With the hit-and-run death of a nun in Water Mill on Monday, the message is clear that South Fork roads are no place for pedestrians. Only two weeks ago, this community had to digest the news that a high school student was struck and killed as he and several friends made their way on foot from the Amagansett train station to his house. And, although her death did not involve a pedestrian, a Montauk resident was killed when her car apparently went into the path of an oncoming pickup truck on July 4.

    We cannot help but be saddened by each and every one of these deaths. Their frequency adds to the sense of needless loss. Sure, unfortunate things are going to happen when you put pedestrians together with vehicles on roads without shoulders or sidewalks. But that does not make these deaths or any of the more minor incidents acceptable.    Visitors need to remember that the South Fork, if you go by recent summer population estimates, is no bucolic paradise where you can walk wherever you please and drive as fast as you like. Drivers need to keep it slow and watch for surprises around every turn. And local officials must respond by providing sidewalks, and bicycle paths, where they can and regrading roadsides for better visibility where they cannot.

   One thing seems impossible in East Hampton Town — an even-handed and calm discussion of any aspect of trucks on the beaches. We were reminded of this last week when a reasonable question came up about whether the Three Mile Harbor side of Maidstone Park was a suitable place for drivers of four-wheel-drive vehicles to set up camp during daytime hours.

    Time was, you might see one or two trucks on the sand there, just south of the stone breakwater. Nowadays, maybe a dozen line the shore on a hot weekend afternoon. These are not vehicles used by anglers; they belong to beachgoers who don’t want to carry umbrellas and chairs down the sand or just like to sit by their trucks, where access to beach toys for the kids and refreshments is easy and at hand.

    Because of the traffic, the beach has become so pounded down that four-wheel drive is now barely necessary there. Let’s face it, the line of vehicles is unpleasant to the eye, inappropriate in a natural area, and the trucks take up an unfair amount of the limited space, blocking in some cases the time-honored free passage along the strand afforded town residents in the Dongan Patent of 1686.

    A reasonable answer might be to ask that able-bodied people park on the pavement and reserve the daytime right to drive on this particular beach for those with physical handicaps. Do not expect any proposal of this kind to lead to a rational conversation about the appropriate time and place for four-wheeling, however. Instead, any voices of compromise would be quickly drowned out by cries that limits of any kind would be a slippery slope to a total ban. Hogwash.

    At its best, government is supposed to be about making difficult choices. It will be regrettable if the noise about beach driving prevents a much-needed conversation from taking place at all.

   If ever one needed evidence of America’s profoundly contradictory attitude toward alcohol, one need look no further than the Town of East Hampton. By night, police conduct necessary sweeps to get drunken drivers off the roads. By day, it is a different story: Public drinking — to considerable excess — seems to be encouraged, at least tacitly.

    We were surprised and not a little disappointed to learn that the East Hampton Town Trustees, whose jurisdiction notably includes most of the town’s beaches, failed to even discuss the soggy, beer-fueled weekend gatherings at Indian Wells Beach in Amagansett at their last meeting, even though the Amagansett Citizens Advisory Committee had mulled the problem (and a report thereof had appeared on our front page).

    We have a view about the matter: Daytime alcohol use should be banned on town beaches while lifeguards are present. The trustees may have come to a different conclusion if they bothered to take up the issue, but nary a word passed the nine members’ lips. Part of their reluctance may be that in order to get a ban on the books, they would have to gain the town board’s cooperation. That is no excuse for pretending the growing problem at Indian Wells does not exist, however.

    East Hampton Village and the state parks prohibited alcohol on their beaches long ago. In the town, the public might prefer that drinking continue in some places or at some times, for example, after families have gone home.

    It is reasonable to expect that the Indian Wells gatherings will grow, and perhaps spread. With alcohol abuse there on weekend afternoons comes greater costs to residents’ enjoyment of the beach, as well as potential risks caused by drunken drivers or soused pedestrians. Town officials, both on Pantigo Road and in the trustees’ sea-view redoubt on Bluff Road, should take up the question sooner rather than later.

   A bill sponsored by State Senator Kenneth P. LaValle and Assemblyman Fred W. Thiele Jr. just might change the world. Okay, so the measure to give local governments and school districts the ability to issue their own tax breaks for “green” buildings and retrofits cannot by itself stem global warming or slow the rate of sea level rise, but it would encourage individuals do their part.

    The legislation was approved without a single no vote by both the Assembly and Senate, and with good reason. Starting next year, it would allow the state’s municipal boards to offer property tax exemptions for work that meets the standards set by the Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design organization. For the first three years, the bill would keep any increased assessment from being reflected on a property owner’s tax bill. For the highest-rated, or “platinum” LEED-certified projects, assessments would not jump until year seven.

