A Peek

Ridgewood, N.J.

October 10, 1997

To The Editor:

Now that summer is over and we are all back home again, we love getting The Star each week by mail. Unfortunately, it doesn't always make it to New Jersey in a timely manner. So it's great to get a peek at what's coming! Keep up the great work, but don't be afraid to put it all on the Web, we won't cancel our subscription.

WILL, JOAN, MICHAEL and SAM RAPHAEL

Civic Duty

Springs

October 9, 1997

Dear Helen,

I think it was fine that The Star and Kiwanis were giving out magnets last weekend -magnets that will inform recyclers where to dump at the dump. However, that is not the answer!

Every time I go to the dump it's usually us graybeards who are tottering between bins, shaking out our wet garbage into the bin marked compostables, cooing to the pigeons - er, rather shooing the pigeons from our garbage -, watching out for their garbage, hobbling to the number one and two plastic bins, teetering to the metal bin, limping to the green, brown, and clear glass bins, making sure we are covered and have our safety glasses on to avoid the shards, heaving the magazines and junk mail into their bin, and then toting the newspapers into their bin.

Whew! I, as one of those gray-beards, heave a sigh of relief. Into the car, I manage to crawl, and, after a few gasped breaths, I start my car engine, turning the corner, avoiding the battery acid and the used clothing bins (I've heard they sell all that clothing to people in need - I have no proof of that statement - it's just what I've heard. Giving that clothing to AProgram Planned for Life Enrichment or the Animal Rescue Fund or the church is a much better thought.) Anyway, I am now in front of Mount St. Helen (John Conner coined the phrase, I think) - the pit. I have one small bag of nonrecyclables - mostly New York Times blue, and a few A&P plastic bags (they tear easily and are not able to be used again).

So here is the problem - dumping all that garbage into the pit. Young women and men tossing huge black bags obviously weighed down with wet garbage - a few guilty glances over their shoulder - but tossing nevertheless. There is a large sign saying "It's against the law to . . ." but they toss anyway. And no one stops them! Why, if it's against the law, isn't something done about it? How about putting some of our policemen or women there? It may not be as pleasant as walking up and down Main Street and ticketing cars but it might fill the coffers more quickly, and it sure would help our town and its people and future generations.

So whatta you say, East Hampton? Us graybeards wouldn't feel so alone doing our civic duty if we had some help from you.

Sincerely,

VAUGHAN ALLENTUCK

Fulfillment Of Hopes

East Hampton

October 13, 1997

Dear Helen Rattray:

Star readers following my periodic reports on the study of strontium-90 levels in baby teeth of Long Island families living close to the Brook haven National Laboratory will be pleased to know that the study is now being extended to other possibly endangered areas, with the support of the new Standing for the Truth About Radiation foundation. With offices in New York and East Hampton (66 Newtown Lane, 329-8994), the goals of STAR include raising funds in defense of those harmed by reactor emissions, including humans, wildlife, fish, and nuclear whistleblowers, including those now ready to testify but who are fearful of reprisal.

Grants will also be made to environmental grassroots organizations supporting the search for truth about the health effects of low-level radiation. For example, a small grant has already been made to permit independent measures of radioactivity levels in the Peconic Bay.

STAR's mission will be spelled out in detail at a fund-raising dinner being given tomorrow evening by Alec Baldwin and Frazer and Frances Dougherty. Speakers will include the attorney Jan Schlictmann, the charismatic protagonist of the best-selling "A Civil Action," whose role in representing Woburn children dying of leukemia will soon be portrayed by John Travolta in a Hollywood film. He has characterized the baby teeth study as follows: "People on Long Island, as elsewhere, may discover from this study that their fears that reactor emissions may be contributing to high neighboring cancer rates, which can affect both the rich and poor alike, are either groundless or of great concern. But no one can object to our seeking the truth about health effects of ingesting nuclear fission products. Even Congress has questioned the National Cancer Institute for long withheld information on cancers caused by post-war nuclear fallout."

Since I am told that tickets may still be available when this letter is published on Oct. 16, I hope to see as many of my supporters as possible at this dinner, which for me represents the fulfillment of all my hopes since moving to East Hampton 10 years ago.

Sincerely,

JAY M. GOULD

Letter Home From Boynton Beach

October 9, 1997

Dear Editor,

The school building on Newtown Lane first opened its doors in September 1924. At that time, it was a kindergarten through 12th-grade school, and its graduating class, in June 1925, totaled 13.

It replaced an older wooden building, which had been constructed in the early 1890s. Several years after the turn of the century, a two-story brick section was added, and today, it is still being used. In the '20s and '30s, there was an art classroom and a manual training paint shop on its below-grade floor. On the first floor, there were two second-grade classrooms and a school nurse's office. On the top floor, there were two seventh-grade classrooms and a freshman classroom.

During construction of the school, students attended classrooms of a temporary nature at the Methodist Church Hall, the Masonic Temple, and the Presbyterian Session House, which at the time faced Main Street.

In September 1926, when I entered first grade, Gilbert Lyons was school principal, until the end of the 1927-28 school year, when he left to become principal of the Smithtown School District. In September 1928, Leon O. Brooks became East Hampton principal and remained until his retirement in the early '50s. John B. Meeker succeeded him, and he was destined to become a very busy man.

During his administration, the School District purchased the former Edward Gay property, adjacent to the school yard, to construct additional classrooms, a library, and a gymnasium. The existing auditorium-gymnasium was converted into a fine auditorium.

