water. This was in the hot part of the day the temperature was over 90 out in the field. We were to hoe about 500 ft of plants (the length of the field) and it took nearly an hour. When the first one work got back to where the boss man was waiting he would make everyone wait for a drink until they all got back. Then he would go out and check about 50 ft of each row the one that had the most weeds he could find would not get any water that time. If that happened the next day we all said we would walk out!

Anyway that first job let me finally buy the dream bike I was dreaming about. This bike had it all. It was called the Roadmaster Luxury Liner. Terry’s bike shop in down town Greenport had got the first one in the area. It was just a dream. I had no way of getting that bike. The bike had red and black tank with metal ribs in the back, the biggest headlight in the bike business, a dual horn with 2 6-volt batteries, a stoplight and flashing rear directional, and a luggage carrier over the back fender. This particular bike had two additional bomb shape lights on rear fender supports. I bought it and had a Stewart Warner speedometer and odometer and rear view mirror added. Lets not forget the big dual springs in place of the front fork that was a conversational piece as long as I owned it. The Roadmaster Company only had one complaint from customers; it was that the kids were staying out later at night because light. A funny thing about that is I remember doing that same thing. I went down town, to the library and just about all the back streets on this side of town with all my lights flashing. I must have looked like a Christmas tree coming down the road.
Just a point of interest that I researched on the internet, in 1998 the company Hammecher & Schlemmer bought the tooling to make 5000 new bikes and sold every one for $3000 there are several un-restored bikes for $ 1500.
Ray and I had taken quite a few field trips on our older bikes. We actually had more dangerous trips out in the wild and windy seas in the hunting seasons in the early 50’s. It’s amazing we lived through those 3 years, but this about our Montauk trip.

We had a little work and planning for this trip. The good thing about it thought so far is that both Ray and I got new bikes about the same time. Rays bike was a Columbia a blue tank bike. We had been to Riverhead once as an experiment with the new bikes just a turn around to see what it would be like. What made us pick this little gas station in Riverhead for a stopping place we never knew? A young man came out and greeted us.
“WOW” he said, “will you look at the bike out there, you’ll never seen anything like it.” He yelled for the guys in back to come see. They were amazed; he said, “They just came from Greenport. How the hell can you pedal that much weight, how much does that thing weigh. I think I read somewhere around 70 lbs. We should weigh it on our old scale in the back. ” T

They apparently didn’t have any thing better to do so we let them enjoy themselves. The Roadmaster weighed 79 lbs and Rays Columbia 63 lbs. They were both too heavy; an English bike of the same era was about 30lbs, and a lightweight racing bike about22 lbs.

We did one timed run from Greenport to Riverhead without going all out we did the 25 miles in 1 hour 8 minuets. With our English bike the best time was 56 minuets. Peter Reyes did the time of 52 minutes Pete was flying low.

We wanted to take a weekend that the schools would be still in session because we didn’t want to compete with the traffic. The second weekend in June seemed the best, which gave us 10 days to get every thing together. We had bike camped before so we new what we needed to a point. We usually just bird watched so we would leave like Friday afternoon about 6 o’clock. We would set up a primitive camp usually within 5 or 6 miles of home. We would wander around until dark.
It stayed light in June until 8, we were worn out by then,
The next day we explored the area and checked out the birds.

This trip to Montauk will be totally different it would be more road time. We plan on leaving the house 7 o’clock, a stop at the first checkpoint the gas station (Riverhead) for coffee about 8:30. June 10 1951, I checked to see if he was up this was up there were no lights on in his room and my Bell tone incabloc watch said it was 6:45. I figured I would check my bike over one more time. I did sort of last minute come up with a better way to hold things on the luggage rack in the back. There was a couple of old inner tubes from the Elgin bike I had. They were kind of holey but by cutting them in half I had couple good pieces that could really stretch tight. You could knot it and stretch it around the luggage rack and the seat. I had the 2 6volt batteries in the tank, 8 D batteries for the backlights and 1 flashlight in the tank. I, also, had 4 packages of cupcakes, split homemade loaf of bread, and 2 bottles of soda with paper towel wrapped around them so they would not brake. Other than that I had my favorite army knife and scabbard, behind the seat. I had a handmade sleeping bag, Rays Grandmother made them when we first went camping about 4 years ago. They were made out of canvas so they repelled water (some times) rolled inside was a blanket and 2 towels along with a change of underwear and socks. Both Ray and I pondered over any thing else we would really need.

Ray finally came to the door what time is it, we were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago. Rays bike looked like a fugitive bagman’s in N.Y City. Ray had a large over size roll behind the seat it was double the size of mine then behind that was another roll that might have been a plastic table cloth with various strings and ropes holding every thing down. That was bad enough he had a burlap bag on each side over the fender tied with a couple more ropes.

