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Jo Ann Havrilla in a scene from 'Stephen Wins the Olympics' with Stephen Colbert

By Barbara Anne Kirshner

Dreams do come true. How terribly worthless and dull life would be if we didn’t aspire for something even though we might be surrounded by those voices of “reason” warning us to be practical. But sometimes that dream plays out in ways we never would have imagined.

Jo Ann Havrilla

Take acting for instance. What does it mean to be an “actress”? Is it someone walking the red carpet, cameras flashing, posing in a sequined Versace gown and dripping in Harry Winston diamonds? Is it making major motion pictures or bowing on a lavish Broadway stage to enthusiastic applause or being featured on a long-running television series?

There’s Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep, and Viola Davis living the dream; all household names commanding oodles of money acquired from the wheelings and dealings of big-time agents securing Academy Award-worthy roles for them. But not all actresses luck out with this iconic recognition. In fact, most don’t “make it.”

“There’s a broken heart for every light on Broadway” is an adage that holds much credence. Many come to the Great White Way in search of a life in the theater, but few receive the recognition that Lin-Manuel Miranda with his Hamilton has enjoyed. 

There are some actors who aren’t house-hold names, yet they manage to earn a living wage doing what they love.

Meet 70-year-old working actress, Jo Ann Havrilla, who grew up in Jericho. She pursued the dream refusing to give up. That persistence paid off with some major motion pictures, television, stage and commercials. What makes Havrilla stand out as a formidable presence is her greater than life upbeat nature, energetic persona and timing equal to that of Carol Burnett.

Hers is a life of perseverance. At 23 years of age, she moved from her family’s Jericho home to a studio apartment in Manhattan where she resides to this day with her husband, Brad Firminger.

She earned her equity card while in her early twenties and doors opened for professional stage work.

Jo Ann Havrilla in a scene from ‘Hairspray’

Havrilla’s ability to play characters of all ages, especially those much older than her years, landed her the role at age 38 of Prudence Pingleton, the overprotective mother of Tracy Turnblad’s friend, Penny, in John Waters’ 1988 cult classic film Hairspray. 

In 1989, Havrilla appeared as  Boolie Werthan’s loyal secretary, Miss McClatchey, in another classic film, Driving Miss Daisy, this time with the legends, Morgan Freeman and Jessica Tandy. That same year she was in the Tom Selleck, James Farentino film, Her Alibi.

A role on the 1989-1990 television series True Blue followed the films. Other television credits include All My Children, One Life to Live and the Michael J. Fox series, Spin City. 

In 2004 Havrilla was featured in the comedic role of diner waitress Maxine  in the short film Sara Goes to Lunch which received recognition at the 2005 Fargo Film Festival.  

In 2010, Havrilla landed a role on Comedy Central’s The Colbert Report opposite Stephen Colbert performing in a satirical skit titled “Stephen Wins the Olympics.” Havrilla played Colbert’s coach, Svetlana Oranskaya, strong as nails with a thick Russian accent. Her hysterical performance made the scene so successful that she was invited back during the 2014 Olympics to recreate Oranskaya. Hopefully, Colbert will resurrect Oranskaya during this coming summer’s Olympics. 

In 2018 the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences celebrated the 30th anniversary of the making of Hairspray by reuniting Havrilla and the cast with their director, John Waters, at the Samuel Goldwyn Theater in Los Angeles. 

Much commercial work and personal speaking appearances keep her busy to date. Havrilla centers her talks on her lengthy career and what it was like working with some of the most prominent personalities in show business. She enjoys retelling how John Waters worked with a mere budget of 2 million dollars, making it imperative for the actors to nail the scenes on the first take. 

Havrilla knows she has been lucky though her name may not trip off your tongue. But look through magazines or newspapers and you just might see her inviting grin or watch the original 1988 Hairspray, Driving Miss Daisy or Her Alibi and see her doing what she loves best — being a working actress.

Her advice is don’t ever give up. Your dream may not materialize quite as you envision, but persistence pays off. Doors will open and opportunities will unfold. Believe in yourself and you can make dreams happen.

Postscript: Havrilla’s inspirational message of ‘never giving up’ happened in a dramatic way on January 26, 2021, when 48-year-old country singer/songwriter, Thad Cockrell debuted on The Tonight Show, getting a chance of a lifetime to perform his original song “Swingin” remotely with the Tonight Show band, The Roots. 

This story is as fantastic as it gets. Jimmy Fallon heard Cockrell’s anthem song while he was in  the local hardware store. The lyrics, with the motivating chorus “If I’m gonna go down, I wanna go down swinging,” so impressed Fallon that he invited Cockrell, who had been a struggling artist for decades, to perform his song on The Tonight Show. Cockrell’s album, If In Case You Feel the Same, released in 2020, hit number three on iTunes, shooting him to instant success.

Miller Place resident Barbara Anne Kirshner is a freelance journalist, playwright and author of “Madison Weatherbee —The Different Dachshund.”

