A Week in East Hampton

Although I did make it to Long Island one day last week, my hometown is not in "the Hamptons" but instead East Hampton, Connecticut.

My hometown is a typical New England colonial town. We had a population of 12,000 when I was growing up (I think it's grown to 14,000 now), and there were about 116 who graduated with me from high school. East Hampton is about 90% white and mostly Christian, where even those who don't practice a religion or consider themselves religious generally still celebrate Christmas and Easter. It is also a typical small Connecticut town in the way that it seems like everyone knows everyone else and everything about everyone else. For example, I have been going to the same nail salon for the past 4 years with my mom. When I walked in Friday morning, the owner ran over, gave me a big hug, asked how my mom is and how my first year of law school went before filling me in on her daughter's first year of college. It's nice to have this familiarity when I go home, but it's also starkly contrasted with experiences I have in Boston.

Another hometown feel that I only experience in East Hampton is a strong sense of identity and community. We are known for very few things, so it was a little exciting when the valedictorian in my graduating class mentioned that Sports Illustrated once featured our high school for having a completely unique mascot- we are the Bellringers. I know it sounds ridiculous. Half of our cheerleading cheers were for the "Easties" because it was easier to rhyme and easier to say. If you can imagine this (because I couldn't even find a picture online), our mascot costume was this guy dressed in colonial attire (aka George Washington) with this giant mascot head, wearing a colonial 3 point hat and huge red boxing gloves. In one glove he holds a large brass bell. At most important sporting events, a student, usually a guy who was good at gymnastics, would run around with the mascot suit on, and then take the gloves off and do handsprings and back flips all around the basketball court or track or soccer field.

Again, I know this sounds crazy so I have to explain further. Our mascot is a bellringer because East Hampton is known as "Belltown." We used to be the bell-making capital of the world, and up until a week and a half ago, we were home to the only factory in America left to make just bells. Bevin Bell Factory has been making bells in East Hampton since 1808. Recently, the company made the bell in "It's a Wonderful Life" that rings when the angel gets its wings, all of the jingle bells for President Clinton's inauguration, and most of the jingle bells used in the states every Christmas season. In addition, it manufactures all of the Salvation Army bells every year that the workers ring outside on the streets as they collect donations.

Unfortunately, all of that went up in smoke last Saturday evening. As my parents and I were driving home from Boston, a huge thunderstorm hit East Hampton with about 200 lightning strikes in a 5 sq mile area. It had passed by the time we got back, but since we had spent the day in Boston it was late and my parents went to bed somewhat early. I stayed up reading and surfing the Internet, and around 1:30am I began to see strange Facebook statuses from other East Hampton friends regarding the bell factory. More precisely, the statuses said it was on fire and all the houses near it had been evacuated. My parents' house is on a hill about a mile from the center of town where the factory was, so I looked out my bedroom window and not only saw smoke but actual flames rising above the trees. When such a historic building goes up in smoke, it is a historic event, so I woke up my parents up so that we could all look at the flames over the trees (not much happens in East Hampton, so we grasp onto whatever excitement we can get). However, this was not enough for my dad, who convinced me to take a car ride with him toward the fire to check it out. We should have known we wouldn't be able to get anywhere near it, and it turned out the best view was from our upstairs windows at home.

This was pretty much all anyone could talk about the next day, and the whole week I was home, in conversations where people would usually comment on the weather or ask how school or a job was going, everyone instead was theorizing about the fire: what started it (lightning or arson?), whether Mr. Bevin would rebuild, what would happen to all the employees in the mean time, and who would provide bells for the USA this year.

I love living in Boston and I'm so glad I moved here and am committed to establishing my life here, but while the small-town feel that boarders on nosiness can sometimes get overwhelming in East Hampton, I will always love the strong sense of community and will always be impressed how my hometown comes together when we need to in times like these. I can't imagine finding that same togetherness anywhere else.