Ray said, “wait a minute he let me hold his bike while he went back for more food”

What the…. Ray had two boxes of Dugan donuts. Rays sister had a party the night before and they had all kinds of crap left over I hoped this wasn’t a going away party for Ray…because I sure couldn’t eat all that. I held the bag open as he threw inn 4 cans of Vienna sausages one of his favorite things, just one more thing there had been a pumpkin squash meringue pie that no one would eat. I was pretty sure that same pie was still sitting there from a week ago he wrapped a towel around the pie and jammed it in next to a big jar of grape jam and peanut butter.

“Lets get going” I said “those guys in the garage are gonna think we backed out.”

Ray said “don’t worry about that we will get there.”

As we shoved off before Ray even got on his Columbia. ” Boy this pushes hard I wonder why?”

I stammered, “I don’t think we were going to the Sahara desert where you couldn’t find food”

“I just don’t want to be hungry.”

Every camping trip we took, we always had double what we needed. I just hope that every place we go is down hill it looks like we are gonna do a lot of walking. We hardly got to the main road Rays bike was wobbling back and forth the load he had was top heavy and looked like it was coming apart already.

I said. “ STOP…. your gonna lose everything!”

So begrudgingly we retied most of the mess. My incoblock said it was nearly 8:30. We finally were moving we passed Moores Woods and were about to pass the labor camp on the hill; this was still the Main Road. We started down hill before we got down to the Main Rd Ray stopped.

We had every foot of this trip planned. We could keep going on the North road (Middle road), which was a mass of potholes and construction all the way to Riverhead. Or, if we cut over to route 25 hear on Chapel Hill Rd. (its only about a mile south). Then if we stayed on the North road to Riverhead, the Island is wider at that point so its only a mile if we cross over here but 5 miles to cross at this point so we took Chapel hill rd (next to drive in movie) no longer there today.

We finally were sailing along past what was then Sills Dairy where Ray and I Both worked in 1952. However we just can’t seem to go a mile without some fool thing…Of course this was not in our plans and we forgot one major thing it was major to us anyway we forgot that famous RR bridge. The dumbest RR over pass on L.I.. The road to it was quite flat there should have been a gradual up grade for a car it isn’t even noticeable but on a bike it was pretty tough to make that grade in that short distance. We bike to the bridge on our lunch breaks school it was about 15 minutes from school about 5 miles we probably biked there once a week. It was a neat place (under the bridge) no matter what the weather. Of course, somebody always has to add the worst graffiti on the 25 ft of walls some was artistic most gross some due to a overactive imagination. The worst Ray and I did on the bridge was to try to drop pennies in the smoke stack of a steam engine. Yes there were still steam engines, we caught 7 or 8 going under the bridge when we were on top. We biked quite a few times over the bridge because Rays father worked at Goldsmiths on our lunch brake it was not to hard, but with a bike with 60 lbs too much no way! Of course, going down the other side you had to brake even with a normal load.

I let Ray go first. I warned him to use his brakes all the way down. Well he braked about half the way down, he was doing about 30 near the bottom he was weaving back and forth finally with all the crap he was carrying there was a crash and Ray went over the guard rail and his Columbia followed. When I got to him he was on the top of the Bike.

Ray said, “I think I broke my leg it’s bleeding all the way down to my foot. “
He did have some pretty bad bruises (we didn’t find until the next day). His leg how ever if it was bleeding that bad, we had better get help. “
My leg feels ok he ran his fingers down the side. Wait!” Ray replied “I think its grape jelly”

When we finally got the large broken jar of grape jelly it was stirred in with two dozen jelly Dougans finest not to mention that pie that would remain forever a mystery…At least I didn’t have to worry about hurt anybody’s feelings. After we got every back together, Ray had purple pants and a purple shirt. The smell of peanut butter was sickening. We were ready to hang it up But there was a miracle Goldsmith Boatyard was just ahead only about a half mile. We were lucky none of our spokes broke there were about 10 badly bent and 10 more that had to be, fixed eventually. When they found out what we were doing all three of the workers there helped us. We were off again about 1:30. Ray called the garage and told them we were going to be a little late about 6/l/2 hours late.

We got to the gas station bout 3:30. They still had a coffee pot on their camp stove and one of the gas station attendants had his girl friend with him. Its funny we had only met these guys a couple months ago but they treated us like long lost friends. They even had cake and cookies. They gave us each a flag to attach to our fender. We felt like big shots going through Riverhead. We went through town and hit Rte 24 Riverhead Hampton Bays Rd.
We continued east on Route 25 (Sunrise Highway). We just followed the main road signs, we didn’t have much choice since we had no maps. I don’t know what we were thinking. We weren’t that’s the problem we went thru Flanders about 4bally didn’t know what to expect. I hate to travel the main roads in the gutters in the early 1950s most of the roads were in pretty poor condition. The roads in the business districts were kept fairly neat but the outlying roads deteriorated as you left the business districts some of the back roads had the look
Of some one just dropping everything and going to war. We saw some minor construction but it looked like a poverty area for sure. We got to the Big Duck. It actually wasn’t open because it was past 5 o’clock. However, there were 5 or 6 cars there so seeing us was probably enough curiosity for one day.

