York Staters

Strange to Me

2009-03-24T13:19:00.000-04:00

I headed out to the meeting in Albion early. The day features icy early March with patches of sun and promise of snow, though slow to materialize. The superhighway toward, around and away from Rochester is a sort of slingshot, though it gives you miles of suburban landscape sameness.

The meeting itself, after an hours drive, is nothing special, more of the same and before I know it, I’m back in the car.

On the way back the State roads seem like a better idea, so I drive straight south on 98, over waves of ancient shorelines where this or that glacier or glacial lake had thrown a beach. From the dusting of snow overnight, the fields are muted white, gray, tan or white. Crossing the mucklands north of Elba, wisps of steam rising from the flat black fields suggest the surface of a lake.

I hope to find Bill Kauffman at home in Elba. I find his house a block off 98 on Chapel Street and its deep, vibrant yellow seems to hold out the possibility that I’d find him at home, but not so. I walk to his door and tap, then tap again and turn back to my car.

I’d wanted to ask Bill to give me more precise directions to the bookstore in Batavia. In Batavia, I cruise the State highways 98, 5, 33, and 63 in all directions to the edge of town. On my way north on 63 near downtown I see the Pok-A-Dot is open for lunch business. The Pok-A-Dot is a 40s lunch counter, a tent of a building erected for temporary shelter but surviving into a new century. It must be nice in the summer because you can order your food, then sit under shelter off to the side of traffic to eat it up. In the winter, it seems to be made mostly of glass, and everybody crouches over the heat sources at the stove top, grill, and deep fryer. Almost all the patrons are men, and most have their coats and hats still on. All the cooks and servers are women.

In the Pok-A-Dot, there are six or eight tables and a counter seating twelve or fifteen that bends around the grill. I sit at the counter, nearer the heat. The waitress never offers me a menu. She just comes up and says, “What will you have?”

I see someone has an order of onion rings, so I ask for them too. Out, they were out.

I order the health food plate: hotdog, French fries and Pepsi. First, she delivers the Pepsi in a frosted mug that defrosts all over the counter. The hotdog and fries come later, each in a folded paper boat. The fries come with a sharpened stick. I eat my lunch. A guy comes in later and sits beside me. Maybe it’s his usual seat. The waitress doesn’t even ask; she brings him a cup of coffee, then a hotdog garnished with fried onions.

When I pay and am ready to leave, I ask, “Is there bookstore in town?”

The waitress starts to answer, then turns to a customer who’s been reading a book the whole time over a cup of coffee at the counter. I saw him; of course I should have asked him. She asks him for me, “Do we have a bookstore?”

He looks at me; I look at him. He’s about my age, maybe a little heavier and a shade redder in the face. “What kind of books do you want?” he asks.

I say, “Batavia books,” thinking of the novelist John Gardner, who was born here and set Sunlight Dialogues in Batavia, but I couldn’t remember his name. I thought about saying, the guy who wrote about painting L-O-V-E across the Thruway entrance north of town.

But while I was thinking, he asks, “You mean, like Bill, what’s his-name?”

I say, “Yeah, Kauffman. Bill Kauffman.”

He says, “You want Present Tense Books on the corner of Washington and State,” and tells me precisely how to get there. He also suggests the Holland Land Office Museum gift shop as a second choice for historical books about Batavia.

I follow his directions through the corners and lights and drive easily to Present Tense Books but, it being Monday and all, it’s closed.

-by Stephan Lewandowski

Stamford, The Queen of the Catskills

2008-11-27T11:07:00.002-05:00

A few weeks ago, we received an email from Matt from Albany who told us about Stamford, NY (wikipedia). For those who are not from the area, Stamford is a small village in Delaware County east of Oneonta and northwest of the Catskill Park (map). Matt writes:

Prior to the Borscht Belt hotel craze of later years, a "Hotel Era" took place in Stamford between 1883 and 1942. It was where "white" city folks spent their summers

My father grew up there. My aunt is the village historian. That's why I have over 300 scans of postcards from that time & stuck some of them to Google Earth.

Historical Survey: this is just an informal survey & map of the village hotels.

Matt is the webmaster for the Forgotten Faces and Places blog, a neat blog that tries to identify historical postcards and photos. He came to hear about us while researching a photo from the 1910s, apparently the clue that helped him identify the building as the Broome County Courthouse was our post from 2005. I really liked his post of the "Happiest Wedding Party Ever!!", who are probably all depressed-he surmises-because they live in the "Age of Crappy Hats."

We're glad to have been a help and are thrilled to hear back from Matt.

-Jesse
Co-editor

Book Review: Possessions, the History and Uses of Haunting in the Hudson Valley by Judith Richardson

2008-11-25T14:32:00.003-05:00

Richardson's book, Possessions: the History and Uses of Haunting in the Hudson Valley, (2003) from Harvard University Press was suggested to me by a professor who is aware of my interest in the Upstate region and in the uses and interpretation of our history. Rarely do I read a book that is both profound and easy to read, despite weighing in at a hefty 209 pages, Richardson's continual weaving of haunted stories throughout the narrative helped to keep my focus.

The book is more than a collection of ghost tales, it is a reflection on the state of hauntedness itself. Richardson asks, why is the Hudson Valley considered to be haunted? To what purpose are the discussions of ghosts in the social lives of the people of the Hudson Valley, insiders and outsiders?

She does this through a series of chapters. One details the life and influence of Washington Irving and his headless Hessians, ghostly Dutchmen and poor Rip Van Winkle.

A further chapter relfects upon the three hundred year-old haunting of the ghost of Anna Dorothea Swarts, an 18th century servant/slave (there is vagueness here) who was murdered by her master. Utilizing an impressive command of local historical archives, Richardson puts together how Swarts' story has been reconstructed over the past three centuries and how she continues to bring forth repressed memories. Her's is the hidden history of slavery and repression in a land of mansions and patroons

Swart's ghost signifies things hidden in a collective unconscious; she is the martyr and memory of a secret history, recalling, for instance, exploitative and violent systems f servitude that existed in the North, in New York, as well as elsewhere. She represents whole categories of people who have been tucked away from view... (119-120)

While the ghost of Anna Dorothea Swarts may represent a fearsome reassertion of things repressed or unresolved, she also embodies the exact opposite of agency: a servant, female, tied and drawn entirely against her will by a motive force that is not her own. (122)

She moves on to discuss different genres of ghosts-ancestral ghosts of Indians and the Dutch, Revolutionary War Ghosts and phantasms of industrial workers-and how different populations of the Valley have engaged these ghosts, seen something of their own engagement (or lack thereof) witht he history of the land in them.

She finishes with a discussion of High Tor, a mountain that is currently at the heart of High Tor State Park. She shows how a 1930s play of the same name, (a Pulitzer prize-winning script by Maxwell Anderson), was used to spark interest in the history and conservation of the peak. Anderson utilizes numerous ghosts, especially native peoples and the Dutch, torture the agents of a mining company seeking to buy up the rock from its last owner. "These realizations of hauntings-the actual work done by haunting in the material world-constitute a politics of possession." (193)

I am always concerned with the silencing of local voices through the use of environmental and conservation rhetorics, a situation that is most exacerbated in the Hudson Valley and within the Adirondack Park. To her great credit, Richardson recognizes this problem and discusses the flooding of Catskill villages to create reservoirs and the annhilation of towns to build state parks. She cautions that

...the casting of people as 'folk,' even as it seems to place value on them as the source of tradition, also tends to mute their contemporary social and political voice by suggesting that their significance lies int he past rather than in the present. (197-198)

Through all of these examples, Richardson shows a nuanced understanding of the place of ghosts and this distinctive, haunted landscape. The book is an excellent addition to any Yorkstaters' reading list. Near the end, she sums up the continued haunting as an expression of our dislocation from history and landscape. The Hudson Valley has

...a legacy of haunting based in a series of contentions over territory and culture-a legacy that continues to reflect on an original sin of colonial dispossession but that gains material and emphasis from whole series of subsequent events. It echoes the enduring problems of rights and possession. The question 'who gives you the right?' is posed more than once to a settler on the unlucky ground, without satisfactory response. (207-208)

-Jesse

Upstate Music: Scissor Proof Records

2008-11-18T14:49:00.003-05:00

Opening up our email account, I found the following amusing email:

Hello,
I feel the need to let you in on a little secret of York State musical lore. There is a rap group, Otzi's Axe, that perform music inspired soley by their rustic upstate surroundings in the 315 area code. All three bearded madmen of the group are proud lifelong residents of the coastal plain between Lake Ontario and the Tug Hill Plateau. Their subject manner includes: drinking homebrew, chopping wood, and pure upstate living. Check out their bio on the site below. Also, they are part of the Scissor Proof collective which is a loose group of other musicians who representing upstate (although Otzi is the only rap group)

Otzi's Axe: www.scissorproofrecords.com

I am so glad that your site exists. I just found it tonight. Keep up the great work.

-cobweb

As a fan of drinking homebrew, chopping wood and references to obscure archaeological relics (Otzi the Iceman, and his axe, were found in a glacier in the Alps in 1991, click here for cool pictures), I'm passing this info on to you, our good readers. Their website claims that Scissor Proof records is the only "solar powered record label" in New York, a claim which might be true. They've got a few mp3s on their site, you can check them out for yourself to hear what three bearded, woodchopping Tug Hillians might sound like if they made rap music.

If you have some element of Upstate living you'd like to share or a post you'd like us to put up, we welcome all submissions to our email address: york.staters[at]gmail[dot]com. You might want to check out our simple submissions guidelines and our mission statement. Basically, we put most everything having to do with Upstate New York (so, please no more emails on the Manhatten clubbing scene or art openings in the Bronx). Also, don't be afraid to comment, send us quotes for our quote board or your favorite books for our book list.

We look forward to hearing from you.
-Jesse
Co Editor

Journey to Onondaga

2008-11-15T19:37:00.002-05:00

This morning, I pulled off the exit from Route 81 for “Nedrow/Onondaga Nation Territory” in a gray haze and light rain. At the same time as I left the highway, I also left the sovereign state of New York and entered the sovereign territory of the Onondaga people. With me were four of my friends all of whom were from overseas (Colombia, India and Vietnam) and had an interest in getting outside of Syracuse for a bit.

I crossed the street at the bottom of the ramp and pulled into the parking lot for the Firekeepers Diner. The large restaurant was visible from the highway and I had always meant to make a stop but never found myself there until today. On a clear day, you can see the infamous, Route 81 billboard with one side that reads “We the Indigenous Peoples Own the Western Hemisphere” and the other, now painted over, had an anti-Albany diatribe on it.

The existence of these crudely painted billboards reminded me that this little patch of land is fundamentally different than the rest of New York. I, a white citizen of the United States am able to walk this state and more or less feel that I belong. But on Onondaga, I always have a nagging reminder that this land belongs to another people, another culture. Moreover, I remember that the rest of the state, where I tread with such comfort and ease, was once the same before it was stolen through violence and betrayal. It’s a thought that’s sat in the pit of my stomach all day.

Firekeepers is decent as far as diners go. The portions were absurdly large and cheap, though not of incredibly high quality; I reflected a bit on the ongoing battle with obesity and diabetes on the Reservation as I vainly attempted to eat three pancakes bigger than my head and thicker than my thumb. The atmosphere is homey and warm inside, though the aspect that struck me the most was one I don’t often think about: the smoking section.

New York, of course, banned indoor smoking several years ago, but the Onondaga (like all sovereign indigenous nations) are governed by their own set of laws. I don’t often leave Central New York and was taken back a bit as I walked through the large smoking section to the non-smoking room in the back.

Driving north along Route 11 from the Firekeepers we came to three buildings clustered at the edge of Onondaga Territory. One, with a large Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Flag on the roof was unlabeled, but I believe it is the factory that produces many of the cigarettes sold on the Nation. This factory is a product of an ongoing battle between the state of New York, the Haudenosaunee and the convenience store lobby in Albany.

Past the factory is a huge indoor lacrosse and hockey arena and beyond that the Smoke Shop. We pulled up to the Smoke Shop, a bustling place which included a drive-thru line. Inside, the walls were stacked to the ceiling with cheap cigarettes, loose tobacco and cigars (including Cubans… I wonder what the story behind them is). The draw is that New York cigarette taxes do not apply here. This is not a case of New York giving a “tax-exempt” status to the Onondaga out of charity, but because the laws of New York do not apply here.

The constant gripe amongst the anti-Indian community is that “Indians don’t pay taxes” or “Indians get special privileges” doesn’t understand that Indian nations have their own governments. They don’t pay New York taxes (provided they live and work on the Reservation) just as I don’t pay Onondaga or Canadian taxes. Indian “special privileges” (such as non-taxed cigarettes) are actually the rights of sovereign nations: the government of New York has decided to tax cigarettes and the government of Onondaga has decided not to.

The Smoke Shop sits at the center of the Onondaga economy, it funds health care, infrastructure, economic development, environmental activism and the basic governmental apparatus. For a people who on ethical and religious grounds forbid gambling and alcohol and who reject handouts from the Federal Government, the sale of tobacco is a deeply troubling, absolutely necessary lifeline.

This is a hot controversy, especially with Gov. Patterson seeking to cut budgets and find money anywhere possible. The State of New York has been seeking to stop smoke shops for years, recently arresting a woman returning home with a car full of cigarettes for not paying taxes.

Are there easy answers here? Should New York have the right to tax its own citizens buying products on another state’s territory? Should the Onondaga economy be based off of selling poison to their fellow Central New Yorkers? What responsibility do those of us who walk with ease upon the lands surrounding Onondaga have to right the wrongs of the past? Does anyone have the right to extinguish the economic foundation of a community, any community?

As I drove out of Onondaga, into Nedrow and back to Syracuse, I was unable to answer but I did know one thing. The citizens of Upstate New York and the Haudenosaunee League are neighbors and we share this beautiful land.

-by Jesse

NY Progressives have more options than just the Democrats

2008-11-02T14:54:00.004-05:00

Folks concerned with the Conservativism of the Bush years have much to be excited about today with the impending election of Democrat Barack Obama. Sitting in the Democratic stronghold of urban Syracuse, one cannot help but feel the excitement and energy.

But, I want to ask: is it the case that, as the Democratic partisans say, voting for Barack Obama on the Democratic line is the only option and that doing anything else would be tantamount to voting for John McCain? I would like to point out two distinct New York options that may allow us to make a stronger point with our votes that won’t affect the chances of Mr. Obama’s success.

It does not hurt to point out that we work in a winner-take-all Electoral College system. I am firmly opposed to this form of elections, but, since that’s the way the system works at this particular moment, we have to work with what we’ve got.

Here in Upstate New York, we are attached at the hip to the great City of New York. As such, we have gone Democratic in every presidential election since 1984 when Walter Mondale only won Minnesota. In the infamous 2000 election, Ralph Nader received 3.58% of the vote in New York (compared to his national average of 2.7%) and Al Gore still carried New York with 60.21% of the vote (compared to 35.23% for Bush!). That comes out to a little less than 2 million more votes. Even here in Onondaga County, where Bush garnered 41.1% of the vote and Nader 3.8%, Gore still won an absolute majority of 54.0%!! Source

This election promises to be even more heavily dominated locally by the Democratic Party. Simply put, this frees us liberally-minded folk to follow our dreams not our fears.

Why vote Nader-Gonzalez? I have chosen to cast my vote with them over Barack Obama for a few reasons.

(1) A key cornerstone of this campaign has been election reform. More than just new voting machines, we’re talking about reformulating our antiquated system of winner-take-all elections to utilize the more democratic forms of elections. Americans are deeply disenchanted with the two party system (just look at the number of independents) and its time we open the door to other options like they do in every European country, our Canadian neighbors and in much of the rest of the world.
(2)The Nader-Gonzalez Campaign, unlike that of Obama (who supports unilateral attacks on Pakistan, for instance) is against Neo-imperial policies of the United States, both economically and militarily. Where are the criticisms of the brutality of the World Bank, IMF and similar agencies in the mainstream debate?
(3)Their campaign, further, has approached our economic crisis by saying that we need to aid the American people, not Wall Street bankers. Moreover, they know that a strong labor movement is the only way to protect working people

I favor the Nader-Gonzalez campaign over that of the similar policies of Cynthia McKinney and Rosa Clemente because of the wider public acknowledgement of Nader and what he stands for. It appears that Nader will garner his largest electoral support yet and this will give a strong message to those in power that these issues will not go away, no matter how many inspiring speeches one gives about ‘hope’.

That is the real power of a Nader-Gonzalez vote. It states that Leftist politics are here to stay and that there are fundamental problems with the two party system itself that cannot be solved by any candidate from within them.

For those who have problems with Nader-Gonzalez, McKinney-Clemente, who want to vote Obama-Biden but want to send a direct message, we are fortunate here in New York to benefit from fusion voting. In a fusion system, a candidate can be endorsed by numerous parties and when the votes are tallied, votes from different party lines are added together to come to the total for the candidate.

This means that little parties, such as the Liberals, Right-to-Life and Working Families can make a difference by courting voters around a specific set of issues. By voting for Barack Obama (for example) on the Working Families line (“Working Families Party Endorses Barack Obama"), your vote still “counts” but you are sending a message that the issues of the WF party are those that you share—you are not some mythical “centralist” “swing” voter who can be courted by moving the Democratic position to the Right.

The Working Families Party—who will be getting my vote on a number of local candidates—support many progressive issues glossed over by the Democrats including:

(1)Public Transportation
(2)Single Payer, Universal Health Care and Paid Family Leave
(3)Clean Elections through Public Financing

In previous years, I have made a point of not voting and making my reasons for doing so known on this blog (Here’s the 2006 statement I made). While I do not regret those decisions in previous years, I do plan on voting come Tuesday. However, I hope that I’ve shown that there are numerous options to make a more pointed statement with your vote, to say more through your ballot.

-by Jesse

Paterson calls for the privatization of public goods

2008-10-07T23:56:00.004-04:00

On September 30th Governor Paterson announced the creation of a new commission to study the potential for what are known as “public-private partnerships” here in our great state of New York. The Governor claims that this is for the economic crisis, though truth be told he called for the same thing on April 22nd claiming it would help the Upstate economy. This sounds pretty good at first glance, since everybody likes a “partnership,” which my desk dictionary defines as “a relationship between individuals or groups that is characterized by mutual cooperation and responsibility, as for the achievement of a specified goal” (American Heritage).

This doesn’t seem too bad, after all in these dark economic times we need more cooperation, more responsibility, more people working not for their own benefit but draw our society (in truth, our world) out of the hole that unregulated greed has drawn us all into. After all, the NY business community immediately threw in their support.

Yet names do not simply describe, but often serve the purposes of the namer. What is a private-public partnership and what does it do?

Basically, the Governor wants to take State assets—such as bridges, roads, state parks, or the Lottery—and either lease them to private companies or sell them outright on the promise that they will be “leased back” immediately to the State. The Governor says that he believes that

the private sector can be a source of innovation, allowing us to increase the value, efficiency and safety of assets like our aging infrastructure system

Lets address these points and look at them in the light of both the recent global economic crisis and the decades-old Upstate economic crisis. Is selling or renting our parks and roads the answer?

The first claim of the Governor’s I want to address is efficiency. Without a doubt, there is considerable redundancy and inefficiency in our State governments. Much could be done in particular to reorganize local governments so that services do not overlap; this would probably aid in making local government easier to understand and more accountable as well. But what type of efficiency is Gov. Paterson talking about? Sure there are some structural efficiencies that can be improved—but that does not require a private business, only an improvement in the management of State agencies. And the Big Dig shows us that private enterprise isn’t always efficient, cheap or safe. But really what they’re talking about here is State jobs.

Private businesses, simply put, save money because they pay people less.

They don’t (generally speaking) have good paying, well protected, union employees. If we’re worrying about an economic crisis these are exactly the type of jobs that need to be protected first and foremost. We don’t need more minimum wage jobs here in Upstate New York. We don’t need any more jobs without health benefits or paid vacations or protections… we certainly don’t need those few good jobs we have being replaced.

Secondly, Paterson speaks of increasing value. The question is “value to who?” The value of sale? Are we planning on selling our roads and parks? State assets are not owned as business assets are and our elected officials are not a corporate board. The fundamental difference is that the only value business assets have is in how much profit they can generate while the only value public assets have is in how much benefit they can give to society and its citizens. It is exactly this type of value that we need to be pursuing here now, as we are pulled down we need to be talking about how our government assets can be a buffer to help people through hard times.

If businesses are to make profit, value, from state assets they must fundamentally change their orientation from public benefit to private profit. This will, as Governor Paterson attests, involve innovation, but it will be innovation that changes the character of these assets. In order to make profit and also pay rent to the State, profit must be ground out of these assets—and if it does not come from cutting union jobs it will come from making us, the citizens and owners of these assets, pay for services that we have never had to pay for before. What was previously the right of all citizens will become the privilege of those who can pay.

Finally, the Governor claims that safety will increase. This is a vague term, but since we’re talking about infrastructure here, he is probably referring to making it so our bridges don’t collapse and the like. This is of crucial importance and I am glad the Governor is concerned about it. But why exactly will privatization make us more safe? This is a strong claim, and I need to know why taking our safety from the hands of those we elected (and who are nominally accountable) and putting it in the hands of those trying to make a profit is a good idea. Safety is important, but do we need to lease our assets, to privatize what was public to do it? Is this the best way of making our society better?

In the end, we need to remember the simple fact that the private and public sectors have fundamentally different motivations. The private sector has a single, driving goal: profit for its owners and managers. While some companies temper this profit drive with ethical concerns, they are not required to do so (especially in this increasingly unregulated society) and the benefits of unethical actions are numerous. The public sector, while it has its problems, is fundamentally oriented in a different direction. While individual bureaucrats may be corrupt and self-serving, governmental agencies are organized around the principle of public benefit not private profit.

Our decades-long Upstate economic crisis continues and continues to spiral downward as the global economy sinks. It was deregulation, greed and a lack of foresight that brought us here. All that Governor Paterson offers us is more of the same: more profits to corporations outside the Upstate region, more union jobs cut, fewer people with healthcare and a continued decay of public services that we will all come to rely upon more and more in the coming days.

What we need now is a bold vision for the future, not more of the same. Yes we need to talk about efficiency, safety, value and most especially innovation, but private enterprise is not the path in which we need to go.

-Jesse

Sainte Marie Among the Iroquois: Thoughts on a Historic Site

2008-09-27T19:25:00.003-04:00

We have often discussed history and its interpretation on this blog. The analysis of historic sites has not always been favorable (such as my discussion of the FDR house and the Wilderstein House). I’m happy to say that today I visited Sainte Marie Among the Iroquois, a historic site between Liverpool and Syracuse and—despite my fears—was impressed by the quality of the historic interpretation.

Sainte Marie Among the Iroquois is a reconstruction of a small French fort/mission post/diplomatic station that existed on the shores of Onondaga Lake from 1656-1658. The fort itself was part of an ongoing struggle for the control of the Great Lakes basin. The Iroquois Confederacy was at the height of its power, having just defeated its rival, the Huron Confederacy in 1650, followed by victories over the Erie, Susquehannocks and the Neutrals in the early-1650s. This is important to note as there is an idea that native peoples inevitably decline after European contact falters when we look at the Iroquois, whose power only grew for a century after European contact.

The French, on the other hand, had lost their trading partners (the Huron, Erie and Neutrals) and were therefore cut off from supplies of furs (in fact, as a result their corporate government collapsed in the early 1660s). Mohawks were raiding deep into New France and for a period of time blockaded the city of Quebec itself. The creation of the post on Onondaga Lake was a move to circumvent the Mohawks and deal directly with the Council of the Confederacy. The fact that the French abandoned the site so quickly in 1658 that they left behind even their tools shows the fragility of the French presence. For a chronology of the 17th century wars, check out this website.

I approached Sainte Marie today with some trepidation, having heard from some friends that visited as children that it didn’t provide a profoundly deep understanding of its context and was quite Eurocentric. While this may be true of the original fort site, the addition of a modern museum had done wonders to the site. While it may have portrayed the Jesuit missionaries in a particularly good light, I have to commend the site for giving context to the place of Sainte Marie in the little-told stories of the imperial wars of the 17th century (with the French, Dutch and Iroquois empires being the dominant players) and for providing a place for the Iroquois. The native peoples are not “folklorized” (for comments on the negative sides of folklore, check out this site), but are shown as economic and political players, the Iroquois Confederacy and its constituent nations are shown as actives participant in these struggles and the lifeways of both peoples (Iroquois and French) are shown side-by-side. This is an important, but little discussed period of North American (and Upstate) history and Sainte Marie has placed itself well to interpret it to the public, an admirable goal.

The fort itself was a bit run-down in a few places (the paper signs were disintegrating and some of the walls had seen better days), but the interpreters were fantastic. I traveled with my partner and her 10-year-old son and the re-enactors gave him personal attention, allowing him to try all sorts of tools and describe how day-to-day life was in a frontier fort. This was probably possible because it was a wet day and there were few guests, but we still appreciated their enthusiasm and knowledge.

I highly encourage a visit to Sainte Marie among the Iroquois. The site is open yearly on weekdays from 9am to 3pm and until mid-October on the weekends from 12-5pm. Admission is highly affordable, $3 for adults, $2.50 for seniors, $2 for children and kids under 5 for free; moreover, there is a $10 family rate. After mid-October, admission is free, though donations are accepted. Here is a map on how to get there.

As a side note, I found an interesting little essay of alternative history that asks, “what would have happened if the Hurons won the wars of 1648-1650”? Interesting reading for the student of Upstate History. For another link, here is a perspective on the Iroquois from the view of New France, from the Quebec History Encyclopedia.

-Jesse

What could make someone want to leave New York and move to Buffalo?

2008-09-02T10:37:00.004-04:00

A few days ago, New York Magazine featured an article about a young couple who abandons Brooklyn to move to Buffalo. New York Magazine has always been a publication in love with its city, and that's something I can respect, and I was pleased that the article moved from a position of "why are these people so crazy" to one more like "ok, I can understand this." They also have a great shout-out to Buffalo Rising.