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A car buried in its driveway during the snowstorm earlier this month. Photo by Bill Landon

 

Anthony Portesy

Another storm in Brookhaven, another botched snow removal. How many times must residents be forced to deal with such incompetence when it comes to snow removal? Potholes and snowdrifts don’t care what political party you belong to. In the Town of Brookhaven, the superintendent of highways is elected in an at-large election, rather than appointed, as is the case in many towns in which a department of public works exists. In both of my bids for Brookhaven Town highway superintendent in 2017 and 2019, I openly criticized why pay-to-play practices are eroding our roads and quality of life and the status of the Highway Superintendent as an elected position is a large part of the systemic plague eroding the department’s accountability.

The fact of the matter is this position should be filled by appointment, rather than election. Many decisions on infrastructure need to be based on 10- and 20-year capital plans, and the sobering reality is that elections force a short-term vision that channels reelection interests over long-term planning. It is why we have cheap “mill and fill” paving jobs, rather than full-depth reclamation projects to address underlying structural integrity in roads. If John Q. Public sees roads getting repaved, many do not know that pricing decisions like asphalt composition and curb milling have a long-term impact as to whether the roads will crumble after three years or last for 10 years.

The reality is that towns on Long Island that have elected highway superintendents have structural deficiencies in projects that develop due to the pressure of electoral races. Towns like mine, Brookhaven, should put up for referendum whether to convert their highway departments to DPW formats. None of Nassau’s towns elect highway superintendents, but with the exception of Babylon and Islip, all of Suffolk’s towns do.

In many jobs, what we want is competence. Voting for a town clerk, a county treasurer or a highway superintendent based on politics and party affiliation makes no more sense than choosing an airplane pilot based on those criteria. The current system creates nests of patronage and homes for unqualified political hacks that harm both our governmental structures and the residents who need their services. For instance, what gives my highway superintendent the capacity to lead a highway department when his résumé includes a short stint at New York State Assembly, a Suffolk legislator and, before that, a claims adjuster for State Farm Insurance.

The position of highway superintendent is a job that requires expertise in equipment purchasing, operation and maintenance, emergency management and personnel. The elected town supervisor should pick a person with an engineering background to oversee the department and suffer the lash of voters if he or she picks an incompetent one. In Brookhaven, we get the finger-pointing roulette, where town Supervisor Ed Romaine (R) points the finger at Dan Losquadro (R), who in turn points the finger at the supervisor.

We need to look at all jobs, at every level of local government, to determine if political philosophy plays any part in how they should be done. Where it doesn’t, voters should pass referendums making them appointive positions — and punish the elected leaders doing the appointing if their choices fail.

Part of my goal in running for this office twice in Brookhaven was to draw attention to the issues that plague my local highway department, problems that have led our roads to look like they belong in Beirut, instead of Brookhaven. Unfortunately, a well-funded incumbent with a campaign war chest in excess of at least $400,000 makes a political upset nearly impossible with the incumbent able to blanket the airwaves with radio ads and your mailboxes with glossy mailers by the dozens. As a result, the status quo becomes calcified. I had never intended to run the department like my predecessors had I won the election. Rather, I had intended to immediately move the town board to propose to eliminate the position in a referendum to the voters. The position of highway superintendent in my town is one plagued by political patronage, and as I said in both of my campaigns, “Politics has no place in pothole repair.”

Anthony Portesy, of Port Jefferson Station, is a private attorney who ran for Brookhaven superintendent of highways in 2017 and 2019.

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Photo from Pixabay

By Ken Taub

A formidable collection of naturalists, scientists, academics and Long Island nature organizations came together in a remote meeting to discuss the current status and future viability of the ancient horseshoe crabs (Limulus polyphemus) in our area.  The January 15, 2021 meeting, via Zoom, co-sponsored by Seatuck Environmental Organization and Sierra Club, Long Island group, was a continuation of the first meeting at Seatuck in February 2020.   The goal of an ongoing working group was curtailed by the Covid pandemic.  This January meeting represented the delayed, but no less dynamic, follow-up with 29 esteemed attendees.

The opening presentation was by naturalist John Turner and Dr. Matthew Sclafani of Cornell Cooperative Extension (CCE) to discuss the alternative bait project, a cutting-edge endeavor to refine, test and distribute a synthetic bait alternative, so that local fishermen and baymen use this, rather than the horseshoe crabs, as bait for eel and whelk.  The project, in development for several years, was given new momentum, and funding, by a substantial, joint donation by Seatuck and Sierra Club.

Other presentations included proposed 2021 horseshoe stock management directives by the NY Dep’t. of Environmental Conservation (DEC); monitoring and tagging of these now vulnerable 350 million year old arthropods with a new app, to be used by research groups and “citizen scientists” alike; habitat protection; the increased use of mesh bait bags; and reduction of harvest quotas.

The group picked up a key topic from the 2020 meeting: increasing lunar closures, or moonlight moratoriums, on the taking of horseshoe crabs as bait during full and new moons in the late spring mating seasons.  Currently, there are four days in late May and early June where the DEC does not permit bait harvest.  The discussions explored when we might have more harvest moratorium days, or even a full moratorium as they have in other East coast states, since the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, in 2019, summarized the New York region as having a worsening picture after each annual assessment of area horseshoe crab stocks, which used to be plentiful on Long Island beaches and inlets. 

