Echoes of the ’70s in a Changed Sag Harbor

As the village of Sag Harbor, N.Y., sought fitfully in the 1970s to renew itself, two young men from west of the Shinnecock Canal–a symbolic divide in the Hamptons real-estate game, which is mostly to the east–came to play notable roles. One was Ted Conklin, who purchased the American Hotel on Main Street—a hostelry and meeting place that, like the village itself, had seen livelier days. The other was Patrick Malloy, a sailing enthusiast who was to transform marinas and dockside real estate.

Both aging men today are said to be not up for much travel to New York, preferring instead their Florida locales. (Conklin was honored with a streamed caroling tribute on a chilly Dec. 15 from the front of his landmark establishment.) But the Sag Harbor of today, a sought-after if self-consciously class-free community of a few thousand fulltime residents, would not have attained liftoff in more recent decades if not for what they got going a half century ago.

Sag Harbor has been a place in love with its history, including whaling and manufacturing periods, that distinguishes it from the rest of the Hamptons. Architectural touches continue to be celebrated, including its landmark film theater, and literati and the arts have been attracted for decades to a place that John Steinbeck made his later home and where a black summer set sustained its own neighborhood.

The iconic movie house, restored after a fire.
Ted Conklin’s place, dressed up.

The factory heyday had come and gone by the 1950s. The Long Island Rail Road tracks to the west had been ripped out by then, the greatly immigrant workforce, for whose children Mrs. Russell Sage had helped build a library, were finding other livelihoods. But a tight community lived on.

Despite frequently expressed nostalgia for grittier and more insular days of the 1960s into the mid-‘70s, however, reports from that period show discontent with a bar-laden, sluggish village that needed rebirth. One result was a decision—soon widely regretted—to locate a sewage plant near the main waterfront in 1975, replacing old gas tanks, in the hopes it could enable new industry.  Also that year the village restarted its Whalers Festival, discontinued a few years earlier as “honky-tonk” but today part of what is a big effort to lure visitors. Some businesspeople planted a sign on Route 27—the coastal road through the beach spots that were by then taking off again as seasonal retreats—flagging the Sag Harbor turn to those unaware.

This corner of the Hamptons didn’t have the legacy of a wealthy summer crowd that had populated the oceanfront villages. “There wasn’t much old money,” recalls Bethany Deyermond, a lifelong Sag Harbor resident whose husband, Ed, was mayor in the early 2000s and a longtime village trustee. Instead “the Harbor” had traditional heartland cogs—the American Legion, a core Catholic church, the fire department. A dairy farm operated into the 1970s, while some of the old factory families remained.

It was about that time that Conklin, from a New York City brass-making family that had summered in Westhampton, was taking ownership of the hotel and Malloy, a Wall Streeter cum developer with a place in Hampton Bays, was sailing into a decrepit boatyard a few blocks away looking for repairs.  Both would spend decades building complementary pillars of a new Sag Harbor, anchored to a resort economy that in turn attracted high-end residences.  Conklin’s upgraded hospitality mirrored the marinas that Malloy built for big pleasure craft, including at Long Wharf where Main Street ends.  There, he notably restored a small Grumman aerospace plant into a multi-use site that came to house the local cultural hub, the Bay Street Theater.  The wharf itself had sunk into disuse–by the late 1980s the village partnered with Suffolk County to restore it, ultimately regaining full control in 2012.

An aerospace plant and adjacent site became core to Patrick Malloy’s plans.
Malloy’s redevelopment would house a cultural mainstay.
The watch-case factory would become condos…after decades of wrangling.

The changes, particularly the appeal to a more cosmopolitan crowd, were welcomed by some Harborites.“Smart people found this place cute, cozy and not pretentious,” recalls Nada Barry, who in her 90s still owns a village gift shop with her daughter. Barry with her late husband were pioneers of post-war Sag Harbor, preceding Conklin and Malloy. Their onetime chef at the former Baron’s Cove, a gathering spot from the old days, was Jack Tagliasacchi, who created the Il Capuccino restaurant, a mainstay for locals. (He also repairs to Florida for much of the year.)