I'd be interested to hear other people's thoughts on the article, I myself was troubled when they referred to Buffalo as "a kinder, cheaper, easier, more manageable mini-New York." Buffalo (and you could insert most any Upstate post-industrial city) is not a mini-NYC (which is part of their appeal to many) and moreover, is more than a cheap place to rent for New Yorkers who can telecommute.

I welcome people to come back and move into our semi-abandoned cities, though I become worried at articles like these which have no problem with the idea of hordes of New Yorkers snatching up every "creative class" job, driving up urban rent prices and thereby reinforcing the cycles of poverty in which so many Upstate families are entrapped. One factor the article's author didn't note was that Buffalo Homecoming, an event he visited, is aimed at bringing back those who have left and want to come home, not just anyone who wants cheap rent.

So, my message to folks look up the Hudson, is: yes, come on up, enjoy the cheap rents (and the cheap beer), the beautiful fall colors and the human-sized communities, we could use your help in getting ourselves back on our feet. But please don't come up and assume that this is a mini-New York and, more importantly, recognize that living here is more than a commitment to cheap rents, it's a commitment to bettering your adopted home.

-Jesse

Stops Along the Way #4: Case Road in Broome County

2008-08-31T10:05:00.002-04:00

One’s first driving experiences have the potential of being tremendously profound. Raised in protective households, often in homes isolated even from their neighbors deep in the suburbs, for many young people driving is their first experience of being beyond the monolithic eyes of family and school. As I write this, I know that many readers imaginations will immediately turn to late-night parties, but I mean a type of liberation that is more subtle and more profound. It is the chance to experience the world on ones own terms.

A decade ago, soon after I received my license, I was driving home on an early summer evening up Case Road from Robinson Hill Road in the Town of Union (in Broome County). I was taking the long way home from some activity just because, well when you’re the driver you can do things like that and I wanted to savor the freedom of curves on dark country roads.

As I turned up Case Road, I was passing a pasture on my left and something made me stop. I pulled the car over on the shoulder by the ditch and got out. I looked out over the pasture and I remember the scene, it has been seared into my memory. Beyond the barbed wire fence, mist curled over the rough field (they’re never as level as a yard) and around the feet of sleeping cows. Beyond there was a dark line of trees and above that was an incredible yellow moon, one of the largest I have ever seen, hanging in the air. Sixteen year-olds rarely have the vocabulary of beauty and the mystical to properly describe such moments and even today I struggle to put it into words. I do know that the Romantic poets had a concept of the “sublime,” an experience with the nature that was not the loveliness and congeniality of beauty but instead the encounter with the empowering spirit of the world. It is not a pleasant experience, but a shaking one, something akin to the Old Testament prophet who hides from the Word of God.

While I can not now, and perhaps will never be able to, properly describe my experience on Case Road that night, I do know that whenever I pass that pasture—usually in the light of the day—I slow down for a moment and reflect.

-Jesse

Stops Along the Way, is a column created to highlight those places in the paths of our lives where we pause. These are the little spots in life where we rest for a moment, gain knowledge, joy or assistance before continuing upon our myriad of journeys. These places are not destinations in the proper sense of the word, but are the planned or unintented links in the chain that makes up a trip.

“Stops along the Way” celebrates the journey itself and hopes to call into question the goal-driven values that speed up and depersonalize our lives. Instead it promotes a view of life as a process—one in which we do not always have a goal in mind and never know the fully control the direction of.

To submit your Stops along the Way, please email us at york.staters (at) gmail (dot) com. Please feel free to visit our Mission Statement and Submission Guidelines with any of your questions. We look forward to hearing from you.

Taste of the Region #15: (U-Pick) Blueberry Jam in 10 easy steps

2008-08-23T15:35:00.000-04:00

It is blueberry season and the group expedition to the bushes is an old Northeastern tradition. In Ralph Waldo Emerson's eulogy for Henry David Thoreau, he claimed that “he had no greater aspiration than to be captain of a huckleberry party.” Of course, it's sometimes easier to collect berries than it is to eat them before they go bad. Blueberries freeze relatively well, but one of the finest ways to keep them is in the form of blueberry jam.

The following recipie for simple blueberry jam is based on one from my housemate Zay, who got it from her grandmother. She calls it "blueberry crack" for its addictive sweetness and I'll swear by its deliciousness. After the recipie are resources for more information about canning and how to find a u-pick farm near you. For the more adventurous, here is a guide to finding wild blueberries. Good luck!
-Jesse

Ingredients
Blueberries 4 c.
Lemon Juice 2 tbsp.
Sugar 4 c. (this can vary, see below)
Pectin 1 pkg

Supplies (details here)
Jar Funnel
Jar Grabber
Large Pot (16-20 quart)
Large spoons and ladles
1 canner (a huge pot used to sterilize the jars)
Mason jars, lids and rings (note that jars and rings may be reused by not lids)

1. When choosing blueberries, remember “garbage in, garbage out.” If you won’t eat it now, it won’t get any better if put into jam and can in fact ruin an otherwise good jar. Wash and sort your blueberries, removing stems, rotten and un-ripened berries
2. Sterilize your jars, either by using the “sterilize” function on a dishwasher, or by washing them in hot soapy water and then boiling the jars for 10 minutes and keeping them hot until used (you can do this by putting them upside down on a clean cloth or keeping them in a dishwasher set at “heated dry.”
3. Heat the lids (to make the glue gummy) in boiling water for a few minutes and then keep them warm.
4. Crush your berries, either with a potato masher or in a food processor.
5. Prepare your pectin (if you’re using dry, instructions are on the box) or just mix in liquid pectin.
6. Bring blueberries, pectin and lemon juice to boil.
7. Add sugar. Check your box of pectin to determine how much sugar is appropriate. You can also substitute juice (such as apple, grape, peach) at a little less than half your suggested sugar amount.
8. Bring back to a hard boil for 1 minute.
9. Test the jam—does it stick to a spoon like jam should?—if so, you’re done, if not add a bit more pectin and repeat steps 8 and 9.
10. Fill the jars up to a ¼ of an inch from the top and wipe off any spillage on the rim. Put them into boiling water of the canner. Keep them in the boiler at least 5 minutes, check your pectin box for more instructions.

Remove the jars and let them cool. Your jam is done!

For spiced jam add 1/4 teaspoon each cinnamon, cloves and allspice to fruit along with lemon juice.

Recipes
Simple recipe
Detailed instructions for jam making
Variant recipes
Sugarless recipe

Canning Resources
How do I can? from the National Center For Home Food Preservation
USDA Complete Guide to Home Canning

Upstate U-Pick Farms
A nice, regionally-organized list of blueberry u-picks
New York-wide List (scroll down, it's a pretty short list)
Finger Lakes U-Pick
Central New York U-Pick

Young Naturalist

2008-08-13T13:58:00.000-04:00

Every child goes through a “bug phase.” Mine far outlasted brief forays into stamps, dinosaurs, fossils, rocks and minerals, though I still have a “Herkimer diamond” from that period. In my pre-teen years, I invested heavily in baseball cards, collecting not just individual heroes like Stan the Man or favorite teams like the Dodgers but complete annual sets. I remember the thrill of trading for a Solly Hemus that completed the 1958 set.

Some would claim that my fascination and involvement with stream life clearly indicates that my bug phase endures to this day. Others, less charitable, seeing a foray with a Cub Scout Pack poking with sticks in the muddy bottom and taking the occasional soaker, would walk away muttering something about arrested development.

My bug phase was supremely unscientific. Though immersive, it had its limits. Even at its height, I was deathly afraid of spiders. Let the fearless scoff, but my autonomic nervous system would fairly shriek in the presence of a little baby spider. Of course, the worst place in the world for a person fearful of spiders is a lakeside cottage.

The porches, railings, stairs, windows and shutters of the cottage were festooned with webs to trap the gnats and flies hatching in clouds off the stream and lake. Thousands of spiders guarded and worked these meshes, especially active in the evenings when the cottage lights attracted moths and craneflies to the snares in the windows. My fear wasn’t lessened by watching spiders at work biting and wrapping their prey. I wondered how THAT would feel. Even worse, the dark corners of the cottage’s kitchen and dining room seemed to spawn huge hunting spiders whose size was augmented by the shadows. I mean, they not only inhabited the shadows but were big enough to cast their own.

My reaction to spiders was so strong that I wouldn’t willingly share the same room, car or boat with a spider. Every time we took the boat out to go fishing on the lake, there were lots of spiders under the seats, in the oarlocks and under the gunnels. Knowing what was coming, my uncles would sweep the boat out with a broom, but when a spider was found, it was a good question whether I’d stay inboard long enough for the tiny, inoffensive spider to be flipped over the side. I was very careful where I put my hands during these fishing trips.

Across the creek and north along the shore, our neighbors were the Bishops. Sherman “Doc” Bishop was a gentle biologist and naturalist employed by the University of Rochester. His speciality was herpetology, and his book on the salamanders of New York originally published in the 40s has been kept in print to this day. His wife’s family had owned cottages on Canandaigua Lake for generations.

Doc Bishop died young, in his fifties, when I was four years old, but I remember him well. I don’t remember his face. Though I’ve seen many photographs of him, I don’t recognize him that way. I couldn’t pick his face out of a crowd. It was his hands I knew.

The porch railings, old wooden bridge over the creek, and dock pilings provided the large open spaces favored by the large, orb-weaving spiders late in the season. Doc was fascinated by the orb-weavers. Their intricate webs would shimmer in the early morning sun as they caught a breeze off the lake. I remember him plucking the bulbous bodies of the female spiders from their webs, like you’d pick a fruit. He would caress them with his thumb and, holding them in the palm of his hand, hold out his hand to me, to introduce us.

-by Stephen Lewandowski

I’m Sick of the Color Green, or, Why the Carousel Mall can never be Eco-Friendly.

2008-08-09T12:56:00.002-04:00

If you’ve taken a walk through the Carousel Mall in Syracuse at any time in the past year, you’ll have noticed that it’s been green-ified. Exploiting its captive audience of shoppers to the greatest extent possible, the people that own Carousel have been shamelessly selling the proposed expansion and ‘greenification’. Posters hang from every wall, an interactive map sits at the bottom of the atrium and everything from railings to walls have been painted varying shades of green. I didn’t know ‘going green’ was meant to be taken so literally.

The people of Syracuse are ambivalent on the subject. For some, the expansion of the mall means jobs and that’s what Syracuse needs. For others, the Mall is an example of the increasing popularity of green ideology: one friend explained to me how the ‘common people’ need to be educated by corporations about the importance of the environment. Perhaps he saw the Carousel Mall as some sort of modern Rachel Carson. Of course there are those who see Carousel with a bit more skepticism.

As someone concerned not only about the environment, but also the state of our local communities, the domination of corporations on our political, economic and social lives, and the broader cause of social justice, I find Carousel Mall’s turn towards green to be infuriating. Why?

Because a mall can never be green.

Never.

Even if they build everything from penthouse suites to urinals out of recycled toothpaste containers and power their buildings by organic, free-range, cruelty-free hamsters running on little wheels for union wages. Why?

1. Malls emerged out of a car-culture and a car-economy. At the heart of the Carousel people’s promise to economic transformation is that it will bring in business from around the northeast. Of course, the assumption is that they will drive to Central New York. No matter how many solar panels they put on the roof, the are still built off of a gas-devouring culture of automobiles and highways.

2. Malls Centralize Production. A walk through Carousel sees most of the same stores one sees in malls in Massachusetts, Florida, California and Hawai’i. The stuff inside them are almost universally produced in places across oceans and borders. Everything in that mall is shipped there, often thousands of miles. If Carousel Mall were to be truly green, they would be talking about building a Gap factory in one of the city's many brownfields.

3. Malls are artificial places. Carousel claims that it will build a miniature Italian summer in its expanded grounds. Now, like all Central New Yorkers, during the winter I wouldn’t mind occasionally jumping into Florence in June. Especially when I’m shoveling and snow has gotten into my boots. But to actually reproduce it under a bubble is an unsustainable project. Part of being green is not just consuming green stuff, but in making our lives line up better with the natural cycles that surround us. The attempt to completely control our environments—through means like jacked-up AC, anti-biotic sprays—has caused innumerable problems (like summer brownouts and superbacteria resistant to anti-biotics) while never giving us the control we desire. Carousel is not only continuing this trend but ramping it up a notch with its promises of utopian summers in a CNY winter.

The key here is the idea that green-ness does not exist only at the point of sale. The things we buy in a mall have histories before they ever arrive at the store. The materials they were produced out of were extracted from some natural resource, which was then transported to be processed somewhere else which was then transported to be turned into a product somewhere else, which was then transported to a distribution center which was then transported to the mall. Malls are absolutely crucial in reproducing that type of economics and this is something that the Carousel Mall can never escape from, its built into its very fabric.

When I make this argument, my friends will often say, “but why make such a big deal, isn’t what Carousel is doing better than nothing?” The great religious teachers know that false piety is more dangerous to a faith than blasphemy: after all Jesus stood up to the pompous priests of his own faith, not the oracles of the Roman gods. When Carousel claims to be green it makes it more difficult for people to separate out what ‘green’ means. Carousel sucks at public monies set aside for green projects, cutting the supports out of real eco-friendly ideas. Moreover, it makes people complacent: “Carousel Mall’s green now, we don’t need to change other things.” Finally it distracts the energies of the people who are protesting it (such as this essay) who should be working on more productive tasks than attacking a mall expansion.

-Jesse

Growing Roots

2008-01-15T23:44:00.000-05:00

It had been a poor year for fishing, so the game warden, Ben White, could scarcely believe his eyes when Old Jack walked into the bait shop on City Pier with a string of huge fish. Old Jack had caught his limit for almost every kind of fish going. Must have been sixty pounds of fish there.

Ben said, “Well, I’ll be damned, Jack, that’s quite a catch. Haven’t seen many fish this season, but you being an old hand on the lake, you must know the right spots and what they’re feeding on.”

Old Jack said, “Yep.”

Ben asked, “I haven’t caught a fish for weeks. I’d sure like a nice bass to take home to the wife tonight. Suppose you could show me how to get one?”

Old Jack said, “Yep.”

They got into Old Jack’s boat and buzzed down the lake a couple miles. At Stony Island, Old Jack stopped, anchored the boat, then reached under his seat and pulled out a stick of dynamite. Lighting it off his cigar, he tossed it over the side. Ka-whump! Fish floated to the surface and Jack used the net to haul them in, all kinds.

Ben was flabbergasted. “I been a game warden for twenty years, and you been fishing this lake twice that. You know that ain’t legal, Jack. I’m going to have to take you in.”

Old Jack turned halfway in his seat, fished out another stick of dynamite, lit the fuse on his cigar and handed it to Ben.

“Well,” he said, “you come to fish or talk.”

***

Who Are You?

The poacher takes game outside the law. It should be clear from my name that I have no special license to use Native American materials for my own purposes in my writing, yet I do. My lineage consists of some lately arrived folks (from Poland to Chicago in 1911) and some early arrivals (from Scotland to Virgil, NY in 1800), with that scant hundred years making the difference between early and late. But what’s more important than early or late, this race or that, are the roots that I’ve put down into this place, as an individual, as part of a family that’s been in one place for two hundred years, and as part of family that knows how it feels to tear loose those roots and live as strangers.

Given a choice, I’d speak of myself as a peasant. Village people living close to the land still exist in the world; they even hang on here in America despite the erosion caused by the mechanical material culture and intrusive media. Some people might question whether it’s possible to choose to be a peasant; they ask if choice and peasantry aren’t mutually exclusive terms. However, I made my choice to live in this place, to stay close to my roots, raise my own food and cut my own wood for heat, and to pay attention to what I learn from living this way. Can I be a peasant?

Peasants were traditionally part of the land itself. When property was sold, they went along with the deal. Peasants learned early their kinship to the native flora and fauna. Owned in much the same way, trees, animals and peasants existed on sufferance as part of a lord’s domain. Peasants took game and firewood stealthily, without license or legal claim other than that of need, availability, and skill.

I approach writing as a poacher, and if caught writing without a license can only claim that the stories came to me. I look around and keep my ears open. I read landscapes, watersheds, maps and books, and poems and stories come to me from attention, study and contemplation. I know you’ve overheard someone say a poem more than once, but if you weren’t quick enough to write it down, I was.

I’ve always wondered if the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) way-of-life wasn’t formed by their reading of the upstate New York landscape. I wonder, too, if by paying close attention to the same patterns and cycles, our lives wouldn’t take a shape like theirs. My writing was poached from others’ land and lives. I admit to listening. I took them, and I’m not sorry. But I didn’t take them for myself alone- here are some for you.

***

Ganondagan
Ganondagan State Historic Site is a piece of land, roughly 550 acres in extent and comprising two adjacent hilltops in the Town of Victor, at the northwest corner of Ontario County, NY. It is the only historic site in New York dedicated specifically to the interpretation of life of the aboriginal people of New York, who called themselves the Onundawaga, or People of the Great Hill, and were called by others the Seneca of the Iroquois Confederacy.

Ganondagan was the site of a large Seneca village destroyed by a French military expedition that crossed Lake Ontario for that express purpose in 1687. Historians and archaeologists value Ganondagan for its strict provenance, as artifacts found there can be dated between its 1655 founding and its 1687 destruction.

The word Ganondagan itself denotes a place of habitation, with a reference to “the essence of white,” which some have attributed to a profusion of wild plum blossoms and others ascribe to its history in aboriginal peace-making. Ganondagan is reputed to be the burial place of the woman who first accepted the Gaiwiio, teachings translated as the Good Mind, brought by the peacemakers who founded the confederacy of groups known as Haudenosaunee, “longhouse people” or Iroquois.

The development of Ganondagan as a State Historic Site is particularly striking for the direct involvement of modern Onundawaga in its acquisition, management, and interpretation. The educational goals of Ganondagan State Historic Site are trifold: to interpret the seventeenth century life of the Onundawaga, to celebrate the peace-making impulse and its fruits, and to act as a center of modern Onundawaga culture.

Ganondagan was dedicated as a park and cultural center three hundred years to the day after its destruction by the French and their allies in July, 1687, and its Friends group numbering over 700 has provided leadership and funding for programs to bring history alive.

***

Thanks
One of the first Iroquois words you’ll hear at Ganondagan is nya:weh. You might hear some different pronunciations and see various spellings, but the meaning is always the same: thanks. When Site Manager Pete Jemison speaks the Thanksgiving Address, you hear an elaborate message of thanks. When Program Director Jeanette Miller wraps up a mailing, the committee might hear a quiet nya:weh from her.

In fact, if there is one spirit or philosophy behind Haudenosaunee culture, it is the feeling of thankfulness, at finding ourselves here, recognizing our role, and feeling the connection with the whole creation. So it should be no wonder that the Friends group that supports the site and organizes educational activities regularly expresses its thankfulness for the active support of its members, funders and volunteers. Probably it goes deeper than thankfulness as we commonly think of it because, literally, there would be no Friends group without the community’s support.

I often wonder if a more fully developed tradition of thankfulness would make a difference in mainstream American culture and suspect it would in several ways. Someone’s bound to say, ‘Well, we Christians say grace over our food,” and I’d retort just as quickly, “Yes, but what about the farmers? Do you remember them?” Nothing against the Christians and all others who ask a blessing on their food (they are about to eat it after all), but I wonder if the dinner blessing is sufficient to cover the plants and animals sacrificed to our hunger, the earth, water and sun which make growth, and the farmers who tend this part of the creation.

The Thanksgiving Address is used by the nations who make up the Haudenosaunee as an opening and closing invocation attending many rituals and observances. Listening attentively to the Address, you hear the speaker making his or her way carefully through the universe, noticing and thanking not only the Creator but the varied elements of the Creation. The Address itself is attention to these elements, and during its speaking both the speaker’s and hearer’s attention are “made one,” with one another and with the Creation. Perhaps the Address is attention in a way similar to wampum, which commemorates and records agreements and in its physical being denotes care and seriousness of purpose.

Our American culture would be changed by a greater general attitude of thankfulness. Thankfulness would slow our rate of consumption of the natural world. If we took the time to wonder, notice and appreciate where our food comes from, for example, we’d pay more attention to how it is produced, by whom, and how it tastes. Perhaps we’d eat less, and certainly we’d eat more slowly. Perhaps we’d consider hunting, gathering or gardening more of our own food.

What does it mean, anyway, that we are now mostly a nation of consumers? What happened to the producers? What is it we consume, finally, if not the Creation itself? Is there a hurry to complete this meal? All sorts of other questions could be asked here- like, is there enough for everyone?- but you are now aware of the trajectory of the inquiry, and I don’t have to ask them. You know best how the questions present themselves to you.

Let’s call the Creation by another name for a moment; let’s call it Nature, which certainly covers a lot of ground. Nature provides bountifully for us. But we consumers of Nature seem to have come to the conclusion that it would be better if we told Nature what we want, if we forced Nature to produce more and to our specifications, and if we designed Nature to serve our needs. We haven’t been shy about making our demands on Nature and seem willing to “throw away such parts” as don’t suit us at the moment.

Could we continue this rampage if we hadn’t banished thankfulness? Can we simply step aside to watch the whole roaring engine of consumption speed past, or is it necessary that we toss a branch toward the spokes of the crushing wheel?

It feels as though we are completing another annual round, and spring is poised to burst forth on a new natural year. Have you noticed that in the middle of February the cardinals, many of whom have hung around the feeders quietly all winter, begin to sing? Their song, waking us up first thing in the morning, sounds like, “Here, here, here. Birdy, birdy, birdy.” They’re singing about a fresh start: looking for mates, territory and stuff to build a nest. Once that’s done, they quiet down again.

We pause a moment to thank our friends in the Friends. Our members are strong and active. Volunteers regularly step forward to take on tasks and events, even the tough often-thankless ones, even the ones that have no clear ends, that just roll on and on, like the job of educating children. Corporations, local businesses and private foundations have helped us through the year. Despite the world’s troubles, which are many and sometimes seem never-ending, at Ganondagan we can model cooperation and understanding, true peace-keeping.

-By Stephen Lewandowski

Merry Christmas

2007-12-24T23:05:00.000-05:00

For those who will be celebrating tomorrow, I want to share a piece of sermon that has been said at my home congregation (the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Binghamton) since I was a child, "Christmas Always Begins at Midnight" by A. Powell Davies:

...in legend upon legend, and story after story, Christmas always begins, not with daybreak and the coming of the morning - but at midnight. It was at midnight that the primitive observances began - or as near it as their reckoning could bring them. It was in the darkest hour of the night - not in the glow of morning - that the shepherds of the legend heard the angels sing. And of course, the Three Wise Men were guided, not by the sun, but by a star.

The legends have grown both beautiful and fanciful. Yet they have never drifted out of the darkness into a premature daylight. They have stayed quite close to the inner truth from which they draw their substance: the truth that man must find his faith, not in the daylight but in the dark. If he is ever to come to the light of morning, he must carry his own light with him through the night.

Please enjoy this day and give light and love to the world.

-Jesse

Stops Along the Way #3: Green Lakes State Park

2007-11-05T17:42:00.000-05:00

For your viewing pleasure is this shot of Green Lake, the centerpiece of Green Lakes State Park, a true ecological and aesthetic gem outside of Fayetteville. It's incredible green-blue color comes from the fact that it is a meromictic lake, which means it has distinct layers of water that do not mix. For more description, check out the Park's wikipedia page. The meromictic lakes at the Park, Green and Round, are two out of seven total in North America.

This is the third in our series of Stops Along the Way.

Blogging Again

2007-11-03T16:16:00.000-04:00

Loyal York Staters,

After an over-long hiatus, we're back on the blogging scene. Jesse has begun writing again, Natalie is editing and will hopefully write soon (give her some slack, she just started graduate school at Cornell this semester), we've also got a number of submissions from Steve Lewandowski that we'll be putting up. Exciting things.

For those of you who may have sent us articles or important comments over the past six months or so, we have fallen criminally behind in our email and apologize for our laxness. Especially if you have sent us a submission, we would greatly appreciate it if you could resend it to york.staters@gmail.com. We promise to put them up this time around. If you haven't sent a submission, this is a good time to think about it, we'd love to hear your thoughts from Olean to Plattsburgh or White Lake to Oswego (here is a link to our submission guidelines).

This link, "Upstate needs to secede from state to succeed," was sent to us by Fenrir.

Filling in a geographical gap in our blogroll, we're adding Wandering the Tug, a site located in the Tug Hill Plateau and managed by John. John has also given us three books to add to our Upstate Reading List: The Boyds of Black River, Rome Haul, and Drums Along the Mohawk all by Walter Edmonds.

Finally, we were thrilled to be mentioned in the Syracuse Post-Standard for the article on the Westcott Cinema two weeks ago.

Hope to hear from all you in the near future.

Best Wishes!

-Jesse (co-editor)

A Word---To Give, Take, Keep

2007-10-30T23:48:00.000-04:00

J. Sheldon Fisher 1907-2002

When I was first elected to office, the municipal attorney sent me a letter on official business, and I saw with shock that it was addressed to “The Honorable.” I was shocked because it hadn’t occurred to me that the simple matter of running for office and being elected would confer any such titles. As I thought more about it, though, it seemed there was a point to the honorific: in running for election, I had spoken about the need to protect the public trust. In voting for me, the public had conferred that trust, and in taking the oath of office, I had given my word that I would not only protect the community’s health, safety and general welfare but that I would do so within a framework of State and federal laws. At first blush, though, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

Local historian Sheldon Fisher’s passing has reminded me to review the position he held, without virtue of election, as an exemplary man-of-honor. In his case, it was his faithfulness to history and his insistence on the immediacy and pertinence of history that attracted first my attention then my trust and admiration.

Sheldon Fisher also exemplified the virtues of staying at home, which he accomplished to a remarkable extent. He was born a Fisher after all, born in Fishers, NY of generations of Fishers, and the tiny hamlet of Fishers always remained the heart of his universe. He knew that any inquiry has to be located somewhere, both as a point of origin and perspective, and he found Fishers to be as good as any and better than most for him. He recognized that tiny events in Fishers might be vitally contacted to massive, world-shaking events unfolding elsewhere on the globe. For example, we know that the Mormonism began in upstate New York before embarking on its epic continental journey. Fisher’s research uncovered significant details of the religion’s origins among families living in a swath from Palmyra to Mendon and including, yes, Fishers. He lived a life of inquiry and imagination that could see, in William Blake’s terms, “the world in a grain of sand.” Fishers was his grain of sand.