As Dr. Charles Bevington, outgoing Chair of the L.I. Sierra Club, stated in his opening remarks:  “I am not a scientist. I am an advocate for ecological biodiversity.  My present horseshoe crab advocacy is for their actual survival as a species.  I believe that the horseshoe crab lifecycle is in precipitous decline.”  On this troublesome evaluation there was general agreement.  Recent stock assessments by the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission point to the fact that our area is at a critical juncture, which will require a multi-prong effort, including bait moratoriums, to reverse this worrisome downward trend for a unique, ecologically vital species.  Horseshoe crab eggs provide sustenance for migrating shore birds, while their special blood is used to test for dangerous endotoxins in medical procedures, chemotherapy and vaccinations, including the new Covid 19 vaccines.

Attendees included biologists, marine scientists, professors, and organization leaders from the DEC, Stony Brook University, Adelphi University, the Audubon Society, NYS South Shore Estuary Reserve, Save the Great South Bay, The Nature Conservancy and The Safina Center, Southampton Baymen’s Assn., a fishing fleet captain, as well as 14 representatives from Seatuck, L.I. Sierra Club and Cornell Cooperative Extension.

Author Ken Taub is a member of the L.I. Sierra Club.

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Jack Wilson at the piano

By Thomas J. Manuel, D.M.A.

There’s that old saying that, “A picture speaks a thousand words.”

As I walk through the Jazz Loft lately I’m more mindful of the photos that are throughout our 6,000 square foot museum that is sadly idle and quiet these many months. I have some favorites, although they all speak to me in different ways. For me the photos speak stories of my friends and they remind me of our time together, albeit brief. They are also powerful reminders of this great lineage in Jazz that we who participate as musicians are all a part of.

When I pass the photos we have of Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington I look at the youthful faces of my friends, who looked quite different when I knew them, and I repeatedly think to myself, “Wow, how amazing it must have been for them to share the stage and create music together with those giants!”

Louis Jordan as a baby

Born roughly two years apart, Ellington in 1899 and Armstrong in 1901 respectively, both had already lived through the first World War and they would go on to witness the Spanish Flu epidemic, the Great Depression, World War II, the Cold War, and the turbulent 1960s and the Vietnam conflict.

One can read Louis Armstrong’s descriptions of his experience of the 1918 influenza pandemic firsthand as he remembers it in his 1954 memoir Satchmo: My Life in New Orleans. There he says: “Just when the government was about to let crowds of people congregate again so that we could play our horns once more the lid was clamped down tighter than ever. That forced me to take any odd jobs I could get. With everybody suffering from the flu, I had to work and play the doctor to everyone in my family as well as all my friends in the neighborhood. If I do say so, I did a good job curing them.”

Today Jazz musicians and artists in general are experiencing a complete and utter shutdown that literally hasn’t been seen since over a hundred years ago as Armstrong described. The question of course we’re all asking ourselves regardless of what walk of life we come from is, “How do I deal with this? What do I DO?”

One of the greatest American composers, Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington might be of inspiration and assistance to us as it was Duke Ellington who once said that, “A problem is a chance for you to do your best.” Put that little caveat together with some sage words of wisdom from old satchel mouth himself and you’ve got quite the collaboration of ideas— in the spirit of Jazz of course. Louis Armstrong’s own theory on how to solve those problems was that, “If lots more of us loved each other, we’d solve lots more problems.”

The music of these larger than life giants in Jazz continues to inspire us decades after their departure from the stage of life, but if one digs deeper (and ya gotta dig to dig, ya dig!?) you’ll find a type of inspiration that speaks to that deeper place in each of us. It speaks not just to the heart, but to the soul. It speaks not just about happiness, but of joy.

These are truly different things and Duke and Pops were not only in tune with them, they were absolutely vibrating with these truths. In fact, their generation was indeed one that was skilled in navigating problems. When I walk through the Jazz Loft and purvey these photos of youthful legends I can’t help but think about how skillfully, how successfully they fought their battles and wrestled their giants.

Teddy Charles dancing with his sister

Vibraphonist Teddy Charles (actually Theodore Cohen, Teddy Charles was his stage name) had a father who discouraged music and was forced to change his name to gain entrance into the music business because his given name was too Jewish. Luckily his mother who had been a somewhat accomplished pianist and singer who dabbled briefly in early entertainment playing for silent movies and vaudeville encouraged her son’s musical journey. Charles would continue to compose, perform, arrange, record and produce, one of the first quintuple threats in the music industry alongside his pals Mingus, Trane, Monk, Bird, and a slew of others.

Pianist Jack Wilson was so poor that his parents literally couldn’t feed him so he was sent from Chicago at the end of the Great Depression to live with an aunt up north who had enough means to do so. Luckily for Jack there was a piano in the house which became his emotional outlet. He’d later join the army and would be appointed the director of the Third Army Area Band; the first black person to ever hold the position. Wilson would pursue college studies at the University of Indiana and go on to collaborate with Dinah Washington, Sammy Davis Jr., Sarah Vaughan and his trio would become the hard bop jewel in the crown of Blue Note Records.