As the grade school population increased, land was purchased for the John Marshall Elementary School to be built. While it was being constructed, classes were held in the Odd Fellows Hall on Newtown Lane and at the Louis Parr building down Pantigo way.

In the early '50s, the voters of the East Hampton School District defeated a proposition to purchase land, which was located between Oakview Highway and Cedar Street. Much of it was cleared and had been used for farming. The land was of a size adequate enough to hold all school facilities, including ball fields and playgrounds. Had that proposal been approved, many thousands of dollars would have been saved.

At the time, there were some who wanted to convert the Newtown Lane school into a town-village government office building as soon as the Cedar Street project was completed. Instead, a few influential citizens, who could not see beyond the length of their noses, convinced the majority to defeat the Cedar Street land acquisition. Afterward, the costs of purchasing the Edward Gay property, next to the Newtown Lane school, the Long Lane fields, the site of today's high school, and the Gardiner property, behind Church Street, far exceeded the amount the Cedar Street acquisition would have cost. It must have been a frustrating period for Mr. Meeker. Without doubt, he must have experienced many sleepless and tossing nights.

When going to school in the '20s and '30s, there were three general rules, which the students had to obey, and if one was broken, the one who committed the infraction was going to have an audience with Mr. Lyons, the school principal. Rule number one: No one was allowed to walk on the grass, for lawns were made to look at, not to walk upon. Rule number two: No one was expected to run in the halls when changing classes. Rule number three: Every student was expected to be in his or her seat when the final bells rang at 9 a.m. and 1 p.m.

For some reason, now long forgotten, the west entrance of the school was the boys' entrance and the east was the girls' entrance. Often Mr. Lyons would stand in the boys' entrance just before the final bell rang, waiting to nab a tardy boy. Girls, for some reason, were rarely late to their classrooms.

The front entrance was used mainly by parents and visitors who had business with the principal. After the sports seasons ended, the boys and girls teams had group photographs taken there, which afterward were framed and mounted on the south wall of the top floor hall. After there was no longer a high school on Newtown Lane, the pictures were removed. I wonder what happened to them. I hope they were preserved, for they contained many fond memories of an earlier time.

The rear entrance, which faced the railroad property, was used by teachers who used the area reserved to park cars, and by boys who lived on Cedar Street, Osborne Lane, North Main Street, Freetown, and Three Mile Harbor Road. The boys who lived on Cedar Street and the northern end of Osborne Lane walked the fields behind the houses on the east side of the lane. After they crossed the railroad tracks, they slid through an opening under the boarded fence which separated the school yard from the tracks. Boys from the North Main Street area below the bridge and points north walked the railroad tracks and crossed Percy Schenck's coal yard before crawling beneath the chain link fence which separated the two properties. Girls, during those times, were much too dignified to crawl under fences or walk the fields and railroad tracks to school.

Young boys dressed much like schoolboys of the World War I era. They wore knickers, knee socks, and brogans. A shirt was never worn without a necktie, and as winter approached, a woolen sweater was worn. Most boys wore a woolen mackinaw to repel the cold. Some boys wore woolen flat caps, and others wore woolen toques which could be pulled down over the ears. At Christmas, many boys looked forward to receiving leather boots, which were called high-tops. The reason for their popularity was that they came with a jack-knife that was pocketed in a sheath attached to the right-hand boot. Most of the high-tops leaked like a sieve, and if they were not large enough for several pairs of woolen socks, the kid wearing them suffered from cold and wet feet, especially when the ground was covered with snow.

Girls, at the time, wore dresses and skirts with blouses, and sweaters were added as cold weather arrived. They wore knee socks and tan lisle stockings to help keep their legs warm, but still suffered from the cold walking to and from school on days when those piercing northwesterlies cut like a knife. School boys and girls of today are so very fortunate to wear insulated jackets, parkas, and boots to repel the cold. A lined hooded parka was unheard of then. If they had been available, the average family would have been unable to afford them.

As there was no bus transportation for students living in the East Hampton School District, the majority of students had to walk to school. The Bennett children who lived on Springy Banks Road, opposite Soak Hides Road, and the ones who lived on the west side of Abram's Path in Amagansett walked each day to and from school. The Criscione children lived on the peach farm in Northwest, and each day they were driven to school by their father, Salvatore. At the end of each school day, he would wait for them on Newtown Lane. In their early years of going to school, the roads throughout Northwest were unpaved, and after snowstorms, plows were infrequently used to clear those two-tracked wagon paths.

A few years after the end of World War I, Oscar Brill opened a clothing store in the DeWitt Talmage building on the corner of Talmage Lane and North Main Street. A few old-timers referred to it as the Army-Navy Store, but in later years, most residents knew it as Brill's. Brill's customers lived in the greater part of East Hampton, Springs, and Amagansett. On Saturday nights just before the opening of school, the Brills were busy fitting school children with new clothes. At Christmastime, too, sales increased, as local people prepared for the holidays by purchasing winter wear for their children.

Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Epstein owned a similar store located between the A&P and the First National Bank on Main Street opposite the Edwards Theater. They, like the Brills, knew about everyone's size and what color would look well on them, making buying a gift for a youngster or a family member an easy task. It is a part of old East Hampton that has passed on. On the first day of school, there was nothing to surpass the joy of seeing all the schoolchildren in their new attire, the girls with pretty ribbons in their hair, patent leather shoes, and white knee stockings to match their dresses, and the boys in knickers, white shirts and ties, and new highly polished brogans. It was a real Norman Rockwell setting, complete with a newly painted room for each class.