As a young man I remember seeing Sheldon Fisher and Canandaigua City Historian Herb Ellis, two old men even then, standing in a downpour of rain and sleet at the Council Stone on the main street. They were observing the anniversary of a treaty signed in 1794 by groups representing two nations meeting in Canandaigua. One group stood for the Seneca Nation, whose authority stemmed from their identification of certain local landscape features as their place of origin. But after defeat in war, their long residency was drawing to a close and they were on their way out- to reservations, to Canada, across the continent, bound elsewhere.

The other nation, represented by a hatchet-faced commissioner with a reputation for hard and fair dealing, was the new United States, whose authority had been established by a successful war of independence with the world’s premier colonial power. The weather on the day that the treaty was signed wasn’t recorded, but it’s not too difficult to imagine it as a bleak, cold, gray November day with a hint of snow in the air. My hometown, Canandaigua, was at that time a frontier settlement of a couple hundred people huddled around their chimneys.

Sheldon Fisher is worthy of honor because, despite the actions of our government in the 1960s to appropriate Seneca land for a dam project, he insisted on honoring the treaty. He felt as though it was his word that was given on November 11, 1794, and he would honor his word, whatever others did. We should all try to have such a WORD. The Seneca stayed away from the treaty commemoration for a number of years because they regarded the U.S. action as bending if not breaking the treaty and hoped in vain to embarrass the U.S.

Having a word requires that we give it without conditions and with as full a knowledge of consequences as possible. A word isn’t a word to the extent that we assign conditions to it: “I’ll keep my promise if/when you do.” Likewise, a true word to give requires that we live with all of its consequences.

I’m reminded of our friends the Friends who, when they were branded as Quakers, remarked, “Why yes, we do quake in the presence of the Lord,” and accepted the name as a legitimate, secondary title for their church. In their early days, they were constantly in trouble with religious and secular authorities for what they would and would not do. One of the bones of contention was the swearing of oaths.

The Quakers would not swear to the truth of anything; they considered that once having spoken the truth and said their “word,” no amount of attestation, declaration, God’s witness or notarization would alter the truth of that word. Swearing to the truth of a true statement was in effect gilding the lily, and they would no more swear than they would wear gaudy clothes (They insisted that bright dyes were intended to hide the dirt, and they preferred plain, clean clothes.) For authority, they pointed to a passage in Matthew’s Gospel where Jesus says, “Let your yea be yea and your nay be nay.”

The world is full of conflicting allegiances, multiple perspectives, and contrary interpretations. There can be every shade of gray and confusion on all sides about the shades. We employ specialists to exploit the confusion to gain an advantage. The exponential growth of the attorney and actuary populations supported by our society attests to the sharpness of the instruments now being used to split hairs. Written contracts and treaties stretch into multiple volumes in which every circumstance and condition is imagined, probed, explicated and dissected. By contrast, Sheldon Fisher’s lifetime business was conducted as a matter of word, with perhaps a handshake thrown in for good measure.

Perhaps part of our current problem is our hyper-literacy. We expect that everyone we encounter will also be literate, and the records of decisions will be written down and kept so that they can be consulted in the future when the parties have forgotten the details of their agreement or have passed the agreement on to new parties. But not everyone is literate now, nor were they in the past. In part, the collision of the Seneca and the United States was part of a long history of literate people trying to impose their idea of an agreement on people whose idea of their word was quite different.

Clearly the Iroquois believed in reaching agreements with others (the Iroquois “League” was formed by such a device), and records of agreements were kept with wampum belts. The wampum belts functioned as mnemonic devices to facilitate the recitation of agreements in public. The other party to the agreement, the U.S., recorded words on paper (even if the Seneca could only make an “x”), copied the papers, then hid their copy in a vault in a distant capital. Our memories seem to have atrophied just as the written clauses have multiplied.

In the matter of giving, taking or keeping a word, some believe that it matters who knows, remembers and keeps track; others do not. Some believe that a word given is a public matter and others that it is a private function.

I think that the function of a word has private and public aspects. The public aspects are easiest to describe. On our side, giving and taking a word in public usually involves a ceremony, and the ceremony invokes some sacred principle to witness and protect the word.

On the other hand, the Seneca have consistently used metaphorical but secular imagery, speaking of the Canandaigua treaty as a chain, with full knowledge that the way a chain binds can be assuring or painful. The chain they speak of could be decorative since it’s made of silver. Left unattended, the chain binding the parties could become tarnished and ugly. The Seneca insist that the chain binding the two nations of people together in friendship must be periodically taken out, inspected and polished so that it will continue to be an ornament, a thing of beauty and not a tarnished hindrance.

The Seneca’s meaning isn’t obscure: the word needs to be exercised in public. It reminds me of a Jewish tale about the angel that attends every friendship. Without friendship’s proper exercise, the angel dies, so friends are required to see one another, to speak and to share. It matters less what they do so long as they do something together as friends.

The private word is more difficult to describe because it has an inchoate aspect going beyond language’s expressive ability. A person may give his or her word to him or herself, without notifying any other party. Probably we all know someone who’s dedicated to a task for a reason not immediately apparent. For example, a person may undertake work simply because that work was the unfulfilled wish or goal of a friend who’s been unable to complete it because of sickness or death. The word may also bind two people, and marriage is the best known example. In fact, the most common ceremonies of marriage invoke conditions, “in sickness and in health,” in order to nullify them. Beyond marriage, a word may be given within a family, extending common allegiance and protection to all of that blood.

Beyond the family, most word-giving and –taking becomes a public ceremony with attendant ritualism. Perhaps a better question about the nature of the word is how it is distributed- how far it reaches and who may make a claim on it. Exemplary people of honor often extend the circle in which their word will be kept beyond their families, friends and associates, beyond their clans, tribes and nations, and even beyond “people like us,” to include all humanity, the whole creation. Sheldon Fisher’s circle of responsibility had a center in Fishers, NY, not a place we, or he, might have chosen. But from Fishers, the circle extended to include all sorts of unlikely people and places and, most strikingly, deep into history and far into times to come.

-by Stephan Lewandowski

Alive

2007-10-30T23:41:00.001-04:00

The second-hand store is a cluttered labyrinth carved out of a much larger building, once a department store, which explains the mysterious ups and downs of navigating its full extent. For example, the only way to go up to several floors of stored furniture above is to walk down a short flight to the basement. From the subterranean level, you catch the elevator up run by a short jaunty fellow in a hat. He will leave you off at whatever floor you say and he always, as he assures you, comes back for you later.

There’s a ceremony in using the elevator. The door is held shut by a heavy bar latch, which he undoes by lifting and shifting with a clang. He rolls back the segments of doors and shows you in. He may doff his hat. Once loaded, he closes several doors, latches and a heavy metal safety-gate before beginning operation. The elevator is not self-aligning; it responds to his handling of a massive switch, and once he gets near a floor, he fine-tunes it with little twitches. At the floor, he repeats the ceremony of pulling switches, bars and gates in a certain order to let you out.

For a little while, he experimented with a tips tray held aloft by a piece of secondhand statuary, but not for long. I don’t think he had any takers. He always has his eye out for you and when you step down into his basement area, he’s right there asking if you want a ride up. Somehow he can make you feel vaguely embarrassed for not using his services.

Of course, we aren’t really used to being transported by others. We’d rather jump in and go. His service comes from an entirely different tradition. He invites you in. He asks you to go up. He implies that what you need must be on the upper floors reachable only by his elevator. He’s always sort of around. Probably he cleans up, fixes washing machines and moves the furniture around when he’s not transporting customers, but I’ve never seen him do so. He knows me by sight now, and our encounters have become a short-hand: he says “Today?” with an upward gesture of his head. When I say “Nope,” he gives me a look like I don’t know what I’m missing.
Today he gave me a start. I came looking for a special bowl of a certain size, and I found two right away at a good price on the main floor. I was short of time. Why did I go downstairs at all? I brushed past the Book Nook full of musty sheet music and coverless magazines. As I went down, I caught a whiff of the ever-present sewer gas, no worse than usual but no better either. I think it comes up from the next level down, the sub-basement, which must be dug nearly to the level of the nearby lake. It must have been difficult to get the sewer in so deep, but maybe it’s not quite deep enough, judging by the smell.

He was suddenly beside me, hat pulled low. He glanced up and recognized me. “Hey,” he said, “up today?” but before I could say, “Don’t think so,” he started telling me his story. He pulled his lip aside to show me a big space where his teeth used to be. “Yeah, I broke one and it got infected. They took out four. Now I’m waiting for my false teeth to come in.” It looked bad for him, and he looked bad too- worn, tired, and he seemed to have shrunk in his clothes. He was poking around with a broom, sweeping the floor, and didn’t seem to care much if I went up or stayed.

Something new in the store caught my eye. In the back of the basement, where it used to be dark and moldy, it was now shiny. There was a curtain hanging from the low ceiling, separating a new, bright space from the old basement. I walked past rows of slumping armchairs, absurd lamps, and stained couches, and as I went back, I could see past the curtain.

They must have broken through the cellar wall into a new part of the old basement. From where I thought it used to end, the cellar continued back, and someone had dry-walled and painted an all-white room just big enough to contain eight church pews with a lectern facing them. Behind the lectern hung a large golden cross bathed in light.

There was no one in sight, except for the sweeper. I looked around. The room was meticulously clean and bright. The benches were polished and carefully arranged. Even the floor was freshly painted and unmarked. The sweeper took no notice of my discovery of the new room, but I was suddenly afraid of being caught in the basement shrine by whoever worships there.

“So how you doing today?” he asked as I started to hurry out.

“Oh, I’m okay,” I said, “and I already got what I want. I left it at the front desk- just have to pay for it on the way out.”

“Come back when you got some time to go for a ride,” he said, the dust from his broom rising around our ankles.

-by Stephen Lewandowski

Citizens, Consumers and the struggle for the soul of Upstate Communities

2007-10-30T23:11:00.000-04:00

I aim in this post to examine the concept of a ‘citizen’ in our Upstate communities and the slow erosion of this idea before the new concept of a ‘consumer.’ Today, we tend to view ‘citizenship’ as a relationship between an individual and a State, a government. By saying “I am a citizen of the United States,” one implies foremost a relationship with the United States government, including both rights and responsibilities. School citizenship classes or larger citizenship campaigns typically aim to increase participation in the activities of the government. This has not, however, always been the case.

The concept of a citizen arose in contrast to the political situation of being a subject. Once, this was the primary form of political allegiance in Western nations (like British Subjects). A subject’s primary loyalty is to a sovereign, such a King, Pope or Emperor. Power emanates from this central figure who is elevated above others. The key is that subjects are related to one another only by their relationship to the sovereign.

Citizenship, however, was originally a relationship between citizens not between citizens and the state. Citizenship permeated every element of life. We can see this fascination with life in a ‘Republican System’ in the writings of authors like Alexis de Tocqueville in Democracy in America. This changed the fundamental nature of politics: privileges granted by the sovereign were replaced by (universal) rights, duties given to the sovereign were replaced by responsibilities of the citizen as a member of the community. The state was re-imagined from being the emanation of the power of the sovereign to an agent acting on behalf of the citizenry. While the government was defined by its citizenry, citizenship went far beyond a relationship to the state. These ideals were summed up in the slogans of the era: “All men [sic] are created equal,” and “Liberty, Fraternity, Equality.”

As the Enlightenment revolutions (most notably the French) swept the Western world, they also reconfigured the very space of the European cities. The most iconic transformation was the reshaping of Paris by Baron Haussmann. Caldiera writes:

At the core of the conception of urban public life embedded in modern Paris are notions that city space is open to be used and enjoyed by anyone, and that the consumption society it houses may become accesssible to all. Of course, this has never been entirely the case, neither in Paris nor anywhere else… These
modern urban experencies were coupled with a political life in which similar values were fostered. The modern city has been the stage for all types of public demonstrations. In fact, the promise of incorporation into modern society included not only the city and consumption but also the polity. (From “Fortified Enclaves: The New Urban Segregation,” pg 94)

While this promise of universal inclusion has never been achieved, this does not make it any less of a worthwhile goal; the successes (if only partial) of movements like Civil Rights, Women’s Liberation, etc, are because they have forced inclusion, not because they have rejected the possibility of it occuring.

Yet, it is this basic society of inclusion, the ideal of equal citizens working in fraternity [sic] for liberty, that is today under siege in our communities. Across Upstate New York, we can see the creep of the privatization of space. In Buffalo, there are plans for the first gated community in Amherst (here’s an editorial). In Syracuse, DestinNY proposes to create a privately-owned (but publically subsidized) sealed fantasyworld only accessible by car. Barnes and Noble or Borders replaces the public library. Elevated freeways cut across Syracuse, Binghamton and smaller cities of the Mohawk valley, paralyzing neighborhoods and allowing the owners of cars to avoid all contact with the communities they pass over. Yards become ever-larger, separating mcmansions even as suburbs push further away from central cities. Cars become an absolute necessity for moving from one private parking lot to another in order to do basic shopping.

Is this not an outright rejection of the project of citizenship? We are privatizing public space, creating a situation where one’s status as a consumer replaces that of a citizen. No right exists to enter and inhabit these faux-public spaces—it is only one’s position as a potential purchaser. We need to look no further than the 2003 arrest at the Crossgates Mall in Guilderland, NY of a man for wearing a peace t-shirt to see the fragility of the illusion of true public space within the modern mall. It is profit, not the high-minded goals of liberty, equality and love, that guide these consumer-business relationship. The creation of these privatized enclaves (especially fortified areas like gated communities)—and the interrelated withering of true public spaces—“are not environments that generate conditions conducive to demcracy. Rather, they foster inequality and the sense that different groups belong to separate universes and have irreconcilable claims.” (Caldiera 104)

Without true public space, there is no chance for citizens to enact true citizenship, to develope intimate, difficult relationships with one another. Without the enactment of true citizenship upon the ground, our conception of citizenship will continue to wither to a vestigial loyalty to the State and our communities will fade into nothing.

-by Jesse

Dreaming of a New Westcott Theater

2007-10-23T22:19:00.000-04:00

Citizens of Syracuse's Westcott Nation, lovers of cinema and defenders of the besieged independent media all have reason to mourn this week. The Westcott Cinema is closing. One of a dying breed, the Cinema is a single screen, independently owned movie house. Certainly, the owner of the structure will look for an alternative tenant, but there are enough empty storefronts in Syracuse for one to guess that finding someone to occupy a run-down, single-screen theater might not be the easiest prospect. There is a good chance that it will go un-occupied for some time to come.

Westcott is a fantastically aberrant neighborhood. For starters, it (like its cinema) is an increasing rarity: an integrated neighborhood. While this most certainly refers to the presence of both whites and blacks within the area, this doesn’t encapsulate the diversity found in this little outlying area. Women in saris pass those in the latest hip-hop fashions. University professors rub elbows with psychics and shamans. At the Credit Union, one is as likely to hear Spanish as English. Our yearly festival features music from places as varied as Havana, the Bronx, Ghana and Nashville.

More than simply an abundance of cultural roots, we also enjoy a fantastic network of community institutions: neighborhood associations, a thriving business strip, a community center, a farmer’s market, a branch library, numerous churches, a neighborhood credit union and a co-operative grocery.

I am sure that various community-oriented minds around the Westcott Nation read ‘opportunity’ into the closing of the Cinema. Space is a precious resource, especially at the convergence of Westcott and Harvard streets and there are many that would love to see their dream come to fill that space. Undoubtedly, someone is thinking of re-opening Westcott once again as an art theater. This is both my hope and my great fear.

It seems to be consensus that something different has to be done. The previous tenant, Nat Tobin, was an experienced cinema owner (he also runs the Manlius Art Cinema) and a great lover of the art form, yet was unable to sustain the enterprise. According to the Post Standard (on October 18th, 2007):

…people have shown interest in creating a new theater on the site that would
show either first- or second-run films. Several local business people have
suggested partnerships in new ventures, including a coffee shop, at the
location. Others have proposed the theater become a venue for live
entertainment…

What is it that I fear about these developments? Simply put, the harmonious cohabitation of numerous racial and cultural groups within a neighborhood is a balance that needs to be continually worked on to be maintained. Sitting on Westcott on a Friday night, one sees both groups of whites and blacks, but they are almost always segregated. I rarely saw anyone that wasn’t a middle-aged, middle-classed and white attending the old Westcott Cinema. The only institutions that pull off this integration well—from what I can see—are the Community Center and the Credit Union, and both of them have had to work hard and, more importantly, consciously at maintaining this balance.

I fear an art cinema, community run or not, that claims to appeal to the ‘community’ but in fact aims only at the wealthiest, whitest and most prestigious of clientele. A place that takes its cues solely from Sundance and where the term ‘foreign film’ rarely extends beyond the art scenes of Western Europe and its Latin American imitators. A place like the misnamed Little Theater in Rochester with its attached jazz club and French pastry shop. I fear a resurrected cinema of fancy coffees, expensive pastries and high brow films—another agent of gentrification.

Do I dislike art films? Am I opposed to liberal-minded documentaries? Of course not, I firmly stand behind cinema that aims for something higher than profit. Yet, I also stand behind a cinema that aims to be a truly community affair. What do the citizens of Westcott Nation—white and black, native and immigrant, young and old, working and middle class—want to see on their screen?

My imagined cinema would show the standard fare of art flicks and documentaries, but also feature popular films from the burgeoning film industries of India and China, second-run Hollywood films to undercut the popularity of corporate cinemaplexes, and bizarre kitsch films like the Rocky Horror Picture Show for nothing more than sheer fun. I see it as a place spiced up with stand-up comics and musical acts, both local and brought in from the outside. I fantasize of each film being preceded by a short produced by a student from a local high school or university. However, in the end, I hope that my dreams carry only as much weight as any of my other neighbors.

How could this be arranged? I see two options for organizing a dream like this: non-profit, or a cooperative of some sort (perhaps a consumer co-0p like the Real Food Co-Op or perhaps a worker-owned one). All of these options would leave control of the destiny of our cinema in the hands of our neighbors.

As we move towards one of these options, we might do well to take a lesson from the Art Cinema of Binghamton. When the old, privately owned, single-screened, Art Theater burned down a few years ago, the cinemaphiles of Binghamton organized screenings of art films in homes and sympathetic places of business. These screenings raised money, attracted attention, built a sense of fellowship among activists and provided the basic framework of an organization that would eventually open a new Art Cinema downtown. If we are to undertake these actions, we must take care to not only respect but also celebrate the beautiful, empowering and, ultimately, fragile diversity that is Westcott.

-By Jesse

York Staters in Poetry: Ezra Pound

2007-06-08T14:40:00.000-04:00

In an obscure canto of the world-renown poet Ezra Pound's mildly obscure work, The Cantos, we find two references to Upstate New York:

Canto CXIV

...Gems sunned as mirrors, alternate.

These simple men who fought against jealousy,

as the man of Oneida.

Ownership! Ownership!...

...to reign, to dance in a maze,

To live a thousand years in a wink.

York State or Paris--

Nor began nor ends anything...

Pound received his masters degree from Hamilton College(Clinton, NY) in 1905, before living abroad and settling in Italy. York Staters has talked about the Oneida Community before, so I won't go into that, but he also refers to George MacLeod's Iona Community which was founded about 50 years after the Oneida Community turned into Oneida Glass and was influenced by the the Oneida theory of living spirituality.

Because of his seemingly stream-of-conscious writing I can't really tell you what he's talking about; since he starts by quoting Voltaire then laughing at a Scottish economist who died in poverty, then ended this section with the dream of a young fruit seller who wants to write. Oh yeah, there's a chinese character, some french and italian too in this rather short three page poem.

Submitted by Joe

Editors Note: Thanks to everyone who has inquired as to our whereabouts...we're still here! Co-editor Jesse is in Cornwall, United Kingdom, doing research, and I have been bogged down with work and lack of internet connection. But there are good things on the horizon...after our summer slumber, York Staters will awaken again as Jesse returns from overseas and I relocate to Ithaca where I'll be starting graduate study at Cornell in the fall. In the mean time, posting will be light, but if you have a submission you'd like to make to York Staters, we're happy to post it. Check out the submissions guidelines and send us a post, or send any ideas, or just a hello to york.staters[at]gmail.com.

York Stater of the Month: Johnny Hart

2007-04-08T20:05:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, April 7th, cartoonist Johnny Hart passed away. A native of Endicott, NY, he passed away at age 76 in his home in Ninevah. Nationally, Hart will probably be best known for his two most famous cartoons: B.C. and the Wizard of Id. According to the Press and Sun Bulletin: "Hart's B.C. comic strip was launched in 1958 and eventually appeared in more than 1,300 newspapers worldwide with an audience of 100 million."

However, in his home community of Broome County, Hart has transformed his style of cartooning into an emblem of local identity. His work adorns the logos of the Binghamton Dusters (former hockey team), the BC Transit, the Broome County Parks, the BC Open and the Broome County Icemen. Growing up next door to a Broome County Park, I fondly remember the smiling "Dudley the Dinosaur" logo adorning the entry sign. The coalescence of the name of the comic "B.C." with the abbreviation for Broome County has been a piece of local lore for at least as long as I have been alive.

Hart has long been controversial locally because of his strong conservative Christian faith--and his willingness to express it through his cartooning. In 2001, his Palm Sunday strip (which always revolved around Christian themes) caused an uproar by implying that Christianity had supplanted Judaism. Honestly, I've never been a big fan of B.C. not simply because of its annoying preachiness, but because I never found it that funny, but I was suprirsed by the controversy, considering that it is pretty standard Pauline theology. That said, I always felt that Hart's Christianity was good hearted and that his strip was aimed towards a different audience than myself.

The purpose of this salute and honor, though comes from Hart's long-time dedication to the community of his birth. Not only did he remain in Broome County--not usually considered a center of the graphic arts--but he also dedicated much of his work towards providing the County with a distinctive aesthetic look. Today, as we mourn that man, we can take some consoliation in knowing that he would probably be pleased that the distinct style remains with us and has passed from being his own possession to one of the community as a whole. B.C. has become Broome County and for that we thank Mr. Hart.

-Jesse

Press and Sun Obituary

Rochester: A City of Quality

2007-03-26T21:01:00.000-04:00

Straight from 1963, this piece of the past was sent to us by Joe...

Here is the original link

-Jesse

Theory of Salvation

2007-03-24T11:14:00.000-04:00

Kurt asked me today, so I presume you’ve been wondering too, what is my theory of shopping at the Salvation Army? We were standing in the middle of the library and talking pretty loud, but that’s okay today because the college is on break. We weren’t disrupting others and the librarians were amused.

Kurt came in to check his e-mail while I was taking a break from tutoring, and I joked, “Do you ever wear that sweater anymore? That one I recognized from the Salvation Army?” It was a tannish-brown hand-knit the cuffs of whose sleeves would have swung below my knees.

He said that he’d like to wear it more but “the cats have found it. Yeah, first one, then the whole bunch, nesting there.”

“Big enough for all of them and maybe they like the color,” I joked.

Then he asked me, “Where you and I are aficionados of the Salvation Army, do you have any tips or special methods?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” I said, “I do have several theories and use them regularly. For example, I thoroughly empty my mind at the front door. In my experience, the worst thing that you can carry into the Salvation Army is an expectation. So I try not to think about what I need.”

Usually it works, and I walk through the doors with a minimum of preconceptions, if any. I try
to take it as it comes. Let it come to me. “You know, mystic stuff like that.”

Actually, I said that I thought of shopping the Salvation Army as trolling. “You let the bait down in the water, you sit back, maybe somebody else is steering the boat, you can’t see the lure at all after a while, it’s just out there somewhere, and you wait.”

Kurt showed me the pair of boots he’d just bought for $3. “Wow!” I said, “they still look like new.” We briefly compared notes on what we would and wouldn’t buy secondhand. We agreed on underwear (definitely not) but differed on towels. Shoes have always been iffy with me, unless they look unworn like Kurt’s find. Doesn’t Galway Kinnell have an awful poem about Goodwill shoes?

I used to think that there was a right and a wrong way to do anything, including shopping the Salvation Army. More recently, I have become aware that there are numerous right ways to do things. I still secretly think, however, that I may have discovered the best way to shop the Salvation Army. That accounts for my willingness to share my theories and methods with Kurt. Maybe it’s all a little overwhelming for him.

“First, I walk the length of the store and always start from the back, in the appliances and furniture.” That seems odd even to me, because there’s very little or nothing in those categories that I need. He suggested that I might be attracted by the books, which are also at the far end of the store. I thought not, since my bookshelves at home already overflow, and there has been some complaint about my buying habits. “I just like starting from the back, probably like reading the newspaper from back to front.”

After scoping the bookshelves, appliances and furniture in the back room, I come back out to Housewares in the main room. Kurt said, “Yeah, every once in a while, there’s a dynamite highball glass in here- big heavy bottom.” What was the last thing was I bought in Housewares? Was it the framed, signed photograph of middleweight champion prize-fighter Carmen Basilio inscribed, “To my good buddy, Angie, best wishes”?

Is there a logic to what shows up at the Salvation Army? Are there tides of goods like oceans dragged around the globe by the moon? Currents of clothing, littoral drift of dishes, shoe seiches, toy tsunamis, and scarf surf on the storefront beaches? Goods wash up here for us to pick over. If we knew those tides, could we wait for what we want?

After Housewares, I cut across to Linens. Nothing catches my eye. The other day there was a khaki army blanket that looked at least fifty years old. The moth holes had been darned with brilliant embroidery floss. It caught my eye as a relic- butterflies are free- but I didn’t want to own it. It disappeared from the store within a day.

My final sweep of the store involves Men’s Clothes, and Men’s Clothes are displayed on two tiers of three major racks running almost the length of the store. Pants and sweaters; heavy shirts, suits and jackets; long-sleeved shirts below and short-sleeved shirts above. Kurt points out that prices seem to have risen recently, and that explains why I’ve been looking for the special color ½ price tickets more than usual.

