Dear Levittown,

You are the place people hate to love and love to hate, or even shockingly love to love. Whether you’re Levittrash to some or L-Town to others, you hold this indescribable quality that changes people, a quality within that makes those snobby 14 year olds claim their utter desire to get out, but once 18 can’t help but feel nostalgic about the prior years and memories they made with you. You are the town that possesses the kids who trash talk you, but will throw fists if anyone else speaks badly about you—who do they even think they are?

Being away at school has given me a great deal of time to think back on all of the experiences, people, and places that you had offered me that has made my life what it is today.

You have this way of turning complete strangers, living 30 feet away from each other, into comforting faces that run to one another when relatives pass, keys get locked inside houses, and eggs are needed for those brownies. I never really realized how much I appreciated your short walks on the Tri-County side of the turnpike, of course, to my Summit Lane friends’ houses before having the luxury of a car. If I had to take the walk all the way to Azalea, I would pass at least five familiar faces on my journey. Although I may not be as close with some people anymore, I still wanted to thank you for holding people that care for me, in spite of the years passed.

You constantly have summers that never disappoint. It’s bittersweet knowing that some things I completely rejoiced in as a kid will likely never happen again. Thank you for block parties that attracted people from all corners of the town. You always helped us have the best ones; it was normal for all of Boat Lane to be up until two in the morning singing along to "American Pie," lounging around a fire pit that was in every driveway. And what’s summer without good ol’ Cozzy? As ridiculous as it is, he left such an impression on my naive self and on every seven year old who ran up to his truck, face animated with awe and utter excitement, to make the life-changing decision between the Spongebob Squarepants ice cream or the Batman one, both with gumball eyes. I assumed every ice cream man was like this dessert hero; I thought every ice cream man would remember my name and birthday, along with my siblings' and all of my neighbor friends', in addition to giving us free candy. Everyone knew him; everyone loved him. He was just one of the many special people who made Levittown what it is today.

You have some of the best schools around, although people love to complain about them. Thank you for the greatest childhood (due largely from Summit Lane) any kid would be fortunate to have. Our class of about 50 students became closer than any other group of kindergarten to fifth graders, and we will always hold that bond dear to our hearts (and against every other elementary school). Thank you for some of the absolute greatest four years of my life in high school. You attract some of the most compassionate, determined, sympathetic, and hilarious teachers known to man.

Thank you for Porto Fino, Bageltown, Calda, Trop Smoothie, and the Division Deli, but most of all, thank you for The Cow. If there was one thing that separates a true native from an outsider, it is with the question: Have you ever had The Cow? People will claim their bacon egg and cheeses are the best, but c’mon, we all know who’s the real winner here.

Nine o'clock on a Saturday night as a 16 year old likely led me to your streets or your sumps, partaking in the usual high school fun that gave me the nostalgic stories I reminisce on today. Although now I usually don’t wander through the dark with a backpack and my best friends, you always seem to supply us with a good time, even if it doesn’t seem it at first. 16 or 19, I will always end up at The Cow the morning after for a nice cheese-filled and grease-soaked bacon egg and cheese with an over-creamed french vanilla iced coffee that will, unquestionably, give even insides made of steel the worst stomachache ever every time. But I wouldn't change a thing.

Oh, Levittown. I wouldn't want to experience life in any other town, even if Hempstead Turnpike is a living nightmare.

Love,

A Nostalgic Levitt Currently Living Upstate