Not all went down well for the new guys. Some old-timers were put off when the moneyed set ultimately came to favor the American’s dining in high season. Yachtsman Malloy, meanwhile, met with increasing resistance to later projects and litigated against the village government. He was involved for 22 years in an effort to rehab a watch-case factory in the village core, last operated by Bulova, into pricey condominiums. The project was completed by 2015 after he had sold his interest. (Malloy’s developments on the South Fork weren’t limited to Sag Harbor. In one of his last, he and a partner were allowed to turn pine barrens in rustic East Quogue into a subdivision that was marketed as Hamptons affordable at the century’s end. A golf course at the site was quashed.)

To be sure, Conklin and Malloy were not alone in seeing Sag Harbor through a transformative period. Tagliasacchi’s place, run by his daughter, endures. John Ward, for 24 years a village trustee and ultimately mayor, also bridged the period from industry to tourism, with infrastructure projects to underlay development. A blue-collar sort, “Johnny” anticipated the change he witnessed up to his death at 90 in 2012. In the meanwhile, little things meant a lot, such as the opening of the Provisions market-cafe for a Baby Boomer cohort taking up root.

Such undertakings by themselves did not solve Sag Harbor’s economic puzzle.  It continued to lag its storied neighbors in buzz through the Millennial boom.  But that lack of status would seed its future. A quality housing stock going back decades had not kept up with Hamptons property prices. When a series of outside shocks—the 9/11 attacks on New York City, the financial crisis of 2008 and the Covid pandemic of 2020—jarred a new generation of homebuyers to come looking for East End quarters, many were attracted to what Sag Harbor had been and was becoming.

A new era was dawning when a natural-foods store opened in 1987.
But ‘unHamptons’ sentiments endure, just like Otter Pond at the village gateway.

Today the village is socioeconomically indistinct from the rest of the Hamptons. It has a bit more year-around character but plenty of precious boutiques. The Church (restored, Methodist from 1835) is a notable art center. A gourmet cheese shop will outfit your picnic for a cool hundred bucks, easily. Parking for Main St. in the summers will cost you a little, too. And once-pastoral North Haven, across a bridge to the north, has plenty of lavish estates of the sort that Pat Malloy took up there in his prime.

As 2026 dawns, Sag Harbor’s story is both old and new. Fractious village politics have quieted a bit but late this year another election cycle will begin. Proposed redevelopment near the wharf area—in a commercial area that hasn’t yet reflected the boom—continues to be contentious. Preservationists are also focused on the loss of old trees as builders march through the residential neighborhoods. Each venerable business (or newer one) that closes on or near Main Street is mourned by locals as a victim of high rents, and a sign that higher tabs are coming for the wealthy set that keeps moving in.

But then the Sag Harbor Historical Museum has just raised funds to construct an archives wing that will safeguard the effects of its early artist patron whose daughter was another civic leader in the period discussed here. And if there’s a parade or music fest or notable school function, the salts of the earth appear, trying still to be unHampton-like. Or at least the post-1970s version of it. –Jan. 16, 2026

Addendum: Ted Conklin died at age 77 on Feb. 1, 2026.

‘Poor’ Greenport Wants Slice of a Preservation Bounty

Land prices have ballooned on the North Fork of Long Island, particularly since the Covid pandemic, adding to fears of “Hamptonization.” And these are felt in Greenport Village, long established as a fishing and boating burgh and in recent years as a foodie haven amid the fork’s surrounding farm and vineyard culture. (It’s also the ferry landing for trips to Shelter Island and on to the ritzy South Fork.) Greenport’s politics increasingly have revolved around anti-development stances to maintain the small-town feel. At the same time, however, Greenport is pleading poverty of a sort in seeking to gain a share of the funds Suffolk township (in which it sits) gets from the Community Preservation Fund–the massive kitty derived from a tax on residential transactions on Long Island’s East End. The CPF is mostly used to preserve open spaces but also has a water-quality mandate, and Greenport wants a chunk of the Southold share in order to rehabilitate septic and other facilities in old shore neighborhoods (while it draws on a separate fund for housing itself). An interesting twist is that, in making this demand, Greenport can cite its qualification as a New York State “Disadvantaged Community” as defined by the Climate Justice Working Group in 2023. Being (relatively) poor amid the splendor of eastern Long Island gets you a 10% meal ticket at the preservation buffet. Any morsel in a storm! –Jan. 3, 2026