In the early years of this century, the first six weeks of school were periods of apprehension, because of the dreaded infantile paralysis, more commonly known today as polio. In the fall of 1930, a Stelzer girl in the lower grades succumbed to that disease. Shortly after school opened in September 1935, Murray Hantz, son of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Hantz of Amagansett, also died as a result of contracting polio. Two years later, Harry Leek Jr., also of Amagansett, died of that terrible disease. In that same period, Robert Conklin, an East Hampton teenager, survived after coming down with polio, but was left a cripple for the remainder of his life.

Mrs. Cornelia Reiser, the school nurse since her appointment in March 1920, and Dr. David Edwards, a local physician and town health officer for many years, were very concerned about another disease, diphtheria, which in the past had claimed so many young lives. Although New York State gave the toxin-anti-toxin to the towns to be administered to each child between the ages of 6 months and 10 years, many families did not take the opportunity to protect their youngsters. Mrs. Reiser and Doctor Edwards decided that the only way for the youngsters to receive shots was through administering the shots after the children entered school.

In 1929, Doctor Edwards went to the Town Board and requested that the town pay doctors $1 for each inoculation, just as the Town of Southampton had been doing. The Town Board approved his request, and by 1932 he had his toxin-anti-toxin clinic in the school building. Prior to that time, he had been giving shots to the children, both in school and in his office, for which he received no compensation. I remember Mrs. Reiser taking me to Doctor Edwards's office for my three shots because I had been home with a very bad case of measles, another killer in those days.

By today's standards, when all children can be inoculated against contracting communicable childhood diseases, we who grew up those many years ago lived in a somewhat primitive era.

Most parents, at some time or another, spent sleepless nights wondering if they would be spared the agony of having a child come down with a fatal case of a communicable childhood disease. It was quite common to hear of a family in town who had just lost a youngster with a disease for which there were no preventive measures.

In the springtime, during our grade school years, boys, before classes commenced, both in the morning and afternoon, played a game of ball called "work up." It was played with a tennis ball and a flat bat two or three inches wide and an inch thick. No sides were chosen, and the batter remained at bat as long as he did not ground or fly out. There were several batters, and each batter had to advance the base runner. If the base runner was forced out, he had to go to the right field and advance each position as the runners or batters made outs. When a batter flied out, the person catching the ball became a batter, and the former batter became the right fielder. After the boys began to arrive in larger numbers, they became fielders, making it difficult to get a base hit.

The one thing the young boys learned was to swing at the ball. Had there been Little League baseball, most boys of that era would have become fairly good hitters. Years later, when I umpired Little League games, I noticed too many batters waited to be walked, rather than swing at the ball. One year, when the late Amasa Brooks was managing a Little League team, a kid joined the team, and Amasa asked him what position did he play. The kid replied, "Batter." That was good enough for Amasa, and the kid turned out to be an excellent batter.

Once in a while, a fist fight broke out, and the yelling commenced as the onlookers took sides. One such fight started behind the boiler room in the latter part of the noon hour, just as Coach Sprig Gardner returned from lunch. Immediately, he broke it up, but the incident planted an idea in his head. As winter was approaching, he thought an organized program, held in the auditorium during lunch hour, would be a good way for some of the boys to let off excess steam.

After he figured a way, he went to the principal and informed him of his plan. Mr. Brooks approved it, and Sprig purchased boxing gloves of various sizes, and placed boys in classes from 80 pounds to heavyweights. Each boy was required to wear his gym suit, but he had to provide his sneakers. Those who did not want to participate were free to do so.

Three bouts took place simultaneously, and each bout, scheduled for three rounds, was refereed by a responsible adult. It proved to be very entertaining for the spectators, a large number of whom were girls. Also, it allowed for a few grudges to be settled. When Sprig left East Hampton in 1936 for a better job at Mepham, Stewart McCaw, the new coach, continued that entertaining winter program.

To be concluded.

Sincerely,

NORTON (BUCKET) DANIELS

Please address correspondence to [email protected]

Please include your full name, address and daytime telephone number for purposes of verification.

Shadmoor, Columbus Day weekend. A stone rolls down the cliff, the ocean is almost heartbreakingly blue, and a handful of surfers take towels, wetsuits, the usual, out of their van. It could be 25 years ago, given a Volkswagen and longboards.

There's no one else to be seen. Except, half a mile to the west, three mountain bikers inspecting a decrepit World War II bunker. Looking out through slits in concrete, they see the same ocean, but with an international aspect and tankers on the horizon.

Two hikers exit a trail a little farther west and stop where the surface ends and precipice begins. Facing south, they are surrounded on three sides by low brush over which they can see for miles. They are plainly amazed at their good fortune in time, place - and weather.

Is this a magnificent public park? Unfortunately not. The 99-acre Montauk property just west of Rheinstein Park, which is in turn just west of the western Ditch Plain parking lot, is privately owned and will be completely off- limits when sold as four ultra-exclusive house lots.

The East Hampton Town Planning Board is ready to approve its subdivision, and hope for a public purchase plummeted a week ago when a Congressional committee declined to set aside the money needed to preserve it, citing a huge discrepancy between the owner's asking price and the Government's appraisal. The price, indeed the disparity, is in the millions.