Stay Tuned for the rest of the trip.

Bike's
Red one is Bill's
Blue one is Ray's
Brown is a 1936-38 Elign Robin
Other Red one is a 1938 Mercury

Rum Running

Rays Grandfather told us stories of just about anything that came to mind. This recollection of Rum Running Times is from his own memories. How true or not I just am repeating things as he remembered them. It was in the late 1920s early 1930s quote at times boats would appear at any one of the east end shipyards with damage from not so friendly fire from the Coast Guard boats. Usually from machine gun fire sometimes a larger caliber would require more major work….. There was no shortage of work at that time. There were even some modified boats (speed boats} that were being built in Greenport and surrounding areas if you wanted to work there was no unemployment in Greenport. 

Some of these boats were not made to get away from the Coast Guard boats however.  Some speedboats were just made to be decoys; they would just hang out in a preset area when the Coast Guard got close enough. They even had dummy loads in the back of these boats. From a distance they seemed real enough to get the Guard interested they would follow these dummy boats meanwhile the real boot legers got away. By the time The Coast guard realized that the boat they were chasing was a dummy boat. It was a dangerous job but somebody had to do it.  In the beginning it was kind of fun and there was some easy money to be made.

Of course things like that never last and it gradually became more dangerous. As for the coast guard there job was becoming more dangerous as many Rumrunners boats were getting more powerful motors, better armed and could shoot back.  The Rum Runners had to find places to hide their boats in the daytime they sandwiched some of their boats between fishing boats moored at docks or some places like fuel terminals or other places having high docks. The runners would hide their boats under the docks during the day. The coast Guard did not have the man-power or enough boats to cover hundreds of hideouts that were readily available and most dock owners were not about to turn in bootleggers most were blind to what was going on, as it sure was no advantage in turning them in. Some of the bootleggers were friends or neighbors and most of the business owners were losing money as long as prohibition goes on.  On a somewhat humorous note some of the larger boats would use the Railroad dock as their base of operation on one side of the dock. The Coast Guard on the other hand parked (moored) their Coast Guard boats on the other side of the dock. Why who knows for sure maybe it would have been a to volatile situation in the middle of town, they must have had a truce at the railroad dock.  For some of the locals, there were those who liked to go up to the sound at night and watch the tracers from the Coast Guard boats.

There was a speedboat of some kind that was left in Bishops boat yard in the 1930s.  Who left it there had added a side to one of the work sheds so in affect it was well hidden why who knows.  It was boarded up on all sides no doors or windows.

When Ray and I began to spend a lot of time in his

Grandfather’s shipyard in the late 1940s we had asked about the mystery boat in the shipyard. Mr. Bishop was not to keen on that boat. He talked enough about Boot

Legging and Rum Running in general. But he didn’t budge an inch on talking about it.  A couple of years went by, Ray was spending more time painting and other minor repairs that his grandfather couldn’t handle.

One day Ray said “What the heck, lets see if we can make a big enough hole without damaging the building.” 

It was a pretty substantial room. All the outside boards were 10 to 12 ft long it were nailed with 4-inch nails.  Just to get one board off you would have to damage the board.  

Ray had been working on restoring a 1929 Packard in the room next to “the secret boat room”.  I had been helping with the Packard; we spent some time searching for parts on weekends when he was home from school. 

The boat being so close (within 6 feet) all this time. We somehow convinced our selves to see if we could make a hole in the wall just enough to get a glimpse inside.  It was more of a job than we had thought.  If we ruined a board it would be years before any one found out about it.  Ray had started removing the boards from the inside before I got there and they apparently had covered the wall with another wall. Without taking the entire wall down and that might not be a good idea, Ray got a drill and saw from the shop, I never had that much trouble tearing any thing down .The wall they covered over was standard wood but the wall they covered it with was the old real 2-inch wide stuff 10 to 12 ft long with 4” nails. It was dark enough in the room that we were in. So obviously we needed a flashlight. Of course the time it took to find a light all the old spirits were leaking out of the hole in the wall. That boat had been in the dark for probably 50 years and for what reason we still could not guess. When Ray tried to shine the flashlight beam into the room the light seemed to shine back to us as total darkness.  It seemed the blackness in the room sucked the light from the flashlight or even worse the past was not going to allow the boat to show itself in the present. I never experienced a blackness so complete, When our eyes got used to the dark and Ray thought to open the overhead door where he had been working on his 1929 Packard, We got a little more reflected light through the whole in the wall. With out making the hole any bigger Ray could only see part of one side.  It did have a mahogany deck and it was of lapstake design.  It just seemed to long for the width of the boat by our measurements.  It was 21 ft long and possibly 5 ft wide.  The boat was put facing the main road so we got only a view of the port side from the stern to about where the windshield was (at one time) the glass and the frame was missing.  The Chrome centerpiece was still there. We could not see any further damage without taking more of the wall down.  Ray had been working summers and weekends at a Chris raft dealers so he was somewhat familiar with boats and he thought it might be a modified boat or one designed in the late 20s as it looked kind of narrow for the length. Rays father died in the early 1960s Ray was in college and not much was mentioned about the boat.  We were not sure when the boat disappeared from the boat yard it was gone before my friend had much to do with it. When Rays Grandfather died there was no great interest in the shipyard and every thing became a little haphazard.  It was no longer a viable shipyard after 1960.