Greenport Continues to Push Southold For CPF Funding

Shinnecocks vs. Southampton and the Road Most Traveled

Continued legal strife between the Long Island, N.Y. town of Southampton and the Shinnecock tribal nation this week brought a key piece of South Fork land-use history into the picture. No–not the original “treaties” by which white settlers laid claim to their now-rich foothold on the Atlantic Ocean, but a more recent land seizure. This Newsday article explains the Shinnecock’s contention that New York State put the high-speed Sunrise Highway through a portion of tribal land beginning in 1959 without compensation. That land, in the hamlet of Hampton Bays, is called Westwoods and is the site of Shinnecock developments that the town and state are trying to regulate. It is a Peconic Bay-front property separated from the main “reservation” on Shinnecock Bay facing the ocean. The eastward extension of the Sunrise expressway, completed with other key road projects in the 1960s, is what made weekend trips from New York City feasible–and opened up the Hamptons to the wealth tide that followed in succeeding decades. The latest Shinnecock lawsuit alleges that the state illegally obtained an easement for the road, serving notice only to a tribal trustee “up island” in Babylon with no receipt signature or payment. This, in turn, may bring a review of what consisted of the Shinnecocks (who only later became a federally recognized nation) in Southampton at the time–aerial photos from 1960 show their Shinnecock Bay holding to be barely populated. Like much of the Hamptons story of the last 65 years, this is a tale of what might have unfolded so differently.

https://www.newsday.com/long-island/politics/shinnecock-sunrise-highway-lawsuit-mgewzjjv

Sag Harbor’s Re-Emergence, in One Address

This weekend’s New York Times real-estate section has a nicely turned encapsulation of changes in the village of Sag Harbor, N.Y., over the last four decades. It’s told through the ownership of one of the formerly modest homes from the “UnHamptons” village’s industrial past–houses that now sell or rent for a fortune in Sag Harbor’s precious present. Except for the extraordinary attention paid to historic preservation there, the village is no longer as distinct from the rest of the Hamptons. But the story of its transformation actually goes back further than the 1987 start of the NY Times’ tale. From at least the 1970s, Sag Harbor was trying to reawaken what had once been a bustling core economy. It never wanted to be like the Hamptons hamlets that took off around it, but in the end it couldn’t escape that. More on this saga in a future post!

Political Upheaval on the Southampton Shores

Amid the national “blue wave” at the polls Tuesday, engaged Southampton Town Democrats scored another triumph, most notably in sweeping five trustee seats, traditionally a Republican redoubt in much of New York’s Long Island.

Town trustees manage the various (and many) waterfronts, including both salt and fresh-water ponds (aka lakes). They are distinct from the town councils that handle inland affairs. As wealth-bred development continues to press up against these shorelines, the political quiet that has long surrounded trustee positions may grow louder. A hint of this comes from a recent Newsday article on controversy over private docks extending into precarious public waters in Southold town on the island’s North Fork. (Democrats also won all the trustee spots there on Nov.4 and the Southold town board subsequently okayed new restrictions as described in this East End Beacon article.)

Typically, campaigners for trustee posts mouth platitudes about protecting both the waters and public access to them. (By this latter pledge they sometimes mean the latitude to drive trucks onto sandy beaches, a cherished right among some locals.) Media outlets, to the degree they cover trustee races, simply summarize the candidates’ backgrounds and expressed sentiments. What’s more, they rarely cover the regular trustee meetings.

