My job in the reconstruction of Old Bethpage Village on Long Island was as a consultant. The time was in the mid 1960s when many valuable historic buildings were destroyed by neglect and urban renewal. Every week I flew to Long Island and reported to the director, Ed Smits, to receive my weekly assignment. Ed identified a threatened valuable historic property and I went to its site to evaluate the practicality of moving that building to Old Bethpage Outdoor Museum -- a typical 19th century Long Island village recreation , and similar to Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts.
"This week we have a property that needs your immediate evaluation. It is an early Dutch farmhouse. The new owner has evicted the airline hostess tenants. I think they are moved out by now. He plans to clear his property of all structures to build a new home. We only have weeks to get the farmhouse out of there if we want to move it to Old Bethpage."
I drove to this beautiful and rare early Long Island farmhouse and immediately began my evaluation with photographs and measurements of the exterior. It appeared unoccupied. With the key that Ed gave me, I unlocked the front door and let myself inside to measure and photograph the largely original interior. No one seemed to be living here. I completed my evaluation of the ground floor. Then proceeding up the stairway to the second floor I was amazed to find the walls painted a bright pink, the floor covered by a thick shag rug and the ceiling covered by mirrors. Opening a door to a bedroom I was shocked to encounter a young woman enraged and striding towards me with no clothes.
"What the hell are you doing? GET OUT OF HERE! -- NOW! "
I dropped my camera and equipment.
"GET OUT! -- GET OUT! -- NOW!"
Quickly I picked up my camera and equipment and backed out of her bedroom as she continued to yell at me. I closed the door and went down the stairway and out the front door as fast as possible. My camera appeared damaged and I was shaken by this screaming woman.
Reporting to Ed that the farmhouse was still occupied by at least one stewardess, I quickly completed my evaluation and returned to Boston on an early flight. I was in time to join my wife and young daughters for dinner.
"Well, you could never guess what happened to me today on Long Island."
I shared my tale of photographing and measuring one of Long Island's rare and early Dutch farmhouses -- and how the shock of discovering an enraged and naked airline hostess shouting at me on the second floor had so unnerved me that I dropped my camera and equipment. My wife smiled and broke out laughing.
My six year old daughter, Rebecca, frowned and asked
"Daddy, if she was naked -- how did you know she was an airline hostess?"
"This week we have a property that needs your immediate evaluation. It is an early Dutch farmhouse. The new owner has evicted the airline hostess tenants. I think they are moved out by now. He plans to clear his property of all structures to build a new home. We only have weeks to get the farmhouse out of there if we want to move it to Old Bethpage."
I drove to this beautiful and rare early Long Island farmhouse and immediately began my evaluation with photographs and measurements of the exterior. It appeared unoccupied. With the key that Ed gave me, I unlocked the front door and let myself inside to measure and photograph the largely original interior. No one seemed to be living here. I completed my evaluation of the ground floor. Then proceeding up the stairway to the second floor I was amazed to find the walls painted a bright pink, the floor covered by a thick shag rug and the ceiling covered by mirrors. Opening a door to a bedroom I was shocked to encounter a young woman enraged and striding towards me with no clothes.
"What the hell are you doing? GET OUT OF HERE! -- NOW! "
I dropped my camera and equipment.
"GET OUT! -- GET OUT! -- NOW!"
Quickly I picked up my camera and equipment and backed out of her bedroom as she continued to yell at me. I closed the door and went down the stairway and out the front door as fast as possible. My camera appeared damaged and I was shaken by this screaming woman.
Reporting to Ed that the farmhouse was still occupied by at least one stewardess, I quickly completed my evaluation and returned to Boston on an early flight. I was in time to join my wife and young daughters for dinner.
"Well, you could never guess what happened to me today on Long Island."
I shared my tale of photographing and measuring one of Long Island's rare and early Dutch farmhouses -- and how the shock of discovering an enraged and naked airline hostess shouting at me on the second floor had so unnerved me that I dropped my camera and equipment. My wife smiled and broke out laughing.
My six year old daughter, Rebecca, frowned and asked
"Daddy, if she was naked -- how did you know she was an airline hostess?"