LLoyd Trotman, in black shirt, with Duke Ellington, third from left

If you pay the Jazz Loft a visit when we’re open again you can gaze upon the photos of others like Louis Jordan, Lester Lanin, Keely Smith, Arthur Prysock and Lloyd Trotman. Without even trying these individuals modeled their values and taught us what really was important. Forged by the struggles of their time they’d go on to become the grandfather of rock n’ roll, pioneering Grammy artists, civil rights workers, and to produce the soundtrack to the American experience during the 20th century. If you don’t recognize the names you’re sure to recognize the tunes: “Stand By Me”, “Let The Good Times Roll”, “From Here to Eternity” “That Old Black Magic” and if you’re old enough, remember “Let it Be Lowenbrau”?

There has never been another person like those mentioned prior. They were men and women of deep faith, undying love, tenacious conviction, profound insight and constant hope. They taught us that it can be easy to quit during difficult times without a strong and proper foundation, and in doing so showed us that hard work and living ones truth can build that foundation to withstand the hard times.

Their’s was a deeper message not to let anyone think less of you because you are young— to be an example to all in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, and so much more. Their example was one of seeing our problems as wondrous opportunities to do better, and most of all, to show love. They were, in a word, JAZZ. And if Jazz were a person, we’d all be a better person our selves for having them in our lives.

Tom Manuel

Author Tom Manuel is a Jazz historian, music educator, trumpet player and Founder and President of The Jazz Loft, 275 Christian Ave., Stony Brook. For more information, visit www.thejazzloft.org.

This article first appeared in Prime Times, a supplement of TBR News Media, on Jan. 28, 2021.

 

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A scene from a previous TVHS Candlelight House Tour

Like many small not-for-profits, the Three Village Historical Society has struggled during the COVID-19 pandemic. Whereas in the past — from our beginnings — we were fortunate to be able to rely primarily on memberships, private donations and revenue from major events like our Candlelight House Tour — our biggest annual fundraiser. That model is not sustainable during the current pandemic.

The board of trustees has worked hard over the past 10 months in an attempt to reorganize and economize. During this time, we have developed more efficient processes, secured small grants, held fundraising events, lobbied both the town and county for support, met with local sister organizations regarding collaborations and consulted with others about possible strategies. Despite these efforts, like many other local businesses, we have a challenging 12 to 18 months ahead of us.

As of Jan. 22, day-to-day operations have been temporarily restricted. Programs will be suspended, and staff has been trimmed down. We will maintain our phone, email and social media communications and will continue to provide monthly Zoom lectures. Our primary purpose at this point is to ensure the care, protection and integrity of our collections and continue our online programming.

Please check our website (tvhs.org) and social media for announcements. We will continue to share updates throughout this period. While there is limited response by phone, we remain available to answer questions by email and work with you. We can be contacted by email at [email protected] or by phone at 631-751-3730.

We are in this together and understand many local businesses and nonprofits are suffering. We thank you for your support and understanding. Buy local. Support local.

Stephen Healy, President

Three Village Historical Society

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The annual Charles Dickens Festival in Port Jefferson was canceled in 2020 out of an abundance of caution. Photo by Glenn Tinnie

By Allan Varela

We are living in strange times with the political upheaval and the terrible, deadly pandemic hanging over our lives. Every day we are literally battered with controversy and bad news. 

There is one place of comfort, however. We find it in the arts. We listen to music and watch music videos. We turn on movies old and new and stream over the top shows that offer constant variation. We might even look at a book of visual art or search for fine art online. The arts are present when we sing a song together, when a family member plays the piano or guitar or draws a picture. Yes indeed. The arts are alive in our lives. But there is so much more to this cultural picture than the obvious I just stated.

Every day, in every way we live, our lives are surrounded by the work of artists. Look down at the chair you are sitting in while reading this story. That’s right, it was designed in part by an artist and created by artisans. Look around the room you are in. If you see wallpaper, it was designed by an artist. The color palette of the paint scheme in your home was created by an artist. The ring on your finger and the jewelry you wear were all designed by artists. 

Your clothes — designed by an artist; your home — designed by an artist; the car you drive — designed by an artist. You see, everything you live with and in was designed to some degree by an artist. Everything you use to express yourself to the world was designed… well, you get it!

I am writing this as a reminder that the arts and artists of all types are hurting right now. It is easy to say “So what?” but remembering the impact the arts have on our lives should lead to “How can I help?” There are numerous not-for-profit organizations that need our help. Those of us fortunate enough to financially weather our current storm need to reach out to support these groups as they support artists, the arts and the cultural life of our communities.

These organizations have found ways to present engaging concerts online, to show documentary films that include a Q&A with the director online or make reservations to see an exhibit whilst keeping to community health standards. But the revenue stream for ticket sales has dried up and I fear that some of the groups will begin to fall apart. 

The arts organizations have wonderful financial impact on our communities. Property values remain stable or increase in communities that offer arts programming. Every dollar invested in an Arts Council program brings back some four dollars in revenue from simple things like an audience buying gas to get to a show, to visiting a local restaurant for a meal before or after a show.

Cultural engagement is needed to keep our communities enriched and interesting. Financial engagement is what is needed to keep our cultural organizations alive. Please make a difference and donate, as you are able, to a local not-for-profit arts organization or museum. Even a small amount can make a big difference.

