Back in the 1980’s, when jobs were scarce and wealth a fleeting thing, The Sagamore closed its doors for a few years and the entire area softened a bit and grew quiet. The doors are open now, and to pass through them is to step into a place where Now and Then meet, shake hands, and pass on side by side. Children are welcome, but are always seen, never heard. None are permitted in the formal dining areas after a certain hour. Bathing suits are not appropriate in the public areas of the building or outdoors where they may be viewed by passersby. Music wafts on the breeze from the lake front, barely ruffling the well-dressed ladies lounging on beautifully-crafted Adirondack chaises under oaks and sycamores that are as old as the island itself. The place is awash in flowers. Horse-drawn carriages sway into the parking areas, and the mahogany on the private cruise boat tied nearby gleams with wax and polish. Polished brass fixtures reflect the sun from every corner. The lakeside dining room bustles with activity as the staff prepares for the lobster buffet which is one of The Sagamore’s most popular events. The staff is deferential, courteous, almost apologetic, and endearing at every turn.

We leave the lakeside dining room with treasures. For our high-dollar spending we have earned imprinted beer glasses and wonderful commemorative aprons. We take home the courtesy umbrella with the hotel’s logo printed in white on a Sagamore green field. The white-on-green theme is ubiquitous, undoubtedly a subtle reminder that the white hotel stands on Green Island. We return to our room for a last rest in the wonderful caned wooden rockers on our private porch hideaway, then we bid farewell to a place that is many places in time at once, and to which we will return time and again.