Nostalgia: Coming Of Age In 1960s Long Island

I came of age on the streets of North Merrick in the 1960s. A simpler, more innocent age. A time before high tech. Unlike later generations, us kids were pretty much on our own when we walked out the door. A “play date” wasn’t in our vocabulary. Summer days began with the gang gathering on a wooden fence railing in front of Ronnie and Richie’s house on Sycamore. One by one we showed up in accordance with our individual rhythms; I was rarely among the first wave. Our days were filled with activity, but invariably they started out a little slow. In a sleepy voice someone would mumble, “So whadda you guys wanna do today?” Someone would respond, “I dunno, whadda you wanna do?” This would go on for quite some time, the whole luxuriously-long summer day stretched out before us, just waiting to be filled – but we were in no hurry. Eventually we’d figure it out. Perhaps we’d start the day riding our bikes up and down Elm Street, then move on to war, baseball, trucks, running bases, and a little wood carving action with our pocket knives in a tree overhanging the brook, our activities interrupted only by brief retreats home for lunch and dinner. Perhaps after dinner we’d recruit the younger and older kids in the neighborhood – and even girls – for a game of kickball on Elm Street, right where our day had begun so many hours before. And at dusk we’d put the cherry on our day – literally – with the evening appearance of our Good Humor ice cream man. We had it made in the shade!

This little story above is one of seven, including an anecdote about regrettably not saying "yes" to a girl in 4th grade gym class square dancing at Park Avenue Elementary School, that you can read HERE.