    Implementation, of course, falls to local governments, as it does with so many of Albany’s bright ideas. Town, village, and school boards must adopt the program. Then, local assessors would review the construction and somehow remember  to add the increased assessments once the exemptions timed out. It is potentially a hassle, but well worth it.

    What is revolutionary about the legislation is that it empowers school districts, whose taxes make up the greatest share of most property tax bills, to promote green building — no more waiting around for town officials to find the motivation. At the same time, the cost in terms of lost taxes is negligible, as present assessments remain in place; only the added value of the new construction or retrofit would be exempted.

    The bill awaits Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo’s signature. It will then be up to local governments to take advantage of it. We hope they do so as soon as possible.

   East Hamptoners are beginning to express wishes that officials put a stop to huge, daytime booze-fueled gatherings at Indian Wells Beach in Amagansett. Doing so would be easy, as we explain at the conclusion of this editorial. The question is whether the town should bring the hammer down or let the party go on.

    Like any number of curious observers who had heard tell of the informal parties at Indian Wells, we took a walk to the right of the lifeguard stands Saturday to see the scene firsthand. It was, if anything, unfamiliar, unless you are among those who have witnessed the shenanigans during spring break along the Florida coast. Without exaggerating, there were hundreds of what appeared to be 20 and 30-somethings spread across the sand. Many had open cans of beer in their hands, mostly Bud Light, for some unknown reason.

    A volleyball game was under way. Four young men lined up their dozens of empty beer cans along the side of the competitive bean-bag-toss match they had going. Others played a game in which a guy on the beach tried to kick a soccer ball into the chests of a bunch of buddies standing waist deep in the surf. A dozen or two more, men and women alike, bobbed nearby, keeping their beers above water. Up on dry land, a number of smaller groups within the massive whole listened to nondescript pop tunes that drifted from battery-operated radios and the like. And, yes, among the hundreds of people was a young man in a bear costume. Every beach blast needs one, right?

    As odd as the party (if you can accurately call it that) was, it was all rather benign. No one appeared ready to fight, nor, despite all the alcohol consumption, did anyone look particularly drunk. Though empty cans of Bud were scattered around, we are told the revelers usually clean up after themselves.

    What was going on in the parking lot was perhaps more of a problem. An East Hampton Town police officer was rather forcefully explaining to a recalcitrant taxi-van driver that he had to keep moving and not clog the turn-around. Other vehicles, including more taxis from who knows where, circled the lot, their drivers looking for places to park. Over the din of a far-too-loud generator on one of the concessionaire’s trucks, a marine patrol officer could be heard talking over a cellphone about the crowd and what to do. An Amagansett resident told us that at times lines of beer-filled people clog the tiny restroom, leaving it inaccessible to those with young children who desperately need to go.

    Some members of the East Hampton Town Board have said they are reluctant to put a damper on the fun. You could hear that as a clear, if unstated, expression of desire to keep the cash flowing into town by whatever means, whether in sales of six-packs or illegal share-house rentals — despite the cost to the community in extra taxes for cleanups and patrols or in terms of residents’ enjoyment of the beaches.

    We were struck recently at something a young mother of our acquaintance said about it all. Indian Wells was her go-to beach, but she is no longer comfortable taking her children there. It just wasn’t relaxing anymore, she said. This is the bottom line for us: An East Hampton taxpayer and lifelong resident no longer cares to go to “her” beach. To stand by and allow this to happen is a profound failure of the town’s leadership.

    The solution is easy. The East Hampton Town Board and Trustees should move quickly to ban the consumption of alcohol at beaches where there are lifeguards from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. If people want to have an evening glass of wine or an all-night beer bash, fine. The town could even let those pretentious catered events with full bars continue. But daytime drinking and enormous frat-style parties should be no more. The town code already gives officials the latitude to post no-alcohol signs at the beaches. The time has come to do so — at least for daytime hours.

   It is hurricane season again, so public officials and the utilities are beginning to make all the usual pronouncements about how well prepared they are in case a storm strikes. This evening at 6, the supervisors of East Hampton, Southampton, and Shelter Island are to appear at the Hampton Library in Bridgehampton with State Assemblyman Fred W. Thiele Jr. and Michael Hervey, the Long Island Power Authority’s chief operating officer, to hear about what the company is doing to get ready.

    Local governments on the South Fork and the power authority had a test run last August as Hurricane and Tropical Storm Irene crossed to the west. From that near-miss, many observers concluded that LIPA would have come up short in the event of a real disaster. Power outages lingered surprisingly long in some areas even though crews worked nearly around the clock to restore power to more than 500,000 customers across Long Island —- this from a weakened storm whose center did not pass over it.

    East Hampton Village Mayor Paul F. Rickenbach Jr. spoke for many last year when he gave LIPA a grade of C minus for its response, and, he said, that was “being gracious.” Mr. Thiele and State Senator Kenneth P. LaValle were also critical.