At the same time, environmental groups that might have special interest in trustee affairs have also taken an official pass. The Group for the East End, the most notable such outfit in that stretch of Long Island, does not question or score the trustee hopefuls. Even the New York League of Conservation Voters, which doesn’t shy away from endorsements for even local offices (virtually always Democrats), is silent about trustees at its site–and didn’t respond to an email query.

In this information vacuum, a party organization can play an outsized role, and Southampton Democrats did so with mass road signage and other voter outreach. They succeeded in ousting three Republicans who are community fixtures, and re-electing two of their own incumbents, giving them complete board control.

This was thus a watershed election (so to speak), much like the one in East Hampton Town in 2015, when Democrats finally won a majority on the trustees board. They have never given it up, and in a town they increasingly dominate, the party again on Tuesday won all the trustee posts.

As Southampton Town gradually loses its own competitive Republican base, the trustees may take on a more activist bent. Whereas in the past they were content to issue permits for the fishing, boating and hunting activity of the town freeholders, while maintaining the shorelines, the Southold situation may herald wider concerns over pools, extended structures and wetlands vegetation. These could intersect with the ambitions of expensive waterfront property owners.

Additionally, the new trustee board might be more aggressive in securing public (non-truck) access to those waters. For example, the Southampton trustees for two decades have husbanded about $200,000 intended for use on 54 acres along Peconic Bay-adjacent Cold Spring Pond. The land and funds were obtained when the Sebonack golf club was developed nearby, but no trail or other formal opening-up of the picturesque site has followed.

Perhaps, as in Southold, more attention on the trustees will proceed from the political upheaval that has reached the shores of Southampton.

Gridiron Riches Aren’t for Everybody on Saturdays

The “college” football season is in high gear, with ever bigger dollars flowing through what is actually a business. As a result–and also to raise their profile in attracting more students and fans–ever more schools are joining the bigtime (expensive) competition. Paradoxically, this is occurring even as participation rates in high-school football have declined noticeably over the past two decades.

First, the explosive growth: Boosters at the National Football Foundation point to a roughly 40% growth in the number of schools playing NCAA-level football since 1978. Although attendance at games has been flat over the last 20 years, the revenue from cable, broadcast and other video has risen enormously. It’s common to find 20 or more national game “feeds” on a Saturday, and an increasing selection on other nights. Recently, the number of “power” conferences has consolidated to four, but most remaining leagues enjoy greater exposure as well. Adding to the alumni loyalty factor as a draw for even non-marquee games is the mass legalization of sports betting, which engenders interest of a sort in any contest.

The result is an escalating spectacle aspect to the performances, culminating in the College Football Playoff among the top programs. Meantime, many players are now paid handsomely through the Name-Image-Likeness provisions to which the schools agreed under legal duress. And the coaches and other staff come at an increasing cost as well–into the tens of millions of dollars, even as they are (more often) fired for insufficient wins.

It’s as if America is a football-mad society, forgetting even the professional wing of the sport. That may be true from a spectating standpoint, but in fact fewer young males want to play the game. According to the National Federation of State High School Associations, the total of boys in 11-player football (meaning full-contact tackle) dropped by 106,000 between 2008 and 2018–nearly 10%. It has then risen by 23,500 by 2024, the last datum available. Overall school enrollment has been basically steady over the period.

We can’t know why the falloff, but during this time the risks of CTE brain injuries from concussions received wide publicity (and increasing liability litigation). Equipment advances have been made to counter this and other types of injuries, along with rule changes, but at the same time player techniques and physiques have heightened the potential for harm. More boys and their parents have opted to take a pass.

Which boys? Here the numbers get fuzzier, but most reporting on the topic points to more affluent white families and to the Pacific Coast and Northeast regions of the country. These dropoffs have been mitigated by greater Hispanic participation, although that may simply reflect population gains in that sector. (At the major-college level, there’s a perceptible rise in international imports on some rosters, nearly tripling between 2012 and 2023 for NCAA Division 1, although in all they’re accounting for only 1%.)