I’ve been specializing in green shirts for the past few years, but it’s become clear that I have more green shirts than I can wear. Almost everyone knows that I’m usually dressed in some shade of green, but probably most of them don’t realize that the shirts all come from the same place. Now, when I buy a new one, one has to be returned.

The Men’s Clothes section is a museum of style and fiber. There’s an attraction to the occasional, grubby red plaid hunting woolens, the bright dashikis, and the pastel polyester leisure suits. Things which are good and valuable- by virtue of their unique style or definite utility- pass through the store quickly. Two days is a long time for something good- however outlandish- to linger, so it’s best to shop light and often. Of course, later, sometimes, I wonder. To what occasion would I wear a NYS Fruit Testing bowling shirt?

Anyway, once through Men’s Clothes in three long passes, I’m ready to exit back onto Main Street. Maybe I’ll give the Jewelry counter or Ladies Coats a glance, but seldom more than that.

I realize that I’ve gone on too long with Kurt. He glances toward his computer screen. I feel the need to justify my enthusiasm with more than claims of economy so I try a new tack. With his big bushy beard and funky clothes, Kurt might go for this, so I try, “Yeah, you know, it satisfies my hunter/gatherer instincts. The Bushman poking with his stick at a promising spot probably feels much the way I do scanning the racks for warmth, style, and value.”

Kurt smiles and turns to his e-mail.

***

SLOW DOWN
The trade trail on
Main Street is well-marked
ascending slightly
leading away from the lake
into the wind, toward
the Salvation Army store
The walk is cold and snowy
the hunter-gatherer’s head is
covered, pulled in, hood buttoned up
sunglasses covering his eyes
cloth gloved hands and feet
protected by wool socks and boots
The wind stings his face
snow freezes on his cheeks
he approaches the front door
and finds the store all dark
a hand-written message in the window
“Closed dew to weather”

***

-by Stephen Lewandowski

A long-time York Stater, Steve has published eight books of poetry and his poems and essays have appeared in regional and national environment and literary journals and anthologies. An environmental educator, he is a founder of the Coalition for Hemlock and Canadice Lakes and has worked with numerous environmental and community organizations in the western Finger Lakes. His most recent book of poems, One Life, was published by Wood Thrush Books of Vermont. His work is either forthcoming or recently published in snowy egret, Bellowing Ark, Pegasus, Hanging Loose, Free Verse, Avocet, and Blueline.

Back from vacation

2007-03-19T23:28:00.000-04:00

Hello everyone, I'm back in the swing of things here in Syracuse, hoping that we get a bit more of March's lamb and a bit less of the lion in the coming weeks.

In my internet surfing I tend to accumulate, or are sent, links to interesting Upstate sites and events and I think that it's a good time to share a few of them.

Where License Reigns with all Impunity A fascinating anarchist study of the traditional Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) polity. This essay was sent to me by the author, Stephen Arthur.

The Best Apples
Information on growing, buying and eating antique apple varieties.

Doc's Little Gem
The map location of my new favorite 24-hour diner, here in Syracuse. This was sent to me by Mike.

"We're in this together": Vermont's Cooperatives Join Forces
Long-time readers will know that I am a big proponent of the cooperative movement. Here is the latest developments from our neighbors in the Green Mountain State.

Rare White Deer Versus Ethanol: Conservationists at odds in Seneca A continuation of our earlier story on the Ghost Deer of Romulus (Part I and Part II of that story can be found here). This link was sent to me by Laurie.

Hope everyone is doing well and weathering the end of winter.

-Jesse

Traveling

2007-03-07T22:13:00.000-05:00

Our co-editor Jesse will be traveling and far from a computer until the 17th. He will begin posting again at that time.

Where did that snake come from?

2007-03-07T22:01:00.000-05:00

The History of a Story

Among current residents of Yates and Ontario Counties in the Finger Lakes region of New York State, there is strong value, interest, and concern associated with the past, present and future of several hills close to Canandaigua Lake. People have been told that the previous residents, the Seneca or Onondawaga people, had a special relationship with Bare and South Hills; that they considered the area to be their place of origin; and that a Seneca myth or legend was located on these hills.

Location
Bare Hill is located about 15 miles west of the geographical center of the Finger Lakes region, 9.5 miles south of the City of Canandaigua and 37.5 miles south of the shore of Lake Ontario. Bare Hill is 9 miles south of State Routes 5 & 20, which follow an ancient east-west trail as well as marking a general division between the Ontario Lake Plain and the Allegheny Uplands.

Bare Hill is located 5.5 miles north of the southern end of Canandaigua and 9.5 from the northern end. It is in the northeastern corner of the Town of Middlesex, Yates County. At 42° 44’ 50” N and 77° 17’ 45” W, Bare Hill is one of the northernmost extensions of the Allegheny Plateau.

By local landmarks, Bare Hill is directly across Canandaigua Lake from Seneca Point, site of settler Gamaliel Wilder’s 1791 gristmill and distillery; 1.5 miles west of Overacker’s Corner’s schoolhouse and graveyard; a mile north and west of the ancient settlement of Vine Valley; and 3 miles north and west of the hamlet of Middlesex.

Dimensions
Bare Hill covers more than a thousand acres and reaches a summit half a mile east of the lake at 1540’ above sea level, more than 850’ above lake level. Its neighbor hill to the south is 340’ taller than Bare Hill at 1883’ above sea level, but its summit is flattened and elongated. Bare Hill, by contrast, seems pointed.

Seen from above, Bare Hill is egg-shaped, smoothed and flattened like a drumlin on the northern, lead edge by glaciation. Its northern slope is the flattest, with less than a 4% rise, and approaching from the north one would be unaware of the hill. Its western slope toward the lake is the steepest, at more than 30% grade. The hill measures a mile east-west and nearly two miles north-south.

The steep slope continues into the lake which reaches a depth of 242 feet within half a mile. Beneath the sediments forming the lake’s bed the bedrock continues to fall away another 300 feet. In other words, a bedrock hill nearly twice the size of the visible one is hidden, buried in sediment and covered with lake water.

Views
Bare Hill’s prominent location means that it is both in many views of the area and has an unusually fine view of the area.

Bare Hill is visible from the northern end of Canandaigua Lake from the Owasco (AD 100-1350) period village sites at the Deer and Sackett Farms and the Iroquois (A.D. 1350-1730) period village site at Canandaigua Fort, both set somewhat above the present site of the City of Canandaigua on rises to the west. Because of the curve of the lake, one must either come to the lakeshore or climb one of rises north or west of the city to see Bare Hill.

The most spectacular view of Bare Hill is from the west across the lake. Your eye may be caught by the diversity of landscape figures, the pointed shape of Bare Hill, the steepness of slopes, the sheltered aspect of Vine Valley, and the huge multi-colored plane of the lake below.

The view from Bare Hill is magnificent and provides a sense of the territory defined by the hill. You feel that you look down at much of the world from Bare Hill. The view is relatively unobstructed to the northeast, north and southwest for ten to twenty-five miles. The northern view is particularly striking since you are looking out over the flat lake plain with its abrupt drumlin rises. From the west side of the hill, looking southwest, the view is down the Canandaigua Lake valley as far as the glacial terminal moraine between Naples and North Cohocton, some 14 miles distant. Above the moraine you see the bulky “shoulders” of glaciated Hatch Hill, Pine Hill, High Point and other unnamed hills of the Cohocton River watershed.

The Story and Its Translations
Over time, a story reported to be of Native American origin has become associated with Bare Hill.

There are two original English-language sources for the Big Snake on Bare Hill story from the first quarter of the nineteenth century. The story is in the original edition of James Seaver’s A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison, “taken carefully from her own words, November 29, 1823” and published by J. D. Bemis and Company of Canandaigua in 1824.

The story itself, however, is not included in the main body of the text, purportedly a transcription of Mary Jemison’s statements (but showing considerable editorial interference on Seaver’s part). The story is the third section of the Appendix, which Seaver’s introduction informs us “is principally taken from the words of Mrs. Jemison’s statement. Those parts which were not derived from her, are deserving equal credit, having been obtained from authentic sources.”

The story, as it appears in the Appendix, seems to be ascribed to Horatio Jones, who was, like Mary Jemison (1743-1833), a long-term captive of the Seneca. Later, he often functioned as an interpreter and still later as an agent in the payment of annuities to the Seneca. He was trusted as one faithful to language and good relations. In A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison, the story appears this way:

TRADITION OF THE ORIGIN OF THE SENECA NATION. THEIR RESERVATION FROM UTTER EXTINCTION. THE MEANS BY WHICH THE PEOPLE WHO PRECEDED THE SENECA WERE DESTROYED- AND THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFERENT INDIAN LANGUAGES.

The tradition of the Seneca Indians, in regard to their origin, as we are assured by Capt. Horatio Jones, who was a prisoner five years amongst them, and for many years since has been an interpreter, and agent for the payment of annuities, is that they broke out of the earth from a large mountain at the head of Canandaigua Lake, and that mountain they still venerate as the place of their birth; thence they derive their name, “Ge-nun-de-wah,”1 or Great Hill, and are called “The Great Hill People,” which is the true definition of the word Seneca.

The great hill at the head of Canandaigua lake, from whence they sprung, is called Genundewah, and has for along time past been the place where the Indians of that nation have met in council, to hold great talks, and to offer up prayers to the Great Spirit, on account of its having been their birth place; and also in consequence of the destruction of a serpent at that place, in ancient time, in a most miraculous manner, which threatened the destruction of the whole of the Senecas, and barely spared enough to commence replenishing the earth.
The Indians say, says Capt. Jones, that the fort on the big hill, or Genundewah, near the head of Canandaigua lake, was surrounded by a monstrous serpent, whose head and tail came together at the gate. A long time it lay there, confounding the people with its breath. At length they attempted to make their escape, some with their hommany-blocks, and others with different implements of household furniture; and in marching out of the fort walked down the throat of the serpent. Two orphan children, who had escaped this general destruction by being left some time before on the outside of the fort, were informed by an oracle of the means by which they could get rid of their formidable enemy- which was, to take a small bow and a poisoned arrow, made of a kind of willow, and with that shoot the serpent under its scales. This they did, and the arrow proved effectual; for on its penetrating the skin, the serpent
became sick, and extending itself rolled down the hill, destroying all the timber that was in its way, disgorging itself and breaking wind greatly as it went. At every motion, a human head was discharged, and rolled down the hill into the lake, where they lie at this day, having the hardness and appearance of stones.

To this day the Indians visit that sacred place, to mourn the loss of their friends, and to celebrate some rites that are peculiar to themselves. To the knowledge of white people there has been no timber on the great hill since it was first discovered by them, though it lay apparently in a state of nature for a great number of years, without cultivation. Stones in the shape of Indians’ heads may be seen lying in the lake in great plenty, which are said to be the same that were deposited there at the death of the serpent.
The Senecas have a tradition, that previous to, and for some time after, their origin at Genundewah, this country, especially about the lakes, was thickly inhabited by a race of civil, enterprizing and industrious people, who were totally destroyed by the great serpent, that afterwards surrounded the great hill fort, with the assistance of others of the same species; and that they (the Senecas) went into possession of the improvements that were left.

In those days the Indians throughout the whole country, as the Senecas say, spoke one language; but having become considerably numerous, the before mentioned great serpent, by an unknown influence, confounded their language, so that they could not understand each other; which was the cause of their division into nations, as the Mohawks, Oneidas, &c. At that time, however, the Senecas retained their original language, and continued to occupy their mother hill, on which they fortified themselves against their enemies, and lived peaceably, till having offended the serpent,2 they were cut off as before stated.

David Cusick’s Version
In 1827, David Cusick’s Sketches of Ancient History of the Six Nations was privately printed at Lewiston, NY. In 1828, a second edition of 7000 copies was published at Lewiston. In 1848 it was re-published by Turner and McCollum Printers of Lockport, NY. The second and third editions contain four woodcut illustrations and several extra paragraphs of text. In the text it is stated that the sketches were written “from the Tuscarora Village, June 10, 1825”.

Cusick was an educated Tuscarora (the sixth of the Six Nations, who joined the five original League members after moving from North Carolina in 1712). Cusick included this version of “The Serpent at Bare Hill” in Section III of his sketches, Origin of the Kingdom of the Five Nations, which was called A Long House:

There was a woman and son who resided near the fort, which was situated near a nole, which was Jenneatowaka, the original seat of the Te-hoo-nea-nyo-hent (Senecas) the boy one day, while amusing in the bush he caught a small serpent called Kaistowanea, with two heads, and brings it to his apartment; the serpent was first placed in a small warm box to keep tame, which was fed with birds, flesh, etc. After ten winters the serpent became considerable large and rested on the beams within the hut, and the warrior was obliged to hunt deers and bears to feed the monster; but after awhile the serpent was able to maintain itself on various game; it left the hut and resided on top of a nole; the serpent frequently visited the lake, and after thirty years it was prodigious size, which in a short time inspired with an evil mind against the people, and in the night the warrior experienced the serpent was
brooding some mischief, and was about to destroy the people of the fort; when the warrior was acquainted of the danger he was dismayed and soon moved to other
fort; at daylight the serpent descended from the heights with the most tremendous noise of the trees, which were trampled down in such a force that the trees were uprooted, and the serpent immediately surrounded the gate; the people were taken improvidentially and brought to confusion; finding themselves circled by the monstrous serpent, some of them endeavored to pass out at the gate, and others attempted to climb over the serpent, but were unable; the people remained in this situation for several days; the warriors had made oppositions to dispel the monster, but were fruitless, and the people were distressed of their confinement, and found no other method than to rush out at the gate, but the people were devoured, except a young warrior and his sister, which detained, and were only left exposed to the monster, and were restrained without hope of getting released; at length the warrior received advice from a dream, and he adorned his arms with the hairs of his sister, which he succeeded by shooting at the heart, and the serpent was mortally wounded, which hastened to retire from the fort and retreated to the lake in order to gain relief; the serpent dashed on the face of the water furiously in the time of agony; at last it vomited the substance which it had eaten and then sunk to the deep and expired. The people of the fort did not receive any assistance from their neighboring forts as the serpent was too powerful to be resisted. After the fort was demolished the Council fire was removed to other fort called Than-gwe-took, which was situated west of now Geneva Lake.

A later study (1987) of Cusick’s work by Russell Judkins pronounces it “an early example of Iroquois intellectual endeavor in ethnic self-analysis and the communication of Native American culture.” Judkins argues that in its structure and language the work “ultimately reflects Iroquoian mind, spirit, assumption, and reality.” Judkins finds great value in Cusick’s use of “symbolic imagery” and “language which “bridges” two cultural worlds.”

The Snake
Wallace Chafe’s Handbook of Seneca Language (1963) translates “Kashaistowaneh” as “Big Snake.” In one version, it is gigantic and has two heads, and in the other it is simply gigantic. Each of the stories acknowledges that there’s more to the hilltop than meets the eye. One version says the Senecas “broke out of the earth” and the other that they “originated from the top.”

What about the snake? Neither story says so, but could the snake have come from the same hole? Jemison’s version doesn’t mention an origin, and Cusick says it was found in the bush. Why did it follow them? To destroy them and give them a fresh start. The snake links an under and other world with the present and above ground world.

Presuming that the story originated in the Seneca society and language, what did snakes mean to them? One prominent association of snakes was with water. Almost any spring, well or seep was thought to have a snake, like a guardian spirit, lurking nearby. In a number of Seneca tales, lakes are inhabited by huge snakes whose intentions toward humans seem to be malevolent. The snakes can take human form, better to mate with human women, but are in constant conflict with He-no the Thunderer, a god associated with another form of water, rainfall from the sky.

If Big Snake is like other snakes from around the world, his reputation is mixed. He lives at the boundary between the world we know and the ones we don’t. What’s hidden underground is akin to what’s hidden in times past and by death. Big Snake lives near chaos and brings destruction with him, yet he also bears a strong relation to procreation, birth, rainfall and fertility. He is a go-between, with powers to destroy and create. Despite the good qualities such as generosity and protection of the weak demonstrated by the orphan in taking and caring for the snake, the boy made an error: such things make poor pets.

Other Variants
References to and variants of the tale are included in Henry R. Schoolcraft’s Notes on the Iroquois (1846), Harriet Maxwell Converse’s Myths and Legends of the New York State Iroquois (1908), William Beauchamp’s A History of the New York Iroquois (1905) and Iroquois Folk Lore (1922), Arthur Parker’s Seneca Myths and Folk Tales (1923), and Joseph Bruchac’s Iroquois Stories (1985).

Schoolcraft appropriates Cusick’s materials, including the Big Snake story, with only minimal attribution of authorship. No mention is made of David Cusick when the story appears on pp. 60-1 of Notes…. Later in Notes… (pp. 237-40), a letter from Reverend James Cusick, David’s brother, seems to convey the remainder of Cusick’s Sketches… to Schoolcraft’s use with brother David’s authorship relegated to a footnote.

The Converse version is a literary re-telling of David Cusick’s story. It appears in Part 2 of her volume as material which had not been prepared for publication at the time of her death in 1903 but was “Revised by the Editor (Arthur Parker) from Rough Drafts Found Among Mrs. Converse’s Manuscripts.” Her snake, like Cusick’s, has two heads and her additions to the tale are identifying the hero whom Jemison calls “an orphan” as Ha-Ja-Noh, a boy who became a warrior, and in emphasizing the hypnotic power of the snake’s “swaying heads” and “bright eyes.” In Cusick’s version of the tale, the boy is not an orphan.

In History…, Beauchamp recites the Big Snake on Bare hill story and ascribes it to “a general Seneca tradition” while offering as a possible “explanation” that “the fort was besieged by a powerful foe, or that something near by produced a pestilence.” He does call the story a “favorite” Iroquois tale and notes that “the story seems to belong to but one of the two great bands of the Senecas.” In Folklore… Beauchamp republishes both Cusick’s and Jemison’s versions. He comments that he was told a version similar to Jemison’s by Captain Samuel George, an Onondaga.

Arthur Parker includes the theme in his Literary Elements of Seneca Folklore section as “Number 43: Fast-growing Snake. A boy finds a pretty snake ands feeds it. It grows enormously and soon eats a deer. Game is exhausted and snake goes after human beings.”

Joseph Bruchac follows the Converse version in most details.

Some Other Themes
Neither Jemison nor Cusick attribute rapid growth to the snake. Cusick states that it took ten winters for the snake to leave the lodge and thirty years to reach a dangerous size. The snake’s rapid growth first appears in Converse’s version and is re-affirmed by Parker.

Jemison calls the brother and sister “orphans” but Cusick does not. Neglected orphans are as ubiquitous in Iroquois folklore as wandering princes are in Grimm. Jemison doesn’t refer to the boy as a warrior, but Cusick does, and Converse not only makes him a warrior but gives him a name, Ha-ja-noh.

The weapons and their origin also vary among versions. Jemison says that an oracle advises the boy to make a “small bow and poisoned arrow, made of a kind of willow” and to shoot it “under the scales.” Cusick says that a dream advised the boy to “adorn his arms with the hairs of his sister, which he succeeded in shooting at the heart.” Finally, Converse says a dream instructed the boy to make “arrows of dark snake wood tipped with “white flint” and bow strung “with a lock of your sister’s hair” and aimed at the monster’s heart.

The Seneca consider dreams oracular, so there is probably no conflict in those terms. The snake wood and white flint of Converse seem unduly romantic. In all versions, the weapon which is small (unlike its opponent) and made from a kind of willow, draws some magic power from association with the sister’s hair, and penetrates the creature’s scales to its heart, unlike the failed conventional weapons of other warriors who were devoured by the snake.

Arthur Parker
Arthur Parker (1881-1955) was a protégé of Mrs. Harriet Maxwell Converse (1836-1903). In his youth, he seems to have followed her more fanciful versions and interpretations of Seneca folklore. Mrs. Converse was a valued friend of the Iroquois in that she opened her New York City home to native American visitors, spent her fortune in relieving the distress of their indigents, and actively lobbied in Albany and through the New York City press for their protection and benefit.

In his later years, however, Parker returned to study of Seneca folklore with a fresh perspective and influenced by the science of anthropology. Parker had returned from his position as State Archaeologist in Albany to become Director of the Rochester Museum of Science. Working in Rochester and living in Naples, he lived in and passed through the landscapes depicted in the stories he studied.

In 1949, Parker was interviewed by the Canandaigua Daily Messenger and asked specifically about the hills and the snake story. His opinion at that time was that Bare Hill is Genundewah and should be associated with the snake story, but that Nundawao, the hill from which the Seneca say they originated, is the next hill south along Canandaigua Lake locally known as South Hill. It is not difficult to imagine the original Seneca people issuing from the chasm called Clark Gully in the southeast slope of that hill.

Questions Remain
Questions adhere to the story and the hills. Is the Big Hill in question Bare Hill or South Hill? Was the story native in origin or, as Tonawanda Seneca leader Corbett Sundown said in 1987, “a white man’s tale”? Its most obvious interpretation is that Native Americans fed and protected weak colonists when they first appeared and were “devoured” when the colonies grew huge and strong. Is there more to the tale? Is there archaeological evidence of the village that several texts describe on top of either hill?

One hundred and eighty years later, there are no new texts to which to appeal for answers. There may, however, be remnants of the story being told in the Seneca language. If so, these and other questions might receive an answer in Seneca.

-by Stephen Lewandowski

A long-time York Stater, Steve has published eight books of poetry and his poems and essays have appeared in regional and national environment and literary journals and anthologies. An environmental educator, he is a founder of the Coalition for Hemlock and Canadice Lakes and has worked with numerous environmental and community organizations in the western Finger Lakes. His most recent book of poems, One Life, was published by Wood Thrush Books of Vermont. His work is either forthcoming or recently published in snowy egret, Bellowing Ark, Pegasus, Hanging Loose, Free Verse, Avocet, and Blueline.

You might be from Upstate if...

2007-03-02T22:59:00.000-05:00

If you're proud that your region makes the national news 96 nights a year because Saranac Lake is the coldest spot in the nation, and Syracuse gets more snow than any other major city in the US

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from October through May

If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance, and they don't work there.

If you consider it a sport to gather your food by drilling through 36 inches of ice and sitting there all day hoping that the food will swim

If you have worn shorts and a parka on the same day.

If you have had a lengthy phone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number.

"Vacation" means going South past Syracuse for the weekend!

You measure distance in hours. [is this odd?]

You know several people who have hit a deer more than once.

You can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard, without flinching.

You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked.

You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.

Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.

You can identify a southern or eastern accent.

Down South to you means Corning.

Your neighbor throws a party to celebrate his new shed!

You go out for a fish fry every Friday.

You find 10 degrees "a little chilly."

-Submitted by Cathy

Alternative Economics: India's Jajmani System

2007-02-27T00:10:00.000-05:00

For some time, I have used this website as a platform to explore alternative economic models. Long time readers will remember explorations into the functioning of agricultural cooperatives in the former East German state as a hedge against unemployment and (a bit closer to home) the Ithaca Hour local currency project. I would like to once again move beyond our everyday economic systems to explore an entirely different way of life and what we can learn from it and possibly bring back to improve our communities back here in Upstate New York: the Hindu Jajmani system.

In her recent book on South Indian caste and religion, Fierce Gods, Diane Mines describes the ‘Jajmani System’:

In 1936, William Wiser first coined the term ‘jajmani system’ to describe a pattern of nonmonetary, nonmarket exchange he found at work in a North Indian village. He found that the non-Brahman landholders (called jajmān) in this village gave shares of their grain harvest as well as cooked food and other goods to other occupational jātis [castes] such as Barbers, Potters, Washermen, Carpenters, and Blacksmiths in return for long-term service. Wiser characterized these exchanges as ‘mutual’ or ‘symmetrical.’ That is, Wiser saw the jajmāni system as a division of labor where landholding castes exchanged grain for the services of the other jātis tit for tat… [1]

In the idealized jajmani system, all of the castes, “the priest, bard, accountant, goldsmith, florist vegetable grower, etc.etc, are served by all the other castes. They are the jajmans of these other castes. In turn each of these castes has a form of service to perform for the others. Each in turn is master. Each in turn is servant.”[2] Mines describes (in 1990) the continuation of this system in some economic areas: blacksmiths still came around to repair plows and wheels, barbers cut hair, washermen washed clothes and garland makers rode through town on bicycles every morning, throwing flowers (used for decoration of home altars) on front stoops. None of these people were typically paid in cash for their services[3]; however, during harvest, they were able to come to all of their traditional jajman—whether their services had been called upon or not—for a small share of grain (she describes as roughly 3 kg per household). Kumar reports that recompense could take the form of rent-free land, butter, milk, clothing and use of fruit trees. Miner describes one case where the landlord castes had set aside a field for the use of the potter caste, which they either rented or used for their own crops. The specialized castes also enjoyed other privileges on particular holy days: ritual meals, uncooked ceremonial foods and small gifts (candy, small amounts of cash, garlands and wooden spoons). They were, though, also expected to provide certain services on holy days and for life rituals, for example the washermen provide the wicks for oil lamps at weddings and the potters created special jars for ritual uses on holy days.

What separates the jajmani system from a contractual one is: (1) that it is an inheritable one, one generation of farmers has a relationship with the children of the specialized caste members that their parents had relationships with, (2) it is exclusive, in that a jajman family cannot receive specialized services from anyone except their traditional family clients and (3) finally, it is more than economic transaction, but assumes a ritual character and a supposed relationship of ‘affection.’ One’s traditional interlocutors in the jajmani system were viewed, in a way, as extended portions of the family.

This is not, however, to say that the Jajmani system is without its drawbacks. This system was embedded in a broader caste system and served to protect the rights and privileges of the dominant castes. Kumar writes that, “prior to 1843, many were in the position of serfs, i.e. subject to punishment if they tried to run away, or to change masters without permission of their patron.”[4] At it’s height, it was a form of feudalism, with patrons protecting the legal rights of their clients and clients serving (if necessary) as muscle to protect their patrons. In particular, clients served as ritual sinks for their patron’s bad karma, removing impurities and evil from the higher castes.

