For months I couldn’t get the image out of my mind of me and my brother being buried alive. When, I wondered, would they find us? How would they know where to look? I guess my brother’s feet would have been the only sign that we were there, buried under all that sand.
Years later, I married and moved toLong Island. When my children were old enough I took them to Gilgo and told them the story. GilgoBeachis very different now. There are more houses onOcean Parkwayand more beachgoers. And of course, there are the surf fishermen. I still shun the beach during heat of themiddaysun, but I often go to Gilgo in the morning or the early evening just to walk on the beach.
In spite of my near-death experience there so many years ago, it’s become a very peaceful place for me.
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