My childhood memories of Oyster Bay are so clear. My parents would pack us up, along with the kitchen sink. Seriously! They took everything imaginable with them, and if they didn’t have an item it could easily be borrowed from a family friend that we would join up with at the bay. See, everyone we knew would be at Long Island’s, Oyster Bay.
Our Long Island, Oyster Bay day was a natural event. It happened religiously every Sunday over the summer. Our beach days were always filled with lots of food – like trays of baked macaroni – lots of neighborhood friends – gathered to escape the hot city. I hated it when the rain would prevent us from heading out to the bay. Honestly, I do not have a single bad memory of our Oyster Bay days. The day was long – would start as early as 6 am – to get to the beach by 7 – never end before the sun began to set – LONG DAY!
Funny, as an adult, and a parent, Oyster Bay just was never something we did. Have no idea why. I guess it’s one of those things that just happen. Shrug! It took out–of-towners to get me to revisit Oyster Bay. And after almost 50 years the bay area certainly did change. For one thing it did not appear as large, looking through adult eyes, and it has certainly become very POSHY!
Here Carol, John and Billy stand with the bay as a back drop. Notice all the sail boats anchored out in the bay. Never saw one sail boat in the bay. When you looked out you would see nothing but sea.
Somethings do change. And it was very apparent that Oyster Bay changed. It now was not a place to bring your whole family, along with the kitchen sink, to spend a beach day with your neighborhood friends. 🙁
But, as we were strolling Oyster Bay, lo and behold, we stumbled on a very good friend. OMG! There she was, just sitting on the sandy beach, absorbing the beautiful day the Lord had made. It was my long time friend, Lisa. Coincidence? Not! I do not believe in coincidences. I would like to believe that my friend was there to show me that Oyster Bay may have changed, but the essence of the bay still provides that sense of connection. 
The wall of the bay. I can remember playing by this wall to get away from the all seeing parents.
It was deja vue! I bet I can find old photos of me, and my friends, reclining on this Oyster Bay wall. 
My husband has never been to Oyster Bay. Now he had the pleasure of visiting the bay that I spent most of my childhood in. Of course, he could never understand how my parents just packed us up to spend 12 hours of the day at the beach! I understand, now, that a day at Oyster Bay was a way to get out of the big city (NYC). My family, and their friends, were from the island of Malta, so spending a day by the beach was a no-brainier. Oh, how the tides have changed!