North Fork And South Fork Like Each Other

It’s About Embracing Differences, Not Fighting Them

By Phyllis Lombardi

“Guilty, your Honor.” That’s how I’d have to plead if questioned about my occasionally dismissive attitude toward the South Fork. I’ve even been known to poke fun their way. You know. Their traffic, their fancy parties. Even their ocean. That last is pure jealousy. Nothing compares with their ocean. Nothing.

Well, I’ve had my comeuppance. I’ve had to re-evaluate the whole South Fork, simply because of one woman. A resident of Southampton who contacted Dan’s Papers concerning a column I wrote about Cutchogue’s Bear Lady.

You remember Anne Cutolo. She heads a North Fork group making teddy bears for kids in Eastern Long Island Hospital.

Anyway, the Southampton lady called Dan’s Papers, offering fabric and trimmings for North Fork bears. Can you imagine! Joan Henfield had a big stash tucked away and would send it north to Anne in Cutchogue.

I called to thank Joan and we talked for half an hour. You’d never know we were separated by that bay. When I hung up the phone, I had to face myself. Joan was a generous woman. I enjoyed talking with her – about jobs, our parents, where we grew up. It was as if we were long-lost friends. Could it be that’s what the South Fork is? A pretty place with lots of long-lost friends?

This premise needed support. Did other North Forkers secretly admire the South Fork, but feared saying so? If that’s the case, a whole new era of north/south relations might commence. A veritable reconstruction.

When Southold’s Fran LoPresti, thinks South Fork, she thinks fish and flowers. I’ll tell you about the flowers. Years ago, Fran and her husband stopped at a South Fork nursery and purchased a careful of hydrangea bushes. Blues, pinks, whites, purples. Now these bushes, grown glorious, line the path to Fran’s front door. Each summer day Fran walks that path, recalling South Fork goodness and beauty.

I, too, have a reminder of South Fork goodness. My car. Purchased in 1993 at Southampton Buick Cadillac, that car introduced me to two special people. Here’s how.

I drove from Cutchogue to Southampton for routine new-car servicing. In winter, I’d sit in the waiting room and have a cup of coffee while the mechanics worked their magic. In warmer weather, I’d walk the nearby roads for an hour or so.

One hot day I headed down a lovely lane south of Hampton Road. Little traffic, lots of pretty landscaping. Even so, I was heat-impaired and looked pretty sorry.

That’s when a couple, walking down the driveway from their home, called hello and asked if I were looking for a particular address. “No,” I said, “just walking and wilting.” I explained the car, the whole bit.

“Wait right here,” the woman instructed. I did so. It was good to be still while I talked with her husband. When the woman returned, she handed me a cup of lemonade. I taste that South Fork kindness even now.

South Fork comfort comes to Mattituck’s Harriet Tuthill when she visits the Walking Dunes in Napeague. Eternal and ever-changing comfort. Harriet’s last visit? Just back a few frigid February weeks.

And on that day, late in the afternoon, Harriet came upon 40 deer. Harriet, a gardener, put away unbecoming thoughts and took to herself the moment’s gift.

One of my sons accepted a South Fork gift, too. Coming home from a Southampton job, he stopped to look out on a choppy ocean. A storm brewing? As he watched, my son David was approached by a gentleman who nodded a greeting. Conversation about the weather, then on to other things. David mentioned his interest in stained glass and immediately the South Fork stranger suggested David would enjoy the stained glass in St. Andrew’s Dune Church, a short walk away. Of course David agreed and of course he talks about the experience to this day. David doesn’t know the identity of the South Fork gentleman whose key unlocked the church door. But my son is grateful.

True, we’ve surveyed only a handful of North Forkers. But I suspect they speak for most of us. With all this good will, it’s a sure bet the two forks will merge in spirit if not actuality. Yeah, there are some rough spots. You guys don’t want your very own ferry to New London and we boast about being Wine Country while I understand you have a vineyard or two. Tell you what. You get that ferry going and we’ll give you some of our grape-growing secrets..