Letters to the Editor: 03.20.97

Attention E-Mailers

The Star is always pleased to receive correspondence from readers, but, as most are aware, it does not print anonymous letters, even those that are not of a scurrilous nature. This has been our policy for many years.

Now, with the advent of E-mail, and its increasing use as a supplement to or even substitute for conventional postal correspondence, we are faced with a dilemma. E-mailed letters often bear no indication of their author or origin other than an alias, to wit BLUBOY4 or SBSNY.

That may be fine in cyberspace, but it is not so fine for The Star's letters pages. This week, for example, a letter arrived by E-mail inquiring why no police news appears on our Website (http://www.easthamptonstar.com). A legitimate question, but, alas, one that cannot be answered unless and until we can verify the identity of the asker. Mail is mail is mail, and the rule ought not to be waived just because it originates in Cyberia.

Sharp-eyed readers will note a new line in the instructions to letter-writers. It says:

Unsigned E-mail will be treated as anonymous.

Obsessed With Drugs

East Hampton

March 17, 1997

To The Editor,

The decertification of Mexico as a partner in the United States's war against drugs is The New York Times headline. The idea would be laughable if it were not so absurd. Only those nations certified by the U.S. are allowed to participate in the war against drugs. The drug war is essentially a battle against the evil products that are being shipped into the U.S. by small, dark, scary people, which are destroying segments of the U.S. population.

Because the Mexican drug czar was found to be on the payroll of several major drug dealers, Mexico can no longer play in the drug war game. They will be sorry, because this is a great war. The longest one since the War of the Roses. A war with such limited success that under ordinary circumstances it would have been stopped as a total failure. A war where the enemy is ourselves and everyone else. A war that is impossible to win because we refuse to deal with any of the reasons for the war.

So we create absurd issues like decertification and crop replacement participation rather than deal with the essence of the problem: Why the demand for drugs in the U.S. is so phenomenal that users and dealers are willing to risk their lives in battle with the most powerful government in the world to buy and sell drugs, and why the U.S., unlike every other country in the world, is obsessed with drugs.

Every imaginable form of legal and illegal drug is hawked nonstop by the drug companies, the medical profession, the psychosocial industry, and the school systems. We take drugs to sleep, to stay awake, drugs for depression, and drugs for hyperactivity. The typical American medicine cabinet has 47 different drugs, a bottle of perfume, and two creams. Compare it to a typical French medicine cabinet which has 47 perfumes, 20 creams, and four drugs (suppositories probably). We are a drug-crazed country.

Profile our typically depressed citizen. He can no longer drink or take drugs to relax, so he takes Prozac because he's depressed and can't work. But it kills his sex drive. So he takes an amphetamine three hours before sex but can't sleep afterward. So he takes a Valium to sleep but is constipated. He can't get relief because the anticonstipation pill and the Prozac don't mix well. And the best sex he has he can't remember. But it's all Food-and-Drug Administration certified.

Why we are so drug crazed is the question. Why are we a breeding ground for potheads, cokeheads, pillheads, acidheads, junkies, free- basers, etc.? Is there something wrong with our society or is it just part of the American dream turned nightmare? Is it the natural progression of a system where the realities of a large segment of the population are too far removed from the American dream? Does our society alienate as many people as it incorporates?

Unquestionably, the Government doesn't have a clue. It carries on about Mexico and Colombia because it doesn't know what to do. If we wipe out the heroin and cocaine sources, people will come up with something else. They'll mix Prozac with paint thinner and create a new super designer drug. Or maybe they'll freebase formaldehyde and turn everyone into William Buckley. Anyone who has ever worked with drug abusers, who has ever taken drugs, who knows anyone who has ever taken drugs, or who knows someone who knows someone knows that the drugs are not the problem. Why don't Bill Bennett and Bill Clinton? Neither of these men is a brain surgeon, but they aren't idiots either.

Should we assume that there is a serious conspiracy in the drug world? Or should we accept their behavior as typical governmental buffoonery? Perhaps they see drugs as a means of controlling segments of the population that they can't deal with anyway. Or maybe they just don't care. It is truly a great mystery as to why we are so totally inept in recognizing and dealing with this problem.

