NANCIE GORDON SPEAKS
Text of talk given August 20, 2003: 3 of 2003
Oak Beach has been a part of my life for 70 plus years. When I was a nine year old, my father brought me to the beach for a vacation and togetherness. My parents were divorced; I spent winters in New Jersey and summers here, at Oak Beach, with my dad and his family in rented houses.
In the 30's, before the big hurricane, Fire Island ended back east by the light house. There were no jetties or bulkheads and the sore thumb didn't exist. The Coast Guard Station was active. The Coast Guard, who patrolled our beaches nightly, was at Gilgo Beach also.
All of our shopping was done in Freeport. As we had no electricity, Dad brought large pieces of ice from Freeport on Friday nights when he came in from New York. And, he picked up a week's groceries. All cars were parked at the west end, and we met them with our little express wagons. We used kerosene for lights and cooking and carried our jugs and bottles of water from a central pump.
Later we had pumps in the kitchen and the bathroom - 25 strokes to flush the John. I never could figure out why there was a large bathtub in one of the cottages we rented; there were no faucets.
We kids lived in our bathing suits, 'cause laundry was a problem! The happiest day of the week was when the bakery truck came! We always destroyed Mom's food budget, keeping her in debt with our appetites for cinnamon buns. We invented OB sandwiches - peanut butter and jelly.
And oh, what wonderful musicals at Jones Beach: Billy Rose's water ballet at the aquacade and Sigmund Romberg and Victor Herbert musicals. Sometimes the ride back to Oak Beach around midnight was mysterious and thrilling. The darkness and fog enveloped us. The street lights ended at Gilgo. Dad and I each had to lean out the windows to keep our car on the road. Then, he'd have a wet head to towel off upon arriving home.
"The Inn" was a one room establishment, patronized only by beach people and their guests. Dancing by jukebox and a pitcher of beer entertained us Saturday nights.
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