Dan's Papers - September 5, 2008 - On The North Fork, We Are The Supervisors

It started when I was pretty young. People telling me what to do, supervising me. There was that tall lady teacher, for example, who stood next to my desk (so long ago, the desk had an inkwell) and supervised my penmanship. She scared me so thoroughly that even today my handwriting is legible.

Later, when I was in high school, I had a job in a public library. My supervisor, a Mrs. Peck (no Ms. back then), taught me how to paste pockets in the backs of library books. And how things were filed in the card catalog. How lovely that catalog was. Like a rich wood chest holding the treasures of the world. Mrs. Peck was tough. But eventually she secured an increase in salary for me. A nickel an hour over the minimum wage of 75 cents an hour.

I still have supervisors. Don't tell anyone but there's this guy at Dans' Papers who occasionally deletes a word or two of what I write. I miss those words - but he's my supervisor.

And I've another supervisor, too, and that's what this is all about. Scott Russell is supervisor of Southold Town, my home. Now I don't see Super Scott on a regular basis so when I read he was holding community meetings in each of Southold's five hamlets, I decided to attend one - a Thursday night in Mattituck-Laurel Library was good for me. So off I went after an early dinner. The dishes were washed and put away. I was ready to be supervised.

As were other North Forkers who assembled in the library's community room. I recognized Scott right away. He was the only guy wearing a suit and tie. And he was standing up front, as a supervisor will, while the rest of us were seated, waiting.

Well, not all the rest of us. There was one young person who was standing, then sitting backwards on a chair, then lying absolutely still on the carpeted floor. Really. And he was smiling at us while we winked back at him. Carson Russell, the supervisor's 4-year-old son, had come to the meeting with his daddy. Dad explained that Mom was running a bit late and would be along soon to pick up Carson. Meantime, Dad promised that Carson's continued good behavior would merit ice cream after the meeting. Smart dad. Smart son.

Smart folks at the meeting, too. Lots of questions about the future of Plum Island, dredging in Mattituck Inlet, and a Master Plan for Southold Town. Tough issues, all of them, and after responding, Scott surprised me and many others by listing the three most frequent complaints he hears. They concern noise, traffic, and litter.

I'm a pretty quiet person, living on a pretty quiet road. My next door neighbors are here only on an occasional weekend so the things that go chirp in the night account for most of the noise I hear. According to others at the meeting, that's because I don't live next to a marina or a vineyard. Parties there can run too long, too loud. Nor do I live just below helicopter noise or near Main Road where motorcycles may roar by. Scott said that while Southold Town has a decibel reader, the town does not have a noise ordinance. He suggests that police be contacted if the noise matter can't be settled amicably. And get this. He said his phone number is in the book. "Call me and I'll come right over," he said.

One North Fork woman spoke about the traffic light at Wickham Avenue and County Road 48 in Mattituck. Too short an interval for the north/south traveler. "Yeah," responded a guy nearby, "there ought to be a sign reading ONE CAR, GO LIKE HELL."

From there, talk turned to increasing LIRR service on the North Fork, to bus shelters along Main Road, to Cross Sound Ferry, to stop signs, and building and zoning violations. And then a question to Scott. Are you running again? The answer, as we hung on his words (and as Carson hung on Daddy's legs), was simply "Oh, you'll be sick of me after six years."

I thought about that statement and our evening in a community room on the North Fork. You know, in a way, we (you and I) supervise the supervisors. That's just how it is in this country.