We are talking about an irreplaceable piece of the coastline. The public has access to nothing like Shadmoor on the East End, and those who have not seen it are well advised to do so before it's too late. The surveyor's stakes are up, the fortune-fetching views are being inventoried, and the Nature Conservancy - which has been working with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service toward purchasing Shadmoor to save a protected wildflower, the sandplain gerardia, said once to have blanketed Montauk in purple - seems almost resigned to the idea of the developers' simply putting some 50 acres into a private preserve.

Are we really going to allow so few to enjoy so priceless a chunk of wilderness? Is there no way to pool the resources of those who use the land unobtrusively with those who want to protect the habitat, even perhaps the history?

The town and the Nature Conservancy are publicly committed to joining a partnership with the Federal Government to purchase Shadmoor. The land is on the Fish and Wildlife Service's wish list. Instead of complaining that the loss of $2.5 million from Congress leaves them nothing to negotiate with, the three parties should take the lead to put something substantial back on the table. Perhaps that would convince the state and county to follow suit.

Anything less than a Herculean effort is a recipe for regret.

Politics can seem like someone else's game until some issue or other touches you as an individual. Such was the case this year when the Artists Alliance of East Hampton, formerly the Jimmy Ernst Artists Alliance, heard that a member of the Town Board had said, "Art in public places smacks of pork-barrel politics."

The group, interested in art in public places including the East Hampton Town Airport and in developing an artists center that would need financial assistance from the town, has been turning out for Town Board meetings and organizing its 300 members into a constituency to be reckoned with.

The candidates for Town Supervisor and Town Board, and even the two Councilmen who are not running for re-election this year, have been "invited" to a Meet the Candidates breakfast on Sunday morning and sent a list of topics on which they should be prepared to speak. The alliance has hosted such receptions in the past, with 75 or 80 members attending, but this year it is expecting a greater share than ever of its members to take part.

Another group, the Concerned Citizens of Montauk, which has been a powerful lobby for many years, found reason this year to include the Town Trustee candidates in its debates, which begin at 1 p.m. Sunday at the Montauk Firehouse. The Trustees haven't had jurisdiction in Montauk for nearly 150 years. But, since the Trustees had offered to take on the management of shellfish in Lake Montauk and are now proposing to take over some of the regulatory power of the Zoning Board of Appeals, the C.C.O.M. sees itself as having a stake in who is elected next month.

The League of Women Voters hosts candidates forums each year too, as does the American Association of University Women. All of these debates can be seen on cable's Channel 27.

Care who will decide whether you get that new dock? Want your tax dollars to support the arts? Interested in the improvement of the airport? Mad because you recycle and your neighbor doesn't? Sick of driving to Bridgehampton for groceries? Worried about whether the golf course next door is leaching chemicals into your well water?

Show up, tune in, see and hear for yourself.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,

A medley of extemporanea;

And love is a thing that can never go wrong;

And I am Marie of Roumania.

- Dorothy Parker

Although Hannah Pakula came to her calling relatively late in life, this author of two major historical biographies stumbled upon her first subject at the Westlake School for Girls in Los Angeles, where she grew up.

"Rebelling against a boring French assignment, I asked the teacher to let me translate some of Dorothy Parker's light verse instead," she said. "That set me wondering about Marie of Rumania."

In writing "The Last Romantic," a life of the legendary Queen Marie, and "An Uncommon Woman," the story of the Empress Frederick of Germany, Ms. Pakula chose as her subjects two British princesses who were married off to German royals, perhaps for the civilizing effect it was hoped they might have on Teutonic bellicosity.

The King And The Kaiser

Both failed to calm the troubled waters in the Balkans, however. Marie produced King Carol II, a Machiavellian politician who betrayed his country and tried to destroy her, while Vicky, as the Empress, Queen Victoria's eldest daughter, was called, gave birth to Willy, "the son from hell."

As Kaiser Wilhelm II he would lead Germany into battle against his own mother and grandmother during World War I in a failed expansionist offensive that sowed the seeds of Hitler's rise to power 20 years later.

"There's no doubt that the eldest sons of these two inexperienced young queens were bitter disappointments," said Ms. Pakula, who was interviewed at the East Hampton house she shares with her husband, the filmmaker Alan Pakula.

Growing Up

Vicky's letters to her mother fret about the hazards of raising a child in a palace. Indeed, in both cases the boys were brought up by grandparents who frowned upon their mothers' attempts to educate the people and who still believed in the divine right of kings.

"No wonder the British monarchy is the only one left today," Ms. Pakula laughed.

Born Hannah Cohn in Omaha, Neb., the future biographer grew up as "the ingenue of the expatriate music community" in Southern California. Her parents hosted Sunday evening chamber concerts where such luminaries as Jascha Heifetz might play.

No Bluestockings

While most of her schoolmates' parents were in the film business, her father, a "mathematical genius" and classic-car buff, was a manufacturer's sales representative for automotive and aviation parts.

He died in England a happy man, his daughter said, as he lay on the ground repairing the oldest car in the world, an 1893 Mercedes-Benz, during an annual London-to-Brighton race.

The young Hannah wanted to go to Radcliffe, but her mother, believing that Harvard's sister school turned out bluestockings and traumatized by her older daughter's conversion to Communism at Sarah Lawrence, packed the protesting Hannah off to Wellesley.