So, you’d be excused if you saw a parallel here to the “two Americas” when it comes to waging military might: the cheerleaders for saber rattling and the young who actually do the fighting. Sure, in this case the battling has a potential payoff–commercialization of college sports has made football lucrative all the way down the line. But there’s apparently a limit to who will volunteer to wear the uniform.

Hamptons Builders Face Less Room for Outsizing

Today’s Newsday catches up with East Hampton township’s reductions in just how large houses there can be built. This issue has gathered on the East End of Long Island, N.Y., in recent years as “mansionization” is blamed for changing the characters of neighborhoods–both visually and demographically–and for quickening the rise in land and thus home prices. East Hampton–which includes hamlets such as Montauk, Amagansett and Springs–has long been tougher on developers than other nearby towns. So, its adoption of a modified tightening ordinance was not out of character, though builders and some property owners are complaining that the new strictures will limit not just big “spec” construction for high-end seasonal use (the primary target) but the enlargement of smaller homes with growing families. This debate should soon spread to neighboring Southampton town, which has been seen as more lax in its development controls. The prospect of a revised general plan there–tied to traffic that stems from trade vehicles serving expensive properties–is vaguely at issue in a town board election on Nov. 4.

https://www.newsday.com/long-island/towns/east-hampton-new-house-size-rules-k116em89

Is Southampton Using Permits to Weed Out Commerce?

It’s common among preservationists on the East End of Long Island, N.Y., to regard the town of Southampton as lax in its allowance of development and other commercial concerns. There’s some basis* for that, especially in contrast to the town of East Hampton, but just as much reason to see dilatoriness in getting projects approved when time is definitely money. A recent example is the extended consideration of marijuana dispensaries. Because these are supposed to be fast-tracked under a New York state law, Southampton officials are being brought to account, and this week they were ruled against, as noted in the local Press. (In court in a different case, the town has fared better.) Now, there’s a political backdrop to this situation that puts it beyond the usual zoning and permitting processes: Under the state law, towns could “opt-out” of the weed-selling allowance, which some of Southampton’s neighbors did. But, led by its former supervisor, Jay Schneiderman, the town board chose to allow the shops, subject to siting limitations. Schneiderman said he worried about losing tax revenue by opting-out, especially given that dope can be sold regardless on the self-ruled Shinnecock tribal land within the town. In the event, a flurry of dispensary applications was received, and sentiment in Southampton (as well as the composition of the board) has changed. State law prevents an opt-in town from changing its mind, however, so an alternative is to slow-walk site approvals, perhaps mindful that delay could effectively mean denial to a startup business with mounting bills. That is what pot-shop enthusiasts say is happening (here’s the latest lawsuit against the town, over an abandoned Hampton Bays site). On the other side, opponents surely will give the officials grief over any dispensaries that do open. Much in the way, you might say, other groundbreakings in the far-from-chill Hamptons evoke cries of laxity.

https://www.27east.com/southampton-press/new-york-state-poised-to-strike-down-southampton-site-plan-review-of-cannabis-stores-2399286/

* At board meetings in town there can be a seeming chumminess toward developers’ agents, though this can stem from past relationships. Many of these hired guns are former town officials themselves.

When YIMBY Comes to a Southampton Hamlet

Providing “affordable housing” in the midst of a price surge on the East End of Long Island, N.Y., is challenging enough—but the additional political wrinkles that come with each specific project were on display this month at a community-board meeting in the North Sea hamlet of Southampton town. It took place not far from where the first English colonists landed in the area in 1640.

The session was held to air (again) reactions to a proposed 34-unit rental project on a wooded lot that had been assigned 5-acre minimum residential zoning. Such a classification is the result of past efforts to contain “overbuilding” in the town from smaller lots—this was before expense became such a consuming barrier.

North Sea sports much bay waterfront, with occasionally splendid homes and seasonal or weekend gentry, but most of it is populated with fulltime residents in more modest domiciles built decades ago. Back then, they could enjoy a wooded or small-dock retreat, removed from the Hamptons summer crowd along the ocean. Now they’re more likely to feel pinched by crowding around them and pass-through traffic much of the year.