Although there is no doubt that the Jajmani System always had exploitative elements [5], many participants saw (and still see, as it does continue in rural India), it as one of mutual reciprocity and ‘affection.’ Those jajman relationships that remain today are ones of choice and are typically used to augment work for wages.

To return back to Upstate New York—a world away from rural India—there are certain elements that remain interesting and useful to us. For one, it shows that a complex civilization can function quite smoothly in a situation where a majority of economic transactions are neither based upon the Market nor upon the control of a centralized State. That South Asian civilization has produced fantastic works of art, music, poetry, philosophy and theology is undeniable—what most Western observers do not realize was that this was done largely upon a Jajmani foundation. Despite the claims of radical Objectivists and Libertarians, it is possible to have a decentralized civilization without a ‘Market.’

Furthermore, it points to a more human-centered form of economics. What is to say that our oil changes, haircuts, floral arrangements (such as on holidays and birthdays), dry cleaning, shoe repair, tailoring, plumbing and carpentry repairs (as opposed to construction) have to be on-the-spot monetary transactions? Would plumbers, dry cleaners, etc, benefit from having guaranteed yearly incomes? I’m not sure, though I know for certain that their clients would benefit greatly from being able to budget in a regular small retainer expenditure instead of large one-time fees. Though most likely most of these would be cash exchanges (perhaps a single large payment once a year or smaller ones throughout the year), the Hindu example shows that the exchange of food, goods and services on ritual occasions can help to forge powerful inter-personal bonds. Can we imagine a world where an elderly woman worked out a system with her plumber to give him garden vegetables in the summer and baked goods around Christmas in return for the peace of mind that comes with the knowledge that she won’t be saddled with a devastatingly huge bill in a plumbing emergency [6]?

By removing cash from the exchange, it becomes a far more personal event, necessitating the building of deeper ties… which become the foundation of viable, healthy communities. Some of the uncertainties and worries that inevitably come with our modern Capitalist system would be alleviated. Cash would—like in India—never disappear, but we would no longer need to view the world as entirely within its bounds.

-Jesse

Interesting Articles:
Is the Caste System Intrinsic to Hinduism?
Changing Inter-Caste Relationships
A view of the modern, adapted Jajmani System
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[1] Mines, Diane P. Fierce Gods: Inequality, Ritual and the Politics of Dignity in a South Indian Village. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. 2002.
[2] Kumar, D.S.V.Siddhardha. “The Jajmani System in India”
[3] Though she reports that sometimes, probably for large jobs, they were given a wage in addition to traditional reciprocity.
[4] Kumar
[5] And also never ‘perfect’ or ‘self-contained.’ Miner describes how market and cash forces came into play and that the system was always more flexible and fluid than simple feudalism would allow.
[6] Of course, for the time being at least, some cash would have to exchange hands… the plumber has bills to pay after all. But as interrelationships like these grew, the need for cash would decrease as well.

Crowd Bites Coyote: Predator and Prey

2007-02-24T11:01:00.000-05:00

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“Kill every buffalo you can, for every buffalo dead is an Indian gone.”- Colonel R.I. Dodge, Fort McPherson, 1867

Unfortunately this was the kind of thinking that has gone on in the past and seems to be continuing throughout [sic] history. Recently I arrived home to find a new edition of The Valley News (Vol. #56; Jan. 16, 2007; Number 3) from Springwater, NY. The Valley News is pretty much roughly a few pages of articles, followed by advertisements, followed by more death notices and the such, then some supermarket ads, finally reaching to the last page’s article proclaiming - “Now That The Holidays Are Over: Filling TheEmptiness In The Pit Of Our Stomachs”- a religious article. That pretty much rounds out The Valley News, except for the front page advertisement. For on the front page beneath The Valley News header and spanning the rest of the page is an advertisement for a “Coyote Hunting Contest - Grand Prize $2,500 Cash with an entry fee of $10". You can also add on the price of a New York State Hunting License if you don’talready have one. The competition is being put together by
Dick Kraft Real Estate, Honeoye Fish & Game Club and Austin Master Services Inc.

I have lived in the area from over 23 years and I don’t believe I’ve evercome across a coyote. I was under the impression that only within the last 10 years or so when the coyote rumor mill started churning out sightings and the eerie moonlit night howl, but perhaps I’m wrong. I’ve heard of other people in the neighborhood shooting coyotes and else where in Upstate, but never did I think I would see a coyote hunting contest. It seems that coyote hunting is becoming a booming interest in the USA withover an estimated 500 such calling contests. On top of these contests theUS Department of Agriculture’s “predator control system” “destroys” about 80,000 coyotes a year on private and public lands nationwide. After I started learning more, I kept randomly stumbling across more fresh information- like a recent article published by The Democrat & Chronicle [Of Rochester] about a man’s coyote hunting experience.

Here are some coyote facts:
The Eastern Coyote at a glance: (NYS DEC)
Description: The Eastern coyote looks like a medium-sized German shepherd dog, with long thick fur. The tail is full and bushy, usuallycarried pointing down. Ears are erect and pointed.
Length: 4 to 5 feet (including tail)
Weight: 35 to 45 pounds (males usually larger than females.)
Color: Variable, from blonde or reddish blonde to dark tan washedwith black. Legs, ears and cheeks usually reddish.

Some other interesting information is that in Navajo Mythology the coyote is an important character:

Áłtsé hashké (First Scolder) or Mą'ii (Roamer) or (Coyote)- Generally regarded as the trickster, but who hangs around First Man and First Woman and through his foolish actions reveals the limitations of the spiritual and material realities and the consequences of transgressing them. He is the unwitting agent of First Man's and First Woman's creation designs and yet coyote is considered as a very dangerous entity because of his irresponsible and foolish application of his acquired and limited knowledge of the dual creative and destructive powers of creation, for his own personal egotistical gain. The consequences of his lack of foresight in the wielding these powers also applies to actions started at the material level of creation. Considered a Díyín diné’é.

In an article I wrote some time ago (Manual of the Zoo... [For Animals Not at the Zoo]) about the appearance ofanimals in cinema states:

I believe that on a large scale the appearance of these animals in cinema represents our collective desire as a civilization to express the mysterious and magical nature of these creatures. It might seem like we know so much about them, yet at the same time I think we know so little. Many people like to take the stand point that animals areinferior to human beings, therefore allowing for their exploitation byhuman hands; I however would like to believe that animals are intelligent,some perhaps more than others, and as many of the movies have pointed out,animals have something to offer us (other than their dead bodies).

It seems that the coyote is a vital part of our eco-system and that this spectacle of hunting them for competition can only makes our collective situation worse off. Yes, you can win $2,500 which would be a nice lump of appreciation in a lot of folks pocket’s around here, but I don’t think it can measure against a healthy eco-system. I also think that the relationship between predator and prey has gone aloof - I would be curious to know what they are going to do with all the coyote meat and fur. Will they just be hung up in their front yards, like I’ve heard taking place elsewhere in Upstate. Are you really doing this to survive or are you just taking another life to make some money?

What do you think?

***

"Why would I go to Safeway if I could catch coho in the stream outside my door? I wouldn’t. So how do those in power make certain I lack food self-sufficiency? Simple. Eliminate free food sources. Eliminate wild nature. For the same is true, obviously, for everything that is wild and free, for everything else that can meet our needs without us having to paythose in power. The push to privatize the world’s water helps make sense of official apathy surrounding the pollution of (free) water sources. You just watch: air will soon be privatized: I don’t know how they’ll do it, but they’ll certainly find a way.” - Endgame, Derrick Jensen

Sans Soleil by Chris Marker,Youtube Video(Year of the Dog) - one of my favourite movies ever!

Eastern Coyote Wikipedia

Coyote Killing Contest Prompts Howls

Hunting: The Competitive Spirit
Graffiti on the Rochester Legal Wall - 2005
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jefredomismo*
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Editor's Note: Jefredomismo's blog, http://loveyourdestiny.blogspot.com, is back online and making good use of a sweet new photo scanner. Check it out.
-Jesse

Tastes of the Region #14: Early Thoughts on a Finger Lakes cuisine

2007-02-22T17:36:00.000-05:00

Over lunch and later, while hiking, I thought about the forest and the farms of the Finger Lakes that I had seen and how generations of people had been supported by foods produced by this land. Devising a cuisine for this place, giving full expression as a set of tastes, seemed like a good idea. After all, almost any local cuisine would be an improvement on the current food system that burns corn for home heat, runs on huge quantities of hydrocarbons and incorporates petroleum distillates into our food.

Our technology allows us to transport goods and communicate information in a way that increasingly homogenizes the world’s food and diet by making all edible things seem equally available. A supermarket in our area displays foodstuffs raised in the southern hemisphere and transported and stored in specialized environments, so that we can enjoy our favorite foods no matter what the season, so long as we can pay for the ingredients. Helpfully, the market posts recipes for unfamiliar foods that can be torn off at the same time that the foods are being bagged and weighed for purchase.

On another hand, our preferences for certain kinds of food are durable. Ethnic foodways are some cultural components that last best and survive longest in “the melting pot.” When language, clothing, gesture and most other components of lifestyle have become Americanized, food preferences linger on.

As far as I know, no one in this particular corner of the melting pot called the Finger Lakes (roughly a 14 county area of 8,000 square miles around 11 lakes in west-central New York State) has considered what would constitute our “regional cuisine,” so we are free to imagine. Before a Finger Lakes cuisine can even be approached, there are practical concerns and questions that require some tentative answers.

The questions deal with the availability of transported foods, the season of the year, how much theory versus how much practice will be involved, a distinction between native and imported crops (and native to which regions), and the fidelity to/blending of other existing regional cuisines and ethnic diets. A regional cuisine predictably favors the native crops of the region over transported foods, while keeping the door open for others; addresses seasonal variability; offers both theoretical perspectives and practical suggestions; and avoids simply importing other ethnic foodways to fill in our own gap. In addition, it would be productive to ask what this cuisine is for and to provide answers that emphasize the various roles of food to give comfort, pleasure, and promote health.

The Finger Lakes region is favored with excellent soils and a good growing climate, hard as that may be to believe in the depths of January. We receive something like a yard of precipitation per year and more than half falls during the growing season. Our soils, a mixture of sand, silt, and clay particles left by glacial action, were formed and made rich by ten thousand years of forests and, where deep and flat enough, will grow anything not requiring tropic heat.

The Finger Lakes region supported people who ate well prior to the arrival of European fur traders and missionaries. These earliest people called themselves Ongweh Howeh, or real people, and ate a wide variety of foods provided by the local landscape. Like many other cultures, they devised recipes that turned the potential uniformity of a few basic foodstuffs into a diversity of tastes, a cuisine, as our French cousins would say. The word cuisine’s own history relates to the Latin coquina, for things pertaining to the kitchen and cookery and undoubtedly is rooted in role of the Roman household gods, their lares and penates.

Archaeological investigations indicate that people living in the Finger Lakes for thousands of years hunted and gathered plants and animals for their sustenance. They ate birds such as ducks, geese, turkeys and grouse; larger animals like white-tailed deer, beaver and bear, squirrels, possums and raccoons; and turtles and fish from the streams and lakes. They gathered the roots of plants like Jerusalem artichokes, leeks, and cat-tails; ate greens from plants now considered common weeds such as milkweed, cowslips and lamb’s-quarters; gathered plums, elderberries, strawberries, and black raspberries; used acorns, walnuts, chestnuts, sunflower seeds and hickory nuts for their meat and oil; and tapped the maple trees for their sugary sap.

The activities of these hunters and gatherers slowly changed the environment in which they lived by favoring certain plants and animals for their usefulness and discouraging others. The dividing line between hunting/gathering and farming is not as definite as you might think at first. If you saw that white-tailed deer were attracted to openings in the woods, wouldn’t you set some fires to create and maintain these openings? It would make your hunting that much easier if you could draw these animals closer by offering good browse. Likewise, if you gathered wild plants and prepared them to eat in your home, wouldn’t the seeds of these plants tend to fall in your yard? As these plants proliferated nearby where you could observe their progress, wouldn’t you notice that some were larger, stronger and produced more of what you wanted in greenery, seeds, fruits or roots? Wouldn’t you select seeds and cuttings from these better plants to re-plant near your home in order to have good things nearer at hand? The domestication of crop plants begins with observation and selection. The cultivation of domestic crops begins with altering the environment to create conditions favorable to their growth. A domesticated plant or animal is nothing other than a wild animal or plant so altered in its relationship with humans that it begins to require human intervention and management.

About a thousand years ago, and five hundred years before the first white visitors or colonists arrived, the Ongweh Howeh received a gift that would change their lives. Whether the gift was brought by migrating groups of people (probably coming north and east along the Allegheny River), or was brought by a long, well-established systems of trade, or was taken in the process of raiding neighboring people, it consisted of a few basic agricultural plants and information needed to successfully cultivate them: squash, followed by corn, and finally beans. Women, whose previous role had entailed preparing the gathered foodstuffs and perhaps nurturing early domesticates, found themselves in charge of the gardens. Men contributed to the gardens by clearing land and processing the harvest but remained primarily hunters, even traveling away from home and village for months to follow the food animals.

Whatever the origin and the transmission of the original seeds, they were also attended by sufficiently detailed cultivation instructions to assure their success. The Ongweh Howeh learned that land would have to be cleared for crops to prosper, that wood ash from the burned trees and the land‘s natural fertility would yield good crops for as long as a generation, and that movement to new villages and fields would be necessary to continue gardening beyond that time. They learned that corn, beans and squash would benefit from being planted together in mounded soil and would grow better if weeds were kept away from the food plants, requiring cultivation with hoes.

A regional cuisine for the Finger Lakes is necessarily grounded in this deep agricultural history and in one Native American word: succotash. Like many words scattered over our landscape, succotash originated in the east (the Narragansett coined the word misisckquatash for an ear of corn) and migrated west where it came to be applied to any dish that contained both cooked corn and beans. The Iroquois, as the Ongweh Howeh came to be called by others, had many variations on this dish but called succotash ogosase. A Seneca recipe gathered by Phyllis Williams Bardeau in Iroquois Woodland Favorites (2005) requires “6 ears green corn, 1 pint shelled beans, ¼ cup diced fried salt pork, and salt/pepper. Cut kernels from cobs and scrape off the milk. Place corn in a pot, add the shelled beans, diced salt pork and seasonings. Add water to almost cover (ewowe’sah). Stir frequently (da’ja’ne’) to keep from scorching. Cook for about ½ hour.” Archaeologist Arthur Parker’s Iroquois Uses of Maize (1910) specified that both sweet corn and Tuscarora-variety corn in the “green corn” stage were used, and Tuscarora Dorothy Crouse contributed a very similar recipe to Iroquois Indian Recipes (1978). Ethnologist F.W. Waugh’s Iroquois Foods and Food Preparation (1916) adds several details to the process: the corn was pounded to express its “milk” before boiling, half of a deer’s jawbone was the traditional corn-scraping tool, and maple syrup might be added for taste.

Succotash can be wonderful or awful. It is not a dish that cans well, but it has been canned, overcooked and piled on a plate of meat and potatoes in a way that is not encouraging. Usually, the canned beans are lima beans, a more southern bean than those raised in the Finger Lakes. But who would judge a food by its canned version? Remember that canning’s short history dates from Napoleon’s desire to fuel a huge army a long way from home in inhospitable climes.

We are not an army. We are close to home, our earth is not blackened, and at certain times of year when both the corn and beans are ripe, real succotash becomes a possibility. The absolute necessity for fresh ingredients means that real succotash can only occur for two and a half months of the year, between mid-July and early October. Break open the pods, shell the immature beans into a sauce pan and cook lightly in water enough to cover. Lima beans are okay, but almost any bean picked short of maturity can be a shell-bean. Shell-beans are partly mature beans in which the pod has not begun to harden and the beans have not developed their final, hard coat. Some Iroquois recipes call for “cranberry-style” beans, big fat ones. Take a sharp knife and score the corn kernels along their rows. Then hold the ear against a plate and scrape off the corn kernels. Go as deep as you can on the cob (to get the ‘milk’ as Bardeau calls it) and put the kernels into the sauce pan with the half-cooked beans. Some prefer younger corn for greater sweetness, but others like the texture of fully mature kernels. All the authors specify “green corn” for succotash, an important cultural distinction to the Iroquois who celebrate the appearance of that stage of corn development in late July or early August. In our time, sweet corn is corn that is delayed in the “green corn” stage of development, staying sweeter longer. Add some butter (unavailable to the poor Indians) and sauté briefly. Serve and eat with a dish and spoon, or eat it right out of the pan with the serving spoon. You may want to drain off a little of the liquid and replace it with cream (those poor, poor Indians) and re-heat.

Voila- the basis of a Finger Lakes regional cuisine. Admittedly, succotash still sounds like a side-dish, even with the addition of butter and cream. To make it more like a meal, add some dried or freshly fried summer squash to sweeten the mix, as the Jesuits noted in their Relations from the early 1600s. Yellow crookneck and pattypan would be the best squash varieties.

If you want more substance yet, consider frying and adding a few bits of fat meat as a garnish to the dish. Presuming that you have neither the fattier parts of bear, beaver nor deer available, a little fried-up or boiled salt pork a.k.a. side-meat or bacon would suit your purposes.

Salt and pepper would taste good on succotash, but neither would have been used in the old days. Remember that all those exploratory voyages were about discovering a new route to the spice isles to bring back peppercorns. The Iroquois got a peppery taste from adding smartweed leaves or black mustard seeds to the dish.

Salt was known in the New World but not trusted. The Onondaga regarded the salt springs in their territory as unhealthy, perhaps possessed. Instead of gathering salt from those springs, the Iroquois dried and burned coltsfoot leaves and used the salty ashes as a seasoning. To the detriment of their health, colonial settlers ignored the Indians’ warnings about the overuse of both salt and tobacco.

Waugh notes that most of the true Iroquois dishes were either some form of bread (baked or boiled) or stew (like succotash) and could have been seasoned with a “handful of gnats.” Anyone trying a first bowl of traditional Iroquois corn soup (whose ingredients are exactly the same as succotash but treated and cooked differently) would find it bland, but they are more likely to reach for the proffered salt and pepper, or sugar, than get themselves a handful of gnats, a slug of maple syrup, or coltsfoot ashes. Convenience and authenticity are often at odds, but perhaps the coltsfoot and the cream are worth a taste.

Succotash is a promising beginning, but remember that its season is less than three months. For the rest of year, a Finger Lakes cuisine would need to rely on stored foods, root crops, animal flesh (migrating birds, salmon runs), seeds, nuts and greens. Each of five or ten major seasons would have its dominant flavor, though some form of corn would appear in each. Parker says early travelers among the Iroquois were “impressed with the number of ways of preparing corn and enumerate from 20 to 40 methods.”

The Finger Lakes region was colonized by successive waves of immigrants, beginning with New Englanders moving inland, followed by English, Scots, Irish, Germans, Poles, Hungarians, Slovaks and Slovenes. The migration has never ended, though its points-of-origin have changed over time to Bosnia, Ethiopia, Guatemala, or Hong Kong. Almost all the early colonies were full of hungry people, and the mortality of colonists from hunger and Native Americans from disease was astounding. The ongoing hunger seems to prove that the Old World crops did not find a place quickly in the New World and that the colonists did not readily adopt New World foods and crops, which were all around them. It’s almost a cliché to say that the earliest colonies were saved from starvation and failure only by the intervention of the native people or food stores stolen from them.

Of course, there’s more to eating than simply having the foodstuffs available, and it must have taken some time and experimentation for the cooks to find ways to make the new foods not only palatable but delicious. To whom could they look when considering the uses of an ear of corn? The Iroquois maintained eight or ten main varieties of corn whose strengths were exploited by various means of preparation. Parker makes it clear that the Iroquois had developed elaborate methods to roast, fry, dry, re-hydrate, bake, soak, hull (treat with wood ash to make hominy), boil, grind into meal and flour, and even rot the ear of corn so as to have potentially a variety of dishes from that same ear.

Yesterday, I carried my lunch in a freezer bag in my backpack on a long hike along the Interloken Trail in the Finger Lakes National Forest. I stopped for lunch a mile or so on my way, sitting on a shady but dry wooden walkway, not far from the intersection with the Backbone Trail. While eating, I noticed that the boardwalk supported a colony of carpenter ants that came out to investigate the sugars they smelled in my lunch. The boardwalk was shaded by a small stand of beaked hazelnut (Corylus cornuta), a highly edible nut when ripe later in the season, if you can beat the squirrels to them. At points on the trail, wood thrushes sang and pileated woodpeckers drummed.

I was carrying three sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper and kept cool by the cold cans of Adirondack grape soda also in the bag. Two of the sandwiches were sliced chicken, made from a thigh sautéed in a mixture of grape syrup (grape jelly which failed to set in 1994) and hot pepper flakes. Over the sliced chicken in the roll was a light slaw of chopped cabbage and broccoli stems with a grating of carrot and onion and a little vinegar dressing. There was so much failed wild grape jelly in 1994 that I’ve been devising recipes to use it ever since. The wild grapes were gathered in October from the roadsides near Hi Tor, Sunnyside and Vine Valley in Yates County. The sandwiches were made on long rolls baked by Petrillo’s of Rochester, a stronghold of Italian-Americans which, although only on the periphery of the Finger Lakes, might be honorarily included for its bread. I saved the second sandwich for a spot remembered from an earlier walk, beneath a stand of big oaks in an open field, an oasis of shade in a cow pasture.

The third roll was smeared with chunky peanut butter, non-native ingredients but crushed into a paste by the Once Again Nut Butters of Nunda, NY, an old hippy co-operative outfit. Against the organic peanut butter was absolutely fresh blackberry jam, which had been berries hanging on prickly stalks in roadside and hedgerow stands less than twenty-four hours before. Picked with some pain, carried in baskets, sorted, washed, and cooked into a deep magenta paste, gelled, sugared and preserved in glass half-pints, the berries produced surplus in the pan for a few sandwiches. The menu was a practical one, mandated by the heat of the day, need to carry and be handy to eat outdoors.

In its early phase, a cuisine for the Finger Lakes would need to be simple but capable of expansion and greater complexity as it comes into contact with new foods, new preparations, and other cuisines. It should be healthy, though of course anything can be taken to excess. Both succotash and grape-glazed chicken sandwiches are healthy in the sense of being well-balanced nutritionally as well as satisfying the needs of an active life. The cuisine implied here is also sustainable in the sense that we know that the crops flourish here, skilled farmers could be paid to produce these crops, some ingredients could be gathered at no cost at all, some beginning has already been made, and there is a long history behind this cuisine. These foods are affordable so they could be widely distributed and eaten in the area.

I’m not posing as a culture czar, but I will make a pitch for some foods that seem central to my enjoyment of life in the Finger Lakes. They are foods that I can grow in my garden or gather from hedgerows and roadsides, and the prospect of experimenting with their tastes is exciting. Some are literally as old as the hills; others brand new to this place. Making food that tastes good is an experiment. When I teach kids about wild poisonous and edible plants of the area, sometimes I have to explain the skill that goes into cooking. I point out that their parents don’t feed them a big spoonful of wheat flour out of the bag, but that a skilled baker can take that flour, treat it properly, add some other ingredients and produce a sweet roll. The same thing goes for wild edible plants- I give them a grape or an elderberry to sample the taste- it’s sour! Someone who knows food, like your mom, can do something with this taste. Ohhh.

Another new Finger Lakes cuisine could begin with our wines. Though grapes have been grown here for 150 years, our wines remained undistinguished until recently. Because of several amendments of New York State tax law in the early 1980s, farm land is taxed at a lower rate, and small, farm-based wineries are exempt from regulations that have hampered upstate New York’s economic development. With these modest advantages, farm-based wineries have flourished in the Finger Lakes, growing more than hundredfold in twenty-five years. Though their production is still small compared to that of the Napa Valley, these wineries have begun to produce wines of unique flavor and to attract national attention. How long it will be before the local cheeses and breads that are the proper accompaniments of these wines will be crafted by expert cheesemakers and bakers? Let me re-phrase the same question: Who will milk the sheep and goats twice a day daily? Who will get up at 3 a.m. to bake today’s fresh bread?

-by Stephen Lewandowski

More Snow

2007-02-20T20:53:00.000-05:00

Here are a few shots by Kate Tomlinson of Ithaca in the snow... she's obviously a better photographer than I am. You can see more of her work at her flickr page, she also has a site at www.katetomlinson.com.
-Jesse

Town and Gown: Looking closer at Syracuse and Aurora

2007-02-18T22:09:00.000-05:00

These days, it appears that there is a push in many circles to break down the ‘Ivory Tower’ and bring the resources of academia to the aid of the surrounding communities. Numerous colleges have begun programs in service learning, where students work at charities as a form of education; at SU, anthropology graduate students (like myself) can take a class in ‘collaborative action research’[1] for their methods requirement.

These relatively minor academic pursuits have recently become more substantial. In cities like Binghamton and Syracuse, politicians and pundits are looking to the Academy for the solution to the problems of our declining city-centers. It is undeniable that a large University can have tremendous economic and cultural effect upon the surrounding community, but before we throw ourselves completely upon the Ivory Tower (or the art world), it is probably a good idea to examine the possible effects. So, for the purposes of comparison and discussion, I would like to bring up the contrasting examples of Syracuse University-Syracuse and Wells College-Aurora.

Syracuse
Syracuse University is, according to the Post-Standard newspaper, the largest single employer (7,371 employees) in the city and undoubtedly numerous other business and individuals survive on the existence of the students in the community (see the SU Economic Impact Report for more info). Over the past 20 years Syracuse has continually declined in population and wealth; on any drive through the city one can’t help but notice rows of abandoned houses and empty stores.

With the arrival of Nancy Cantor, the University’s new Chancellor, SU has adopted a policy of community engagement called: “Scholarship in Action.” The new Chancellor has attempted to bring SU and Syracuse closer together in order to build the community.