Just as point of interest when Grandpa Bishop was still operating the yard although 90% of the yard was defunct. We had free run of the place and Ray, my Sister Nancy, Maloney and I pretty well explored all there was, including the building that had the major shop on the ground floor. The next building attached to that one had a boat building area and above that area about 30 ft by 40 ft was some kind of strange storage area with about 10,000 corks there were barrels of different sizes and maybe several hundred empty bottles.  When we wandered around up there we had no idea what they did with all the corks and bottles there were other strange things up there as well.  Several ships bells were something I would recognize.  All those corks might have something with repackaging alcoholic beverages I doubt you would ever buy corks by the barrel.  There were undoubtedly many people who had jobs who didn’t do any rum running.  Another little ditty was the people of Orient were catching colds and enjoying it more.   Legend has it those special smugglers had a special east run to the Orient Ice Yacht Club.    So for a few years the Eastend had off shore a floating kingdom 12 miles from the coast from the harbors of Greenport and Montauk to the bays and other hideaways.  It has been said there were still several rumrunner boats plying the waters of Long Island. They survived somehow until 1970 at least I knew of one still there after that date about 1985 it sure looked the part. It was a 65 ft fishing boat with armor plates on bow and sides, it may be still there I don’t know as for the name I can’t say but I have seen this sort of ghost ship back in the days of hunting on L. I.  In the 1950s and the name was the same. I am not positive if it’s the same boat I never researched it further.

 

E.L.I Rum Runners    Bill Reeves 2/15/09

Out houses not in houses

Beyond the outhouses what could there be even kings

Were not beyond such things. Even the cats were working towards that goal. They have already learned to dig a hole and bury it, but now the litter box came along and all the ideas about improving their own outhouses went out the window. After all they have been digging holes to bury their poop for a few hundred thousand years and we just got the idea a few hundred years ago to find a way to hide ours.

Most animals do not bury their poop they just let it go were they may.  Can you imagine a herd of 150,000 Zebras or even 10,000 camels trying to dig holes they sure have not come very far. Maybe all these stampedes you see on television is because the only safe way for these big herds is to go is to have them all go at the same time and then get the h--- out of that spot in a hurry (that’s why the stampede)

Moving to manor Place in Greenport in 1936 gave us no respite from outhouses. Of course, we had the 2 and a half whole in the backyard at Manor place. The house we moved from had the remnants of an outhouse still there, so we were familiar with what they looked like.  I guess we had to move to Manor place to find out how they worked, it seemed as soon as they got indoor plumbing we had to move. I guess we were the outcasts at the very least outhouses. The outhouse on Manor Place was usable at least for a couple more years. It would only blow over in a bad storm maybe once or twice a year.  There were 3 or 4 boards in the back missing it was right against Zipka’s fence.  I don’t know who would ok such a spot. The Zipka's yard was real narrow it was sure no more than 40 ft from our outhouse. If they wanted to sit out in the yard their major view was our backhouse or the rear view of our quaint fallen down shed. When they had a family get together and Polish people always do, they would bring chairs maybe 10 or more and sit around and have a backhouse barbeque. I never liked the beer barrel polka but it may have competion from the backhouse polka. I’m pretty sure during the day anyway you couldn’t see inside it was dark but at night you may be able to if you had a flashlight. Mom or somebody had pieces of sears catalogue stuffed in the knotholes that would spring a new one every so often. It was a good thing the outhouse would blow over as that was a chance to dig a hole next to the outhouse and flip it over, we had to have help for that and it took at least 3 adults and maybe a 8 year old kid to flip it. We used the new dirt we dug out for the outhouse to cover up the old stuff….It was a chore but we got used to it.  I think the lilac bushes helped. There were 6 outhouses on the block 3 were still in use in the early 1940s by 1945 only one was active all but one had Lilac bushes. My friend Rays grand parents had a large backhouse arbor. the best grapes you ever ate. My sister Nancy could never pass them by. I’m sure there were a few seasons we went over more than once, we sure would be sad to miss a season. The grapes were so big about the size of a quarter you could not handle more than one bunch. 