    Public pleas for the utility to put more of its electric lines underground and out of harm’s way go unanswered year after year because of cost. LIPA has conducted regular tree-trimming to keep lines from falling in storms, but it’s a good bet it has not done quite enough. Nor, from what we can tell, has a communication deficit from East Hampton Town Hall been addressed.

    Town Supervisor Bill Wilkinson, who is expected to attend this evening’s session, might take a moment to speak with his Southampton counterpart, Anna Throne-Holst, who is also on the guest list. Southampton outpaced East Hampton by far last year in getting updates out to residents and visitors as Irene approached. As we noted last year, Southampton issued advisories every couple of hours and did its best to keep the public informed through a variety of media outlets. The few messages from Mr. Wilkinson’s office were confusing and trivial at best. He might want to ask Ms. Throne-Holst how she did it.

    Also important was the Town of East Hampton’s failure to close off low-lying oceanfront road-ends. One neighborhood association on Napeague took it upon itself to sandbag a critical gap in the dunes when town help didn’t arrive. Downtown Montauk and the Ditch Plain neighborhood are essentially at sea level, so it wasn’t surprising that water poured in unimpeded through man-made openings.

    Predictions about hurricanes are by nature highly speculative. Scientists can estimate how many may arise in a given year, but cannot say even as late as a day or two before exactly where one will make landfall. Judging from the inadequate preparation and responses to 2011’s Irene, eastern Long Island’s elected leaders and its monopoly power company have a lot of work to do. This evening’s meeting will be meaningless without measurable changes to back up officials’ best intentions.

   Another week, another fatality on the South Fork roads. The death of Douglas Schneiderman, 51, of McLean, Va., in a head-on collision on Route 114 as he was headed to Sag Harbor on Sunday brought the total dead this summer in incidents in eastern Southampton Town and East Hampton to five. Make no mistake, five automobile-related deaths here is a significant number; in some years there have been none at all. And then there are the accidents in which people are injured, with some victims carrying physical or mental scars with them the rest of their lives. Mr. Schneiderman’s wife and daughter were seriously injured in the crash, as was the driver of the other vehicle, Brian K. Midgett, 20, of East Hampton.

    As notable as the statistics has been a common reaction among many people we have spoken to since news of Sunday’s crash began to spread. To a man and a woman, the sense has been that these deaths are not surprising, given the heightened craziness and risk on the roads this season. The South Fork seems out of control as too many people compete for too little space on the beaches, in shops and restaurants, and on the pavement.

    For many, the balance has been tipped too far in favor of the summer hordes. The result is a place that does not feel like home during what many consider the nicest part of the year. Elected officials have dismissed complaints about noisy, overcrowded nightclubs by telling neighbors in effect to grin and bear it because the disturbances would last for only a few months. Yet East Hampton Town is fast becoming something unfamiliar, something its residents did not sign up for. The feeling is widespread.

    Drawing a straight line from the summertime madness to Mr. Schneiderman’s death — and the others — is impossible. What must be understood and reflected on by those in a position to do something to stem the tide, however, is that many people strongly believe there is a connection.

   Seventy years ago Wednesday, four German saboteurs — armed and trained for a mission of destruction — slipped ashore in Amagansett. Though a minor footnote in the annals of World War II, it was one of the very few known incidents in which enemy operatives set foot on United States soil. Moreover, in recent times, the military tribunals in which the would-be attackers were tried and sentenced have been cited as the legal antecedents of how  cases are handled of prisoners at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

    On that long-ago night, the Germans had with them some $80,000 in cash, crates of explosives, and a few odd items of spycraft. Within moments of their arrival in a hamlet far removed from the battles in Europe and the Pacific, however, a coast guardsman on patrol from the Atlantic Avenue Life-Saving Station discovered them. The Germans said they were fishermen whose boat had run aground. They then contradicted orders by giving him a bribe instead of shooting him and telling him to get lost. John Cullen, a seaman second class, played along, but he quickly returned to the station and sent out the alert. Four days later, a second team of saboteurs landed near Jacksonville, Fla., on a similar mission.

    The manhunt that might have been expected did not exactly follow the discovery of the Germans and their dangerous cache. It was not until one of them managed to convince a skeptical Federal Bureau of Investigation agent that he was really part of a plot against the United States. Still, it was wartime, and J. Edgar Hoover was happy to spread the fiction that the F.B.I. had been on to the Germans from the beginning.

    Today the station from which the unarmed Seaman Cullen walked that night stands in a precarious state. Through the generosity of several private citizens, the Town of East Hampton took over its ownership in 2006 and moved it back to the dunes near its original site. There it is has stood since, more or less buttoned up from the elements.