Two Marriages

During her junior year abroad at the Sorbonne she married Robert L. Boorstin, an investment banker, and moved to Dallas. A daughter, Anna, and twin boys, Robert and Louis, were born.

Mr. Boorstin died unexpectedly seven years later of a heart attack while the couple were riding donkeys during a vacation on the Greek island of Rhodes. "I had to grow up fast," recalled Ms. Pakula. "My children are fabulous," she added proudly.

Marriage four years later to Mr. Pakula and a subsequent move to New York and East Hampton delighted her.

"This is a wonderful community for a writer, especially in winter," she said. "When we first drove out and dined with the group at the old Bobby Van's - my dogs were allowed in under the table - I looked at Alan and said, 'This is what I hoped being grown up was going to be like.' "

Encouragement

The life of a filmmaker's wife does have certain givens, she said. "One is that my bags are always half-packed - I never know where I'll be tomorrow. Another is that while Alan is shooting, we have no social life at all."

"I'm a depressive and tend to isolate when I'm writing, so I see friends for lunch or tea to keep myself 'up.' At night, I have dinner waiting."

The marriage is no one-man show, however. Mr. Pakula always thought his wife was a closet writer, andencouraged her to begin. At first she limited her efforts to book reviews and occasional pieces, until, one night, he asked, "Why don't you do something serious?"

"It's not unusual for him to put himself on the line, and he gave me permission to do the same. 'It doesn't matter if you fail,' he said. That was very liberating."

Years Of Research

"In the nearly 25 years we've been married our careers have never conflicted," she went on. "The one who's under pressure gets the support. It's worked out very well. Alan enjoys my world, and I enjoy being called in to watch his rough cuts, which is when he wants a fresh viewpoint."

Her plunge into historical biography was triggered by a book called something like "Love Nests of the Rich and Famous," she said, where, serendipitously, Marie of Rumania was prominently featured. A quick trip to the Beverly Hills Public Library revealed that nobody had yet written her life.

Two years of research into 19th-century royalty and the history of the Balkans, about which she knew nothing, were followed by more years of writing than she cares to admit: "I don't lie about my age anymore, only about how long it takes me to finish a book."

In 1989 her 500-page life of the legendary Marie appeared, subtitled "The Most Famous Beauty, Heroine and Royal Celebrity of Her Time" - a sort of 1930s Princess Di.

Hailed by Graham Greene as one of the three best books of 1989 and the best biography of that year, it also established Ms. Pakula as an authority on Rumania, and was cited as "required reading" for Rumanians.

"That was because in the bad old days of Communism under the Ceaucescu dictatorship no one, for better or for worse, was taught the history of their country's royal family."

"It was as though nothing between Peter the Great and Lenin had happened," Ms. Pakula explained, implying that those who ignore history are condemned to repeat it.

Mother-Daughter Letters

While working on "The Last Romantic," she came across the mother/daughter letters between Queen Victoria, Marie's grandmother, and Vicky, her niece, "some of them cluck-clucking gossip about Marie's alleged frivolity and many affairs. Not true. She only had one grand affair, with a remarkable man who became her Prime Minister."

Fascinated by Vicky, Ms. Pakula plunged into research for "An Uncommon Woman," a 700-page biography subtitled "The Empress Frederick, Daughter of Queen Victoria, Wife of the Crown Prince of Prussia, Mother of Kaiser Wilhelm."

She found the Queen's letters to her daughter preserved in a German schloss. The Empress's letters and papers reposed in the archives at Windsor Castle, however. Fortunately, Vicky had had them shipped to England just before her death, thus saving them from certain destruction by her son the Kaiser.

Seeds Of Hitler

Ms. Pakula worked her way through Vicky's more than 8,000 letters to her mother, written almost daily over 43 years - 60 volumes of them - and then tackled those to her father, Prince Albert. Happily for the burdened researcher, he died after amassing only three years of correspondence.

When Vicky's story was published in 1995, nearly 100 years after her death, it came as something of a surprise, especially in her adopted country, where Wilhelm had assiduously tried to suppress any memory of his mother's enlightened attempts at educating and democratizing Imperial Germany.

"German publishers were seen fleeing," said Ms. Pakula of the book many consider essential to understanding the climate in which Hitler's military despotism, anti-Semitism, and national paranoia originated.

Human Rights

She is gratified that the paperback version, to be issued imminently, will coincide with the first translation into German to be published in Germany. Her own ancestors left the country after the revolution of 1848.

A member of PEN, Ms. Pakula serves on its Members Council and is active in the Freedom-to-Write Committee. In 1992 she established Film Watch (under Human Rights Watch) to help monitor the human rights of film directors around the world.

"I'm a big human rights person," she said, "and passionate about the dignity of others. I monitor individual cases, and if I can get someone out of prison, fine. I have to watch out for hubris, however. Recently a Sri Lankan girl was killed whom I'd thought I could help."

She is currently working on a piece about Jeri Laber and the origins of Human Rights Watch for The New Yorker.

In The Works

Her next book? "I'm not ready to talk about another book yet. I have two or three projects in mind, but I haven't decided. Once I commit, it's for a long time. I have to know my subject very well before I begin writing."

"I can be one of the great bores of all time," Ms. Pakula concluded with a laugh. "When someone at a dinner party asks me what I do and I tell them I'm writing about the Schleswig-Holstein War, it can really put a damper on things."

"I try not to do that to people," she said.