Allan Varela serves as chair for the Greater Port Jefferson-Northern Brookhaven Arts Council which hosts the Port Jefferson Documentary Series, Charles Dickens Festival, WinterTide Concert Series, Sunset Concert Series and Fiddle & Folk Festival. To support or sponsor the Greater Port Jefferson-Northern Brookhaven Arts Council,  please visit www.gpjac.org/sponsor.

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Candy counter at the St. James General Store
The St. James General store during the holidays last year.
Hats on display at the St. James General Store.
The back room of the store features old-fashioned toys and games.
The top floor of the store features books and gifts.
The top floor of the store also features Christmas and holiday items.
The St. James General Store

By Barbara Anne Kirshner

In this strange new world of plexiglass partitions, floor stamps marking 6 foot separations and arrows directing us down aisles, it is comforting to climb those creaky wooden steps, open that squeaky green door, enter the circa 1857 house that is the St James General Store and travel back to colonial times.

I was first introduced to this singular establishment as a little girl by my Aunt Nancy who lived in Smithtown. Upon entering the store, I was met with a delectable, sweet scent that wafted through the air. Rows of glass canisters housing assorted old-fashioned candies from licorice to malted milk balls to nonpareils to ribbon candy to fudge was enough to make any child’s eyes sparkle, especially a child with a sweet tooth as big as mine. 

We walked down the long aisle opposite the candy counter where bric-a-brac reminiscent of the Victorian era was displayed. Toward the back of that counter was a glass case containing one of a kind pieces of jewelry.

The back room of the store was a treat for any child and child at heart with displays of old fashioned toys including Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls, wooden yoyos, assorted crafts and stuffed animals. 

Opposite the toy counter was a rack of beautiful hats hinting of Victorian charm in an array of colors and decorated with ribbons, flowers or feathers. Shelves of unique scarves and gloves were arranged next to the hat rack.

We rounded the corner and headed up the rickety wooden staircase to a large room that contained a library divided into sections with books related to Long Island, children’s literature, travel and Victorian genre.

Beyond the book section, we stepped into the Christmas room where we were met with an enchanting kingdom of Christmas trees decorated with unique ornaments, stars and angels.

After my Aunt Nancy and I completed our tour, we returned to the candy counter where she invited me to choose some confection as a souvenir of our visit. I went for my favorites, the malted milk balls. As she drove us back to her house, I popped one of these delectable treats in my mouth letting it luxuriously melt away. To my delight, this tasty morsel seemed triple wrapped in rich milk chocolate; easily the best version of itself I have ever tasted and I pride myself on being a malted milk ball connoisseur.

I have returned to the St. James General Store at different stages in my life and to my delight everything has always remained the same. I have brought friends and family there, eager to see their eyes light up at every twist and turn.

I recently returned to the store for the first time since this COVID pandemic assaulted all our lives. Though the woman behind the candy counter is now separated from the public by plexiglass, I emitted a great big sigh of relief taking comfort in the familiarity from within. Everything is the same as I remember dating back to my first visit with my beloved Aunt Nancy.

If you would like a trip back to a happier, simpler time, stop into the St. James General Store where a sense of comfort will swaddle you the moment you step beyond that green door.

Miller Place resident Barbara Anne Kirshner is a freelance journalist, playwright and author of “Madison Weatherbee —The Different Dachshund.”

All photos by Barbara Anne Kirshner

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Plum Island’s habitats include beach and dune covered in native grasses and shrubs (Photo by Robert Lorenz)
The archipelago of Plum Island hosts Roseate Terns, a federally endangered species (Photo by AJ Hand)
Above, Plum Island’s acres of freshwater marsh are lush with life. (Photo by Robert Lorenz)
Plum Island Preserve Vision Concept

By John L. Turner

Situated a mile east of Orient Point, the eastern tip of the North Fork and separated from it by Plum Gut, lies Plum Island, an 822-acre pork-chop shaped island that is owned by you and me (being the federal taxpayers that we are). 

The island’s most well-known feature is the Plum Island Animal Disease Center (PIADC), situated in the northwestern corner of the property, but Plum Island is so much more. On the western edge lays the Plum Island lighthouse which was built in 1869 to warn mariners of the treacherous currents of Plum Gut. On the east there’s the brooding presence of Fort Terry, a relict of the Spanish-American War, with scattered evidence in the form of barracks, gun batteries, and the tiny tracks of a toy gauge railroad once used to move cannon shells from storage to those concrete batteries. (The cannons never fired except during drills).

And there’s the stuff that excites naturalists:

■ The largest seal haul-out site in southern New England located at the eastern tip of the island where throngs of harbor and grey seals swim along the rocky coastline or bask, like fat sausages, on the off-shore rocks that punctuate the surface of the water.

■ The more than 225 different bird species, one-quarter of all the species found in North America, that breed here (like the bank swallows that excavate burrows in the bluff face on the south side of the island), or pass through on their seasonal migratory journeys, or overwinter.

■ Dozens of rare plants, like ladies’-tresses orchids, blackjack oak, and scotch lovage that flourish in the forests, thickets, meadows, and shorelines of Plum Island.

■ A large freshwater pond in the southwestern section of the island that adds visual delight and biological diversity to the island. 