There are two obvious issues that need to be dealt with. First we must end the delusion that the yellow, black, and brown people of the world have any sympathy for our drug problems. They often refer to us with the P word. (The Clinton, Gingrich, and Bennett imagery certainly enhances that perception.) We can't control what happens outside the country. Second, we have to come to terms with the reality of our obsessive need to consume drugs. The source of the problem is not where the drugs are produced, but where they are consumed.

Ultimately the whole problem is a bummer. The drugs don't make you feel good after a while, but you continue to take them. The addiction is not to the substance but to the process. At least if people felt good while they were getting high there might be some redeeming value. But getting loaded makes no more sense than the Government's drug policies. So the population is on drugs, the Government has to be on drugs, and nobody's happy. Summer is just around the corner, and we'll soon be tanned and beautiful. Life is getting very strange out here.

NEIL HAUSIG

Metaphorical Machete

East Hampton

March 15, 1997

Dear Helen Rattray,

In the March 13 "From the Studio" column regarding the current Parrish Museum exhibit, Rose C.S. Slivka states that "in the decade following World War II, the majority of artists were men, and there is no question but that Abstract Expressionism was the result of the big macho gesture." "Generally speaking," she continues, "the women did not have quite the same physical strength. . . ."

As a fan of Ms. Slivka, this statement without any qualifications or explanations greatly disturbs me. Doesn't she believe that the old boys network and the professional exclusion of women were even more prevalent in the '40s than they are now? And, besides, with all respect for Jackson Pollock, how much strength did it take for him to sling pigments from a stick or lift a paint can?

Many important female artists were not given their due after World War II for complicated reasons, but neither physical strength nor talent is among them.

As a female artist myself, reviewed favorably in The New York Times and other newspapers as one of the New York Bad Girls, I am very sensitive to the way women are, or are not, given their deserved places in art history. My own work, which is sculpture incorporating dulled steel machete blades, addresses (subconsciously, perhaps) the issues of power/vulnerability, asculinity/feminin ity, and seriousness/whimsy.

On the heels of reading this article's justification for male dominance in post-World War II Abstract Expressionism, as well as seeing The East Hampton Independent's March 12 "Room Full a Chicks" caption under the photo of the three female jurors for the Salon des Femmes exhibition, one might be justified in feeling that the only way for a woman to be given equal and serious treatment in the art world is for her to brandish a metaphorical machete.

Cordially,

LINDA STEIN

Letter Home From Boynton Beach

March 14, 1997

Dear Editor:

There was a time not so very long ago when the harbors, creeks, and bays of eastern Long Island abounded in shellfish and finfish, the quality of which was rarely surpassed. The prime waters in the Town of East Hampton were Three Mile Harbor, Accabonac Creek, Napeague Harbor, and Great Pond. After a channel was dredged, connecting it to Block Island Sound, Great Pond's name was changed to Lake Montauk. The waters of Northwest Harbor border on the Town of East Hampton, but are under the jurisdiction of the State of New York. To generations of Springs fishermen, Northwest Harbor has been known as "Up-Bay." That body of water, too, was a prime fishing area.

Up until the first 30 years of this century, one of the most difficult tasks in a fisherman's long and arduous day was getting to a launching site. In those days, there were no concrete launching ramps, nor were there any paved roads in the town's woodlands for him to travel on. It was not until the town election of 1929 that serious consideration was given to improving the two-rut wagon paths that served as roads throughout the town's woodlands from the time of the land allotments of the early 18th century.

When the roads were first laid out, they were more or less straight to conform with the established boundaries, but as time passed, sections of them developed turns as uprooted trees fell across the wagon paths. Instead of the path, the horse or oxen- drawn wagon was driven around the tree, thus creating a turn in the road.

In 1930 as unemployment increased, idle men with families went to the Overseer of the Poor to request welfare assistance. After being urged by a few influential citizens and the increasing numbers seeking welfare, the Town Board approved a woods road project. The approval of the project was received favorably by the town's electorate, as it would create employment for jobless men, and the woods road system would be greatly improved.

