From the Bryant Room Archives
By Myrna Sloam

Summer at Bar Beach: A Reminiscence by Stewart Donaldson

In the 1950s Stewart Donaldson (1907- 1994 ) began compiling stories of his youth in Roslyn. His father, William, had been a coachman and chauffeur on the Clarence Mackay Estate, where Stewart spent his childhood. The following is an excerpt describing his memories of one summer spent at Bar Beach. All of Stewart's writings can be found in the library's Local History Collection.

During the summer of 1922, [starting] from Decoration Day on May 30th, the Donaldsons and Weeks [families] had a tent in tent city at Bar Beach. Each year folks would apply to the Town Hall at Manhasset for permits to put up a tent on the east end of Bar Beach. The rows started on the north side of the beach, about even with the old pavilion, and ran towards the east or towards the "gut." W.A. Craft, the butcher in Roslyn, always had position #1. We had a 9 ½' x 12' tent with a flap put up over a wooden frame, or skeleton, and were right behind the Crafts. We were #1 in the second row. Uncle Art Speedling was caretaker at Bar Beach at the time, so he saw to it that we had a good spot.

There was running water available, also [private] garbage collection and two privies over behind the pavilion. A great many people lived there all summer. There must have been approximately 45 tents and some 20 or 25 of these lived there all summer, until Labor Day. We had 2 folding cots, a small table, several folding camp chairs, kerosene lights and a small kerosene stove to cook on. Uncle Art and Aunt May Speedling lived in a small caretaker's cottage at the entrance to Bar Beach, so I ate there most of the time. I spent most of the summer that year at Bar Beach.

I'll never forget George, "the Greek," who had a small white truck and sold ice cream, soda and hot dogs. He used to come down to the beach every afternoon for several hours to satisfy the folks' thirst and parched throats. When he drove in, he would honk the horn in front of the cottage and Aunt May would run out with the largest dish she had in the house. Poor George would fill it heaping-- hand it back to Aunt May and laugh as he put his hand up and say, "no money please, just enjoy you'self." You see, Uncle Art used to let George in and chase the other vendors out. Boy, we really ate ice cream.

In those days there was no automatic pilot light on gas stoves. You had to light them with a match. Uncle Art told me of a man in New Hyde Park who had invented a gas stove lighter and [sent] me over to see him [so I could] sell them and make some summer money. I asked my father if I could take some money from the Roslyn Savings Bank and try it. I took $30 and bought 100 lighters and sold them for 50 cents each. They sold like hotcakes, but it took a hell of a lot of walking.

The gas lighter had an element inside of a perforated cover, with a shield over it and a handle. When you demonstrated it, you had to hold it over a hot flame first, then all you had to do was turn the gas jet on and hold the lighter over the gas, and presto, it lit. It was good for approximately 1000 lites. I would sell lighters all week and spend the nights and weekends at Bar Beach.

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