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Magical Moments of Youth
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Magical Moments of Youth

I'm a little younger than others who have posted here, but Woodmont, CT is in my soul. My grandparents, Leon and Rita Shermet, owned a summer house in Woodmont. I don't remember the exact street, but I know if I went out the front porch and turned right, it led me about 4 blocks to the beach. The house was my sanctuary, my safe place, and holds the most magical moments of my youth. I believe that my grandparents moved there somewhere around 1960. It was an enclave of many of our Jewish family and friends. When I was 5 my mother died and shortly thereafter my father remarried and we would go there on the weekends to spend time with "Bubby" and Grandpa. It was the first place that I was allowed to roam freely - usually from 6 am until it was dark - because I knew someone or was related to someone on almost every block. My cousins' grandmother, Molly Kampner, was a baker who on Wednesdays would make sticky buns. All of us kids (a group of about 5-10, depending on the week) would sit on her porch and wait for her to bring them out on a tray with a pitcher of milk. Talk about heaven - I've never tasted any as good. I remember the fields of gladiolas that we would pass and the stands where we got some for my grandmother. I also remember the farms with fresh vegetables and fruit that we would give to my grandmother for meals. Most of all I remember how simple life was. Swimming, riding my bike, hanging out on the porch at night listening to my grandparents and parents playing bridge. I remember my little room upstairs with the "It's a Small World" curtains and pink rosebud silk comforter that was always so cool after a hot day at the beach. I remember the little grocery store by the beach (but unfortunately not the name of it) where my brother and I would buy popsicles. I also remember having my first kiss by the breakfront at the beach and being so scared of it I ran home and refused to leave the cottage all day! It was my retreat from the city (NY) and I loved every moment there. Sometimes, my grandmother would leave us the cottage for a few weeks so we would get enrolled at summer camp in Milford. If anyone remembers my family I would love to hear from you.

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