Prior to the road improvement project, baymen often had difficulty trailering their boats and gear to the shore. Sam Nelson, a bayman who lived on Miller Terrace, used Oak View Highway and Hand's Creek Road to go to his fishing shanty on the northwest shore of Three Mile Harbor near the foot of Sammy's Beach. His route along Hand's Creek through the Gardiner property, now the Settlers Landing Subdivision, to his shanty was a sandy, often rocky two-rut wagon path.

At one section, north of the Hand's Creek-Hand's Path junction, there was a rocky section which, at times, was nearly impossible to travel over because of excessive erosion created by severe rainstorms. The slope, known as Long Hill, was difficult to travel on under normal conditions, but a trailered boat loaded with gear made travel much worse. The return trip was often more time-consuming, due to the added weight of fish or shellfish. Before Springy Banks Road was improved, the slope just to the north of the Hampton Waters subdivision was as rocky and as difficult to travel as Long Hill. After the roads were improved, the bayman's real work began after his arrival at the shore.

After a bayman arrived at the shore, he backed his car as far as possible without getting stuck in the sand. Backing up over a rocky beach was no problem, so he'd go to the water's edge with his car. Usually, the trailer was in deep enough water to float the boat as it came off the trailer. When he unloaded the boat on a sandy shore, he placed homemade wooden rollers under the boat and pushed until it floated. With his gear aboard, and in its proper place, he rowed to the area he wanted to work in. There were few outboard motors available, and they were not reliable. Powering for scallops was illegal back then.

Upon arrival at his working area, he threw the anchor over the side, and if he was scalloping, he prepared his workday by placing the culling-board just aft of midships, which allowed adequate space in which to work. The culling-board was long enough to span the beam of his boat. On each side of the culling-board, a retaining board, several inches in height and about an inch in thickness, was fastened to prevent the scallops and other debris from falling into the boat, as he emptied the dredge. The unwanted grass, shells, etc., were swept overboard as he culled.

Most baymen wore oilers which were purchased at stores similar to the Edwards Brothers' store at Promised Land. Oilers prevented water from entering their boots and wetting their feet. Oilers, in those days, were not the nice synthetic types seen today. They were coated with a sticky waterproof substance, which at times was annoying, especially when the arms and legs adhered to each other.

When everything was in place, he played out the anchor line a predetermined distance and threw one or two dredges overboard. When dredging on a bottom full of grass, one dredge was about all he could handle. After the dredges reached bottom, he went to the bow and grabbed the anchor line and proceeded to pull it in hand over hand until the dredges were full. As each dredge was lifted aboard, it was emptied on the culling board, where the scallops were gathered and the unwanted debris was tossed overboard.

On a calm day, when the bottom was clearly visible, a bayman picked up scallops by catching them in a long-handle scoop net. Picking up scallops from the bottom was much more relaxing than pulling that anchor line and lifting dredges. Also, the culling operation was eliminated.

The pickup net, about eight to 10 inches in diameter and 16 to 18 inches in length, was attached to a one-quarter-inch metal hoop, the tang of which securely fastened into a long wooden handle.

Fish oil, obtained from the fish processing plant at Promised Land, was used to smooth the water and make it translucent. The oil was processed from menhaden, a small herring-like fish known as bunkers by local folks. When it was dispersed in small drops from a cork bottle stopper, the water became clear, allowing the baymen to view the bottom more distinctly. The picking-up operation was more productive during the morning hours, for sea breezes, which arose in the afternoon, often made picking up impossible.

After filling five bushel baskets and putting them into burlap bags, the bayman gathered his gear and rowed to shore. Upon reaching shore, he removed the gear and scallops, and washed out the boat. If the following day looked promising, he left the boat securely anchored above the high water mark. In those days, boats left on the shore were as safe as they would be if they were in the owner's backyard.

After arriving home, he unloaded the trailer and carried the scallops to his opening bench. With the aid of his wife, he opened scallops without interruption, except when he arrived home late in the afternoon along toward sundown. When that occurred, he ate a quick supper and then commenced opening scallops, and he did not stop until all of them were opened and placed in some kind of refrigeration. A bayman's children were required to learn the art of opening scallops, for many hands made light work.

