Exclusive | want to live in a 1950s diner? Li home listed for $1. 97m boasts a stunning replica — that took decades to complete

Exclusive | want to live in a 1950s diner? Li home listed for $1. 97m boasts a stunning replica — that took decades to complete


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This home is an escape — and a portal into another era. From the street, 1 School House Court blends in with its stately Long Island neighbors — with a stone façade, classic colonial


symmetry and manicured landscaping in Oyster Bay.  But beneath its traditional exterior lies a playful secret: a full-scale 1950s diner and an Ebbets Field-inspired shrine to baseball’s


golden age. “I guess I’m an old-school type guy who probably wanted to be born in the ’50s,” said homeowner Gus Nunziata, who’s now listing the residence for sale. “But I missed out on that


era, so it’s been fun to recreate it.” EXPLORE MORE Asking $1.97 million with Douglas Elliman’s MaryAnn Clara, the five-bedroom, four-bathroom residence spans 3,752 square feet.  The


interiors are filled with luxury finishes — coffered ceilings, granite countertops and a sunken family room anchored by a towering gas fireplace.  But the real star lies underground. That’s


where visitors are transported into a chrome-trimmed time capsule — complete with black and white-checkered floors, gleaming red booths, neon signs and a fully operational Wurlitzer jukebox


once owned by Jimmy Fallon. Nunziata, 64, has spent more than two decades curating the retro retreat. When he and his wife built the home in 2002, he specifically asked the builder to dig


the foundation deeper to accommodate 10-foot ceilings. “I wanted it to feel like a real floor, not a basement,” he said. From there, the diner slowly took shape — piece by piece. “Once we


got here, everybody would be giving me things that looked like the ’50s, like barber chairs or an old Coke machine,” Nunziata said. “My wife used to joke and ask, ‘What are you going to do


with all this junk?’ And I said, ‘I have a plan.’” That plan evolved into a fully immersive space.  Friends contributed items like a vintage barbershop chair from the Bowery in Manhattan,


still bearing business cards from the early 1900s. Nunziata installed a wraparound bar, vinyl-upholstered stools and a glass display case filled with period candy.  “Some people collect cars


or go gambling,” he said. “This kind of became my hobby.” One of the most sentimental pieces is a Coca-Cola light fixture hanging above the diner’s table area.  “That was actually my


father-in-law’s light that hung in his restaurant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, in the 1950s,” Nunziata said. The space doubles as an entertainment lounge. There’s a movie projector that lowers


from the ceiling for screenings and a pool table surrounded by poker paraphernalia. A mural of the Rat Pack — painted by Nunziata’s sister-in-law — features an extra member: Nunziata


himself, rendered alongside Sinatra and friends. And then there’s the second room — a personal homage to Ebbets Field, home of the Brooklyn Dodgers before their westward move. The walls are


painted to resemble the stadium’s famed scoreboard. There’s even green turf flooring and a home plate to complete the illusion. “I wasn’t around when Ebbets Field was around, but my father


was a Brooklyn Dodgers fan,” Nunziata said. “We’re Mets fans now, but I had all this sports memorabilia from when I was a kid, and I thought, ‘Let me start that game room — my second


passion.’” Over the years, he added salvaged seats from Shea Stadium, Boston Garden and Comiskey Park.  “I joke and say, ‘Hey, turns out the Pope was a fan of the White Sox. He may have sat


in this seat,’” he laughed. True to form, Nunziata built a wooden façade resembling a vintage ticket booth at the room’s entrance. Hanging above it is a sign borrowed from the film “Field of


Dreams”: “If you build it, they will come.” And come they did.  The Nunziatas have hosted everything from themed parties to casual family hangouts in the basement over the years.  “The boys


had multiple parties down there,” Nunziata said of his kids. “Every now and then we’d throw a ’50s party — people would dress up, we’d serve diner food on plastic trays, and I’d even bring


around retro candies from the ’50s and ’60s.” Even among Oyster Bay’s inventory of well-appointed homes, this property stands out for its personal flair and dedication to nostalgia. The


listing still emphasizes the main floor’s entertaining potential: a chef’s kitchen with GE Monogram appliances, a banquet-sized dining room — and a backyard outfitted with a heated saltwater


pool, a stone fireplace, a Traeger smoker-equipped BBQ kitchen and multiple lounge areas, including space for a vegetable garden or a dog run. Upstairs, the primary suite features two


walk-in closets, a sitting area and a spa-style bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and a new shower. The laundry room is conveniently located on the second floor, and additional bedrooms are


spacious and light-filled. But it’s the downstairs that most often steals the show. “Every time somebody comes over, I show them the house and they love it,” Nunziata said. “Then I say,


‘Hey, let me show you the basement,’ and when you take people down there, they’re just blown away. They’re like, ‘Hey, can I come back and bring my mom and dad? My uncle’s a Mets fan — can I


take him to see it?’” With his two sons now grown and out of the house, Nunziata is preparing to downsize. He turns 65 this month and says it’s time to simplify — though the memories are


hard to part with. “If it was up to my wife, we’d live here forever,” he said. “But it’s just time for something smaller.” They’re staying on Long Island, ideally near their sons in


Huntington. The couple also owns a place in Naples, Florida, but their roots remain firmly in New York. As for the future of the diner and field? Nunziata is open to letting it all go with


the house — or dismantling it, piece by piece. “Some of the stuff I’ll pass on to my sons, and I’ll keep a few things for sentimental value,” he said. “But there’s a lot. Thousands and


thousands spent over the years. I don’t even have a specific number in my head.” For now, he’s hoping a like-minded buyer will fall in love with the fantasy he built. “I’m hoping someone


comes in and says, ‘Hey, I’m the type of family that would love to keep that intact,’” Nunziata said. “And that’s great. The legacy will go on.”