Late last month, I and two of my friends at the Levittown Historical Society, Steve Buczek and Daphne Rus, had the honor of receiving Canadian journalist John Bentley Mays. Mr. Mays, a cultural correspondent with Toronto's National Post, has written extensively on urban and suburban growth in the 19th and 20th centuries. For his retrospective on the century piece, he decided to write about the place that is both a quintessential example and historical milestone of 20th century suburbia, our own Levittown. Odd thing is, although he has traveled all over the world on assignment, and met many people who have heard of Levittown (yes, we are still world famous!), he had never before been there. That changed with his visit and, I daresay, he was impressed by what he saw.

We spent the morning at the Levittown Historical Society's Museum at the Levittown Memorial Education Center. Like a child in a toy store, he examined our extensive collection of maps, models, artifacts, vintage photographs, documents, furnishings, and publications pertaining to Levittown, the rural communities of Jerusalem and Island Trees, the legacy of World War II, the life of William Levitt, and pre-1960 Americana.

Juxtaposing historical discussion was the community's subsequent development, its economic and social problems, and its future prospects. Levittown's initial shortcomings when contrasted to many pre-WW II communities - lack of diversified housing types and industry, for example - have had a deleterious effect on many suburban developments modeled after it according to Mr. May's studies. But the original, he noted, seems to have held up well.

In the afternoon, we hit the roads of Levittown; my briefcase bulging with historical photographs to make before/after comparisons, and my older friends, full of wonderful anecdotes and fascinating facts with which to regale our guest.

We drove down Hempstead Turnpike past Friendly's where an ancient pine tree grove first described in 1747 grew and bequeathed the name Island Trees to the area. Then past St. Bernard's Church; in the 1930's the site of a rural airfield called Nassau Airport where Steve learned to fly as a youth. Finally, past Dalton Funeral Home. It began as a farmhouse built by Ted Rowehl in 1929.

Over near the North Village Green, we drove past the dozen homes built in the 1930s by Herbert Gould, the first of 17,447 homes built by William Levitt, and the East Meadow firehouse on whose grounds there was a coal yard back in the 1870s and 1880s for the Long Island Rail Road. The tracks of the railroad are long gone and only LIPA's power lines stand there today.

Down Orchid Road we went, observing Cape Cods on one side of the road and ranch houses on the other. In and out of side streets we meandered, noting the endless number of imaginative renovations that render Levittowners among the world's most architecturally creative people. On Woodcock Lane, we visited Daphne's house. Her kitchen is a Levitt original save for the island.

Behind Woodcock Lane, off Skimmer, we visited the vacant lot known to locals since the late 1940s as the Old Motor. This was where I had collected butterflies in the late 1960s and early '70s and where, before roaring crowds and a wooden grandstand festooned in brilliantly hued banners, the world famous 1908-10 Vanderbilt Cup Races were held. No din of the spectators that afternoon, just a gentle wind rippling the grass, an occasional monarch butterfly sailing by, and the apprehension that this site might not be preserved for future generations.

We took a detour to Blacksmith Road and drove about its course to get an idea of the perimeter of the old airfield that existed here in the 1920s and '30s. It was called the Long Island Aviation Country Club and among its members was Charles Lindbergh who flew here often.

Heading south, I showed Mr. Mays the contours that indicate the course of an ancient rivulet named Big Hollow Creek that ran alongside Division Avenue back in the 19th century when German immigrants established their dairy and potato farms in the area. We made our way to Wantagh Avenue past St. John's of Jerusalem (1856) to the Little Red Schoolhouse (1871), the most recent structure to occupy the site since the 1760s.

We continued until we arrived at the Cherrywood Shopping Center. It is a nondescript location typical of many throughout America. But here, in the 1640s, the English Quakers first settled.

"How aware are Levittowners of this history?" Mr. Mays asked me. "Not very," was my answer. "But that's changing."

Indeed, organizations like the Levittown Historical Society are growing and their ranks are not, as one might expect, restricted to an older set. A visit to Old Bethpage Village Restoration or the local bookstore, or a few websites, or the pages of Newsday suggests that interest in local history is on the rise. It is encouraging when we see the positive reactions of the myriad school children who visit our museum every month.

It is my conviction that things like local history and genealogy -- as opposed to the substance of national history now entombed in standardized textbooks -- must increase as so many of the institutional edifices that hitherto crystallize a sense of identity are falling by the wayside to such emergent post-modern forces as globalism and multiculturalism. It is likewise my conviction that in the years to come, the Levittown Historical Society will still be there to preserve the legacy of William J. Levitt, the suburban town he established, and the rural community that preceded it.