The fall and the spring are the worst months here for thefts at construction sites. That is not surprising: In the summer, when more houses than not are occupied, a thief can never be certain of being unobserved, and in the wintertime less building takes place.

Last month and this one have, unfortunately, more than kept pace with the dreary statistics. There are more new houses going up these days than there have been since the late '80s, and hardly a week goes by without a report that someone's brand-new air-conditioning units (or stove, or Jacuzzi), often still in the boxes they came in, have been stolen. Expensive materials are another favorite target: lumber, copper wiring, Andersen windows.

Sometimes the building contractor is the victim, losing the kind of supplies that cannot easily be taken home at night - heavy drills, power tools, air compressors, and the like.

Can good citizens do anything for their soon-to-be-neighbors in the way of damage control? Sure. They can keep an eye out for strangers who seem to be doing nothing but hanging around, and they can report suspicious activity to the police.

A former cabana boy at the Maidstone Club, former line cook at the Blue Parrot, and former clerk at Reed's Photo, Jesse Feigelman returned to East Hampton this week to direct his first full-length film in the place where he spent his boyhood summers.

"Snapped" is about a young man who commits a minor crime and, in a panic, runs home to East Hampton, where, said the film's producer, Kevin McLeod, he tries to "reintegrate his life with his ex-girlfriend's."

The ex-girlfriend is played by Gaby Hoffmann, a 15-year-old veteran of Hollywood who came east for the filming with her famously unconventional mother, Viva, of Andy Warhol fame.

Not For Money

The teenager had a role in Woody Allen's "Everybody Says I Love You," and other productions, but has reportedly told her mother she is tired of making movies for money and intends from now on to work only on art films.

Viva, a former member of the notorious gang at Warhol's Manhattan studio/crash pad, the Factory, and a star of his avant-garde films - one of those who wasn't a cross-dresser - is said to have agreed.

Ill Ville Pictures, which is producing "Snapped," rented a house in Springs for Viva and her daughter, but the pair bolted when they learned the landlady meant to be there herself on weekends. They lived out of their car for a couple of days until they reached Sydney Maag, who lives in Sag Harbor.

Mold

Ms. Maag used to babysit the teenager, and is still hired on occasion as a traveling companion to Paris and other film locations. She let mother and daughter use her house and went on vacation after seeing them settled in.

Reached last week at Ms. Maag's, Viva said she had her hands full. Her daughter could be heard in the background yelling about her tutor being an hour late, saying she was too busy for an interview, and berating her mother for spending $400 on a new bed.

"Her bed here is just infested with mold. She said it doesn't bother her, but I'm allergic to mold and I know what it can do," said Viva. "I think the mold is affecting her brain. It's putting her in a terrible, terrible mood."

"We went grocery shopping and Sydney said she just couldn't stand the sound of the plastic bags rustling around in the back seat. I told her it's a vitamin deficiency. Or the mold."

Old Friends

When the heyday of the Factory ended, in the early 1970s, Viva became a painter of modest acclaim.

Last week, when she and her daughter were temporarily homeless in the Hamptons, she tried to look up some of her old friends - Andy Warhol had a summer house in Montauk and some of the Factory crowd live here still - but Peter Beard was in England and Paul Morrissey, who directed the Warhol films, was unavailable.

Viva was playing golf on Monday but otherwise was said to be watching carefully while Gaby worked. Mr. McLeod claimed all was serene on the set, though observers said Viva had barged in while the cameras were rolling to complain about the Springs landlady.

The producer described the teenager as a professional, with grown-up ambitions. "I think Gaby wants what all actors want," he said. "Leading roles. Self-realization."

On Location

The Ill Ville Pictures crew will be here through next week. Shooting began two weeks ago, with scenes filmed at Plain and Fancy, a gourmet take-out shop on Springs-Fireplace Road in East Hampton, the Honest Diner on Montauk Highway in Amagansett, and on the sidewalk in front of Reed's Photo Shop on Newtown Lane in East Hampton.

All the scenes but one, to be shot at a diner near the Jamaica train station in Queens, are set here.

Mr. McLeod, for whom this is also a first film, said the timing - during the very week of the Hamptons International Film Festival, which draws new and established filmmakers and studio executives to East Hampton - was coincidental.

The budget required shooting off-season, he said, and "You can't shoot in the spring and make it look like summer."

Another "Graduate"?

He described the film as "a drama that uses comedy in an interesting way," in the manner of "The Graduate" and "Something Wild." The screenplay was written by Mr. Feigelman and a friend, Ian Shorao.

The leading role is played by Johnny Zander, 25, a male model. "With or without this film, Johnny will be huge, a huge success," predicted Mr. McLeod.

Right now, the largest thing about Mr. Zander is probably his shiny, Elvis-sized pompadour.

Meanwhile, Mr. Feigelman, whose parents have a vacation house in Springs, is enjoying being back. He went to employees night at the Stephen Talkhouse last week, and was walking around on Monday with a pocketful of cigars, the gift of a character actor in town for the Film Festival.

A proposal to build a small house on a lot that is not much more than one-tenth the size zoning calls for was approved by a majority of the Town Zoning Board of Appeals last week.

Four members of the board granted several variances for Clare Tolchin, enabling her to build a one-and-a-half-story house with a first-floor footprint of 640 square feet on her 4,772-square-foot property on Morrell Boulevard, East Hampton. The board's chairman, Jay Schneiderman, abstained.

