Sometimes when you’re living amidst the numbered blocks and wide avenues of Manhattan it’s hard to imagine that sleepy little towns exist just a borough away. So I enlisted a friend and decided to take the road slightly less traveled (Route 25A) and explore the Main Streets of Long Island’s North Shore.
The convenient thing about 25A is that it winds through towns, often briefly turning into Main Street as you pass through. As we drove through the quaint town of Cold Spring Harbor, the modest storefront of Kellogg’s Dollhouse shop caught my eye. As a devoted lover of all things miniature I couldn’t pass this by.
Kelloggs Dollhouse Shop has been open 33 years and on Cold Spring Harbor's Main Street for 26 years.
Behind the counter I found Sonia Kellogg who has been running the shop since her husband, Ned, passed away a year ago. She told me that he was a master craftsmen featured in many a newspaper article and on T.V., recognized nationally for his exquisite dollhouses. The store has been on Main Street for 26 years and in business for 33 (as proudly stated on a fliers around the store).
Ned Kellogg a few years before his death with dollhouse he made. The house is a replica of a Victorian Townhouse in San Francisco, California. (photo provided by Sonia Kellogg)
Since its time on Main Street, things have changed. “Twenty six years ago you couldn’t even walk the streets, it was so crowded,” Sonia told me.
Less crowded today? Seemingly impossible, but true, according to Sonia.
“These days people don’t walk the streets anymore, they’re just on the internet,” she said. “Come to think of it, Main Street did look a little deserted for a beautiful summer day. “People don’t support their local shops anymore.”
Over the years, Sonia told me, most of the shops have gone out of business, transforming Main Street from commercial center to doctor’s offices and real estate agencies.
On Cold Spring Harbor's Historic Main Street, where retail shops once thrived, Real Estate offices now line the street.
But still, through special orders and commissioned dollhouses costing upwards of $10,000, Kellogg’s has stayed afloat on Main Street. Even a few loyal customers come back to reminisce. Said Sonia: “Some people come and tell me, ‘Oh you’re still here! I used to come here as a little girl!’ And it’s like they’ve come home.”
On the opposite end of Main Street, things become more residential. Old houses with chipping paint and plaques boasting construction from the early 1800’s abut refurbished cottages much like their mini counterparts in Kellogg’s. Amongst the houses sits Cold Spring Harbor’s Whaling Museum, displaying an old whaling boat and other relics from the town’s fishing days. Richard Timm, the volunteer docent at the Museum, told us that Main Street actually used to be called “Bedlam Street” due to the rowdy drunken fishermen and the mixed tongues of foreign sailors.
Cold Spring Harbor's Whaling Museum
The Whaling Museum, founded in 1936, is surprisingly modern compared to the rest of downtown. T.V. monitors play old videos of fisherman, a light-up screen shows the paths of whale pods across the Atlantic, and a detailed diorama shows Cold Spring Harbor in the mid 19th century, the days of thriving commercial fishing. The tiny Main Street of old is a tree-lined dirt road leading out to the water where the big ships once moored.
A diorama of Old Main street in the Whaling Museum
Richard tells us that though the museum is popular for school groups (16,000 kids came through last year) the walk-in crowd is modest, to say the least. But Richard still enjoys being there. “Afterall,” he tells me “Whaling is the background of Long Island, the culture, it’s the way Long Island grew up.”
According to Richard, Main Street hasn’t changed much in appearance. But other things have. “I remember towns before shopping malls when every neighborhood had a little shoe store and a penny candy store. My mother never drove to buy food, she walked down the block!”
“Death” he says. “So many places have died.” The towns are trying to bring them back, he says, but it’s tough.
Today my friend and I are the only foot traffic along Cold Spring’s Main Street. A few cars honk, bewildered, as they whiz by on their way to the beach.
