Montauk Leisurama homes bought at Macy's in the 1960s have groovy vibe

When Murray Braverman bought a Leisurama home in Montauk in 1964 for $16,000, his wife, Laura, said he was crazy. But he had toured the residence being displayed on the ninth floor of Macy's department store in Manhattan and — noting that it came equipped with everything from furniture to kitchenware — considered it a bargain.

Time proved him correct. But even he was shocked when one of his neighbors' homes sold for $1 million last summer. Another recently went for $2.1 million.

"Can you believe that?" said the 94-year-old retired dentist, who still visits his acquisition in the summer. "I can't believe it myself."

Just over 200 Leisurama homes were built on Long Island and scooped up by early believers like Braverman. Now, as Montauk has made the transition from a remote blue-collar community to a trendy real estate hot spot, these quirky midcentury creations are commanding extraordinary prices and being appreciated anew for their carefree practicality.

'Mad Men' meets modern practicality

"They are being well received again," said John D'Agostino, a broker with Martha Greene Real Estate in Montauk who has sold dozens over the years. Similar Montauk residences also near the water with beach rights have jumped in price, too, but the Leisurama models have the historical appeal of the swinging Sixties, he added. "They have that 'Mad Men' retro vibe and there's always a niche of people who love to buy them."

Anyone who wants to experience the vibe for themselves can visit the Montauk Historical Society, which is hosting a Leisurama interactive exhibition sponsored by the Gardiner Foundation through Labor Day. Taking a page from the headline-making campaign six decades ago that featured a fully constructed home within the Macy's store ("Want to see it? Of course, you do," said the ad), the society created a furnished replica inside its own headquarters.

"The marketing campaign was so brilliant, we thought it would work for us, too," said the director, Mia Certic, who owns one of the homes and spent summers as a child in Montauk. Most are only 1,000 square feet, but she marvels at their cunning design.

"There is not an inch of space that is not utilized," she said.

The high prices they command now are astonishing to people such as Lisa Ocokoljich, whose grandparents in 1964 bought one in the Montauk development, where she still spends summers.

One of the homes is on the market for $2 million, although it has been renovated and a pool added in back.

"We saw one for sale 25 years ago for $150,000 and thought, 'Who's going to pay that for a Leisurama home?' " she said. "Who knew they would become so desirable?"

How Nixon and Khrushchev boosted Leisuramas

Actually, the homes made headlines before they even appeared in the United States.

Their precursor, built by Long Island developer Herbert Sadkin, was shown at the American National Exhibition in 1959 in Moscow, prompting the famous "Kitchen debate" between then-Vice President Richard Nixon and Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev. Nixon described it as a "typical American home." Khrushchev labeled it propaganda and sneered at its modern conveniences.

"Do you also have a machine that puts food in your mouth and pushes it down?" he said.

Realizing the confrontation was a great promotional gimmick (some of the homes also were displayed at the 1964 World's Fair in Queens), Sadkin decided to create an entire line of affordable vacation homes for regular people. He picked Montauk and later Lauderhill, Florida, as sites.

Most of the homes are clustered in a subdivision known as Culloden Shores on the northern shore of Montauk, although many have been altered or expanded from their original design. Block Island Sound is a short walk away and Lake Montauk a bit farther.

A thousand of the homes were originally planned, but Manhattan residents were leery of buying a home all the way out on eastern Long Island (the Long Island Expressway was only halfway finished back then). Only about 220 were built before the project ran into financial problems, said Certic. About 90% are still around, despite how locals predicted the structures wouldn't last the winter.

"People didn't trust it," said Certic. "It was a little pie in the sky."

What buyers got for $16,000

There were three models, the most popular being the middle one — the 950-square-foot "Expanded Convertible," which had two bedrooms and 1½ bathrooms. For its part, Macy's furnished beds, linens, a dishwasher, a 45-piece set of break-resistant plastic kitchenware, a refrigerator, stove, washer/dryer, rugs, tables, chairs, curtains, towels, sofas, flatware and more.

"The idea was you could just drop your bags and hit the beach," said D'Agostino.

