Ethel Lee-Miller, a fellow Lincoln Park resident, recently mailed me an article she had written for RealMorris.com. She thought that as a local Lincoln Park real estate professional at Century 21 Crest Real Estate, I would be able to share the article with others. Ethel Lee-Miller is the author of "Thinking of Miller Place, A Memoir of Summer Comfort," in which Ethel reflects on childhood summers in Long Island. I have not yet had the pleasure of reading this book, but I will take a ride to the Lincoln Park Library and get a copy. Ethel gave me her permission to share her article with all of you. Below is the article from the Parting Thoughts section of RealMorris.com, I added the appropriate web links for you...Enjoy!
I guess I'm not a New York City girl after all
The first time I saw the "Lincoln Park-5th Best Town in NJ" banner festooned across Route 202, I was struck by the fact that this was the town where I actually lived.
Let me explain. Post college, I was a reverse commuter. I taught in New Jersey and maintained a fierce loyalty to residing in Manhattan, where I frequented 24-hour delis, museums and a ding, but authentic dance studio that mixed Broadway dancers and wannabes like me. I was hip, I was cool. If I wanted nature, I walked over to Riverside Park, or rode up to the Bronx Zoo. I worked in the ‘burbs, but New York City was where it was at.
After circumstances led me to move to New Jersey, I promised myself, "Two years and that's it. I'll be back in New York."
Two years became five, then 10. Lewis Morris Park, Acorn Hall, and Schooley's Mountain replaced city parks and museums. Upon retiring from an almost 30- year teaching career, I saw myself unfettered and free to move back to the city.
Yet, here I am, contentedly living in Morris County. My husband and I lounge on the patio on summer nights, listen to the crickets, and watch fireflies dance in densely packed clusters above the bushes. Oldies Night at the town lake attracts clusters of residents in much the same way.
The huge old oaks and evergreens in the back of my condo are a virtual delight, lush green in spring, a swirl or oranges, golds and browns in autumn, and a silent white world on a snowy day in November. Neighborhoods are split by narrow strips of woods along what used to be the Morris Canal, providing a habitat for groundhogs, rabbits, deer, and wild turkey along with songbirds I can't name but can appreciate.
My last sighting of a bear was not at a zoo but ambling in the woods behind my house. Granted it was a cub, although when I described it to the police dispatcher, "it was huge." Within minutes of my call, a calm, young officer was at my door. It appeared local residents had been helping chart the bear's movement in town via telephone calls ranging from frantic to amused.
The lure of small towns in Morris County is often grand, like the heritage of Fosterfields, which is rich in hands-on history. But Lincoln Park won my affection with a simple phone call the first year we lived here. The recreation director left a message: "Found your watch in the PAL building. Stop by any time. I'm always here."
Nothing furthers a sense of belonging more than when you have to ask for help. Our chance came when a lock system around the tennis court fences worked in reverse and locked us in as we entered the courts.
" Call the police on your cell," was my husband's suggestion. Blank look from me. "You always have your cell phone with you." Hope dwindled in his voice, "Don't you?"
The only way out seemed up and over. I retreated back to the ground when I realized I was frozen with fear at the thought of actually going up and over the fence. My hero easily scaled it to jog over to the police station. Not content to wait for rescue, I was slithering my way under a gap in the fence when the cop arrived. He only smiled and stretched out a hand to pull me up.
We do our bit for the environment by walking to the library and tennis courts in the center of town. Just as I was starting to grumble that the tennis courts were crumbling, bulldozers moved in and leveled them. The weekly e-mail from our mayor revealed an anonymous donor had provided money for revamping the tennis courts. Is this Camelot, or what?
Looking to fill my Broadway dance yearnings, I Googled to find a convenient place to renew my tentative venture into tap dancing. Dance Place Plus offers adult tap with a mix of traditional, funk and syncopated rhythms. An it's a 10 minute walk, door to start-studded door. I stroll by ShopRite as part of my morning walk. If I've forgotten anything, it's two minutes away by car. We have a lifestyle that does include regular trips into New York. It is, after all, a two-way tunnel. But "out here" is home. Besides, I'm not up very late these days so if ShopRite is only open till 10 p.m. that's more than good enough for me.
Thanks, Ethel, for letting everyone know why Lincoln Park is such a great place to live!
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