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The East Hampton Star. (East Hampton, N.Y.) 1885-current, January 18, 1979, Image 13

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Vole Y es Tomorrow We’ve said it before, and we’ll say it again. East Hampton Vil­ lage ought to buy the Sea Spray Inn property, and for the long­ term good of the Village the proposal should receive a rousing vote of approval in tomorrow’s referendum. As the late Donald Lamb, Town planning coordinator, frequently observed, open space is the best buy around, meaning that subdivision or other development eventually means higher taxes for everyone. In the case of this particular piece of open space, 16 acres and a few buildings, when it is gone there will be no more. We can think of no other parcel likely to come onto the market and be available to the Village for public purposes. East Hampton Village’s ocean frontage is used up, occupied by private homes with a minimum of public access, and the Sea Spray is a necessary and logical exten­ sion of the Main Beach complex. As such, it will be, if acquired, a bedrock item in East Hampton’s short but impressive catalogue of summer-resort virtues. Twelve hundred feet of beach frontage, nearly a quarter-mile, are included in the offer, plus frontage on Hook Pond. The initial cost, $1.35 million, may seem steep, and the final cost-plus-interest of $2.3 million steeper yet, but the land in the long run will be one of East Hampton’s best bargains. Vote yes tomorrow. Finite Resources The East End has been lucky, so far, in having been spared the overuse of finite recreational resources afflicting such areas as Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard. Even in the wide open spaces of the West there are areas where the situation is worse than it is here — now, that is. What it will be in the future depends upon what we do now, while we have time. Tourists making boat trips down the Colorado River, for in­ stance, are said to leave 20 tons of feces buried in the narrow beaches each summer; their footprints erode the beaches, and their garbage, even when buried, washes out to be strewn on other strands. The National Park Service is proposing a ban on the use of motorized rafts for the trip. Oars would be used, and the change is predictably being opposed by the outfitters who run the river trips. It reminds us of our local controversy over driving on the beach. If one were to decide this one on the basis of the greatest good for the most people, it might be that the beach buggy would win out — in the short run. In the long run, the greatest good lies in the preservation of the dunes and the beach proper, and this will inevitably entail restrictions. The pressure can do nothing but increase with the gradual growth of population, and the increase in the national standard of living which gives leeway for such luxuries as snowmobiles, trail bikes, and four-wheel-drive vehicles. The Winner’s Circle Eternal optimism, apparently, is a sine qua non of the successful politician. The thought comes to us when we read that Suffolk Republican Chairman Gilbert C. Hanse “will be inaugur­ ated as a member of the 1978-79 Republican State Chairman’s ‘Winner’s Circle’ group when the County Chairmen from across the State meet at the end of January” at the Concord hotel in the Cat- skills. Mr. Hanse is a Winner because Suffolk cast more Republican votes last fall than it did in 1974. If we had been in Mr. Hanse’s shoes in November, when a favorite son of Suffolk lost an immense early advantage in the race for the Governorship to finish second, we would have been in the mood for hari-kari. The defeat, however, obviously did not smash the GOP in the State or in Suffolk; such is our system, where hope springs eternal. The election did, however, change the balance of things. The East End no longer has its own political giant in Albany, and Gov­ ernor Carey’s fascination with this area, his second home, cannot distract him from the State’s larger problems. Our Representative in Congress, William Carney, is a West Ender through and through. In short, our voice in public matters above the local level has been greatly diminished, even if Mr. Hanse now sits in the Winner’s Circle. From The Scuttlehole Normally I jog on grass at the Herrick or John Marshall playgrounds, but once the ground is frozen the hard uneven surface of a grass field is much too likely to give one a twisted ankle. Therefore in the wintertime I run on the road or on sidewalks. It’s still hard on the ankles but at least the surface is smooth and, barring ice patches, rela­ tively secure. I don’t know why, but the sight of someone running along the road often draws shouted comments from passing motorists. Most of these hoarse cries are fortunately snatched away by the wind, but on one occasion a hoarse cry turned out to be precisely that, as a young fellow shouted over at me, “Get a horse!” On another occasion a motorist drew up alongside and beckoned me over. The driver, consulting a handwritten sheet of paper on his steering wheel, wanted to know where “Future” Lane was. I told him that fortunately our Town Board had declared Future Lane obso­ lete, but that there was a “Further” Lane between the Montauk Highway and the ocean where he might find the party he was seeking. (That’s on a par with the New York City youth who once told me that he’d love to go camp­ ing in that State Park out at Montauk - Hitler Hills). As for certain impertinent people who have hurled ribald comments at me as I sped along our fair thoroughs, I’d like to remind them of an old Yid­ dish proverb that I learned in a mis­ spent youth in the fair city of Galway of the Spanish Arches: “Du ist du, donches mach.” — a rough translation of which might read, “Doers Do — don’ters mock.” All of which leads me, for no logical reason whatsoever, to a memory of my old C.O. in the Irish Army who once introduced the next participant in a concert with these words: “Corporal Byrnes will now sing Adeste Fideles, in the vernacular.” Arthur Roth Editorial Section Although the Iranian use of torture \iras widely known inside the agency, Mr. Leaf said, he knew of no Americans who ad­ mitted that they witnessed such treat- linent. “I do remember seeing and being [told of people who were there seeing the [rooms and being told of torture. And 1 that the torture rooms were toured 1 it was all paid for by the U.S.A.” Winter Facade, Main Street The Way It W as... 75 Years Ago 1904 From the Star, Jan. 15,1904 Socially East Hampton is fast asleep. Why don’t we wake up and have a little social stimulus. There must be some­ thing to life other than working, eating and sleeping. A Narrow Escape On Saturday afternoon last Mr. and Mrs. E. H. Dayton and Mr. and Mrs. Jeremiah Mulford started for a sleigh ride to Sag Harbor behind a span of horses comprising Mr. Dayton’s horse and one of Mr. Mulford’s horses. When on the road between this place and Sag Harbor the horses began to run, and Mr. Dayton failing to get them under control, Mr. Mulford also took hold of the reins, and the combined strength of the two men brought the sleigh onto the horses’ heels and they ran all the faster. The team was tearing down the road at a frightful rate when a turn to the right or left meant the overturning of the sleigh, and the situation looked decidedly serious to the occupants of the sleigh. Dr. and Mrs. David Ed­ wards were on the road ahead and, looking back, saw the runaways com­ ing. The doctor quickly turned to one side, jumped out of his sleigh and stood by the side of the road. As the team came abreast of him he gave a jump for their heads, caught the bridle of one of the horses and hung on. He was jerked bodily off his feet but he clung to the horse and the team came to a sudden stop. It was a brave rescue from what might have been a fatal acci­ dent to some of the occupants of the sleigh. The Presbyterian chapel is being wired for electric lights. The Electric Light Company had a bad burn out in their cables on Hunt- ting lane on Monday night, and the lights all over the village went out in a jiffy. Manager Van Scoy got out with his men and had the break repaired and the lights on again in less than half an hour. Montauk A fine ice crop has been harvested, the ice being about twelve inches thick and of remarkable clearness. The Tut- hill brothers have stored about 1,000 tons and Frank Parsons has put in a- bout 500 tons. 50 Years A g o .....................................1929 From the Star, Jan. 18,1929 It is reported around town that a group of East Hampton business men are attempting to raise enough capital to organize an East Hampton Airport. A similar project was recently launch­ ed with success in Southampton. It is reported here that an option has been secured on a large tract of land which will be used for the airport site. Citrus Fruits as Influenza Preventative, Says Dr. Dr. D. R. Hodgson, of New York, formerly president of the Hahnemann Hospital, Chicago, has successfully pre­ vented colds and “flu” among 1,100 children by liberal use of citrus fruits. He says: “There cannot be too much stress laid upon the use of citrus fruits during the influenza epidemics. Every person should eat generous amounts of oranges, grapefruit and tangerines. Should you feel a cold coming on an ex­ tra measure of protection is to drink the heated juice of a grapefruit just be­ fore retiring, in addition to the oranges and grapefruit you eat during the day. There is no surer way of breaking up a cold or influenza. Avoid rich foods and overeating, get plenty of sleep, keep­ ing the windows open. . “Orange and grapefruit juice mixed together make one of the world’s rich­ est known sources of vital food factors as well as a most appetizing and re­ freshing drink for young and old.” 25 Years A g o ..................................... 1954 From the Star, Jan. 14,1954 Old Time Snow New York City goes into a tail-spin over a snowstorm or heavy rainfall. Traffic is disrupted, the weather gets front-page space. Out here, bad weath­ er disturbs farmers and fishermen but at this season the farmers are qui­ escent and from the difficulty of obtain­ ing a freshly caught piece of fish it looks as if the fishermen are too. So eastern Long Islanders are not too much disturbed over a six-inch snowfall or the kind of rain that warns John Reed Connections The house plants are consuming me. Ordinarily their greenery is a delight, especially at this time of year, but to­ day they are too much. A few need repotting, but the potting soil is frozen and none of the pots seem to be the right size, although I spent $12 on new ones yesterday. The old begonias that I brought in­ doors two falls ago, after they had done yeoman service in outdoor tubs, beck­ on me. They are still offering small white flowers and are hard to turn a- way from, but they are overcrowded and leggy and if I trim them back I’ll only be left with the healthy stalks to root. The Christmas cactus are impos­ sible. There are now seven of them of various sizes, ages, and conditions. Yesterday, I took the largest plant stand upstairs to the guest room where the light is good and the air cool, think­ ing to leave the cactuses there till next winter. But I hadn’t calculated right. Up they went, and down they came again this morning. There just isn’t e- nough room. Now they are crowded on my bedroom window sill. Yesterday, too, we discovered one of the two avocado plants had mealy bugs. Today, alcohol and swabs in hand, I can’t find any. One of the Boston ferns has a terrible case