One of the biggest projects is the Connective Corridor. Corridor is a proposed link between the University and Downtown; according to the website:

When completed, the Connective Corridor will consist of a vibrant pedestrian and bicycle pathway with distinctive landscaping, lighting, benches, historical information, and public art spaces. An accompanying public shuttle bus route will be offered free of charge to riders commuting between cultural venues, shops, hotels and Syracuse University.

The design will hopefully bring traffic to poor neighborhoods between the Armory Square and University Hill. Also included is a plan to clean up Onondaga Creek and turn it into an ‘urban forest.’ This will build upon the earlier project, The Warehouse, which turned an abandoned downtown warehouse into an art gallery and school of architecture.

This plan, of course, still in the future, though I’m excited about the possibilities. One of the Chancellor’s plans for students to ‘Explore the Soul of Syracuse’ was to give all of this year’s Freshmen $50 gift cards for them to use Downtown. The problem with the cards was that they were set up through Mastercard… meaning they were useable anywhere a card could be used. According to a recent story in the Daily Orange (the independent student newspaper), few of the cards have found there way Downtown, but wer instead used at chain stores in the mall or for online purchases.

Aurora
While the jury is out on Syracuse and Chancellor Cantor’s plan to restore prosperity to the city, the community is not as ambivalent in Aurora, NY. Wells dominates Aurora economically even more so than SU to Syracuse. The village has a population of 720 and the college has roughly 200 employees and 500 students (according to Wikipedia).

In 2001 Wells College joined with alumnus Pleasant Rowland (creator of the American Girls company) to restore its buildings in downtown Aurora. In an attempt to “improve the historic character and attractiveness” of Aurora, buildings were destroyed and exteriors were altered. By 2002 the Aurora Coalition, a community preservation organization was formed to stop Rowland and Wells—who they accused of remaking the town without any public input and of destroying or remaking historic structures in the name of ‘historic recovery.’ The town has become polarized over the issue and legal measures have been undertaken (and have largely failed). Many fear that Aurora is being gentrified and that locals will be forced out of their community by Rowland’s ‘improvements’.

The Aurora example shows us the possible difficulties that our communities face when they turn to the Academy for revitalization. This is different than relying upon a corporation—because a university is either a non-profit or a government agency—and is not solely motivated by the profit margin. However, our local communities must remember that while collaboration with a University (or a philanthropist like Rowland) can bring tremendous resources to bear that would be otherwise unavailable, their collaboration can also mean the community losing power over its own development. In the worse case, the community can be transformed beyond recognition and the locals can find themselves gentrified out of a home.

-Jesse

[1] Collaborative action research is a form of research where the researchers works in partnership with a community organization in order to help them to answer their questions.

Syracuse Snow

2007-02-15T20:49:00.000-05:00

I've had some requests from far away lands (Minnesota) to put up some pictures of our snow. Granted, Syracuse hasn't been hit nearly as bad as a few points north of here, but I thought that since I can't get up there (I can't get my car out of the driveway yet, though I did dig for a few hours today), this will have to do. So here is the snow up in the 'Cuse today.
-Jesse

Tastes of the Region #13: Breweries and Brewpubs

2007-02-11T17:09:00.000-05:00

Of the many trends and fads that sweep America, some have more substance than others. The mid-90s, along with Roseanne and pogs [1], saw the appearance of ‘micro-breweries’ and ‘brewpubs’ in large numbers upon the American scene. The American beer scene of the 1970s and 80s had become highly homogenized; beginning with Prohibition, the American beer industry had become centralized into the hands of a tiny number of corporations—led by Anheuser-Busch—that standardized beer around mild, pale lagers.

The reaction against national beer uniformity around what many considered to be a relatively insipid standard, was that many beer affecionados turned instead to homebrewing in the European ‘cask beer’ style. Slowly, some of the more successful homebrewers began opening brewpubs (a small brewery with its own pub attached) and microbreweries (small scale breweries with local distrobution).

Able and willing to focus upon flavor and variety, these small operations have risen to 3.04% of the national market. This seems small, and it is, but it must be noted that sales of craf beers in the USA have risen every year for 36 years and they currently produce 6.25 million barrels of beer a year[2]. Craft beer is the fastest growing segment of the American alcohol industry.

The growth of the craft beer industry has paralleled the rise of similar movements in organic food, local food, artisan cheese and Slow Food—they rise out of a shared concern for a growing homogenization of, and decline of quality in, the American diet. Unfortunately, this shared affinity has not been fully recognized by either side—most organic beers are from overseas (Germany and England from my experience), American craft brewers pride themselves on traveling overseas to buy hops (especially from Central Europe) and, for instance, my co-op does not carry organic alcohol.[3] This is especially painful for us here in NY, since at one time (back in the halycon days before Prohibition), we were the source of the finest hops in the United States. Hops barns in the Hudson Valley and the Leatherstocking region moulder into oblivion as our local brewpubs fly to Germany.

Recently, though, there has been a glimmering of change. For the first time in 50 years, a local brewery has created a beer entirely using NYS hops: the Ithaca Beer Company’s Double Pale Ale. On a similar note, the national Brewer’s Association has begun an alliance with Slow Food to promote craft beer not only as a form of artisan food but as a politically charged alternative to food homogenization. We can perhaps begin to see a future where small local breweries using local grain and hops create a regional drinking culture where the land’s bounty can be tasted.
In the meantime, for those of you who are now hankering to try a local beer, I have set up:

A York Stater’s list of Upstate microbreweries and brewpubs

Whether you live in Corning or Plattsburgh, there is probably a local taste right in your neighborhood. For instance, Syracuse, where I live today, has two excellent choices: the Middle Ages Brewing Company and the Syracuse Suds Factory (I’m partial to The Beast at Middle Ages and the Irish Red at Syracuse Suds). You might also want to check out this article on Ommegang brewery in Cooperstown and the future of NYS beer tourism and http://www.pubcrawler.com/ for a national listing of such establishments.

-Jesse

[1] On a bizarre side-note, the Army Airforce Exchange Service has begun issuing pogs as a form of currency in Iraq and Afghanistan stating that shipping metal currency abroad for the soldier’s use has become prohibitively expensive. Here’s a site dedicated to them: http://www.aafes-pogs.com/
[2] Statistics from http://www.beertown.org/craftbrewing/statistics.html
[3] Though, this may be for various legal complications of which I am ignorant.

Snowboating Across New York

2007-02-07T22:55:00.000-05:00

That was a year of several major snows, the kind that the Alberta Clipper pushes down on us from Canada, and coming over the Great Lakes it gives us quite a belt. I was snug enough at home, a beautiful New York State farmhouse called The Cricket built about 1850 overlooking the valley estate of that village’s most eminent family. Their farmers clipped the pasture just over the split rail fence; their gardeners tended the formal gardens which we viewed, from a distance, with great pleasure.

I was living about 150 miles as the crow flies east of my hometown, in a village by historic Glimmerglass Lake and not far from the Catskills. You’ve probably heard of Cooperstown in the context of the Baseball Hall of Fame, but this was before that small town was destroyed by the malignant growth of baseball memorabilia. Its pharmacy sold drugs by prescription, its market food and its jeweler watches in a beautiful downtown setting, and not as it is today where the shells of businesses remain but inside they are all “collectibles.”

Cooperstown also hosted the New York State Historical Association which, with the state university, sponsored a graduate program in American folk culture. I was a student in the folklore program taught by the man who wrote “Things That Go Bump in the Night.”

Around mid-December when we the holidays were coming up, my girlfriend from Glen Lake, Minnesota came to visit. Jesse and I had met four years before at a Quaker school in Pennsylvania, and we had a lot in common. We both liked to travel and were students of philosophy and natural history. We kept in close touch. She had arranged to stop with me in Cooperstown as part of longer trip east, and we agreed that she would travel with me to my parents’ home just before Christmas.

At the Cricket, there was no television; there was a small radio but no good stations within miles so we scarcely listened. I never would have thought to look for a weather forecast. We piled our gear in my car late on Friday afternoon and drove off.

The car was the first one I ever owned: a cream-colored 1967 Plymouth Valiant. “Violet” was imbued with many magical properties to go along with its trusty slant-six engine. I had traveled across the continent in Violet, and she and I had lived beside the Puget Sound for a year. One of her fabled properties was that she was “good in snow.” I helped that with sand bags in the trunk and studded snow tires. The Valiant had been a small car in the year of its manufacture but survived long enough to become at least mid-sized. As its springs deteriorated, it wallowed a bit like a boat sideways, an effect exaggerated by the rear-wheel drive.

As we drove north to connect with NYS Route 20 for the trip west, the dusk seemed to fall unusually quickly, aided by gusts of snow. In fact, it was snowing hard from the moment we left until the moment we arrived hours later. Night had fallen by the time we reached 20 in Richfield Springs, and the road began to grow indistinct. It was as if our headlights were feeling their way along, and we were pulled behind.

Main Streets of West Winfield, Nelson and Cazenovia were lit and decorated for Christmas. We bustled past the displays.

South of Syracuse, 20 rises and falls over a series of hills and valleys, remnants of the Appalachians. Going up the hills, we seemed to be in a constant, semi-controlled skid. Coming down, I worked the brake lightly and used the whole road. We climbed to Pompey, then descended to Big Bend, crossed Butternut Creek swathed in snow, and rose to LaFayette. At LaFayette, we nodded north to where the Onondaga Reservation lay in darkness. From LaFayette, we descended to Onondaga Creek, sweeping by the village of Cardiff, where the stone giant had been buried (we’d visited him, lying naked outside in the cold, protected only by a shed roof at the Farmers Museum).

The road and its signs became part of the general blanket of snow, distinguished only by an occasional light or marker. The snow was blowing in from the northwest and formed drifts across the road that lifted us slightly as we breasted them, like a boat in waves. I aimed for the centerline, to allow the maximum clearance for error. A few other cars approached on the road, and they seemed to be following the same principle, since we would aim right at one another then pull to our side within a few hundred yards. I joked about it with Jesse, to let her know it wasn’t accidental.

After crossing Onondaga Creek, we were on a long rise into Navarino, then Skaneateles, and finally Auburn, where U.S. 5 & N.Y. 20 combined for our westward trip. Coming into Auburn, the streetlight globes were shrouded in snow as we proceeded downhill into the business district on Genesee Street. It seemed like everything but the bars had been closed down by the storm. We had been on the road four hours, saw few other travelers and wanted to stop somewhere safe and warm. At just the moment that we began to wonder if there was any place in Auburn for us, the Parkside Diner appeared, all lit up and open for business.

The Parkside is a railroad-car-style diner that sits on a steel trestle above the Owasco Lake Outlet and, being a stormy Friday night, had left-over clam chowder as a special on the menu. The warmth of the diner reminded me of how tired the tension of the drive had made me. Jesse and I had talked at first, listened to radio reports of the storm blowing in, then grew quiet.

At the diner, the bright lights and warmth made an enchantment. I’ve never known food so delicious nor company so pleasant. There were only two or three customers and as many waitresses, all glad to be comfortable inside, watching the drifts pile up in the parking lot across the street. We each had a piece of pie, which tasted fresh and home-made, and several cups of coffee.

It was hard to leave the diner. I looked back on its warm lights as we drove away west. But I knew that, though the storm might increase, we were only sixty miles from home and 5&20 settled into the same trough once occupied by the Erie Canal, so we’d been through the worst of the hills. In fact, the next leg of our trip took us across Montezuma Swamp near its juncture with Cayuga Lake, through once-suffragist Seneca Falls and Waterloo and along the canal linking Cayuga and Seneca Lakes. When the bright crown of lights appeared along the Seneca Lake shore, guiding our entry into Geneva, we were on familiar ground and needed only to push through the next fifteen miles of familiar landscapes half-hidden by snow, past local landmarks of roadhouse and gas station, to see the glow of Canandaigua’s lights in the clouds at the horizon before us.

-by Stephen Lewandowski

A long-time York Stater, Steve has published eight books of poetry and his poems and essays have appeared in regional and national environment and literary journals and anthologies. An environmental educator, he is a founder of the Coalition for Hemlock and Canadice Lakes and has worked with numerous environmental and community organizations in the western Finger Lakes.

His most recent book of poems, One Life, was published by Wood Thrush Books of Vermont. His work is either forthcoming or recently published in snowy egret, Bellowing Ark, Pegasus, Hanging Loose, Free Verse, Avocet, and Blueline.

The AAA Dilemma

2007-02-05T20:47:00.000-05:00

I’ll be the first to admit that there have been moments in my life when I have been deeply thankful for Triple-A. Driving towards Buffalo one cold winter night, I blew a tire and found myself without a spare on the side of the superhighway—would have been a complete disaster without the AAA. Once, on Route 390, they helped me when my engine gave way and one time I went off the road during a whiteout and they called someone to give me a pull. But honestly, I—like most AAA members I assume—didn’t give the organization much thought when my car wasn’t trapped in a snowbank. Their card, which one sociologist I met described as “the membership card for the middle class,” sat innocently next to the ones from Blockbuster and Wegmans.

It’s funny how the most innocuous of objects can come to be so ominous when you come to understand it.

My first hint of trouble came when I was reading Hope, Human and Wild by Bill McKibben and he was talking about the crusading mayor of the Brazilian city of Curitiba. He was attempting to improve air quality and community involvement by promoting safe, clean public transportation and converting a major street into a pedestrian thoroughfare. His staunchest opponents were the members of the local car club, which I found peculiar. Suddenly, I remembered the little card in my wallet for the American Automobile Association, perhaps the world’s largest ‘car club,’ with over 46 million members.

To make a long story short, I went (like most young people today) to the Internet and had my worst suspicions confirmed. AAA’s critics run the gamut, from the guys on NPR's Car Talk, to the Sierra Club, to Harper’s Magazine. AAA, it seems, uses its members’ money and clout (46 million members is quite a statement) to oppose the Clean Air Act (the AAA claims that cars don’t contribute to smog)[1], public transportation, fuel efficiency standards and even bike paths![2] Ken Silverstein, writing for Harper’s Magazine, describes:

In 1999, AAA opposed new rules that required cleaner-burning exhaust systems for cars, trucks, and SUVs, and two years prior assailed an EPA proposal requiring states to reduce levels of smog and soot. In 1990, AAA even fought the strengthening of the Clean Air Act - a measure supported by three fourths of Americans - on the grounds that it would limit the "personal mobility" of motorists.

According to some reports, in the 70s, it opposed making seat belts and air bags standard in automobiles[3]. It is involved in the lobby groups for both the pavement and the automobile industries—bringing its wholesome image and millions of members dollars to their side. The worst part, in my opinion, is that the AAA never explains this openly to its membership. The NRA, for all their faults, is open about its orientation and what it does with member’s money; no-one joins the NRA thinking they’re just getting a magazine. AAA, however, claims to speak for its membership yet never reveals to those same people its motivations or actions. The board of the AAA is not elected, but a self-perpetuating group beholden to little but its own whims.

So, what are we to do about it? Trade in our membership cards and hope we don’t run off the road during one of this winter’s snowstorms? Well, there’s that choice, but there is another option. A group of environmentalists (oh no, not them!) has set up an organization called the Better World Club. Their website (http://www.betterworldclub.com/) claims:

Anyone who has competed with AAA has said, "we're just like AAA." Better World Club says "our roadside assistance mirrors AAA's, but we're nothing like them or other auto clubs. We have a unique policy agenda."

Better World offers similar services, with roadside assistance from 50,000 service stations, help unlocking your car, membership discounts, etc. They are a bit different though, as Better World attempts to utilize its members funding (openly) to decrease our dependence on both cars and oil.

Unlike AAA, you can get assistance not only for your car, but also for you bike if you have trouble. They offer special benefits for hybrid cars and donates 1% of their funds to environmental protection.

My mother always insisted on being practical and looking at the details, which I wholeheartedly support, so for a complete comparison (good and bad) between the two organizations, check: http://www.betterworldclub.com/competition/aaa_chart.htm.

So perhaps you’re ready to mail AAA your card along with an angry letter and perhaps not, but hopefully you’re a bit more aware of the options. Best of luck and happy driving.

-Jesse

PS: I know that this isn’t “Upstate specific,” I promise that my next article—on Upstate breweries and hops—will be much more so. -J

[1] “Don’t Blame Cars for Smog AAA says.” The Environmental News Agency, Sept. 29th, 1999 (http://www.betterworldclub.com/articles/ens1999sep29.htm)
[2] “AAA—Who knew?” The Sierra Club. (http://www.sierraclub.org/e-files/roadside_assistance.asp_
[3] “AAA Paves the Road to Hell” by Ken Silverstein. Harper’s Magazine, May 2002 (http://www.betterworldclub.com/articles/Harpers2002may.htm)

Heritage Music Concerts in Saugerties, NY

2007-02-01T09:49:00.000-05:00

Folk Music Concert Series

"From the Mountains to the Valley" is a concert series celebrating the unique musical history of the Hudson Valley and Catskill mountains. All concerts take place on Sunday afternoons at 3:00 at the Dutch Arms Chapel, 16 John St. in the village of Saugerties, NY

Spring 4/29/07 "Catskill and Hudson Valley Folk Songs"
including songs by Henry Backus the "Saugerties Bard.” Rich Bala, folk balladeer will present a program which will include songs of the 19th Century songwriter (1798-1861), Henry Backus, who was called "The Saugerties Bard". He was the composer of romantic, regional and historic songs such as “"My hearts in Old Esopus" and “Explosion of Steamer Steindeer “. Rich Bala performs authentic, traditional folk music that weaves a tale of living history about our nation's people and heritage.

Since 1986, Rich has performed at coffeehouses, festivals, concert series, schools, museums, libraries, and historic sites from Boston, Massachusetts to Beaufort, North Carolina. Rich has taught courses, using folk songs to illustrate various aspects of history, at many Elderhostels, teacher training workshops, and conferences sponsored by The NY State Historical Association in Cooperstown, NY, and also at the SUNY Field Campus in Ashokan, NY.

Fall 10/14/07 “Songs of the Hudson River Valley”
Husband and wife team Kevin and Carol Becker on vocals, guitar, mountain dulcimer. Start with deep roots in traditional folk music, add musical versatility, mix in both historical and contemporary themes, all seasoned with a healthy dose of good-natured humor, then enjoy a performance by Kevin & Carol Becker with Rich Keyes.

Performing together regularly for over ten years, Kevin, Carol, and Rich have developed a unique sound that combines breathtaking vocals, instrumental dexterity, and a synergy that comes only from an intimate knowledge of each other's talents. That sound starts with Kevin's intricate finger picking on guitar, augmented by his impeccable harmonica playing. Carol's soaring vocals, clear, bright, and pure, stand out when solo and form compelling harmonies with Kevin's soothing, comforting voice. It's all anchored by Rich's solid rhythms on upright bass and his driving bluegrass-influenced banjo. They feature other instruments as well, notably mountain dulcimer, recorder, bodhran, Appalachian limber horse, and various whistles.

Their repertoire ranges from historical ballads to songs of social significance, from traditional folk songs to compositions by contemporary artists. Original material and instrumentals add to the variety. Their easy manner and relaxed stage presence encourages audience participation, and contribute to their uplifting and entertaining performances. Besides appearances at coffeehouses and festivals, Kevin, Carol, and Rich perform at schools, libraries, and historic sites such as Phillipsburg Manor, Mount Gulian, and Eleanor Roosevelt'Val-Kill. Their latest CD, This Hudson River Valley, is a collection of songs that tell the history, celebrate the people, and reflect the grandeur of the Hudson Valley.

Past Concert
The first of the Heritage Music Concert series took place on September 24, 2006, at the The Dutch Arms Chapel.This concert featured Bob Lusk, local folksinger/folklorist and fiddler Regina Scheff. Included were songs of the Scotch-Irish immigration of the 1700’s, the French & Indian war, songs of the quarrymen and lumberjacks, square dances and fiddle tunes. A lot of the material drew from the research in folk music done by Norman Studer, Norman Cazden and Herbert Haufrecht during the 1950’s at Camp Woodland in Phoenicia. NY The Chapel is the former home of the Seedling Nursery School. It was also know as a local coffeehouse back in the late 60's. In recent years it has become a popular listening place for the John Street Jams.

Bob Lusk is an Irish Musician living in Ulster County, New York. He is a popular performer of a variety of folk traditions. For many years he has researched traditional music of New York State. He is a long time member of the Hudson Valley Folk Guild, and a former staff member of Sing Out! Magazine, the country’s premier folk music magazine. A veteran of both the Irish and American folk circuit, Bob is an experienced balladeer and multi-instrumentalist. He sings in a strong baritone, from rousing pub song favorites to tender love songs and accompanies himself on guitar and banjo.

Regina Scheff is a traditional fiddle player with an exquisite musical sense. She has been playing for 20 years and studied at the Folkloric Music Center in Kingston. She regularly plays for English Country Dances and has performed for both the Elmendorf and Wilderstein historical restoration projects.

The concert was enthusiastically received by all who attended. Much thanks to Steve and Terri Masardo from the Chapel for helping to make this happen.

Editors Note: You can contact the organizers of the Heritage Music Concerts by post at: 61 Wurts Street Kingston, NY 12401
by phone at:845-338-8587
or by email:heritageconcerts@aol.com

Check out other York Staters posts about music here. -N

Photo group

2007-01-28T17:09:00.000-05:00

For those of you who enjoy an occasional visual interlude, I've set up a flickr page of some of my favorite Upstate photos. Enjoy!

-Jesse

The State of...Upstate?

2007-01-27T12:10:00.000-05:00

We recently received a short email in our box from 'Brian' that read:

....I love your site.I think it helps give us a sense of belonging to our area. I have always felt that upstate should be a separate state and that we should have our own flag. Something simple like New England's Pinetree flag. What do you think?

The idea of Upstate New York seceding from New York State (or New York City seceding, which would do the same thing) is one that has been danced around in this blog without being directly addressed; we always remain studiously neutral on such issues. Well, since we're up for all types of debates here, I thought it might be interesting to bring up both Brian's request for flag ideas and the topic of secession in general. The idea of one area of a state seceding from another is not a new one. States created in this way include: Vermont from New York and New Hampshire), Kentucky and West Virginia from Virginia, Tennessee from North Carolina and Maine from Massachusetts. The last time this occurred was with West Virginia and that was during the context of the Civil War (1863).

There are several advantages to secession including:

1) Control over local laws. Many of the laws governing taxation and business in New York are created around the idea that businesses will be willing to pay for the privilege to exist in New York City. Of course, that doesn't help us much and may be one of the causes for our continued economic depression.
2) Reflection of our values. Upstate tends to vote more on the libertarian (less government) end of the spectrum and an Upstate state may allow Upstaters to have a government that reflects their values.
3) Protection over local interests. We are susceptible to NYRI, the flooding of the Catskill Valleys and other such tragedies because of our close connection to the City.
4) Development of an Upstate identity and Upstate culture. We could begin to emerge out of our 'shells' and express who we are to other Americans, foreigners and--of course--ourselves.
5) Between ourselves and NYC, there would be a net gain of 2 Senators. In addition, there would always be Senators from our region representing us in Congress; likewise, our Electoral Votes would be decoupled from the City's.

Disadvantages also mount on such a momentous idea as secession:

1) We are economically weak and benefit in many ways from our attachment to the City.
2) It would be a legal nightmare to break the two regions apart. This has not been done in a long, long time. We may have other, more pressing issues to deal with.
3) For Liberals in our region, there would be a relative weakening of status. This could be an advantage, if you're a Conservative.
4) We currently enjoy the prestige both nationally and internationally of the name "New York," we would most likely lose this in a secession event.

I, of course, have probably missed several advantages and disadvantages. What do you think of Upstate secession? A good idea? Absurd? Moreover, what would the new state be called? What do you think would be a good flag?

The idea of a flag--a uniting symbol--is one that I particularly like. A flag does not necessarily have to represent an independent state, there are flags for ideas and dreams. Thus, we will be accepting submissions of ideas for Upstate flags at york.staters@gmail.com, they can be in JPEG or GIF format (or written if you're not much of an artist). We'll survey them, and if there are a number, submit them for public discussion. Perhaps it can become something of a logo for us to come together around to search for a new direction for our communities.

-Jesse

Updates

2007-01-25T12:51:00.000-05:00

We're finishing up our technical switch-over to Blogger Beta. A couple of additions to the site that you might want to take note of:

In the left-hand column, there is a new link for a subpage of Stops Along the Way, our newest column, which deals with the geography of everyday life.

In Upstate Essays, I've added a link to "Pit of Equality," my analysis of the Syracuse Hardcore music scene, as well as the posts on sustainable housing and Emma Goldman. Finally, Skaneateles has been added to our What's In a Name? page. We will be returning to our regularly scheduled programming shortly.

-Jesse

Changes

2007-01-22T10:08:00.000-05:00

As you have probably noticed, York Staters has recently changed its format. We are switching over to Blogger Beta. We're working out the technical kinks in our layout, so if you notice anything that just doesn't quite work right or that we missed, please drop us an email at york.staters@gmail.com

Also, we're pleased to let you know that the comment function is back up an running again. We're glad to see this as we've realized during the time that it was disabled (we've really got to learn how to use computers) that your comments help keep us going and excited about this project. To read other comments or make a new comment, click "0 Comments" (or however many there are) at the end of the post.

Thanks for your patience with this time.

-Jesse

Tastes of the Region #12: Creamy Winter Vegetable Soup

2007-01-21T19:41:00.000-05:00

This periodic column, Tastes of the Region, details local dishes from across Upstate New York, from the ethnically-inspired meats of Buffalo to the delicious grape pie of Naples. Today, I'd like to offer up a recipie for creamy winter vegetable soup. While this recipie is something of my own creation, it is inspired by numerous old local cookbooks purchased from used book stores around the state.

The practice of varying our diets in accordance of the seasonal changes has all but vanished from mainstream life. Upstaters think nothing of eating bananas in Febuary or pumpkin pie in June; a few holiday dishes aside, there is no seasonality to our cooking because of the rapidity of modern food transport and the industrialization of the food industry. It was not always this way and a rich seasonal style of cooking developed here in the temperate zone; four seasons blessed us with the necessity of varying our diets. Much of this richness and the enforced creativity has been forgotten now that we can eat our favorite foods year round (though this is counterbalanced by the growing variety seen in the major food markets).

