Forests And Trees

Sometimes it’s easier to tell a huge story with a small one.

Scott Bluedorn is just another 34-year-old lifelong resident of East Hampton who is, quite possibly, going to lose the game of musical chairs so many working families are facing on the South Fork. An artist, he’s found a roof over his head with luck, determination and connections. All three are starting to come up short in a supercharged real estate market fueled by the pandemic and families fleeing the city.

He’s just one tree in a forest of crisis. The stories are varied, as are the demographics, but there’s one common theme: Year-round rentals for working class families are rare as hen’s teeth, and priced far out of reach. People spoke of an “affordable housing crisis” 20 years ago; what do we call this? A catastrophe? Armageddon?

It’s time to say it out loud: Southampton and East Hampton towns can point to a few projects, but they’ve failed the community by thinking small at a time when only ambitious, significant action will save the region.

And, make no mistake, that’s the stakes: Failing the men and women, and their families, who make up the foundation of this community — who serve the meals, dig the foundations, teach the children, patch the wounds, and do a thousand other tasks that keep an economy going — eventually will kill the golden goose. And everyone will suffer.

A different analogy: Scott Bluedorn, who is actively trying to help the town solve this problem by serving on an advisory committee, is just one tree. Should he fall, he won’t be alone. It’s not a clearing yet, but just wait.