Darien1 0001 

yeah jerry!

Fine job. I can recall many of the places, I even worked at Palmers when that giant cheese was there.

As A Darien resident since 1987 these photos prompt many memories. Thank you. Very nicely done.

The Puritan is for the ages.

Grace: PERFECT! You really did a great job capturing some of the best parts of Darien. I enjoyed seeing Old McDonald's Farm, Chuck's Steak House, Ho-Jo's, Carvel, The Puritan (where I think I spend most of my disposable income from ages 6 - 12), and St. Lukes. The various beaches and parks really took me back in time too. I loved the shot of you fishing with your father. Priceless! And the music... well, that speaks for itself. Thanks for sharing.

A Short & Slightly Discombobulated Personal History of My Years in Noroton, by Whitney Robinson My family moved from NYC to Noroton in 1947. Dad bought a fixer-upper, 100+ year old, two-story house on the end of Pratt Is. #1 from Bill Pratt for $16,000! ratt thought Dad was crazy, because the house had no plumbing, heating or electricity. Dad spend the next two years making the house habitable while we lived (or should I say, camped) in it. We were up hill from our neighbors at the time, the Perkinsons and Schatvets. I'll never forget the '53 hurricane that flooded homes across Noroton Bay. We'd paddle up and down the street grid in rowboats to check out the damage. My friend, Chris Robison, lived on Pratt Is. #2, along with the Nashes, Pratts and a guy named Capt. Whitehead, a wonderful, blond-bearded Englishman who was front man for Schweppes Tonic water in the States. He'd commute to the city by right-hand drive Rolls Royce. I went to Hindley School at the end of Near Water Lane, past the imposing old oak trees and cast iron gates in front of what we called the nunnery. The islands were idyllic. We'd play and swim and boat all day in summer, and chase fire flies at night. Or, we'd sail out of Noroton harbor in Charlie Schatvet's 42-foot ketch named Lovely Lady and end up in Port Jeff or Eaton's Neck that evening. I remember one July 4th six of us went out to the end of the long pier at the beach club, where one of us lit up a harmless sparkler. Moments later, a cop showed up. Fireworks were forbidden, he said. We were stricken--life in prison, we feared. And to rub it in, he pulled out a pad and pencil and took down our names and ages: I'm so-and-so, I'm 7; I'm his brother, I'm 9; I'm his friend, I'm 6; I'm Clinky, I'm 4, etc. True story. Across from Charlie's dock lived the Drapers. They'd leave town in summer and rent their home to Lady Chiang Kai-shek. We'd shop at Palmer's for groceries and drink sodas at the old drug store across the square. After school, we'd cross the Post Rd and buy candy at Nick's corner store. My parents weren't religious, but thought I should be officially baptized. I was 2 or 3 at the time. Dad, not a believer in convention, asked Lawrence Horton (we called him Pete, if memory serves) of the Presbyterian Church to come by the house one evening and do the honors. Pete was very accommodating. While we waited, Dad mixed martinis in the kitchen. Somehow, I'd gotten a hold of an empty gin bottle and was playing with it when I heard a knock on the door.l I opened it, and not knowing quite what to do with the bottle, handed it to Pete, who graciously accepted. Dad and Pete stayed up late swapping jokes over drinks. No one's quite sure whether or not I was ever baptized. There's much more, but I've gone on long enough. I couldn't have had a better childhood. We stayed for ten years and were heartbroken to leave. Things change. These days, I'd probably need an invitation to get back on the islands. You lucky people...

My childhood home is in this! So is my brother Ed's sixth grade Baker photo.

i live in darien and spend most of my summer down by the puritan and mama carmelas. i live right near that area on noroton avenue