The neighborhood is zoned for one-acre lots, roughly 40,000 square feet. Though board members said they understood the concerns of neighbors who opposed development of the small parcel, they said they saw no reason Ms. Tolchin should not be allowed the use of her property.

"This is one of those cases that brings up the issues of what zoning's all about," said one board member, Peter Van Scoyoc, during the board's Sept. 30 work session.

Three Front Yards

The lot is "way undersized," Mr. Van Scoyoc acknowledged, adding that the neighbors "understand what the zoning requirements are and they use that as security."

"On the other hand, you have someone who owns this piece of property and wants to utilize it."

The board's vice chairman, Philip Gamble, noted that the property is on the town's tax rolls as an individual lot and thus should be considered developable.

He said the variances requested - three from front-yard setbacks, one from a rear-yard setback, one from a scenic easement setback, and one from the pyramid law - and the house proposed were "not out of line" with the size of the property.

The number of variances sought was affected by the fact that, according to zoning, the odd-shaped lot has three front yards, said Mr. Gamble.

"Very Modest"

Mr. Gamble added that the neighbors could have gotten together to buy the property but did not, and said they could not expect the town to buy it just for their benefit.

Mr. Schneiderman abstained from the vote because he thought the town might indeed be interested in acquiring the lot. He suggested writing to the Town Board to bring the property to its attention, but the other four board members disagreed.

"The house is very modest," was Heather Anderson's conclusion. She said she understood neighbors' concerns about their property values, but observed that "there are not a lot of building lots for people of modest means."

Ms. Anderson added that employees of East Hampton Town (Ms. Tolchin is the wife of John Jilnicki, a deputy town attorney) "are not going to be rich." To deny the request "would be a real hardship," she said.

Ann and Ken Bialkin never planned to move. They had spent 30 years in a house on Hand's Creek Road that they had built in 1966, and weren't even looking. "The move just happened," Mrs. Bialkin said.

Two years ago a real estate broker friend of their daughter, Lisa, casually mentioned an estate on Mecox Bay with panoramic water views. It had been on the market for some time.

"We saw it and loved it. I always said I'd only move if it were to the water," Mrs. Bialkin said. They bought it fully furnished - house plants and all - and moved right in. And they haven't stopped raving.

Compound Geometry

The Water Mill house was built in 1988 for Richard and Alice Conrad by the Sagaponack architect Kenton E. Van Boer, then put up for sale after Mrs. Conrad's untimely death six years later.

According to Mr. Van Boer, who worked with the architects Norman Jaffe and Eugene Futterman before opening his own design firm, the Conrads hadn't wanted a modern house, nor did they want a strictly traditional one. The plan for the house was modeled after the traditional farm buildings of northern England, but with Mr. Van Boer's particular vision. "I call it a contemporary folk art house," Mr. Van Boer said. "We used very simple materials: stucco exterior, terra cotta floors, and pine ceilings."

"The idea was to assemble a whole compound of different yet connected geometries that were built around a central courtyard," Mr. Van Boer explained. "You leave your car outside, proceed into that inner courtyard and out of the wind, and then proceed to the front door."

Versatile Design

The courtyard, handsomely designed by the North Haven landscape architect Diane Sjoholm, pulls the house together. One enters the inner courtyard under a dense arbor of wisteria, then follows a "forced perspective pathway" to the focal point, a central circle of crab apple stones. There is a semicircle of apple trees planted on one side, and a lush mix of hydrangeas, ilex, magnolias, day lilies, and grasses on the other side.

The house is laid out in three separate sections that together form a "U." While each wing flows easily into the next, each can be closed off, creating privacy not only for the Bialkins but also for their two grown daughters and frequent house guests. Each section has its own heating and air conditioning system.

The Bialkins especially like the sliding doors that seal off the kitchen and dining room from the large living room. "We had 100 people here last week and it wasn't even crowded," Mr. Bialkin said.

"The master bedroom upstairs is what did it for me," Mrs. Bialkin said. Compact and elegant, like a ship's stateroom, the bedroom has three exposures and a spectacular bay window that overlooks Calves Creek. "It's wonderful to come up here early in the morning and see all the animals," Mrs. Bialkin said.

"Everything is incredibly beautiful and practical," she emphasized, pointing out the "his and her" bathrooms, the splendid closets, elaborate phone system and the built-in sound system that she calls "unbelievable. The music goes all over the house - inside and out."

"This house was built with care and love. Practically everything has worked from the very beginning. We just had to learn how to use it," Mrs. Bialkin said. "We still haven't figured out how to work the intercom."

An Extended View

Although exceptional light is a given on the East End, the light in the Bialkin house is truly special. Everything glitters, even the over-the-counter glass shelves in the kitchen and pantry. Yet there is no glare.

"All the light is indirect," explained Mr. Van Boer. "We shaded the direct southern light by recessing windows under roof lines, and balanced it with light from the west. The main front view from the living room picture window is to the west," he noted.

In front of the house, Ms. Sjoholm has "tried to connect feelings of water, the natural wetlands, and the beautiful breezes with the plant material. I used a large variety of grasses and soft wildflowers that bend with the wind," she said. At the Bialkins' request Ms. Sjoholm added a lot of colorful annuals. Because they share part of a lawn with their neighbors to the south, the Bialkins also get an extended view towards the ocean.