■ And, of course, the ubiquitous beach plums that gave the island its name!

For the past decade a struggle has ensued to make right what many individuals, organizations of all sorts (including the more than 120-member Preserve Plum Island Coalition), and many public officials consider a significant wrong — Congress’s order to sell Plum Island to the highest bidder, forever losing it as a public space. 

This ill-conceived path of auctioning the island was set in motion by a half-page paragraph buried in a several thousand- page bill to fund government agencies in 2009. Fortunately, this struggle has been won — the wrong has been righted — as language included in the recently adopted 2021 budget bill for the federal government, repeals the requirement that the General Services Administration sell the island. 

Thank you to Senators Chuck Schumer and Kirsten Gillibrand of New York, Senators Christopher Murphy and Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut and members of Congress Lee Zeldin,Tom Suozzi, Rosa DeLauro and Joe Courtney!

Thanks is also due to New York State Assemblyman Steve Englebright who sponsored legislation that was signed into law creating a Marine Mammal and Sea Turtle area in the waters surrounding Plum Island.

While this victory is a vital and necessary step to ultimately protect Plum Island, it is a temporary and incomplete one since the island can still be sold to a private party through the normal federal land disposition process if no government agency at the federal, state, or local level steps up to take title to the island. 

The Coalition’s next task, then, is to ensure that a federal agency such as the National Park Service (National Monument?), U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (National Wildlife Refuge?) or the state of New York (New York State Park Preserve?) expresses a willingness to accept stewardship of this magnificent island, since they get first dibs to the island if they want it. A key enticement toward this end is the $18.9 million commitment in the budget to clean up the few contaminated spots on the island.

Why the sale in the first place? Since 1956 PIADC has been conducting top level research on highly communicable animal diseases such as foot-and-mouth disease. To this end, several years ago staff developed a vaccine for this highly contagious disease that holds great promise in controlling the disease globally.

Despite this successful research, Congress determined the facility was obsolete and should be replaced, approving the construction of a new state-of-the-art facility, known as the National Bio and Agro-Defense Facility (NBAF), to be located on the campus of Kansas State University in Manhattan, Kansas. NBAF is complete and will soon be fully operational so as a result PIADC is no longer needed; PIADC is expected to transfer all operations to Kansas and close for good in 2023.

Plum Island is a rare place — a remarkable asset that holds the promise of enriching Long Islanders’ lives —your family’s lives, if we can keep it in public ownership. The Preserve Plum Island Coalition, with the input from hundreds of Long Islanders, has painted a vision for the island … so, imagine throwing binoculars, a camera, and a packed lunch enough for you and your family into your backpack and participating in this realized vision by:

— Taking a ferry across to the island, debarking to orient your island adventure by visiting a museum interpreting the cultural and natural riches and fascinating history of the island before you wander, for countless hours, to experience the wild wonders of the island. A most worthwhile stop is the island’s eastern tip where, through a wildlife blind, you enjoy watching dozens of bobbing grey and harbor seals dotting the water amidst the many partially submerged boulders.

— Standing on the edge of the large, tree-edged pond, watching basking turtles and birds and dragonflies flitting over the surface.

-Birdwatching on the wooded trails and bluff tops to view songbirds, shorebirds, ospreys and other birds-of-prey, swallows, sea ducks and so many other species. Perhaps you’ll see a peregrine falcon zipping by during fall migration, sending flocks of shorebirds scurrying away as fast as their streamlined wings can take them.

— Strolling along the island’s eight miles of undisturbed coastline, with the beauty of eastern Long Island before you, offering distant views of Great Gull, Little Gull and Gardiner’s Islands, Montauk Point, and the Connecticut and Rhode Island coastlines.

— Lodging at the Plum Island lighthouse, converted into a Bed & Breakfast and enjoying a glass of wine as the sun sets over Plum Gut and Orient Point.

— Learning about the role Fort Terry played in protecting the United States and the port of New York as your explore the many parts of the fort — the barracks where soldiers stayed, the gun batteries that once housed the cannons angled skyward to repel a foreign attack.

— At the end of day, if you don’t stay over, taking the ferry back to the mainland of the North Fork, tired after many miles of hiking in the salt air of the East End stopping at a North Fork restaurant to share a chat among friends and family about what you’ve learned relating to this fascinating place.

This legislation has given Plum Island (based on the above perhaps we should call it Treasure Island!) a second chance and an opportunity for us to achieve this vision. But this law is only the first step. We need to take the vital second step of new ownership and management in the public interest if all of the above adventures are to become realities. We collectively need to tell those elected officials who represent us, and who can make a difference in determining the island’s fate, that we want Plum Island protected in perpetuity and the opportunity for its many wonders to become interwoven into the fabric of life on Long Island. 

Go to www.preserveplumisland.org to learn more about the Coalition, receive updates, and what you can do to help.

John Turner is the spokesperson for the Preserve Plum Island Coalition.

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For the first time, people could choose to complete the U.S. Census online, by phone, or by mail. Stock photo

By Iryna Shkurhan

The 2020 Census couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time. 

