Speaking of life in Levittown's early days in the June/July issue of Memories Magazine, the late Tom Carroll noted that "there was more camaraderie between people back then. Now everybody's got two or three cars in the driveway and there are shopping malls all over the place. You don't have to get involved with your neighbor. Nowadays you got mothers and fathers working; nobody has time for a cup of coffee over the back fence." Mr. Carroll, by the way, was the founder of the Levittown Historical Society.

It's difficult to maintain a full social calendar these days, let alone be actively involved in the civic affairs of one's community when one has to work multiple jobs. But some of the lack of "camaraderie" is cultural. I know adults who know more about the members of their favorite professional sports teams than their children's teachers; are less acquainted with their next door neighbors than the characters in their favorite sitcoms. We are seeing the erosion of civil society as a result of the weakening of family bonds, economic dislocations, and the general bureaucratization of modern life. Some of this is the unavoidable legacy of modernity and some of it is systemic. Pope John Paul II articulated the latter a few years ago:

"A person who is deprived of something he can call his own and the possibility of earning a living through his own initiative comes to depend upon the social machine and those who control it. This makes it more difficult for him to recognize his dignity as a person and hinders progress toward the building up of an authentic human community."

I'm inclined to think that this tide will eventually ebb. Back in the 1970s, historian John Luckacs suggested that the Modern Age was coming to an end and a new and radically different historical period will follow. When I behold the disintegration of legal and governmental systems, failed nation-states, and resurgent tribalism and religious fundamentalism throughout the world, I'm inclined - like Tom in The Great Gatsby- to say "civilization's going to pieces." But then I remember that Man, like all of his primate relatives, is a social animal. It will always be at the grassroots that new paradigms emerge - the "progress toward the building up of an authentic human community" of which John Paul II spoke.

This phenomenon was addressed by Robert D. Putnam in his 2000 book, Bowling Alone in which he noted that while bowling lanes enjoy a flourishing business, membership in leagues are in decline. People, he observed, are bowling alone and that, indeed, is the perfect metaphor for the decline of civil society. Bowling is an ancient sport with an extraordinary history. The Puritans in Cromwell's day endeavored to outlaw it by passing codes against "Nine Pins," to wit, keglers simply added a tenth pin. Before that, it came under the eye of the Norman kings of England who saw its popularity as a threat to national security because it took time away from archery practice. Putnam's use of bowling as a barometer of the "social capital" of a society is no less extraordinary.

But there is an interesting case to be made for the relationship between bowling and the health of a community and for that reason, no less than because it has been the quintessentially suburban leisure, that the Levittown Historical Society has chosen to make bowling in Levittown the subject of its June General Meeting. On June 21, at 7:30 p.m., Nick Mormando of the Levittown Lanes will speak at the Levittown Public Library about the history of the North and South lanes which, in the 1950s, was the epicenter of the community's social life hosting everything from leagues to weddings. His presentation will be a wonderful look at the people and events that have surrounded the history of the Levittown Lanes; a sociological glimpse of suburbia in transition. It promises to be a fascinating profile hosted by the Levittown Historical Society and anyone interested in learning more about the event of the Society should call 735-9060.