Ray’s Grandmother was a wizard before her time even though she was stone deaf she could read lips better than most people can talk. She never failed to amaze us, and we were often impressed by her amazing abilities.  Ray and I for a long time wondered a why his Grandma kept all these mayonnaise (metal) lids filledwith water. She always filled them every day they\They were  they were in every room , down stairs any way. There were also some in the area around the outhouse……  What were these used for? ……Guess. Ray’s Grandmother put them in these strategic places for the blowflies and green flies to wash there feet off before walking across your piece of pie.  If you are a fly watcher you will see them do this, I thought it was pretty sanitary of them to clean their little hands and antennas. I have seen these little dishes in several places, there never seemed to be plants in them.  Just goes to show ya live and learn. 

There were plenty outhouses still popular in the 1940’s I remember a famous outhouse in back of the Townsend Manor. We took a short cut instead of going up to the Episcopal Church and down 3 blocks to our house; there was a well-worn path from Townsend’s to the beginning of the creek. The outhouse right on the water it was a convenient stopping place. The only problem it was in the next gang’s area. You had to check for signs of life before walking past it if you noticed anything suspicious you had to go back. The gang only caught me once they made a big deal of how they were going to beat the h—out of me then throw me in the crick I was shaking in my shoes.  I had no idea how I was going to get through this one.  The only way I could think of winning a fight was one of the few fights I had with a foe that I knew I could easily defeat. He out weighed me by 40 lbs but he was in bad shape for a 15 year old kid. I said do you give up or what I have other things to do. Do you give up no…then he blew his nose all over my shirt and jacket.  (He won.) This time might be not that easy 4 against 1, but I thought why not give it a try. When the first boy grabbed my shirt I said wait a minute I feel like I have to vomit I have been sick all day and I am sorry I hate when I puke get it all over every body. Suddenly a couple of the guys looked a little green if you are ready to see this and they all backed off oh let the little sissy go we will get another chance go get out of hear.  So I got out of that one scott free.  Its funny how things work out.  The guy that blew his nose over me became a good friend we even went camping with him and he gave me his best bicycles. His name was Jack J-----.  

The demise of the outhouse gang came in an unexpected way. There was a relative of some one in the Townsend’s family. We always had the impression he was retarded in some way. A girl in my 7^th grade class mentioned him to me as a nature lover and she had a feeling he would like me. She mentioned that they just had about 50 new chickens and they were blue, red, green and yellow. I couldn’t believe that. I think the girl’s name was Margaret (Margo) anyway; we went down after school and I met him I made a big fuss over all the baby chicks and I hit it off right away with Tom. They even took me up to the house it was a couple houses from the Towns and Manor. This family even had a maid and I think a cook. They were impressed with my interests and that I got along so well with this boy…I could see he might seem that way because he was 15 and in 7^th grade but he was already 6 foot tall probably 200 lbs (I was 15 and 5ft 6 125 lbs so his size and being somewhat clumsy made him seem a little backwards but he was surly not that. I explained about the gang. He defiantly didn’t like that. Especially when it wasn’t even there property. We will change that pretty quick. Well there are 5 in there gang I can’t see what we can do I said. We let it go for a while until he came up with a plan. He showed me his plan to get rid of all of them at once.  The outhouse sat right were the land dropped off about 2 and a half feet high in the back. Tom showed me his plan without the back supports holding the out house in the back it had not long before it ended up in the creek any way. He was just going to help it along a bit by tying a rope to the last board holding it up. He was going to hide in the thick bushes about 50 ft from the outhouse. If we were lucky they would all be in the outhouse hiding. Two girls friends of Toms would pass close enough so the guys would hear them from inside the outhouse to be the bait but the gang would likely leave the girls alone and would wait for 1 or 2 kids to pass by but it was pretty slim pickins lately for most of the kids now were avoiding it altogether.  Tom was firmly ensconced in the thick brush around the outhouse along with 50 ft of rope he had removed 3 boards holding the back of the outhouse down when he pulled hard on the rope the board broke pretty easy but the results were a surprise.  Actually all 4 guys were right behind the door all the Weight was in front and in that case what happened?  The outhouse fell over forwards with the door facing down. They were trapped like rats there was no way out.  The only way out was through the s--- holes and Evan wouldn’t fit. All this time I was hiding behind the curved parking lot behind the Townsend Manor, it was about 10 ft higher than the outhouse area, there were several rowboats and a sailboat moored out there at the time.  It was hard to hear their muffled yells for at least 3 hours. The town constable went over to cut them out. One of the kid’s fathers who saw nothing wrong with what they were doing, was asked what four of them were doing in the outhouse at the same time. They couldn’t answer that question.  We never did see them again in the area, if they showed up again the owner said they would be thrown in jail and call them the s---house gang.

 After those little ditties the only real good outhouses were the ones the Scouts used in Moors Woods that were decorated by unrealistic artists.  The real fantastic artists were on the underside of the Rail Road Bridge going over the tracks in Cutchogue over Rte 25.  There were quite a few artists under that bridge, also a secret meeting place for as far back as the stone bridge existed.  They just don’t make them like they used too.