of scale and those who know plants tell me to give up on it. Instead, because it is so large and so dense, I decide to tend it a while longer, and isolate it in a bath­ room where it may or may not continue to look good for a while. The gardenia has spider mite and the garden shop has lent its spray tank to someone who hasn’t returned it yet. I remove the plant to a sunny ledge near the backdoor. How and when did I ever set this pattern for myself of gathering up so many living things that need nuture? It may have started when a friend, long gone, gave me her large angel-wing begonia, which is still one of the loveli­ est of the plants, and an almost-purple geranium, spindly but worth saving for the color of its occasional bloom. Of course, making the summer screened porch a year-round glassed one didn’t Continued On II — 3 Point of View I went to a Sunday service recently in a stone church in the French Basque country, and, on entering, noticed that there were no men among the women on the ground floor. The men were up above, in several tiered balconies that hugged the side walls. Without much debate, my step­ brother and I abandoned the women who were with us, and mounted the stairs. It was rather comfortable, resting my arms on a gnarled rail 20 feet above womankind, savoring the sweet-sad chants, and passing my eye from one detail to another in the cavernous, but rather magnificent church. Later, at lunch, our hostess explain­ ed that the Basque churches were built the way they were because the men in the 17th century, she thought, feared the women were “casting spells” on them, and therefore, wanted to get up out of harm’s way. There is mixing between the sexes outside church walls. For instance, I found no bunk beds in Basque houses. Certainly the separation of men and women in church is in this age a cur­ ious custom, one that we had violated, A recurring curse of local govern­ ment, here and everywhere else, is the urge to adopt ordinances that are redundant or intended to deal with passing problems. The curse is com­ pounded when the ostensible purpose of the local law does not match its actual if unstated intent. An example is the currently popular bottle law, in one form or another adopted or under consideration by almost every municipality on Long Island. It is on the surface a measure to prevent public boozing, and con­ sequent intoxication; in reality it is a crowd-control measure. As one who has illegally enjoyed many a picnic with chilled white wine in the State Parks, and feeling as I do about excess legislation, I ought to be upset about this latest infringement on liberty. But I’m not; I just finished a walk around Town Pond. There was ice on the Pond Friday night, the first of the season thick enough for serious skating. The pond is now ringed, not by the usual lost mittens, but by beer cans and bottles, some of the latter smashed against trees. The mittens are out on the decaying ice, thrown there by the teenage louts, full of themselves after a couple of bottles of beer, who harassed the younger skaters. What can be done? An appeal to their better natures? One would have to dispatch it via television, for it is doubtful if many of this segment of the younger generation can read. A com­ plaint to the parents? The children are already out of control. A plea for the beauty of the Town Pond area, a prayer that the place will be respected for what it is? Don’t be silly. Education? The next generation, maybe. The only solution is the present- day equivalent of the old nightstick across the back of the knees—an arrest for littering, violation of the open-bottle laws, or for supplying alcoholic beverages to minors. In retrospect, I am still horrified, but I can’t help remembering one night at the Norfolk Naval Station, in the summer of 1951. A young sailor was swaggering through the main gate, drunk as a lord, and one of the Marines on duty stepped toward him and swung his billyclub at the sea­ man’s right ankle. There was a crash, and glass, blood, and a pint of whiskey ran down over his shoe; he had been sneaking booze back to the ship, tucked into his sock. I can’t forget, and I imagine the sailor, now middle-aged too, can’t either. I don’t recommend billyclub justice, but I do think drinking is for those who can handle it, and best done in private, according to the rules. Everett T. Rattray without reproach, at another service a day or two before when the two men and the two women in our family stayed together. And yet I shall not poke fun at tra­ dition, for while at times it may be rig­ id, there is strength and unity in doing some things as they always have been done. You feel this collective strength among the Basques, who share a lang­ uage and a culture. Walking down a hill, on our way home one day, my step-brother and I saw a curious equation on the back of a large highway sign. It said, 4 + 3=1. We laughed at the illogic, until we re­ called that there were four Basque pro­ vinces in Spain and three in France. Jack Graves you to wear boots on Newtown Lane, getting in and out of the Post Office. We can walk if we have to, and maybe it does us good. Streets are pretty well deserted nights, this week. East Hamp­ ton is not an early-to-bed and early-to- rise community; perhaps this change will do us good, too, having no place to go but bed. New York, we hear, had ten inches of snow to our six; the heaviest snow fall in five years. The thermometer fell as low as 11 above zero in the city. Out Continued On II — 3 It’s nothing serious — post-holiday blahs, inflation-anxiety blues, or maybe the brand of food they’ve been feeding him lately. Thursday’s Thought The Fifth Column THE EAST HAMPTON STAR, EAST HAMPTON, N.Y., JANUARY 18,1979 II—ONE

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