A growing number of people, however, have become deeply concerned over the environmental and social costs of shipping our food in from Argentina or California on a daily basis. Simply put, it takes alot of fuel to ship your iceberg lettuce overnight from the San Joaquin valley. Of course, industrial agriculture has its own environmental costs and the composite effect on our faming communities has been disasterous.

So, for those desiring a taste of winter, either to explore tastes that perhaps aren't as common today or looking to assuage their eco-guilt, I offer up my interpretation of this old Northeastern standby:

Creamy Winter Vegetable Soup

2 Tbsp Butter

2 Tbsp Flour

1 Medium Onion, sliced

2 Garlic Cloves, crushed

Salt, Pepper, Thyme, Sage, Basil

2-3 Bullion Cubes

1-2 Carrots, diced

1-2 Parsnips, diced

1-2 Turnips, diced

1-2 Potatoes, diced

1-2 c. milk

1.) In a large soup pot, melt the butter and fry the garlic and onion over medium heat until they are clear. Add 2 Tbsp flour and mix up to create what our neighbors to the north call a 'roux'

2.) Add 3 c. water, bullion and herbs. Bring to boil, simmer 5 min.

3.) Add vegetables and milk. Bring to boil, simmer 15 minutes or until thickened. Add a thickening agent (cornstarch or flour) if desired. The soup is ready to eat at this time, though it benefits greatly from a long slow simmer (stirring ocasionally). You'll want to adjust the milk accordingly to the time you simmer it so that it doesn't become too thick or burn to the bottom of the pot.

Except for the pepper, bullion and possibly salt, all of the ingredients for this recipie are traditional to the region and available in the darkest days of winter. You want to be careful not to allow the potatoes to dominate, as the flavor should be based on the parsnips and turnips.

For those interested in the environmental costs of industrial agriculture, I suggest this article. For more hints on winter cooking in the Northeast, check out this short essay. If you're interested in slowing down your life and enjoying your food a bit more, you might want to visit the Slow Movement. If I've gotten you fired up about eating local and in season, you might think about checking out the Eat Local Challenge. Best of luck and enjoy your dinner.

-Jesse

Graveyards of the living

2007-01-18T01:18:00.000-05:00

Driving through rural areas of Upstate New York, one of the more prominent, and surreal architectual feature is the self-storage facility. Long and low, windowless with row upon row of rolling metal doors, they hover at the edge of rural communities like graveyards.

I remember as a small child asking my mother what those strange buildings were for. "For people to store things, honey." I gave my typical response to any answer: "Why?" Out of the thousands of 'whys?' that I asked between age 4 and 10, I remember this answer better than any: "Because sometimes people have to move away from their homes but can't take everything away from them, so they rent one of those to keep their things in."

It's amazing the effect that such a trivial comment can have upon a child. While today I know that the self-storage industry (led by the mighty Public Storage, with 1400 facilities across the nation) has many uses, but in my imagination every one of those empty doorways represents someone who has gone.

I can't help it, but when I drive by those long rows of buildings they come to represent my friends far away - John, Hammie, Ryan, Lindsey, Dan or one of the many others - those who left for places more exciting away to the south or west, or perhaps just a place where they can get a decent job. They left their home, but when they did, they left a piece of themselves there; like grandma's furniture that can't be fit in the UHaul, but is to precious to sell, memories of them linger here.

Sometimes they return, to open up the rolling door and dust off the family china set. Other times they linger elsewhere and back here, at home, paying the self-storage rent becomes less and less important until finally, that cubicle is emptied. To be filled by another. Like tombstones without names, for me, every self-storage unit marks the passing of a friend.

-by Jesse

Braving the heat in Upstate New York

2007-01-14T21:11:00.000-05:00

Some time in November, when the first little snow flurry made Syracuse sparkle, I thought it would be appropriate to write a post about dressing warmly in the cold as a way to help enjoy being outdoors during the long winter. I planned on writing it during the first real cold snap. Well, as everyone knows, that snap has not come.

In fact, 2006 is the warmest year on record in the United States and the third-warmest globally.

While we usually focus entirely upon local issues in this blog, I would feel remiss if I did not make my sadness and anger heard on this issue. Global climate change is a world problem, but one that is intensely local. There is no way to insulate a community from it or to distance yourself from the problem. It is an Upstate problem. It is a Buffalo problem. It is a Candor problem. It belongs to all of us. (To take stock of your own contribution, I highly recommend this Earth Day Ecological Footprint Quiz, it only takes a minute or two).

So what are we to do about this problem? Is it hopeless?

Since its inception, this blog has advocated a rebuilding of strong local communities as the solution to many of the problems plaguing Upstaters. Risking the possibility of sound like a broken record, I would like to promote local community action as the only effective way to combat global climate change. We can't wait for the President, we can't wait for Congress.

What can you do? Buy local: at Wegmans get the NY state apples and milk, even better, join or frequent your local food cooperative and buy food from farmers in your community. How does this help? Think about all of the energy it takes to bring up apples from Chile or lettuce from California. Furthermore, the money you spend stays in the local economy, helping to keep our family farms up and running and our landscape beautiful. What would Upstate be like without cows grazing on the hillsides or rows of corn in the valleys?

You can walk, bike or take public transportation more often. Not only do you save power, but you can get good exercise and, perhaps, get a chance to see your local community at ground level. The best way to come to know, love and keep abreast of changes in your community is to walk through it. You'll notice things you never saw before, take my word for it. Taking public transportation brings you into closer contact with the community--both the people in the bus and with the local government (they can always use keeping an eye on).

Consider allowing wind turbines into your community, sure they aren't much to look at, but I'd rather sacrifice a single hillside view than to loose all of the colors of fall. What's more important to you, foliage or one viewshed?

For a list of simple things you can do in your own home, check here.

What do you think about this winter we're having? What have you or your community done to about climate change? I look forward to your thoughts, observations or rants.

-by Jesse

Sylvia’s Farm: The Journal of an Improbable Shepherd

2007-01-13T20:56:00.000-05:00

I was recently sent a copy of Sylvia’s Farm, a memoir by Delaware County farmer Sylvia Jorrín, along with a request to review it for York Staters. I am new to the book-review game, and was flattered by the request. Thus I decided to bring the book—a hefty 258 pages—with me on my recent vacation and see what I thought.

The work is laid out in a series of vignettes, each about 2-3 pages, detailing the observations and ruminations of a single day in the life of Mrs. Jorrín. The book is suitably subtitled “the journal of an improbable shepherd,” since Jorrín never intended to become a shepherdess and was woefully unprepared when she found herself in possession of 85 acres and a dozen sheep; she had never owned even a dog before this. In the fifteen years since then, her farm has grown to over 100 sheep, chickens, ducks, barn cats, angora rabbits, sheep dogs and a little donkey named Giuseppe Nunzio Patrick MacGuire. She has the habit of naming all of her animals including Zorro the rooster, Pierce, Prentice and Prescott the barn cats and a long list of Scottish-inspired sheep names: Mary Queen of Spots, Snow White and Rose Red Abernathy, Little Molly Malone and Ally MacBeal.

At its best, Sylvia’s Farm echoes the sentiments of Thoreau’s Walden; certainly both were born of Yankee pragmatism and the hard land of New England. Like Walden, this work details the long, quiet, singular search of the individual for harmony with world and understanding of his or her place within the world through labor and reflection upon the cycles of the yearly round. She is akin to the Buddhist masters in her desire to live mindfully and consciousness. For Sylvia, working on the farm with her beloved animals is part of God’s plan and it is belief that infuses the work—though always that faith is subtle and never preachy or haughty—and it is belief that holds together the farm.

Sylvia looks back upon a world that has passed and tries to grasp something of its wholeness and meaning in her own life. At the same time, you feel throughout the book that she sees her work as inevitably destined to failure because of the simple fact that, like Thoreau, she is a single voice in the wild: “I [of my family] live closest to the life on my grandfather’s farm. But there is a difference. Although I live not so very differently from the way my grandparents did then, my style is different, in form as well as in content. But there is one more important thing that is different. There was family all around them. Friends. Relatives. Community. There were ties that could be broken only by death and even then continued. There were so many of us sitting around that table in those days” (87)

The work is not without its weak points, however. The zen-like quality of writing flows from one moment to another, but never brings drama to any peak; it is less a story and more a collection of moments. Thus even powerful, emotional events such as the collapse of her barn or the death of a beloved friend fall flat and carry the same voice and weight as her thoughts on a sunrise or the preparations on the coming of winter. It is a book that makes a point, but does so so early in the work that it leaves itself nowhere to go in the second half. The story of Sylvia’s farm is told in a hundred different ways, each subtly different, but these shades are often lost in the sparse writing style and short vignettes.

In conclusion, I would recommend Sylvia’s Farm not to those interested in farming, there is little technical information to be gleaned from within it, but to those who are also seeking to understand their place within the pattern of the world. For those few, I suggest not reading the book through, but taking it in pieces and—like Sylvia—ruminating over them in the early pre-dawn light or late at night.

-By Jesse

Technical Difficulties

2007-01-09T15:44:00.000-05:00

I just noticed that the comment feature isn't working (and probably hasn't since the beta switch) I apologize to those who tried to leave comments, and I'll work on rectifying the problem. In the mean time, if there's anything you'd like to tell us, send us a good ol' fashioned email! -N

Stops Along the Way #2: The Block Barn

2007-01-09T10:24:00.000-05:00

Known to locals in Cuba, NY as the 'Block Barn,' it is "on Route 305 just past the Conrail overpass south of the Historic District. Constructed in 1909, this structure, which is made almost entirely of cement, spans nearly 350 feet long and is completely fireproof. It was built to house William Simpson's "McKinney" horses. It has been a popular stable and it was said to have housed horses for the Czar of Russia and once was considered by the Anheuser Busch company as a spot to house its famous Clydesdales."

by Jesse

New York State Courthouse Architecture: Website and Webcast

2007-01-08T07:15:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you stumble upon something on the internet that makes your heart skip a beat (in a good way.) Today is a banner day, dear readers, for a treasure trove of Courthouse architectural info has been found:

The Historical Society of the Courts of New York State
You can view county courthouses, appellate court buildings, and several assorted city courthouses, and read about their histories. The catalogue is not quite a complete one (where art thou, Columbia County?) but an interesting compendium. It also contains an in-depth history of New York State's oldest still functioning courthouse, Fulton County.

You can also watch a webcast of a recent lecture by Henry N. Cobb and Paul Spencer Byard entitled "The Shape of Justice: Law and Architecture" co-sponsored by The Historical Society of the Courts of New York State and the New York State Court of Appeals. I confess, I have yet to watch the video, which is over an hour in length, but the fact of its exsistence is interesting in itself. Who would think the Court of Appeals would have a lecture series?

Thanks to the blog of the RPI Building Conservation/Historic Preservation Masters Program, which posted a link to the lecture information previously. Our fascination here at York Staters with the counties of New York State and the Courthouses of said counties is well documented: check out the County Courthouse Series.

Posted by Natalie

The Canal Songs, and other Upstate Folk Music: Anglo and Indian

2007-01-05T09:17:00.000-05:00

I figure there are some songs ingrained in our brains since birth; and I couldn't tell you which or why, but they're the ones that even if you only know a line- you know the melody, and probably classify the tune in the weird realm of "children's songs." Fortunately, most of those songs are homegrown American folk, of course influenced by the Anglo folk melodies and imagery of Ireland and the British Isles- but still telling American stories.

I came upon the American Folk Series of recordings by the Lomax brothers, that's now the most popular part of the Library of Congress (LOC) audio record (probably because it holds everything ever recorded by Leadbetter) when I was in high school. I figure most people who are interested in the old folk recordings, probably are because they listened closely to Bob Dylan (an Upstate resident for a long time, but that's a different topic.)

Anyway, a personal anecdote; it amazes me how much little kids know, and I like to give them little quizes about the names of animals and stories and such... So I was playing guitar and singing a few of the "kid songs" for my girlfriend's seven-year-old sister. I played her "Buffalo Girls" (which Folkies figure is a variant of the song "Louisiana Girls", but we'll say it's an Upstate song anyway) and she knew the melody and some of the words and said she knew the song, so I said 'I bet you don't know this one,' and started with the simple "I've got a mule, and her name is Sal." and she more or less screamed the refrain back at me "Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal."

Now that song was written in the 20th century, well past the canal heyday, but there is an important tradition in our folk music that is known as the Canal Songs. "As the Erie Canal was essentially the nation's only school of engineering, many who worked on the original waterway went on to help construct other canal systems, roadways and even railroads. These individuals took with them the music of the Erie..."[1]

A few of the Canal songs that I could come up with, that I don't think are in the Library of Congress Field Recordings Archive: The Raging Canal, Afloat, Low Bridge!, The E-ri-e, Boating on Bullhead, The Good Ship Calabar From Buffalo to Troy... Someone wrote a book about the New York canal songs, but you'd have to look it up.

Here's a video of Bruce Springsteen singing either Low Bridge! or Buffalo Girls, I can't remember which.

My interest in the LOC folk Archive was really just Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly, but I did discover Songs and Ballads of the Bituminous Miners as opposed to Songs and Ballads of Anthracite Miners... Which were unfortunately mostly Pennsylvanian and W. Virginian in origin.[2]

But there is the other side of the coin here in Upstate, besides for our Anglo-based Canal songs (ok, there's afro-american strains in there too) we have the recordings of the Iroquois: Songs from the Iroquois Longhouse, and Seneca Songs from the Coldspring Longhouse. One can obtain any of these LOC recordings for nine dollars, or in packages from private sellers. The Iroquois recordings were made in the early 1940's by a guy named Fenton, and I haven't heard the Coldspring recordings but I have heard most of the Iroquois Longhouse. The Tracker's Boasting Chant, Song of the Hunchbacks or False-Faces, and Marching or Dream Song for the Winds are great surreal sounding tracks.

This is the most important record of Folk recordings after the Library of Congress audio archive:
http://www.ibiblio.org/folkindex/index.htm

By Joe

York State Rag by Old Dutch Church - a musical submission

2007-01-03T09:52:00.000-05:00

Editors Note: Gentle readers (and listeners), I present to you this very special submission from Joe and John, ( formerly known as Betty and Veronica, now as Old Dutch Church) the York State Rag. Click here to visit their MySpace page and groove to the Upstate tunes. - N

Unlike most songs written nowadays down in Nashville or Memphis, this song wasn't. This song was written up in the north country, up in the Parlour City...

Picking at my pockets, picking at my bones
if they start picking up my fence posts, I'll be picking up a stone
I'm on my own, change has come and gone

I take exception to the rulers,
they aint gonna come into my home,

Scratching at my collar, throwing down the phone,
what's another dollar to a man who won't atone?

Catskills, Leatherstocking, one less job and one job more,
Spitzer's come a knockin', a knockin' at your door
York State folks are flocking, settling the score
where's our new John Chapman, have we forgotten lore?

- York State Rag by Old Dutch Church

Pictures from the filming of the Good Shepherd

2007-01-01T14:08:00.000-05:00

(Top) A generator truck. These things made an awful racket and spewed a nasty diesel slick over everything around them (it took me forever to scrub it off my car). (Bottom) The Main Lodge in the evening before the shoot, decorated with extra landterns and lamps.

Floating platforms used for holding cameras on the lake and for fishing in off hours.

(Top) About half of the tent that the caterers served the main meals under. (Bottom) Crane in front of the Main Lodge, one of several used to hold cameras, lights and other equipment.

Posted by Jesse

DiNiro, Jolie and Damon in the Adirondacks

2006-12-31T17:43:00.000-05:00

Two summers ago, when I was working at Great Camp Sagamore as a tour guide, we were privileged to be the site of the filming of a major motion picture, The Good Shepherd. The Camp, in fact the entire Central Adirondacks, were abuzz for some time before hand with discussion—despite attempts at secrecy. I thought that now the film has come out, it would be a perfect time to relate reminiscences of my glimpse behind the scenes.

About a week before the filming began, a number of what appeared to be semi trucks arrived. The teamsters began to set up equipment, especially their trucks, which turned out to be massive portable generators and a set of huge cranes. They also constructed large floating platforms that the cameras would eventually be placed on.

The night before the filming, a massive caravan arrived around 3am: tech squads, sets, equipment, actors, costumes, makeup, directors, food (called ‘craft services’) and who knows what else. Dozens upon dozens of all types of vehicles.

Having acted a bit on the stage, I think for me the most distinctive features of film acting is the fact that it is incredibly boring. The same scene is repeated 10, 20, 40, 50 times, each time with cameras at a slightly different angle, or with tiny modifications to the lens or acting style. Just outside of the camera lens are dozens of people, holding equipment, clipboards, food, or simply watching. Anyone can watch, sometimes from only a few feet away, so long as they don’t get in the shot or make a noise. The entire camp remained absolutely silent during filming—numerous directoral assistants with headphones were positioned around the set to maintain the absolute quiet. It was a world away from the week before, when we housed a children’s camp.

Filming went on throughout the day and night—not continuously but staggered throughout, with preparations for a shot going on when filming wasn’t. Lights on the cranes could transform night into day; large (10-15 m) screens carried by crews of men could transform midday into twilight.

Now, the food at Sagamore is generally delicious, however, any chef becomes a bit tiresome after four or five months. I think that, after the initial excitement wore off, perhaps the best part of the experience was the food. Simply put, movie stars eat well. Not just the stars, but everyone. Three meals a day were served under a huge tent, with perhaps the longest buffet line I’ve ever seen. All gourmet. Not only that but a snack-shack, similar to ones that serve fried dough at the state fair, was open 24 hours a day.

Of course, I’ve drawn you in with stars in the title of this post, but I haven’t mentioned them yet. The film is directed by DiNiro and he was a regular presence about the set, biking from one end of the camp to the other at all hours. The other big names that were around—note I haven’t spoken to any of them—were Angelina Jolie, Matt Damon and William Hurt. Of Angelina and Matt, we saw little: when not actually in filming, they were found up in their trailers. When a shot began, a black Lincoln Navigator would drive up and pick up the star in the shot, it would drive them the approximately 400 meters to the shot and idle the entire time they were filmed. If Angelina and Matt were in a shot together, there would be two Navigators waiting side-by-side to take them to side-by-side trailers. William Hurt, on the other hand, walked back and forth, socialized with us common folk and ate under the big tent with all of us.

It was in all a strange week, a mixture of tedium and silence with the strange and wonderful. You can see Sagamore, and a few famous names, starring in the Good Shepherd today. You’ll recognize the Main Lodge in the background of a large party shot, I’m told the one where Angelina and Matt meet each other for the first time (I haven’t seen it yet myself, though I will soon).

-Jesse

Dealing with the dark

2006-12-29T14:02:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking lately about the release of Dave Gilmartin's book "The Absolutely Worst Places to Live in America," with proclaims Syracuse to be "the crown jewel of that impressive collection of horrible midsize cities known as Western New York." The indignant response not only from Syracusians (check out Sean Kirst's column) but, as I can see it pretty much every city in the book. The situation reminds me of one of the more tragic scenes from Michael Moore's first (and perhaps finest) film: Roger and Me.

In that film, the local elite of Flint, Michigan- a city spiraling into a hellish implosion after GM pulls out all its factories- spend the afternoon burning piles of magazines (I think it's time) after it names Flint as the worst city in America. Throughout the film, these local boosters repeatedly put on a sunny face and proclaim that all the problems will soon be solved.

Now I'm not saying that Syracuse is akin to Flint in those dark days. In fact, I largely agree with Kirst that I find Syracuse and, in fact many of those "horrible midsized cities known as Western New York" to be fine places to make a life. Gilmartin goes to a bit of the extreme when he declares it to be one of the "dirtiest, smelliest, most miserable cesspools and armpits of this great land of ours" (that's a quote from his website). I'm surprised that he was shocked to have offended anyone. That said, he did apologize for the offense.

At the same time, Gilmartin does have a point. What is a community, like Syracuse or Buffalo or Elmira or Binghamton do when so much is lined up against it? What with snow/grey weather, unemployment, pollution, etc? I will say this much--denying that we have a problem and attacking the messenger won't solve the problem.

So let me bring up an example of ingenuity making a difference. Many people cite weather as an insurmountable problem, "there's simply nothing we can do about it" they announce. It's certainly true that we get more of our fair share of bad weather but I think we cannot hold a candle to Anchorage, Alaska. Average winter temperature are from 5-30 degrees and they have rainy, cool, short summers plagued with horrific mosquitoes. Granted, Syracusians will say "ok, that's not too bad," but the real problem is the fact that in the winter, they only 27% of the sunlight that us in southerly climes enjoy. People who work indoors go weeks in the winter without seeing daylight. This leads to seasonal depression, suicide and other social problems. Let's not forget that Anchorage is a city cursed with ugly '70s architecture, which probably doesn't help matters.

So what is a city to do? Anchorage shows us that its all about attitude. Dubbing itself the "City of Lights," they have come up with a unique response:

'City of Lights' is a community-wide program Started by the Anchorage Chamber of Commerce in approximately 1983. Mayor Rick Mystrom helped get the program going with his enthusiasm. This is completely a volunteer effort to help brighten the long, dark days of the city, giving the city almost a magical look. Some say that Anchorage is one of the most beautiful winter cities in the world. Thousands of citizens and businesses alike join in the “City of Lights” programs by placing miniature white lights as a decoration around home, trees and many other objects throughout the city.

According to the Official Homepage, the city has a big festival to start up the lights on October 27th and that individuals donate money in order to buy lights for public places and those who can't afford them. There are competitions for the best lit businesses, neighborhoods and homes.

Do I think attitude changes everything? No, that's a bit too optimistic... you also need a whole bunch of lights. But I also think that rejecting the messenger of coming doom and gloom does nothing to change the accuracy of his prophecy. We need to take what's good about our communities (not just Syracuse but all of them), mix in healthy doses of creativity and energy and see what comes out. Even winter doesn't have to hold us back

-By Jesse

Under Construction

2006-12-27T11:31:00.000-05:00

Hello, fellow York Staters! We're switching over to the new Blogger (formerly Blogger beta) so you may notice some changes in the next several days. -N

Trompe L'oeil Building Facade in Poughkeepsie NY

2006-12-22T21:49:00.000-05:00

Posted by Natalie

Adirondack Great Camp: The Santanoni Preserve

2006-12-20T11:18:00.000-05:00

Editor's Note: This is the second of two posts submitted by Stef, the erstwhile author of the now-defunct Excelsior! Ever Upstate blog. Thanks go to her for donating her informative posts on the Third Onondaga County Courthouse and this one on Adirondack great camp Santanoni.

During the summer between your first and second years as a historic preservation grad student at Cornell, it is highly suggested that you take on an internship with a preservation-related organization. I landed a dream-come-true sort of position with Adirondack Architectural Heritage last summer (2005), living in the Gate House of and working at the Santanoni Preserve in Newcomb, NY.

Here is a bit of a blurb about Newcomb from my final report to AARCH:

If you aren't familiar with the Adirondacks, the town of Newcomb may come as a bit of a shock to you. As a native Upstater, I was well aware of the sort of hidden nature of Newcomb. There is no gas station, no supermarket, no discotheque, no hipster coffee shop, no sushi. What you will find in Newcomb is a town with no real business center, instead, it is stretched for a few miles down 28N. You can get ice cream and snacky-type food at Scoops and pick up yours and Santanoni's mail right next door. You will thrill at Bissell's store, but do not plan on doing all of your shopping there. Most of your grocery shopping will probably be done at the North Creek Tops (and you will find a shopper's club key tag in the desk drawer), with an occasional run to the Long Lake Stewart's or their small grocery. There is also a diner/general store just a short ways down the road from the Camp entrance as well as the Newcomb House across the street from the entrance if you are in need of libations.

So, I think I am making the point that there is very little in Newcomb. That, of course, is why spending the summer in Newcomb is so special. You will have managed to hide yourself away in a tucked-away little town and then go even further back into the woods, to a place that, while it has the story of a blockbuster movie, is still a secret to many.

Usually, AARCH has at least two interns working at the Preserve every summer, providing interpretation to visitors and working with the master timber framer and his crew on rehabilitation and conservation projects. However, due to a number of circumstances, I was the lone soul in 2005. In some ways, I wish there had been at least one other intern with me so that I could have learned from them and we could have certainly gotten more things done. However, I feel that I had a unique experience that I wouldn't trade away.

As I mentioned, the Preserve has an amazing history. It was built for Robert Pruyn, a prominent Albany banker, and his wife, Anna, to provide their family with one of the rustic getaways that were eventually dubbed the "Great Camps" of the Adirondacks. Santanoni was one of the first, with its construction taking place around the same time as the creation of the Adirondack Park in the early 1890s. The history of the Pruyn family's time at the camp is fascinating enough, as you trace their story from the era of Victorian elegance through to the extended family continuing to visit the camp in the more utilitarian post-war 1950s. The Japanese influence of the camp's design as well as the innovations in wilderness farming are enough to satisfy a historian's appetite.

Santanoni also has another more tragic chapter, though. The Pruyn descendants eventually sold the camp in the early 1950s to the Melvin family of Syracuse, also prominent business leaders. The Melvins enjoyed the camp until 1971, when one of the grandchildren, a boy named Douglas Legg, went missing and was never found. There are many rumors and speculation surrounding his disappearance, some completely ridiculous (stolen by band of roaming hippies), some cruel ones involving the boy's mental state and his uncle, and some plausible. I was lucky enough to speak with one of the New York State Troopers who handled the case and he related a story which I believe is the most likely of all the scenarios, involving the boy making his way over to the other side of Newcomb Lake and, due to heavy brush, disappearing from the sight of searchers. The state police were contacted by a former soldier in the 1990s who told them of a hunting trip he had been on in the late 1970s. He and a friend thought they may have come upon the boy's body, but were not aware of the story at the time and it was only when the camp came back into the news due to AARCH's efforts that they learned about Douglas Legg. Another search took place, but no evidence was found. The thing I find frustrating about the more salacious stories is that I don't think many people realize just how disorienting and difficult the terrain can be in the area. Just north of Newcomb is the High Peaks area and we've all heard about adults getting lost in there.