I was one of the half million people employed by the U.S. Census Bureau this year enlisted in the follow-up operation for non-respondents. When I applied to be an enumerator in Suffolk county in January, I couldn’t imagine that I would be going door to door in the midst of a pandemic. 

Iryna Shkurhan

When Census Day came April 1, enumerators were set to start visiting the homes of millions of non-respondents, but in person operations were postponed indefinitely as many states entered lockdowns. Around the same, the bureau formed an outreach and ad campaign to encourage Americans to respond online for the first time, or by phone or mail.

When drafting the Constitution, the nation’s founders mandated a count of the populace to be held every decade, starting in the 1790s, with the main goal of getting a count of every single person living in the United States. Included was questions on age, sex, race, relationship in the household and home ownership form data that paints a picture of who makes up the country. 

This information is crucial to determine congressional representation and allocating hundreds of billions in federal funding, for education, hospitals, roads and healthcare. The data that will directly affect the resources that communities across the country will receive for the next decade. For a government to represent people and fairly fund its programs, it has to know how many people there are and where they live, making the census initiative crucial for democracy. 

Enumerators typically work in their communities because their familiarity with the area helps in locating homes and also establishes trust and mutual understanding with respondents. Still, the questions are personal, and not everyone wants to share that information with a stranger. 

I always let people know that they had the option to refuse a question, if they were not comfortable answering. The question that mattered most was how many people lived in a household, which was used for the population count. The other questions had their own importance, but less so. 

I was issued a badge, a preprogrammed iPhone 8 and a messenger bag filled with various information sheets and a clipboard. In past decades the clipboard would’ve gotten more use. 

But this is the first year that the Census Bureau was collecting data digitally, allowing people to respond online, and enumerators to use mobile apps to record data. Enumerators no longer had to just record information with a pen and paper on their clipboards.

With the unpredictability of the pandemic, no one knew when and if in-person operations would continue, but in August I received a phone call asking if I would be willing to work for 4-8 weeks depending on when the count would be completed. I began working in the Stony Brook area less than ten minutes from my home. The number of cases I was assigned ranged from 20 to 70, depending on how many hours of availability I entered. Some days when I would work eight hours, I was assigned up to 80 nonresponse follow up cases. 

While on duty I imagined how different it must have been to be an enumerator ten years ago, before technology made the role much simpler. Now all I had to do was click on an assigned case and the GPS would direct me there. If a resident was home and willing to respond, the questions and answer options would pop up in the correct order on my screen. I never had to write anything more than a case number on paper. The apps on the issued iPhone were used to report for work, view assignments, track hours and mileage, and navigate to households.

The biggest challenge I ran into was a reluctance to answer. In the 20 hours of virtual training, I was taught the appropriate response for almost every type of reason a person is hesitant to share information, whether it’s privacy concerns, or distrust of the government. But many people were set in their decision and refused to cooperate, with many disputing my attempts at easing their fears and persuading them to cooperate. 

Enumerators also had a list of addresses to stay away from, which were marked as dangerous. These cases were marked with a caution sign on the map and signified that the resident was hostile, or violent in some way to an enumerator. In some cases, people were physically threatened and yelled at, and we were discouraged from attempting these homes alone. 

I witnessed a polar difference between the people who were happy to answer any questions and viewed it as a civic duty and those who avoided us at all costs and slammed the door in my face. I understood that people’s attitudes to their personal data was shifting, but living in a polarized county where the census became politicized didn’t help. With disinformation about the census floating around, explaining the purpose of the census, and the importance of each question, became a main part of my job. 

Another challenge was the technical difficulties that came with digital collection being implemented for the first time. Issues were bound to come up during the transition, but there were times where mid interview, the phone would crash, and I would have to restart all over. Other times my cases wouldn’t load, or I was sent to homes that were already visited by a dozen enumerators, with residents not hiding their annoyance. 

The sense of urgency was made apparent by higher ups as they offered incentives to work overtime and on weekends, when people were more likely to be home. Several bonuses were offered for working more than forty hours a week, and working Sundays and nights came with a higher pay rate. Initially, we had to request permission for overtime, but within a week that was scrapped. We were encouraged to work as much as possible to ensure everyone was counted. 

Once Setauket and neighboring regions were fully completed, I was sent out farther east to Riverhead, then farther to Orient and Mattituck. After the entirety of Suffolk County was counted, enumerators were offered to drive to other states, as far as Alabama to help complete the counting efforts there. 

One overnight shift was set aside to count the homeless population, which the pandemic made harder to account for. The Census was also forced to come up with new ways to count college students, who many towns depend on to get the adequate funding. 

In the few weeks I worked as an enumerator, there were difficult days but also rewarding ones. A certain satisfaction came with finally getting to interview a household that kept reappearing on my case list. With each case I closed, we came closer to reaching the goal. Little acts of kindness like some people offering to put their masks on, or a chair to sit on and a drink on a hot day, went a long way. 

Iryna Shkurhan is a junior at Stony Brook University majoring in political science, with a minor in journalism. She is an incoming editorial intern for TBR News Media.

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Park the Christmas Puppy

By Barbara Anne Kirshner

Author Barbara Anne Kirshner with her dog Park

Every December 21st, I pause in the midst of all the hectic Christmas preparations to hold my dachshund, Park, just a little closer and give thanks for the treasures he has brought since he joined our family on that fateful day 14 years ago.

