Just a little south of Heaven

I was born on eastern long island. I lived in a town named East Hampton. A rural fishing village. This town is about one hundred miles east of New York city. To the inhabitants of East Hampton it may as well been a thousand. Oh,we heard about the " City " but few ever ventured that far from home. That place was full of crooks and thieves. I would go to see a Yankee game but I was from the newer generation. My generation was adventurous and brave. There were many from my parents generation that had never gone much farther than the town of Riverhead, a distance of twenty five miles. I personally knew a few that had never left Long Island in their life. A good majority of the men had been in the war and so had experience with the outside world. Most didn't have much good to say about it. To describe the people that were my family and friends as a clannish lot is not an exaggeration.
Now this town,like a few others out on the end of the island,became popular first with the Artist crowd. They came during the summer months to paint and be inspired. For the most part us locals thought little of them. They were rich folks and didn't know much about real living. We figured they was born with the proverbial silver spoon in their mouths. Other people of wealth built homes on the ocean front and slowly the celebrity crowd moved in as well. A few books were written and movies made. " The Hamptons " became the hot spot. Somewhere along the way however East Hampton started to disappear. Change is inevitable but this was more like a transformation.
The area of my youth was a part of town called Northwest Woods. I lived on the western edge of these woods. It is not a very large area as far as woods go. Keep in mind we are on an island. On the tip were I lived it was no more than a few miles from ocean to bay. My home was about three miles from the village proper. There was only four other houses on the dirt road I lived on. Walk east and you are in the woods.
I wandered and played in these woods. Knew every inch of them. Could hunt pheasants,quail and racoons there. No hunting deer though. Wasn't allowed but rarely.
Living on an island you just naturally spend a lot of time on the water. Fishing and clamming. Dredging up scallops or tonging for oysters. Many made their living off the water. Working the ocean and bays. A tough,colorful lot to say the least. True blue collar workers. Hard working,hard living people given to speaking their minds. It was into this world I was raised.
I left this place to join the Navy. Returned once only to have to leave again. I have managed a few visits over the years. The place has changed and I hear Northwest Woods is chock full of houses now. The waters are polluted and not much commercial fishing going on. East Hampton, as I remember it ,only exists in my own mind. I talk with others from my youth and we share our remembrances.
I didn't know it then, but now I appreciate where I grew up. I suppose it is that way with a lot of people. You can't see what is staring you in the face. Recently someone asked, "Where is Northwest Woods ? "
My response was this, " Just a little south of Heaven "