After the scallops were opened, they were taken to a wholesaler. If the price was satisfactory, they were sold. If the price was unfavorable or if the wholesaler had gone for the day, the scalloper would go house to house the following day selling scallops for 50 cents a quart. If the following day was a good day to harvest scallops, the schoolboy had the task of peddling scallops after school.

People were rarely unfriendly and seldom passed up scallops, especially at 50 cents a quart or 25 cents a pint. Clams and scallops were put in pint and quart glass containers and were carried in a large market basket. When peddling from house to house, women often emptied the jars and washed, dried, and returned them to the peddler, who waited outside. In our modern world it is difficult to understand how common folk could be so patient, kind, and friendly. Rarely was a peddler treated in a degrading manner.

There were two places in the village where scallops and clams were quickly sold. They were Halsey's Garage and East End Hardware, where the employees could not afford to pass up an inexpensive opportunity.

A few of the less scrupulous baymen soaked scallops in fresh water to swell them in order to obtain a greater yield. Water-soaked scallops were never as delicious as those which had never been exposed to fresh water.

Before the tarred road to Lazy Point was constructed, there were times when it was difficult to reach Napeague Harbor. The old road, which passed through the Hayes fish factory, skirted the shoreline, passed close to the Point o' Pines, and continued on to the Lazy Point shanties.

Shellfish taken from the waters of Napeague Harbor were rated very highly among the local residents. Many of the housewives, especially Jessie Adams, would never think to make a chowder without Napeague long clams. The scallops gathered in those pristine waters were larger in shell size, as were the eyes or muscles which we eat. The hard shell clams, or quahogs, grew to such enormous sizes that to describe them one would be accused of telling yarns. I was told by one old-timer that he filled a bushel fruit basket with 16 of those large clams, and he is a man noted for his integrity.

Any bay or harbor shore within the Town of East Hampton was abundant in shellfish back in the '30s. Softshell clams were so plentiful that any person of limited ability would dig at least one bushel during a falling tide. The more skillful dug as many as four bushels during a tide.

Standing in a boat tonging hard clams was rugged and backbreaking work, but many a bayman made a living and enjoyed the freedom and peace of mind it brought to him. Several baymen who I recall were skilled carpenters who worked the winter months. As soon as spring arrived, they called it quits to put in fykes and fish-traps. Baymen were independent individuals who were accountable only to their families and themselves.

One of the better soft-clam diggers was Wilbur Taylor Miller, born and raised in the Green River section of Springs, and, like Nat Smith, he knew "Bonac Crik" like the back of his hand. He was not only an excellent clam digger, but he harvested scallops with equal dexterity. As an opener of scallops, he was as fast as any of the better openers. When he opened, he did not waste any motion, nor was there any dirt left on his scallops. Being left-handed, he opened just the opposite from a right-hander. A right-handed person holds the flatter or darker side of the shell facing up, whereas a left-hander has the lighter or more rounded side up.

Clams and fish were shipped to the Fulton Fish Market, but they were first picked up by Reich Brothers of Patchogue. Reich Brothers made a daily run through the East End, picking up butter tubs of clams and boxes of fish. Billy Seeger, who drove for many years for the Reich Brothers, picked up shellfish and finfish at pick-up points. Bill, a nice person and a rugged individual, handled those containers with apparent ease. To some, he was known as Billy Reich. By others, he was just plain Bill. Regardless, he always had a smile and saw the brighter side of life.

As the Great Depression grew worse, more and more men were forced to go clamming in an attempt to make ends meet. Some men, who had never clammed for a living, discovered it was difficult to adapt to the change, both physically and mentally. A person who goes down to the shore to get a mess of clams finds it an easy and relaxing way to spend an hour or so, but, when it becomes the only source of income, the fun vanishes and the drudgery and worry commence. That was one of many reasons why so many people who lived from hand to mouth during those terrible years became so discouraged with life in general.

(To be continued)

Sincerely,

NORTON (BUCKET) DANIELS