The East End Is A Wonderful Place To Grow Old

At 73, I am finding it harder to do the simple things, more often than not. One thing I really don’t enjoy is being crowded and rushed. There is no doubt the world I was born into no longer exists. On the other hand, it must be said that it is easier to exist these days than when I was born. Things like microwave, ovens, air-conditioned homes, amazing cars, and of course, the Internet and the smart phones have made living a lot easier than in 1952 when I was born.

The east end is a place where many people spend their whole lifetime. I am not one of those people. I’m one of those people who ended up out here after a divorce blew up my life. I chose to go to the east end and turn my life around. I never considered myself a local while I lived in East Hampton. I always behaved like a guest. I would never vote in the elections because I felt I was just visiting and didn’t want to screw around with these people’s lives. Somehow I ended up writing for the largest circulated Local weekly and made just enough money to pay my child support, a place to live, and my car insurance now I consider those days pure gold.

The folks of the east end are some of the hardest working people in America. Due to the seasonal nature of the East End most the people I knew had three or four jobs all going on at the same time heck at one point even I had five jobs at once. Working all the time makes time go fast. Some of my jobs had to had to do with delivering, and I learned all the back roads and the jewels of certain historic homes spread out in unique historic places.

Through the journalism, I met some of the iconic figures of the late 20th century of the Hamptons and most were humble and earnest people. A prime example has to be Tate King. While in his kitchen on Nyack Road, he told me the story of how he came back from World War II with a little bit of money and bought some land, built some barns and had some luck and created North Sea Farms. To this day I can still hear his old voice say this in (back in 2006)with his wife standing next to him in their kitchen. He was looking out the window at their land, he looked me in the eye and said, “Most of my life I was poor. All I had was the change in my pocket. My wife’s job at Southampton Hospital over the years paid most of the bills. Now they tell me this land is worth millions of dollars, but I can’t sell it because my mother and father are buried over there and my brother is buried over there. ” He never sold the farm.

Sadly, one night after sailing I was driving on Noyack and I saw eight ambulances in the parking lot of the farm stand at his farm. It was as if they all came to say goodbye to the King.

Now it's me struggling to get on my sailboat that I used to jump on. However, once out in Gardiner’s Bay I feel vibrant and great knowing this is where I love to be. Old sailors never die, they just sail away into the forever sunset.