Northport Memories of Yesteryear: The 'Bum Park'

Old Guys with Guns

In the early Fifties, as a very young child, I observed the building blocks of society and contemplated the philosophies of the future in the little seaside town of Northport, where every Memorial Day, those old guys in the uniforms and the funny hats marched in a parade down to the park and fired guns at the boat people from the base of the flagpole.

The noise from those guns was scary and I was glad that I wasn’t out there in one of those boats! I clung to the leg of my dad and looked up to him for protection in case one of those old guys decided to take a shot at me! He stood there so solemnly with his hand over his heart as he saluted old glory in homage to those who had paid the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. I of course didn’t understand what all this stuff was about and would be glad when those old guys quit shooting!  

During most of my youth, I acknowledged the presence of those “old guys,” at first with fear, mainly because of the hardened look on their faces. They had weathered an era I knew nothing about, had suffered grievous losses and gave more than their share so that little fellows like me could grow up in a free society where we could choose our destinies. It was an honorable gift that we were taught to perpetuate and, sadly, many of us little fellows eventually paid the ultimate price in our own military obligations.  

The 'Bum Park'

The “Bum Park” was my own childhood definition of a very specific area of the Northport Park grounds. It was the very northwest corner of Main Street and Bayview Avenue where there were benches and a World War I memorial.

The “Bum Park” encompassed no more than 1200 square feet and the benches were usually occupied by older retired gentlemen who enjoyed the tranquility of the setting in their autumn years.

To me, they were old guys like the ones in the funny hats with the guns. These guys dressed funny with their belt buckles somewhere just south of their breastbones and their clothes looked about as old as they were.

They didn’t look smart and crisp like dad and they weren’t at work. Hence, I reasoned they must be bums! They must have built this place so the bums would have a place to go!

For years, I called it the “Bum Park” and it became a kind of accepted term in our family that was used to identify that particular spot on planet earth. I guess when questioned as to how the term was coined, Mom and Dad must have gotten a huge laugh, but the term stuck anyway and even today, 60 years later, my older brother would know the exact GPS coordinates if we were in Antarctica and I simply mentioned “Bum Park.”