Under The Sink

"We now come out all year, which we didn't used to. It's beautiful here in the winter," Mrs. Bialkin said. The living room, dining room, and master bedroom all have fireplaces, which the architect delights in referring to as "inglenooks."

Ecstatic as she and her husband are, Mrs. Bialkin does have one word of advice for prospective buyers: "Look under the kitchen sink and see what's there. Here there were a lot of mosquito repellents of varying types," she chuckled. She said the mosquitoes arrive only when it is very hot, though.

Mr. Bialkin, a corporate and financial and securities lawyer, is a partner at Skadden, Arps, Slate, Meagher and Flom. He is known for his active role in Jewish affairs. A former national chairman of the Anti-Defamation League, Mr. Bialkin is chairman of the America Israel League and president-elect of the American Jewish Historical Society. Mrs. Bialkin is the founder and president of ELEM, an organization that assists troubled youths in Israel.

Almost Guilty

"The only things I miss from the old place are the trees," said Mr. Bialkin, an avid gardener. In 1966, he purchased 18 acres on Hand's Creek Road, much of which he subsequently sold to his neighbor Jack Lenor Larsen. "I trimmed and moved all the trees, pulled all the vines. I did everything." He brought all his tools to the new house, as well as his beloved tractor, which sits in one of the two garages outside the entry courtyard. A 1950s-vintage red Mercedes convertible sits in the other.

Mr. Bialkin still owns the East Hampton house and five acres of land. "Kenny would have brought the house here if he could have," Mrs. Bialkin said.

"I literally turned psychotic when I had to leave," Mrs. Bialkin confessed. "When I tried to get Lisa to take her horse things to the stable, she said, 'If I can't bring my horse things with me I'm not going to come.' It was very emotional."

Mrs. Bialkin said her husband was almost guilty about leaving the old place. "You know," she explained, "it helped you, it took care of you for so many years. He said this place is like a beautiful new trophy wife!"

AMAGANSETT

Bankers Trust Co. to Betsy and William Ellis Jr., Cranberry Hole Road, $585,000.

BRIDGEHAMPTON

Wright to Ingrid Wright, Hayground Cove Road, $395,000.

Butter Lane of Bridgehampton Assoc. to Geri Bauer, Mitchell Lane, $580,000.

EAST HAMPTON

Weinberg estate to Joseph Lanzillotta, Richard Delaney, and Michael LaCalamita, Abraham's Path, $315,000.

Mohr to Juan and Ileana Fernandez, Whooping Hollow Road, $180,000.

Citicorp to Wilshire Funding Corp., Route 114, $207,500.

Hedgerow Assoc. to Barnett Brown, Sarah's Way, $550,000.

Virga to Michael Behan and Phitsamay Philahandeth, Montauk Boulevard, $219,500.

Edwards to James and Kimberly Brierly, Boxwood Street, $175,000.

Homes By Arabia to Eliot Nisenbaum, River Road, $270,000.

MONTAUK

Murphy to Gordon Farkouh and Christina Hulett, South Fairview Avenue, $290,000.

Milone to Lawrence and Elizabeth Brown, Brisbane Road, $159,000.

Pisciotto estate to Janet Catanese, Maple Street, $445,000.

Passarelli (referee) to Rado and Rafter Ltd., Fairview Avenue, $200,000.

Wood to Carol McCabe, Harbor Ridge Drive, $150,000.

NORTHWEST

New Sunshine Realty to Mark and Karen Segal, Musket Lane, $244,000.

SAG HARBOR

Maguire to Peter Creegan, Roger Street, $150,000.

Grgic to Jane Johnson, Oakland Avenue, $173,000.

SAGAPONACK

Kamahda International Investment Co. to Parsonage Pond Dev. Corp. I, Parsonage Pond Road, $440,000.

WAINSCOTT

Rauscher to Ana Daniel, Main Street, $525,000.

WATER MILL

Source One Group Ltd. to Wendy Kalif, Grace Court, $575,000.

Humphrey to Judith Hirsch, Oliver's Cove Lane, $1,240,000.

Edwards to Christopher Peluso, Cobb Hill Lane, $330,000.

Noelle's Country Market, which opened two and a half years ago on Bridgehampton's Main Street, will be forced to close its doors due to a rent increase on Oct. 25.

Noelle Surerus of Shelter Island, who ran the grocery and delicatessen with her husband, Paul, declined to specify how much the new rent would be, but did say, "We just couldn't absorb the increase."

For now, she has no plans to open another shop. Southampton, East Hampton, and Sag Harbor are all well served by grocers and delis, and Shelter Island does not have enough year-round traffic to support another store, according to Ms. Surerus. Plus, she added, the cost of moving and getting the necessary Suffolk County Health Department approvals would make it too much of a headache.

"I'll probably just take some time off and then look for another job," she said.

Complementary Shops

Ms. Surerus got her start in the food business after working 16 years for Second Nature in Southampton. When that business was sold, she went out on her own, opening her shop in the building that also houses DePetris Liquors and the Bridgehampton Seafood Company.

The three stores complemented one another, she said, with customers frequently stopping at all three as they shopped for that night's dinner. "You could have installed swinging doors between them," she said.

Although the "first three years are usually the toughest" for a new business, Ms. Surerus said she had enjoyed a "wonderful run" and almost made it over the hump.

"Our customers are the best, and I want them to know that," she said.

The feeling may have been mutual. "We'll be crying at the end of the month," said one woman as she picked up a loaf of French bread.