 Bill Reeves  5/2009

 

1938 Hurricane Pictures

Maps of early Greenport

Gray house mine
House across the street (Ray's) the white one
Storms on Long Island Sound and the Ocean

1938 Hurricane

I still have occasional dreams of the 1938 hurricane in 2009. It was such a traumatic thing and it stuck in my mind forever. Until I was about 20 or so it was a reoccurring nightmare but I can still remember it like it happened yesterday.

Our house was just across the street on the corner across from the ELI Hospital. It was on that spot from 1870 until 1970 until it along with 4 other houses was torn down for a parking lot,
The only thing I can recollect from that time was the day before meeting Ray Bishop, who became a life long friend for over 65 years. I remember this day before the storm because Ray’s mom and Grandmother were out in his backyard and Ray had to show me his new swing in the big White Birch behind the white picket fence in the middle of his yard. The traumatic thing I saw happen to that tree the next day made that tree permanently etched in my mind.

That day of the storm didn’t seem like any thing unusual was happening as a matter of fact it had been raining pretty hard off an on. This was the first day that I could finally stay out. There were pretty big puddles everywhere. About noon several housewives were out in front of their houses, which was strange to me. My mom wasn’t much into conversations with neighbors, but she went out to see if she could catch something going on.

Meanwhile across the street in Ray Bishops backyard and Pell’s fish market there was always at least one boat at the bulkhead (docks). There was some fishing boats coming and going every day. Usually the smaller 20-25 ft fishing boats would be permantly moored at Ray’s Grandfather (Bishops Boat Yard). In summer there would be 10 or 12 private pleasure boats docked there Most of them would be dry-docked by the end of September. In this case the people who had there boats taken out of the water before the storm had a lot less to worry about Of course I knew little of what was going on out on the docks at that time.

In the summer as many as 20 fishing boats and private boats were docked there but by this date there were only 5 or 6 boats still docked the owners of the boats still there just had to take their chances. In the rest of Sterling creek there were probably 25 or thirty boats still out there but a little to late to do any thing about them at this point in time. However, Sterling Creek was known as a place for a safe harbor for many storms it was pretty closed in on 3 sides and it was shaped to hold any real storm surges back from this end of the creek at least.

There was more static and noise coming from Pell’s dock from the ship to shore radios than usual. It seemed the squawking had a more anxious sound about it than usual. It always seemed to have a desperate sound to it even under normal conditions I could not understand them. There was more traffic than usual down our street Mom told me to stay in the yard. There was an unusual amount of cars and trucks at the hospital we sure didn’t know what to make of it. It was getting scarier now. The Syrett family lived next to us. They had 4 boys but only one of them was of school age Dick was five Fred was about three and John about 1 the forth and last one was about 6 months old and his name somehow escapes me.

A fire truck went over to the hospital and was there only about five minuets then it drove out the hospital exit. I was surprised when it stopped in front of Syrett's house (I didn’t know at the time but Mr. Syrett was a volunteer of the Greenport fire dept).

They had reports of some kind of a storm coming up the coast but it had disappeared a few hours ago they thought it might hit the Jersey coast in a few hours. Meantime, Rays grandfather was working on the docks. His radio had a warning from several boats about 100 miles off Montauk of getting warnings from other boats further out that there was a bad storm to the west of their location (probably 250 miles from shore). About the same time the schools and fire departments were told there was an impending storm possibly a hurricane turning towards Long Island, apparently moving too fast to keep track of.

About 1:00 the school got notice that they might close the schools. The Greenport School apparently did not have a procedure for this.

The sky had in the past hour took on a not too friendly look. The mothers out there with kids still in school and had cars, grabbed their keys and headed to the school. Even by that time the wind began to kick up and it was about 50 mile pet hour already. The school decided to let the younger kids go home. By the time they closed the school altogether the winds were already 75mph. The Syrett's next door were the only people with a plan. Both of their kids waited at the school inside the front door. There were branches everywhere some were getting bigger they had to dodge several down trees, but Mrs. Syrett knew her away around and got home safe about 2:00. By this time we had no electricity that was nothing strange to us. Mom and I were indoors by the time the winds reached 75 mph we were not about to go out side again.

Mrs. Syrett said to my Mom that she saw no sign of our kids around the school but her son Dick said he saw Alton and 3 or 4 boys left early. It may have been a good thing some of the kids left ahead of time, as the wind was only 25 or 30 at that time.

It was scary to me as the wind picked up from about 20 mph, when Mom made me come in. Within about 15 or 20 minuets the winds got to 75 mph. Several downstairs windows blew in at the same time, 2 kitchen windows and a living room window.

