Childhood Memories of My Summers at Duck Harbor Pond

Everyone needs a special place to retreat when life feels overwhelming. This doesn’t have to be a physical location—it could be a cherished memory or a feeling of comfort that brings peace and reminds you of better times.

My name is Wendy Donohue, and Duck Harbor Pond is my special place. I’m lucky to have made many wonderful childhood memories here and fortunate enough to still spend my summers at the lake with my family, in the original white cottage my parents bought before I was born. I’ve been told it’s the oldest summer cottage still standing—though I’m not sure if my cousin’s “hut” counts!

I love asking people how they found Duck Harbor Pond and hearing their stories of who and what brought them here.

A Family Legacy at Duck Harbor

My story begins with my mother. She grew up just three miles away on a dairy farm along Route 191 in Lookout, across from what was then Hellmers General Store. My parents, Ann and John Von Ohlsen, bought our summer cabin in 1958, shortly after they were married. At the time, they were just starting their life together, with little money to spare. They were still renting their first apartment above an animal feed store in Rockland County, NY, two hours away.

My mother was a kindergarten teacher with summers off, and my father was a police officer. My mom dreamed of having six children but worried they’d never be able to afford regular vacations. A summer cabin was the perfect solution—a way to stay connected to the area and her parents, who remained on the farm.

She learned to swim as a child on a small strip of sand near what was then part of Kernin’s farm, now Duck Harbor Farm. My parents purchased the cottage from Dick Holloway, who had built it in the early ’50s with his father, using pieces of an old schoolhouse and a lot of love. It wasn’t fancy—it didn’t even have a bathroom—but it had an outhouse with a changing room and running water pumped from the lake.

Dick Holloway later built another cabin down the lake, which still remains in his family and continues to be a place for making special memories.

Summers Filled with Love and Laughter

My parents were married six years before adopting my brother and me, but even before we came along, summers were filled with family—lots of nieces and nephews visiting the cottage. A few of them you may even know—some loved Duck Harbor so much they bought property and have remained on the lake ever since.

Part of what makes Duck Harbor so special isn’t just its natural beauty—it’s the people. The “lake people” are kind-hearted, drawn to the peace and inspiration of nature. Duck Harbor connects with their heart and soul. In a world that moves at a hectic speed, the lake allows us to slow down, be present, and recharge.

Throughout my 59 years coming here, Duck Harbor has changed in some ways, but life still moves at a slower pace. Many families have spent generations here, and despite some new homes and more year-round residents, the lake remains a tight-knit community.

The Simplicity of Lake Life

Duck Harbor reminds me what’s truly important. It keeps me grounded in nature and focused on life’s simple joys—reconnecting with friends and family, free from superficial judgments. No one cares if you forgot to put on makeup or if your hair is a mess. This is a place for relaxation and appreciating life’s genuine gifts.

One of my favorite moments is early mornings on my screened porch with a cup of coffee. The lake is still, the water smooth like glass.

From my porch, I can see across the water to the green grassy fields of Schnakenberg’s farm. There used to be a white farmhouse beside the beautiful old barn still standing today. That was where Myra’s grandparents lived. Myra Schnakenberg now lives on the other side of the field. My grandparents were good friends with her family, and my mother even taught Myra in Sunday school.

I cannot begin to explain how meaningful this view is to me. I know I’m not alone—Jimmy McMyne’s mother once told me it reminded her of Psalm 23 from the Bible. She would sit on the swing in front of her house by the water, praying as she looked out at this peaceful, pastoral scene.

Treasured Childhood Memories

Sitting on my porch, I often reflect on the wonderful childhood memories I made here.

When I was young, we got our eggs from Schnakenberg’s farm. My friends and I would row across the lake to pick them up. Along the shore, black water snakes sunned themselves on the rocks, while cows cooled off in the lake, greeting us as we pulled our boat onto the grass.

At 13 years old, I spent an entire summer painting the white fence around the farm. Every morning, I’d paddle my canoe over, chatting with the cows as they came to investigate me and the wet paint. It took all summer, but I felt such a sense of accomplishment and gained an early appreciation for hard work.

Growing up, my summer days were spent with the kids at the top of our dirt road—the DiPalo’s, Menconi’s, Jimenez’s, and SeSaks. Many of them are still here, now sharing their lake homes with their own children.

Changes Over the Years

There’s a part of me that wishes Duck Harbor could stay frozen in time, untouched by the outside world. Another part of me appreciates some of the modern updates.

I must be getting old because I have mixed emotions about the newly paved Duck Harbor Road. I miss being able to say we lived “off the beaten path” on a dirt road, but I also love that we no longer have to dodge potholes!

When I was a kid, the sawmill was still operating, and the lake level was lowered throughout the summer to power it. This created large sandy beaches, perfect for building sandcastles and playing with orange salamanders.

We didn’t have jet skis or fancy tubes—just old black rubber inner tubes from the gas station. We’d stand on them, holding hands, trying not to fall off when boat waves hit. The only downside? Horseflies. We’d scream “HORSEFLY!” and dive under the water to escape!

We also had wooden rafts anchored in the water. It was a rite of passage to swim out and hang with the older kids. Our docks weren’t modern either—ours was a wooden platform on metal barrels, which wobbled when you walked on it. Over time, the wood warped, and stepping on a rusty nail was a painful childhood memory!

We even had a milkman who came weekly, delivering fresh chocolate milk—a treat we looked forward to all week!

A Lasting Legacy

My parents may not have been rich, but no amount of money could have made my childhood better. I felt safe, loved, and free in our little cottage, surrounded by friends and family, with no obligations or worries.

I want to thank my husband, Brendan, and my daughter, Gabby, for allowing me to keep these memories alive and continue making new ones every summer.

I also want to thank my cousins—Patti, Ricky, Lisa, and Terri—for sharing their own lake stories.

Most of all, I thank my mother, Ann (Breden) Von Ohlsen, whose deep love for Duck Harbor helped create the beautiful memories we all cherish today.

In loving memory of my mother,
Ann (Breden) Von Ohlsen
September 1, 1934 – March 17, 2023