How could I have known when we met, he would bring such companionship, love and countless gifts into my life?

Maybe if I had known, I would have scooped him up the minute I laid eyes on him instead of being so hesitant to add him to our little family.

It was September 2006 when my husband, Gregg, and our two dachshunds, Madison and Lexington, went for a walk in Port Jefferson and wound up in the local pet store. 

The girl behind the counter looked at our brood and said, “You’re dachshund people. There’s a little boy here who needs some attention.” And with that she reached into one of the cages behind the sales counter and brought out a little long-hair black and tan dachshund. As she rested him on the counter, he became the clown that this breed is known for and stood way up on hind legs. He kept that pose amidst oooohs and aaaahs from passersby. He certainly left a big impression, but having three dogs was something I never imagined. 

Once his little act ended, he was sent back to the cage behind the counter and we went home. 

That was but our first encounter with the boy.

Every time Gregg and I went into Port Jefferson, we’d stop at the pet store sure that the pup would be gone, but he remained in that cage — waiting.

As time went on, he was moved from the preferred placement at the front of the store to be that puppy in the window with a pal, a long hair red dachshund.

The next time I visited, the red doxie was gone, but the black and tan boy was now in a cage at the front of a long line of cages. That’s when things started to get pathetic for him.

A few weeks later, he had been moved to one of the middle cages in the long line. Finally, he was relegated to the very last cage at the back of the store.

Park the Christmas Puppy

On December 20, 2006, Gregg and I went to Port Jefferson curious to see if the boy was still there. We fantasized that a loving young couple came to the store, saw this was indeed a very special pup and he was gone.

When we got to the pet store, I couldn’t go inside. I told Gregg to go and come back with happy news that the pup had found his forever home.

I went into a nearby boutique trying to busy myself half looking at items, anxious for the update. 

Gregg rushed to me; alarm etched on his face. “Not only is he still there, but he looks despondent!” That was the word Gregg used:  “despondent.”

I rushed out of that boutique and into the pet store. I ran to the back of the store and sure enough, there he was with his face turned toward the wall.

I called, “Park! Park!” I had the name, an unusual name but perfect if he were to join the doxie pack of Madison and Lexington.

Upon hearing my voice, he looked over his shoulder and stared me down. His unspoken words screamed at me. “If you don’t get me out of this hell hole, don’t bother to come back!”

Gregg leaned over my shoulder and asked, “What should we do?”

I looked from Gregg back to that sad little pup who had been stuck behind those bars for the past four months and then I fled from that pet store.

Conflicting thoughts flooded in. It was December 20th, four days before Christmas Eve when we would host the family dinner followed by Christmas Day when we would be at my sister’s house. On top of the hectic Christmas schedule, I was opening in the New Year’s show at Arena Repertory. I still had to memorize the last remaining scenes.

And on top of that was the gnawing hesitation that I never had a male dog, only female dogs. This was a completely different world I knew nothing about. I was overwhelmed with worry thoughts.

We left Port Jefferson and the sad little pup behind. 

The next day was Monday, December 21st. I had to teach, but Gregg started his Christmas break. When I got home, I headed for my study complaining that I had to get those lines memorized.

But Gregg said, “You can’t do that right now.” I halted and looked at him.

He went on, “Well, I went back to Port Jefferson to the pet store and he was still there and well, now he’s ours. Merry Christmas — he’s your Christmas present!”

I looked around expecting the pup to come bounding out from another room. 

“He’s at the pet store being groomed right now. I wanted us to pick him up together like we did with Madison and Lexington. So, come on, let’s get your Christmas present. When we get home, you can go into your study to work and I’ll take care of the little guy,” Gregg reassured me. 

Conflicting feelings rushed in — excitement, anticipation, hesitation, worry and concern. How could I get everything done with a new pup under foot?

From left, Lexington, Melissa Tulip and Park Kirshner

We went to pick up the little man. He was ushered out from the grooming room, long black fur gleaming and a big, red Christmas bow bobbing around his neck.

Park was placed in my arms and from that day to this, he has never been far from my hugs and kisses. He is my Velcro boy, always there for me. When I’m sad, he licks my tears away. When I’m up in the middle of the night, I hear those now familiar footsteps approach from down the hall. He stays by my side watching over me until sleep returns. 

He is my travel companion. Wherever we go, people flock to him. Cars stop short to admire the precious boy. People have even called out, “That’s the most beautiful dog I’ve ever seen!”

I thank them, then shake my head and wonder how such a magnetic little man spent his early life behind bars, completely passed over by all who came in and out of that well-trafficked store.

When Christmas rolls around each year, I thank Gregg for the best Christmas present I ever got. His response is always the same, “I’ll never be able to top that gift, right?” 

Right!

Oh, and that Christmas Eve dinner 2006, it went smoothly with Park the hit of the party. AND I didn’t miss one line opening night of that New Year’s show.

Miller Place resident Barbara Anne Kirshner is a freelance journalist, playwright and author of “Madison Weatherbee —The Different Dachshund.”

 

All photos courtesy of Barbara Anne Kirshner

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