“Where is daddy? “I said’

Mom hadn’t the foggiest where he could be, but he left work in the shipyard about 1:00 and made it to the first 100 ft Elm tree completely blocking two streets. He would have to walk the rest of the way. In less than a hour with winds nearly 110 mph by now, every other Elm was down along with every wire in Greenport, some were alive some were not. Mom didn’t know where Dad was or were Alton and Doris were. She hoped they would stay where they were safe. Mom ushered me upstairs that was her first mistake. My younger sister Nancy she was about 18 months old at that time Mom took her upstairs and put her in the middle of my bed. She was also in a cradle with handles I guess it was easer to carry that way. Mom had covered the whole thing with a couple of blankets. Nancy was oblivious to the whole thing.

The sound of the rain was a lot louder up stairs and even at that point we could hear the house creaking and groaning. The winds at that time was about 50 or 60 mph. There seemed to be a mist in the air more so upstairs. When the wind blew extra hard it felt like the rain was being forced through the walls and that’s what it was doing. There was only one window in my bedroom. It was raining so hard the windows looked like a sheet of ice. I desperately wanted to see Ray’s house across the street, Mom said to keep away from the windows. I just had to have a look when mom went back to the other bedroom I went over to the window. I really could not see anything through the blurry window, but some how I got my wish and had about 10 seconds to see Ray’s house. I now wish I had never looked. I could plainly see Ray’s big White Birch tree, it seemed to turn itself around all the way as if some invisible hand reached out like you would pull weeds from a garden and ripped that tree right out of the ground. It was a shock to me to have witnessed that and I felt bad for that tree for a long time. Needless to say I got away from that window.

The house shook and shuddered. It seemed every minute or so the wind would get under the front of the house and you could feel the house lifting up and the walls groaned and cracked and protest until the wind let it down this kept getting worse. It was almost like being in a boat in the waves, as it seemed to roll from, side to side. The ceiling in my room was forming a pond on one end it began to sag in about a 5 ft by 8 ft area. It was obviously getting heavy and was about to go any second. I called Mom in a panic. Mom had been trying to stem the tide in the other two rooms up stairs with no luck the pressure of the wind blown rain was just too much and all 5 windows were leaking as was all the ceilings. I was trying to pull the crib off the bed to get Nancy from out of way of the avalanche about the same time we could hear breaking glass downstairs.

Mom rushed in the room and pulled the crib and me off the bed in the nick of time. I might have got her out of the way of the ceiling but it would have been close. Mom grabbed the crib just as I had slid one end off the bed. With in 10 seconds the larger piece of ceiling about 8 ft wide came down with about 5 gallons of water. It seemed the house was not trying to protect us and was giving up. Just as we left the room the window I had looked out a few seconds ago gave up and pieces of glass almost made it to where we stood in the hall. It strikes me funny some how that when the house lifted up one way you could hear all of Mom’s cosmetics rolling across the floor and when the wind let it back down you could hear those things roll back the other way. Mom was always so neat with her personal stuff; she liked every thing in its right place. It sure wasn’t in its proper place now.

“OH God where is Daddy?” she said.

Ominous sounds were coming from downstairs, as we stood there on the top of the stairs not really knowing what to do. The house decided it for us in an exceptional long gust of wind twisted the house one way and the stairs the other way. It was hard to know what to hang on too. However, an exceptionally loud thundering crash coming from one of the bedrooms made the choice to head down the stairs. The crash we herd was the top of the brick chimney came through the roof and the ceiling. As we started down the stairs the only incentive was the hall window blowing out just about 4 ft behind me. The stairs were a running stream of water and the outside wall was a sheet of water. The worse part we faced was a real dilemma as the ceiling above the stairs had been building up water and as we went down only 3 steps we realized that it was not just wallpaper hanging down over the stairs it was the ceiling plaster boards and all had collapsed onto the stair railing. We could not budge it with the stairs outside wall and ceiling on the top we were actually in a prison the only way open to slide under the railing and that held about 20 spindles about 7 inches apart.

“Oh God where the heck is Daddy” Mom said.

Just as we sat on the stair “stream bed” we herd the voice of God (which was daddy). He had a crowbar and hammer

Dad said “Hear I am what the hell do you want and who put you to in jail.”

He thought it was kind of funny we sure didn’t. With the crowbar he got us out easily (but he was careful not to damage the spindles). Dad sort of loved wood, and being as he was a finish carpenter, he wouldn’t want to damage anything that had some future woodwork involved.

Dad said we couldn’t get out through the front door, as there was a big spruce tree against it. He told us not to be frightened when we opened the living room door. When we opened the door to cross the living room, we were met with a rainstorm right in the middle of the room! The furniture was in a pile in one corner there, was only one window not broken. We found out why there was a cloud of mist, whenever a strong gust of wind hit the east side of the house. The reason was most of the shingles had blown off that side and in turn the rain and wind blew off the inside plaster walls. The only thing left in that area was the bare lath.

When I first saw that it became another part of my nightmares, the bare lath reminded me of a skeleton that had lost all his skin and his bones were showing through. To see your own home in such a mess was frightening; nothing in the living room was in the same spot I remembered it, even the couch was on its back on the other side of the room. I had never been inside a house that was windy.