So the more outspoken residents there tend to have a chip on their shoulders about how the area is treated, compared to the grander parts of town. For instance, North Sea was relegated to hosting the town dump in generations past—it’s now a recycling center and landfill up the street from the planned apartments. And when it comes to heightened efforts to develop wage-earner housing in Southampton, some at this month’s meeting reiterated complaints that too many such projects are being “steered” into North Sea. A 50-unit condominium not far away from the one at issue was put through in 2005, and other neighboring lots are possibilities for more. This, in what is still a rural-seeming stretch, as the above photo of the 8.6-acre site under discussion shows.

The economics of construction costs and land prices usually demand attached, multifamily buildings to achieve affordability. But this is not what many existing homeowners want. Stephanie McNamara, who chairs the community council that hosted the meeting, explicitly prefers half-acre, single-family plots—the way it used to be in North Sea. (You won’t find many such properties at under a million dollars now.) So far, her group has won concessions in that direction from the town’s housing administrators on a few subsidized developments.

But the “Epley” project (so called after the prominent Southampton family member proposing it) is more attuned to market pricing—and dense.  Because it wouldn’t take government grants, said supportive town councilman Bill Pell at the meeting, it could limit tenancy to participants in the local workforce. This is a popular notion—versus the idea of unselective “affordable” units going to undesired outsiders or opportunistic part-timers. The Epley rents, though, reportedly would begin at $2,500 a month, which prompted skepticism about who in that workforce could cover that.  “Would you want it to be less?” a supporter fired back.

The 40-some attendees (an unusually large turnout for the monthly gatherings) heard from two elderly volunteers for the North Sea fire and EMS services that a dearth of younger nearby recruits—who can’t find starter residences—means untimely responses when those longtime homeowners may call for help.  (North Sea, like many parts of Long Island’s East End, relies on volunteers for some emergency services.)

So the evening went, back and forth.  “A pig is still a pig!” even with the lipstick of local preference, one voice sounded. Road dangers and water pollution also figured in the opposition’s arguments. A minority joined Pell in emphasizing the unmet housing demand. Soon he and the rest of the five-member town board will have to decide on the change of zoning for the Epleys to proceed. If that goes through, hearings will follow to fine-tune the development, likely shaving the unit total and surely adding costs. Maybe it would then still pencil out and get built.

The YIMBY movement—Yes In My Back Yard—to erect more housing in America’s cities and towns has scored recent gains, particularly at the state legislative levels, where localized resistance is less dominant and the cries of a financially-stressed young population are heard. But at the ballot box, discontent is felt from an older set who have seen their familiar settings already disturbed by economic upheaval—from both wealth and poverty.  New York’s governor Kathy Hochul, a Democrat, entered office with a forceful housing initiative but backed away as the suburbs rose up against her party. (A substitute initiative hasn’t satisfied everyone, either.)

If all politics are local, as the saying goes, it’s worth tracking the course of YIMBY in North Sea. –Sept. 29, 2025

Asking for Relief to Hellish Hamptons Street Traffic

The traffic snarl and its side effects on the South Fork of Long Island have been a longstanding but worsening problem. Various efforts have been mulled or tried to alleviate it, though few would revisit the fateful decision a half century ago not to build a bypass to the sole east-west highway–which is often clogged. To deal with the acute issue of trade and other vehicles seeking to conjure such a bypass by using residential roads, the trick is to find a measure that would deter such maneuvers but doesn’t rely on town police enforcement, which is sparse. I’m focused on putting “humps” in the roads, thus forcing drivers to slow down or choose a different, smoother route (the highway). They’ve been employed in three independent villages within the town of Southampton, including Sag Harbor. Presumably, a lot of pass-through trips*, particularly those made by heavy-duty commercial trucks, would get re-thought. So I framed the matter as a ripe political choice for this November’s election, in the following short letter appearing today in the Southampton Press:

https://www.27east.com/southampton-press/deciding-issue-2396411/

*It’s estimated that as much as half the peak traffic through Southampton in most months is destined for sites east or west of the town.