The historical society exhibition contains almost all of the included items, which were donated by a family who sold their Leisurama home in October but didn't want to see its furnishings on a trash heap.

Those wandering the exhibit will spot a pack of Viceroy cigarettes and a bottle of Mateus wine on the end tables. A mushroom-design glow lamp sits on a nearby dresser. The period television plays a jaunty commercial featuring the Polaroid "Swinger" camera with song and lyrics by a young Barry Manilow. A Swanson Swiss steak TV dinner sits on the counter ready for the oven. But be careful where you step because those darned kids have left a game of Twister on the floor.

The neighborhoods that sprang up in the two-year time period when the homes were built were kid heavens filled with immediate friends who hit the beach, wandered the docks and roamed the area on their bikes.

"That was back in the day when your parents opened the door in the morning and said, 'Don't come back,' " recalled D'Agostino, who still has friends from his childhood there. "And you didn't, except maybe for meals."

Tiffany LaBanca was one who spent idyllic childhood summers in Montauk where her parents annually rented a vacation home. This is why she jumped at the chance to buy a Leisurama home four years ago when one came up for sale. She was immediately charmed by its laid-back aura.

"I walked in and knew this is my home," said the 53-year-old communications worker. "I didn't know about the history of them at the time, but I kind of felt it."

She also appreciated how, aside from an extension in the back, the former owners had kept it in original condition. She pointedly declined when one architect suggested she tear it down and build something bigger.

"I'm not in the business of ruining history," she said. "Now, I come home every day, take a two-minute walk down the hill and I'm in my beach chair overlooking the Sound."

Keeping history alive in Montauk

Some, such as Ocokoljich, 60, have been lucky enough to experience the joys of a Leisurama home from childhood days all the way to the present.

"We love it as much now as we did back then," she said.

The home was purchased by her grandparents in 1964 by way of a fortunate accident, she said. Ocokoljich was a colicky infant and her babysitting grandparents, who lived in Manhattan, drove her around in their car to keep her from crying. One day, they ended up in Montauk where they saw the display models for sale and made a down payment on the spot.

"That's the family legend anyway," she said.

Since then, she, her two sisters, five of their children and her mother pile into the home every summer.

"We're all on top of each other, but somehow we make it work," she said.

Her grandmother, who was always proud she paid off the home out of her own paycheck, told her how she and her husband came out to an empty home just after they bought it and spent the night on cots wondering if it was all a scam.

"The next day, this Macy's truck showed up with furniture, curtains, sheets for the pullout couch, towels, glasses and dishware in coordinated orange and brown colors. Even toothbrushes."

Ocokoljich was dubious.

"I said, 'Really, grandma, a toothbrush?' " she recalled.

Later, she discovered her grandmother was correct.

Said Certic, "So, now we're on a quest to find an original Leisurama toothbrush."

Buying a summer house on a whim at Macy's

Another fortunate accident led to the purchase of a Leisurama home by Murray Braverman, who was a Manhattan dentist at the time. When two of his patients canceled one day, he decided to walk to Macy's to buy an office chair.

The home display caught his eye. Impressed, he put down 10 bucks to reserve one for himself and $30 more for three of his friends.

One reason for his impromptu decision was that he had been considering where to send his three young children to summer camp when they got older. This seemed like the perfect answer at a reasonable price. Still, he was startled when he drove out to look over the building site.

"There was nothing but trees and bushes and deer frolicking all over the place," he said.

But the finished home turned out to be everything he hoped for, he said. And better than any summer camp, said his son, Michael, 65, an independent consultant who ran with a pack of friends who swam, fished and bicycled around the area.

"There were endless things to do," Michael said.

Later, he and his two sisters got jobs at local restaurants in their teens. After work, he sometimes would pull a chair onto the lawn, sip a beer and stare at the Milky Way.

"It was more than a house to us," he said. "It became our blood and bone."

What about the three friends for whom Murray put down money to reserve a home?

They never followed suit. Much to their regret. They sometimes visited him in Montauk and their wives always had a teasing refrain, he said.

"They'd say, 'Murray, why didn't you make my husband buy that home?' " he said.