The three of us stood I the middle of the living room, Mom and I had our winter coats on that was all we had and my coat was getting heaver by the minute.

“What are we suppose to do?” Mom quipped

Dad had on only a blue shirt and pants and it looked like he had just climbed out of the crick. I remember standing there all three of us holding hands. Dad was only humorous in bad situations, and now apparently was one of them. He was almost in hysterics.

He laughed and said “They say the safest place in any house was a large door way so I guess we just stand in this real safe spot”

There was a large archway between the living room and dining room. We didn’t stand there for long. We were facing the south end of the living room and there was a 50 ft spruce tree against the outside wall. Apparently it pushed against the wall so hard and all the plaster moved at once towards us. I have this scene firmly etched in my mind, because we had a new (plastic) clock on that wall and the entire wall (with the clock staying attached) came towards us. The room was about 12 ft wide; none of us moved and I felt the very top brushing my coat as it landed with a wet whomp. The upside down couch broke its fall somewhat.

“Like I said,” said Dad “there aint no safe spot in this place lets get out of here”

Mom was somewhat furious, that never had any affect on Dad.

“Where the hell were you all this time. The kids and I thought it was the end for us. It sure is a good thing Bill was real good he is usually afraid of every thing I thought any minute he would panic. So where were you?”

Dad was not one to give strait answers, “Well you see its like this me and a couple buddies (other guys) finally worked our way through all the trees and live wires, besides helping some people trapped in their houses and two stupid woman trying to get under a big elm tree by trying to pushing the tree got themselves and two kids trapped because the doors got jammed.”

Dad could see that didn’t impress Mom too much and probably she didn’t believe him anyway, When dad told the truth and somebody didn’t believe him he just made something else up. Sometimes I saw why he did that.

This time he just said, “My buddies and I just sat down on a tree over at the hospital. I could see the house from there. We figured we would wait right there. Sooner or later when the crick got high enough you would float by and we could hitch a ride.”

The reason Dad took so long to get home was mostly a true story; under most circumstances he would help anybody at any time.

The four of us went next door to the Syrett’s. They welcomed us and were afraid for us knowing somewhat the condition of our house. The wires were pulled right off the side of the house and were wires on the ground, in the trees, some on cars and in the hospital grounds, some were still sparking. It was sure dangerous outside anywhere for several days, as high as the water surges were at some places 15 ft or more. The storm was moving so fast that in the crick the water level was only 6 to 8 ft above what was considered a flood tide. The hospital and the block around our house had a 4 to 5 ft wall around them. This storm the water only rose to about 3 to 4 ft above the bulkheads our house was about 3 or 4 ft above that, if we had a 15 ft storm surge the water would have been up to the second story in our house.

The next day we went home and didn’t get into the house for a couple of days. It was still unsafe for sometime after that. Actually it would have been safer outdoors for us. It was a good thing that my Uncles lived within 3 or 4 miles from us, as for about a month they helped Dad fixing the inside of the house so you could at least get in the house through a door not a hole in the wall. They were a great help to us. One of my uncles was a bricklayer and he rebuilt the main chimney but also said it had been twisted around so much either in that storm or an earlier one. The chimney started in the ground in the cellar then went off to the right, about a foot, off when it got to the first floor. It got pretty strait then went off about 15 inches to the left to where the top had been twisted off at roof level. My uncle built a chimney on top of that it was still crooked and might stay there (for 8 years). The chimney in the kitchen was beyond repair.

The house gave anybody that worked on it some laughs. Like the roof was held up by pieced 2x4s half of which had to be pieced some more, the 1910 wiring and primitive plumbing. Dad some time later probably 12 years later he took me down cellar and showed me were the house sat before the hurricane. The back of the main house where it met the kitchen had slid over about a foot. Luckily the front of the house was cemented to a stucco patio the full width of the house.

It took about 20 years to fix all the damage to the house. After 30 years of working on that house, new floors, roof, siding, walls, heating system, new kitchen, handmade cabinets, new bathroom and driveway, in 1970 The Hospital just had to have that property. So Mon and Dad and 4 other house were requisitioned for a parking lot. So they were all forced to move. So the hurricane could not destroy it, but in 10 minuets of fighting the bulldozer and lost.

PS: During the storm we also lost one big apple tree and several other trees besides the big spruce.

The Hospital across the street lost several trees and the roof over an operating room darning an operation taking place. (It is hard to keep going with 100 mph winds in an operating room.)

PPS: Just to let you know I had no news of my brother Alton. He apparently left school early with a couple friends, we had no idea where he was until late in the day as no phones were operational

My sister Doris did not fare as well Alton. I guess with all the lines were down and huge trees branches and cars crushed beneath the trees and the sidewalks and yards were full with debris, we had no contact with her until way after the storm. Doris was about 12 at the time and the fear of every thing looking different kept her in a panic until she made it to our grandmothers house about one half of the way home. I try to keep the stories as what I saw with my own eyes.