    A dramatic re-enactment of sorts is planned for Wednesday evening, in which those who are working to restore the station and open it as a museum and perhaps an alternative meeting place will recall the events of summer 1942. It is hoped that the event will draw attention to the station’s important place in our history.

    Money is needed to finish stabilizing and restoring the building. It is a worthy undertaking, one that deserves both official and community support.

   Rushed to a vote without advance notice, East Hampton Town Supervisor Bill Wilkinson tried to ram through a massive reorganization of the Planning Department and other land-use departments last week, including management of the community preservation fund and aquaculture, among others. The effort failed, but the implications, both of the means by which the coup was plotted and what effects it would have had, are huge and deserve close scrutiny.

    What came up for a losing vote at a board meeting on Thursday night had not surfaced in any public form until the day before, when a resolution appeared on the town Web site calling for the reorganization of the Natural Resources Department. In reality, the proposal went much further: It would have reduced the Planning Department to a few senior staffers and shifted permits for building and land development to a new Environmental Protection Department, headed by a recent political appointee.

    On the surface, the move came out of Mr. Wilkinson’s and Councilwoman Theresa Quigley’s often-stated goal to see greater efficiency in the way approvals under the town code are granted. They voted “yes” on the measure Thursday. In concept, such a goal may have merit, but, in practice, there would be much more than efficiency involved.

    Setting aside for a moment whether the proposal has merit, the way in which it was considered prior to being submitted for a town board vote stands in violation of the New York Open Meetings Law, which every municipality must follow. Basically, the law says that nearly everything elected or appointed officials and voting members of any board do or deliberate must be accessible to the public.

    There are several, very strictly limited — if optional — exceptions, notably to protect litigation strategy, the privacy of public employees, and contract negotiations. In those cases, so-called executive sessions are allowed, excluding the public and the press, though even these are subject to carefully described procedures. Perhaps the most important, and frequently overlooked, requirement in the law is that executive sessions must be called during an open meeting and the subject of the closed-door session disclosed in advance. Everything else government boards do must occur at meetings that one and all can attend.

    There can be no winning argument that a massive restructuring of town departments and how applications for various permits are handled are legally a matter for executive session. Such considerations are to be conducted in full view of voters for reasons of common sense as well as the law. Mr. Wilkinson has overreached on both by claiming that the realignment was properly planned in executive session because it involved individual town employees. This is a ploy. Information about the personal qualifications of those who might lead a new agency could be discussed in private, for example, but how the departments would be aligned could not.

    It is deeply concerning that the town’s top attorney, John Jilnicki, who wrote the failed resolution, could go along with this apparent violation of the law. Unfortunately, the state Open Meetings Law is a toothless tiger; no penalties are ascribed for those who knowingly thwart it. Short of getting an injunction after the fact, there really are no effective means to get officials to comply when executive sessions are abused.

    Though remarkably light on details, the proposal, which Mr. Wilkinson introduced for a vote, would have been a dramatic setback for environmental protection in the Town of East Hampton. By cordoning off key members of the Planning Department on these matters, the reorganization would have been likely to speed approvals of questionable building projects by emasculating their review.

    Moreover, by vesting new powers in some of the town’s less-senior staffers, those most at risk of punitive action from elected officials, the plan would have created a system in which political influence could run rampant. There already have been allegations of arm-twisting coming from the top on certain projects; the restructuring would have set that in stone. Mr. Wilkinson, who has boasted, Yoda-like, that he is the most transparent of elected officials, is transparent indeed. But the transparency shines a light on his motives, not on how he chooses to go about them. This measure appears to have come from an intention to help his political sympathizers, never mind that by doing so he would allow East Hampton to be turned into a place most of its residents would detest.

    If the town’s planning and environmental review is to be redesigned, the discussion must take place in public. Many people have expressed frustration with the way in which all but routine applications are handled. Their views — those of builders, architects, environmentalists, entrepreneurs, and the community at large — must all be invited and carefully considered. Solving the problems that arise would take far more than a handful of people in a room operating under an inappropriate and illegal cloak of privacy.

   Winter seems a long way off at the moment, but that’s not so as far as the East Hampton Village trustees are concerned. Tomorrow, they are expected to approve a law that would require vacant and closed-for-the-season shops to place displays or graphics in their windows rather than cover them with depressingly plain paper.

    It is a sad testament to what Main Street, East Hampton, once was, now that it now seems almost a ghost town come November. Where once the downtown shops supported thriving business for 12 months, storefronts now add to the feeling of desolation for half the year.

    All things being equal, we would rather see the return of the kind of places once run by members of the community, by friends and neighbors, not distant corporate offices uninterested in what the place looks or feels like when they can’t be bothered to keep the lights on. Until that day comes, the village leaders are correct in demanding at least a degree of good citizenship from those who are happy just to harvest summer’s richer fruit.