In October 1870, Evelyn Ketcham wrote a letter to her brother George to invite him to her upcoming marriage to Sydney Buffett. Sydney was from an old Huntington family, but had moved to Nebraska a year earlier to seek his fortune. Their great, great grandson would eventually become the world’s richest man, but that’s another story. What’s intriguing is Evelyn’s postscript: “They have changed the name of Dix Hills. The name is Elwood now.”
The name Dix Hills—originally Dick’s Hills, named for Dick Pechegan—was given to the area on both sides of Jericho Turnpike. The area north of the Turnpike was known as North or Upper Dix Hills. On June 7, 1870, a post office was established in North Dix Hills under the name Elwood (the office was discontinued on October 31, 1902). A notice in the February 10, 1871 edition of The Long-Islander advised that the Postmaster General had ordered the Dix Hills Post Office discontinued and all letters and papers transferred to the Elwood Post Office.
Where the name came from is a mystery. Anna Singer, writing in The Long-Islander¸ speculated that the name was derived from Elkanah Wood, whose family owned a good deal of land in the area (The Long-Islander, May 23, 1974). The name Wood cannot be found in the Elwood area on the 1873 atlas and, although there was indeed an Elkanah Wood, he wasn’t born until 1871, a year after the post office was established.
Around the same time that “they” were changing the name of North Dix Hills, the residents of the area we know as East Northport were debating what to call their hamlet. Unlike the situation in Elwood, the residents were not subject to the dictates of the Postmaster General because they did not yet have their own post office. Instead the residents of what was then known as Claypitts—for the plentiful deposits of clay to be found there—met in the local schoolhouse to discuss changing their hamlet’s name. Fourteen names were suggested, but the top contenders were Delmont and Fairview. The vote was reported in The Long-Islander on January 27, 1870 in verse:
The name “Clay Pitts” we bid adieu
For we have elected the name “Fairview;”
And that by a large majority, too,
Over the names some had in view!
But apparently not all were happy with the new name. A group of residents put forward the name Genola, which was considered by some to be the efforts of a minority to impose its will on the majority who had openly and fairly voted for Fairview. That name lives on in the place where the community buries its dead—Genola Rural Cemtery.
Residents’ wishes would soon be subjected to outside influences. This time, it would be the arrival of the Long Island Rail Road. The Rail Road terminated at Northport in 1867. But plans were soon formulated to extend the line to Port Jefferson. It was decided to follow an easterly route from the Greenlawn station, rather than extend the line from Northport. When the line opened in 1872, trains stopped at a new station south and slightly east of the Northport station. Although the station is officially known as the Northport station, the area around it became known, at least unofficially, as East Northport (probably because the more geographically accurate South Northport would be too silly a name).
The post office, however, decided on still another name. In 1896, it opened the Larkfield Post Office. The name Larkfield was apparently in honor of the meadowlarks that could be found on the open fields of the area. According to East Northport, An Incomplete History, in 1909, residents circulated a petition to change the name of the post office to East Northport. And thus the name became official.
But still there was dissention. In 1952, the East Northport Board of Trade announced an effort to revert to the name Larkfield. The Board of Trade claimed that mail destined for East Northport often found its way to Eastport or Northport. Moreover, the growing community should have an identity independent from the village to the north. The effort was renewed in the 1960s, but the geographically inaccurate name persists.
Another hamlet of Huntington has had the same name for centuries, but how it is spelled and pronounced has changed. Once known as Whitman’s Hollow, the name Commack comes from the Indian name “winnecomac” meaning “pleasant land.” Originally the name was spelled Comac and the historic pronunciation rhymes with the word “comic.” Now most residents pronounce the name Co-mack, with the emphasis on the first syllable.
The change in pronunciation has been attributed by some to the rapid growth of the area in the 1950s and city radio announcers’ unfamiliarity with the traditional pronunciation. However, the earlier spelling of Comac seems to support the “modern” or outsider’s pronunciation. Whereas the modern spelling Commack should be pronounced Com-mack with the emphasis on the second syllable—not exactly the same as “comic,” but closer than Co-mac.
But the change of spelling occurred much earlier than the suburb boom of the mid-twentieth century. In fact, the Commack spelling appears in the Brooklyn Eagle as early as 1868. In The Long-Islander, Commack appears as early as 1891; and the last time Comac appears is 1894. Therefore, locally it would seem the change in spelling was made in the 1890s. And it would seem reasonable to assume that the “modern” pronunciation was being used as early as the 1890s—if not earlier.
It is unclear why the modern pronunciation seems to follow the old spelling of the name and why the change in spelling did not reinforce the traditional pronunciation.
These are but three examples in the Town of Huntington of the sometimes fleeting nature of place names. We tend to think that places are given names and that those names stick. But ask the residents of Fairground, Oldfields, Cow Harbor, Horse Neck, Fresh Ponds, and Sweet Hollow about the permanence of place names.
But a community by any other name . . .
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