Truly, though, it is a tragic story and also led to the deterioration of the site as the Melvins sold the camp and it eventually ended up in the hands of the state. And so began the delicate balancing of caring for a historic site and managing a wilderness landscape.

I could go on for many more pixels about my time at Santanoni (and maybe I will in future posts), but for the moment, I strongly urge anyone with an interest in the Adirondacks, wilderness, architecture and/or preservation to visit the Santanoni Preserve. It is a truly unique site, a National Historic Landmark, and a place that needs much support right now as it finds its new identity (which is, indeed, a topic I should come back to). I am more than willing to answer any questions you might have about visiting, or you can contact AARCH for more information. Another great resource is the book Santanoni: From Japanese Temple to Life at an Adirondack Great Camp by Robert Engel (the first Santanoni intern), Howard Kirshenbaum, and Paul Malo.

(please click through for more photos)

(FYI - If you've read the York Staters at all, you probably know that Natalie and Jesse both worked at Sagamore, another Great Camp located in Raquette Lake [two Sagamore-ites did come visit Santanoni while I was there, I don't recall their names though]. I recommend taking a trip next summer to both camps to compare and contrast their stories.)

By Stef

Hemlock & Canadice: The Last Two Undeveloped Finger Lakes Face Possible Development

2006-12-18T15:11:00.000-05:00

Reporting directly from Hemlock, New York - The Finger Lakes Region
By Phaedo from the Land of Whiskey and Pumpkin Pie
December 17, 2006

“Recent developments make an all-encompassing crisis plain to see. Society could scarcely be more bizarrely unhealthy, but is getting even more so all the time.” -John Zerzan, How Ruinous Does It Have To Get?

This mourning I woke up and I happily sleepy eyed looked out the window upon Conesus Lake. It was lovely with some whips of fog rising slowly over the waters. Later I traversed back to Hemlock and was a bit surprised to find an article about Hemlock and Canadice Lake on the front page of the Democrat and Chronicle - a popular Rochester newspaper. I was a bit shocked by what I found in the article and after thinking about it for a while, I’ve decided to write this article.

For the past 23 years I have lived in Hemlock - perhaps I will still live here in the future. The surrounding environment is absolutely stunning and it makes for an experience to not soon be forgotten. Within an average 10 minute drive (or better yet timeless bike ride!) from my residence I can access four different Finger Lakes - Hemlock, Canadice, Conesus, and Honeoye. Honeoye and Conesus Lake have private property landowners along there shores, but Canadice and Hemlock Lake are both undeveloped and instead owned by the city of Rochester. For the most part these two lakes are open to the public. Venturing down to Hemlock or Canadice makes for some pretty rugged wild adventures into the woods where the bears hibernate and the bald eagles soar. Sometimes late at night I can hear the coyotes howling at the moon. The two lakes are magical spots that have magnificent ancient histories surrounding them, including but not limited to being one of the largest tracts of old growth forest in North Eastern America, located along the shores of Hemlock Lake. Some of the trees along Hemlock Lake date back 400 to 500 years (and possibly more, thus making it one of the largest and most unique old growth forests in all of North Eastern America. Trees that existed long before the foundation of the United States of America and what came to be known as Hemlock.

Among the magik; 15 years ago the only place to find a nesting pair of bald eagles in New York State was in these old growth forests at Hemlock Lake. With this protection the birds were able to survive and now one is able to find many more nesting bald eagles in the area. I’ve been lucky enough to witness these giant birds of prey swoop down over my head as I watched in awe. This is only one of the great things that has happened and is currently happening in and around the Hemlock and Canadice region.

The two lakes have some strict regulations surrounding them legally. For instance, certain areas of the two lakes have restricted access, permitting no one except the city of Rochester. You are also not allowed to take a boat over 16' feet in length; canoes 17' feet in length or boat motors that exceed 10 horsepower. Some more laws include not being able to swim in the lakes, even though it is extremely tempting on those lovely summer days. A little tip, if you want to go swimming on those hot summer days or just do some polar bear club during the middle of winter, it would be best to go to where the swimming is allowed - such as Reynolds Gull. Lower Reynolds Gull is also owned by the city of Rochester and is public property, where swimming is allowed in the cool waters that rush down the three enormous waterfalls. Unfortunately, the three waterfalls are all on private land and access is only allowed by permission from theowner, but you can still take a dip in the refreshing waters that help fill Hemlock Lake by visiting the smaller pools and falls of lower Reynolds Gull.

Hopefully, I’m drawing a clear enough picture for you to realize how important these two places are to our civilization. Hemlock and Canadice are two Upstate, New York towns that hold part of the key to our collective future. Hemlock Lake and Canadice Lake should remain forever wild and the surrounding community should be able to directly participate in the decisions that most effect their lives, such as the preservation of this eco-system in their backyard. The old growth forest should remain and no one should be allowed to profit from these natural resources that we are so welcome to have in our back yard. We need to support our local communities and realize how important the wilderness is, along with rural towns and the part they play. The Finger Lakes region of Upstate, NY along with the Great Lakes make for one of the highest, if not the highest concentrations of fresh water in the entire world and we need to protect these natural resources from further development along with promoting a more sustainable lifestyle. Otherwise, I hate to say it, but we are really in trouble as a civilization; for I believe that we need to make drastic changes in order to have a sustainable future on this planet.

In The Forest Beyond the Field: The Consequences of Domestication
by Kevin Tucker it states that:

Its gets harder and harder to imagine a world different from the one we are born an raised into. It gets harder to imagine that the way people interact now is not how humans have always been. So we give in. We accept this reality as our only reality. We accept that humans have a natural inclination to take action at the expense of each other and at the expense of the world at large. We try to make the best of our time and that is that. Some of us turn to god, some turn to politics, some turn to sedatives (electronic or chemical); we turn anywhere that we can find some break from the dry, inhuman condition that drowns us.

Let us get back to our roots. Let us get back to our roots. As I mentioned at the beginning, the Democrat and Chronicle published an article today about Hemlock and Canadice Lake on the front page of the Sunday edition. I’m pleased to see the attention given to this dire issue and I also thought that it was a very informative, well written article. Although, one critique I have of the article is that the authors either forgot or didn’t bother to mention anything about the old growth forest on Hemlock Lake in their notes about the area. To have not mentioned this large tract of land that could be worth millions and millions of dollars to loggers and instead resort to solely mentioning that private interests are indeed interested in the area seemed a bit light. I’m no insider, but I think that one of the main interest groups in the development of Hemlock, may actually be the logging companies that could stand to profit millions of dollars. Unfortunately, the history of Hemlock, a name that was given to the town due to the large amount of logging that took place there, may repeat itself, in a vicious cycle. From the very foundation of the United States of America, a war has been waged upon Hemlock. This can be seen from the fact that George Washington, the beloved first President of the United States ordered the attack of the native population of the area by giving permission to General Sullivan to go on the offensive.

The 1779 Sullivan Campaign emerged as one of the larger of the Continental Army's offensives during the American Revolution, yet remains relatively unknown. It was an act of reprisal to break the Iroquois Confederation, a Native American political and military alliance that included the Seneca, Cayuga, Mohawk, Onondaga, 0neida, and Tuscarora tribes. The Iroquois, with the exception of the Oneida and Tuscarora, openly sided with Great Britain to protect their homelands.

Sullivan’s Campaign marched right through what is now known as Hemlock, with some solider’s supposedly burying great treasure amongst the hills of Hemlock. Skipping over the last 300 years or so, we go into a fast forward motion to the present, where we hear from the Democrat and Chronicle that “the Monroe County Water Authority and the city of Rochester, are about to begin discussions that could lead to a radical restructuring” which could lead to a possible ownership change for Hemlock and Canadice Lake. Rochester Mayor Robert Duffy wants to permanently preserve the land which encompasses the two lakes, but has also not ruled out the possibility of development. Rumors are also around that some folks would like to develop the land and although the specific groups are not mentioned in the article it seems that one of the prime prospects for making a profit off of Hemlock Lake could come from logging companies. Logging of the trees surrounding Hemlock Lake and Canadice Lake should stop immediately and measures should be taken at all costs, in order to preserve the two areas from further encroachment and destruction.

It has been stated that years ago, the city of Rochester made $5 to $7 million dollars a year in profits from the water system. This money was later stated to be pumped back into the city of Rochester and its surrounding projects. I’m unaware of the exact details, but it seems like Hemlock and Canadice have been excluded from a share of the profits, even though they are the main sources of the resource, these towns have not seen their fair share of mutual aid. This is not to say that Hemlock and Canadice should be developed industrially, but that there are more positive community projects to put the money towards that could change the situation, by even the smallest donation. Coming from someone outside the government, it seems like this is just another example of our overly bureaucratic government at work. Supposedly, in 1996 and 2002 the Water Authority offered $88 million plus debt payments towards the water system that encompasses Hemlock and Canadice Lake. How much would you pay to have these two lakes forever preserved? I know, that if I had that much money (which I don’t), I would surely put it on the table in order to protect the area from development, so please cough it up - money bags. Unfortunately, it seems like a lot more money will be needed in order to buy this piece of property - even though it was stolen from the original inhabitants, being exactly those who lived here before what is now known as America existed.

We can only hope in our hearts that the decision process, which seems to be taking place behind closed doors (sound familiar? It’s democracy at work) realizes the importance of protecting and preserving Hemlock Lake and Canadice Lake. It is extremely saddening to see profits drive a majority of folks to the ends, in sole attempt to survive - we need to change the way we live in order to circumvent this possibility.

Let us meet our neighbors and talk about our lives. We don’t need bulldozers and trucks in order to create something new, all we need is ourselves and the idea that we can raise this barn together, as a community.

RAISE THE ROOF

***
You also might want to read these related articles:

Hemlock Lake: An Unequivocal Exclamation By Phaedo of the Land of Whiskey and
Pumpkin Pie

Pitting lakes vs. water needs By the Democrat and Chronicle (Rochester
newspaper)

Pit of Equality: Syracuse Hardcore

2006-12-17T17:51:00.000-05:00

Those of you who read York Staters regularly know that a few months ago, I published a post entitled "315 Hardcore-- Westcott Style," which detailed the prevalence of an underground music scene called 'hardcore' that thrives in Syracuse and across Upstate. What most readers did not know was that it was a compilation of my thoughts on my ongoing ethnographic research on the Syracuse Hardcore Scene (I'm a graduate student in anthropology at SU). Well, the first phases of the research are done and have been submitted to the proper authorities. In the meantime, however, I believe firmly in the sharing of academic research, both with the 'studied' people and with the public in general. Thus, as part of that duty to give back, I have placed my entire paper up for perusal and discussion by the general public.

Even if you're not an academic anthropologist (which I assume most of you aren't), it might be interesting to explore some of the underground music that boils all about you. I've tried to keep the theory and methodology to a minimum to keep it interesting and readable. Hopefully I've been able to do so without losing any of the research's explanatory ability. Please note that while this is a final copy of my research to date, it is only a primary look into this phenomenon that desrves far more time and attention. Well without further ado, here is

"Pit of Equality": The Framing of Oppositional Consciousness in the Syracuse Hardcore Music Scene

-by Jesse

The Third Onondaga County Courthouse

2006-12-14T15:47:00.000-05:00

Editor's Note: Excelsior! Ever Upstate, a blog authored by Stef, has ceased to be. (You may have noticed that it has disappeared from our blog links, along with a few other defunct/dormant ones.) For the purposes of education and archiving, we're taking on the two Excelsior! posts, so if you didn't get a chance to read them the first time, here you are! Many thanks to Stef. - N

The Third Onondaga County Courthouse

Over at York Staters, Natalie has been posting a series of profiles about county courthouses. I've decided to piggyback the topic by posting a short research paper I did a few years ago on the history of the Third Onondaga County Courthouse, a building, which, unfortunately no longer stands.

(click through for more photos)

The life cycle of the Third Onondaga County Courthouse in Syracuse, NY is notable in its illustration of changing tastes and needs over time. The building is an example of studied design and construction, of adaptive re-use, of victimization in the time of urban renewal, and as a touch point for public outcry, sentiment, and reflection.

Clinton Square has been the historic center of Syracuse since it was colloquially known as Bogardus' Corners. Joshua Forman, who is often credited with being the father of Syracuse, lived in a frame house on the south side of Clinton Square and named the area after Governor DeWitt Clinton. The tavern built by Revolutionary War solidier Henry Bogardus could be found on the northwest corner of what is now Genesee and Salina Streets in 1806 [1]. The historic square would eventually assure Syracuse of its place as the seat of Onondaga County.

The first courthouse was on Onondaga Hill and was held in the corn house of Comfort Tyler in 1794 [2]. An intense fight took place over the proper location of the county seat, though, as the area's villages continued to grow. The second was built in 1830 and stood in the center of the block between Ash and Division Streets on North Salina Street, halfway between Syracuse and Salina. The location pleased no one, but the matter of the building's location was quickly settled in 1856 when it was destroyed in a fire [3]. After a long quarrel, the land on the corner of West Genesee and Clinton Streets was purchased for the building of what would become the Third Onondaga County Courthouse.

The architect Horatio Nelson White was commissioned to design the plans for the new courthouse. Originally from New Hampshire, White quickly established himself as the Venerable Architect upon his arrival in Syracuse in the early 1850s [4]. The cost of the building was estimated at $38,000 and the contract for the building was awarded to Timothy C. Cheney and Daniel Wilcox for $37,750 in 1856 [5]. The building was completed in 1857. Built from Onondaga gray limestone, the building was designed in what was called the Anglo-Norman style. The building was approximately sixty feet wide and one hundred feet deep with a cathedral ceiling and a tower at the front corner which rose eighty feet above street level [6]. The Court of Appeals library was constructed from 1883 to 1884. In 1889, a new roof was installed and a number of other minor improvements were made [7].

The building's life as a courthouse was relatively short-lived, though. By 1890, the County Board of Supervisors had voted to build a new court house. The new court house, to be designed by Archimedes Russell and Melvin King, was originally planned to occupy the entire block north of the Third Courthouse, but after the property owners refused to sell the land, the plans were relocated to Montgomery Street [8]. Operations permanently moved to the new Fourth Onondaga County Courthouse in 1907, fifteen years after the death of Horatio Nelson White.

The future for the Third was unclear. In a Syracuse newspaper during January of 1907, Representative Michael E. Driscoll expressed a wish for the building to be preserved as a memorial building:

What will become of it? Who will own it? Will it be permitted to stand or will it be torn down? It should be preserved and converted into a museum, an art gallery, the home of an historical association, a veterans' headquarters, or devoted to some other useful and patriotic purposeÉ
Personally, I never complained of the cramped conditions in the old building or the stifling atmosphere. The verdicts of juries, when wrong, were much more depressing. It has been the scene of the forensic efforts of two generations of lawyers. Law has been made there and history, too. Around it are clustered so many pleasant memories and delightful associations that abandoning it is like leaving home [9].

Driscoll, while comparing the Third Courthouse to the preserved structures of Europe, believed that the old stone Court House will be of more interest to future generations than the new one with its grand tower and marble halls.

For the time being, the courthouse was safe from being torn down as it was announced later that year that the Department of Public Education would be housed within its walls. Archimedes Russell prepared the plans to remodel the interior to suit their needs. The aspect of the preservation of the building's architectural beauty and historic associations came up again, though, as then-Mayor Alan Cutler Fobes expressed sympathy with the sentiment in favor of the preservation of the building, and its general appearance will not be disturbed in providing the quarters for the Department of Public Education [10]. During this remodeling, the second floor courtroom was subdivided into a corridor, while offices and a third floor was added in the original two-story room. The exterior of the building remained structurally sound, although it received little maintenance [11].

By the mid-1950s, though, the building was in danger again. In the August 5th edition of the 1956 Syracuse Post-Standard, a letter was written by E.M. Bogardus proposing that the old court house be turned into a historical group home:

It has been the hope of the writer that some day the Historical Association would feel that it rightfully belonged to them and that it would be sought to house their splendid historical exhibitÉ The citizens of Syracuse could stop this destruction if they would bestir themselves. Who will take the lead to give impetus to the movement to preserve the old Court House?

Again, the building was pulled back from the brink as the Traffic Court and some police functions were moved in. However the era of urban renewal was approaching and the construction of the new Public Safety Building raised more questions about the long-term future of the Third Courthouse. Crandell Melvin, the president of the Merchants Bank and a widely known civic leader, voiced the following opinion in the Syracuse Herald-American on April 1st, 1962:

The building is of native stone and was designed by a local architect of national fame. The building itself creates an atmosphere of character, solidarity, culture and beauty that has never been equaled. Preserving it would pass on to unborn generations a symbol and monument of the thinking and doing of the great men and women of former generations. Individuals die, but history lives forever. It would be a calamity to demolish the building.

By 1964, it seemed as though the fate of the landmark would rest with the consultants that were preparing the city's General Neighborhood Renewal Plan for 265 acres of downtown Syracuse. The private feeling among planners at the time was that the block was a downtown opportunity area and that the building would be razed to make room for a modern structure, parking, or some other similar use [12]. However, there were many parties that seemed to be showing interest in the space. As the State Bar Association's Committee for the Preservation of Historic Court Houses published their advocacy booklet, How to Save a Court House [13], two organizations showed interest in utilizing the building. The County Bar Association, led by president G. Everett DeMore, began an exploratory study to determine the feasibility of taking over the entire building for offices, meeting rooms, and a model law office, while Prof. Conrad Schuerch Jr. and Technology Club of Syracuse considered a portion of the courthouse as a possible temporary home for a museum of science and industry [14]. Both organizations hoped to rent the courthouse from the city or possibly the county for a dollar per year. Prof. Schuerch noted that there was sympathy within the club to preserve the building, but that it was beyond the scope of the organization to consider restoration [15].

It had been estimated that a modest renovation of a new boiler, plumbing, electrical installations and a new roof would cost approximately $37,000 (which was, interestingly, close to the original cost of the building's construction), but a complete renovation would end up totaling at least $100,000 [16]. The high cost of reconstruction had killed most hope of maintaining the courthouse as a public building and it seemed that a private developer would be the only savior who could afford to gut the structure to its limestone walls [17]. Still, some in the city remained optimistic and hoped to eventually house the Office of Urban Improvement within the old courthouse. A last chance was given to the building in June of 1965 as the city's Crusade for Opportunity, the central office for the citys youth and War on Poverty programs, moved 45 members of its staff into the building as a temporary measure [18]. Sadly, it was only a temporary solution. Despite the continual calls to save the Third Onondaga County Courthouse, it was, in the end, a doomed landmark in the face of urban improvement.

Ironically, the courthouse faced destruction just as a survey was being published by The State Council on the Arts, which placed the Third Courthouse on a list of sixty-three Onondaga County buildings of architectural importance. The study, Architecture Worth Saving in Onondaga County, was prepared by the Syracuse University School of Architecture under the guidance of Prof. Harley J. McKee, a renowned preservation scholar. McKee recommended the adaptive re-use of the courthouse as a small museum and auditorium and provided speculative plans for such a rebuilding [19]. He offered a harsh indictment of the city and county's planning practices: We have consistently chosen from among the best when tearing down or mutilating the buildings which our generation inherited" [20]. McKee also used the courthouse to question the current urban renewal projects in the city, recommending a study of the entire Clinton Square, quoting Peter Andrews, the then-professor of regional planning at Syracuse University:

While the city is to be commended for pushing ahead with the development of the Community Plaza, it seems too bad to let the planning of that one area overbalance the planning of other parts of downtown. If the city were to turn its attention to Clinton Square, it might, with far less cost than required for clearance and building of new public spaces, produce a distinctive and well-located public pedestrian area21]. [

McKee sums up the importance of the old courthouse with the following statement:

It hardly seems justifiable that an existing building of functional use as well as recognized cultural value should be allowed to disappear in the interest of developing yet unseen buildings. While the appeal of fresh new facilities is understandable, we must realize that a building such as the Third Onondaga County Courthouse is irreplaceable, not only because of its historic associations, its special period character and distinctive architecture, but even in more calculable terms, because it is unlikely that masonry construction of this sort, with its labor-consuming cut stone detailing, will ever be economically possible to build again [22].

McKee's recommendations were for naught, though, as the courthouse finally gave way to the city's urban renewal push in the early months of 1968. However, as wrecking booms moved into place, the courthouse and the people of Syracuse received a small gift from the demolition contractor. The firm charged with demolishing the structure would donate their time and labor to chart the 37-foot tower portion and take it down, stone by stone, to be numbered and saved, in hopes of someday being reconstructed [23]. A group known as S.A.V.E (Society for the Advancement of Visual Environment) championed the cause and offered possibilities for five possible sites for the reconstructed tower. They suggested placing the tower on the eastern side of Route 81 as a southern gateway to Syracuse, on the then-projected site of Onondaga Community College at Onondaga Hill as a campus landmark, back in Clinton Square as a monument to the past, on the South Plaza next to the Everson Museum as an artistic addition, or in front of the then-New York Telephone Company Building on E. Fayette St. as a center of interest [24]. As of the writing of this paper in 2004, the stones remain in storage, shrink-wrapped in heavy plastic to protect against deterioration. They are currently stored on city-owned property near Hancock Airport [25].

The entire block of Clinton Square once occupied by the Third Onondaga County Courthouse and other buildings now contains the Syracuse Newspapers Building. Built in 1971, the modern structure was designed by the Ginsberg Associates architectural firm of New York. The 230,000 sq. ft. building housed the presses for the Post-Standard and Herald-Journal newspaper plant along with offices [26]. Reminders of the old courthouse exist in Elmira and Watertown, as Horatio Nelson White used almost identical plans to the Syracuse building to design the courthouses for each county. The Elmira courthouse was built with brick and limestone trim. The Watertown courthouse has a reversed faade [27].

The Third Onondaga County Courthouse serves as a reminder of both the triumphs and mistakes of a community. Through its life cycle, it was utilized as a place of work and justice, lauded as an architectural gem, ignored as an out-dated relic, revered as a link to a grand past, and lost to tides of change. It is the hope of the author that some of the community pride that may have been lost to the leveling and reshaping of urban renewal could be restored and focused by the reconstruction of the Courthouse's tower in a public space. It illustrates the link of architectural heritage to a community, both in the community's effect on the face it presents to the world and in how our past is inextricably sewn into the fabric of such buildings.

------------------------------------------------------

1. Evamaria Hardin, Jon Crispin, and Onondaga Historical Association., Syracuse Landmarks: An AIA Guide to Downtown and Historic Neighborhoods, 1st ed. (New York Onondaga Historical Association: Syracuse University Press, 1993) pgs. 1, 8, 33.
2. "What Happens to our 'Old Courthouse'?," (Syracuse, NY), February 8, 1963
3. "County Seat Fight Lasted Many Years," in Onondaga County Court Houses: Newspaper Clippings ca 1900-1973 (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse Public Library Local History Department, 1973)
4. Other notable buildings designed by White in the Syracuse area are The Church of the Messiah, the Plymouth Congregational Church, the Grace Episcopal Church, the Gridley Building (formerly Onondaga County Savings Bank) in Clinton Square, The Wietung Building, and the Hall of Languages at Syracuse University
5. "'The Old Court House on Clinton Square should be preserved.'" Sunday Herald (Syracuse, NY), February 24, 1907
6. Preservation Association of Central New York, Syracuse Then and Now: The Third Onondaga County Courthouse,
http://www.syracusethenandnow.net/Dwntwn/ClintonSq/OnondagaCourthous.htm
7. "The Court House - Comfort Tyler's Corn House Served as the First One - The Village and Hill Rivalry"," in Onondaga County Court Houses: Newspaper Clippings ca 1900-1973 (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse Public Library Local History Department, 1973)
8. Preservation Association of Central New York, Syracuse Then and Now: The Third Onondaga County Courthouse
9. "To Make Landmark of Old Court House," unknown (Syracuse, NY), January 3, 1907
10. "School Board Goes to Old Court House (1907)," in Onondaga County Court Houses: Newspaper Clippings ca 1900-1973 (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse Public Library Local History Department, 1973)
11. Preservation Association of Central New York, Syracuse Then and Now: The Third Onondaga County Courthouse
12. Richard G. Case, "Progress May Claim Old Court House," Herald-American (Syracuse, NY), February 9, 1964
13. Ibid.
14. Richard G. Case, "Old Courthouse Wins Lease on Life," Herald-American (Syracuse, NY), July 5, 1964
15. Ibid.
16. Richard G. Case, "Crusaders to occupy courthouse," Herald-American (Syracuse, NY), June 13, 1965
17. Case, "Progress May Claim Old Court House,"
18. Case, "Crusaders to occupy courthouse,"
19. Richard G. Case, "Old Courthouse Could Become Museum-Auditorium," Herald-American (Syracuse, NY), March 22, 1964
20. Ibid.
21. Ibid.
22. New York State Council on the Arts, Architecture Worth Saving in Onondaga County (Syracuse, NY: 1964) p. 196
23. "Tower stone to be saved," Herald-Journal (Syracuse, NY), Jan. 30, 1968
24. "Readers Asked to Choose Court House Tower Site," in Onondaga County Court Houses: Newspaper Clippings ca 1900-1973 (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse Public Library Local History Department, 1973)
25. Preservation Association of Central New York, Remains of the Third Onondaga County Courthouse,
http://www.syracusethenandnow.net/Dwntwn/ClintonSq/OldCourthouse/remains_of_the_courthouse.htm
26. Hardin, Crispin, and Onondaga Historical Association., Syracuse Landmarks: An AIA Guide to Downtown and Historic Neighborhoods p.42
27. Elinore Taylor Horning, The Man Who Changed the Face of Syracuse: Horatio Nelson White (Mexico, NY: Elinore T. Horning, 1988) p.28

From the Depths of Lake Ontario

2006-12-13T11:49:00.000-05:00

A 161-year old shipwreck has been discovered in the depths of Lake Ontario, 5 miles off the shore of Breeze Point in Orleans County. The Milan still has two masts standing in the deep dark waters, where lack of oxygen has helped preserve it. (The photograph to the right is from The Buffalo News article.) The ship was sailing from Cleveland to Oswego in October 1849 when the vessel sprung a leak. The crew (and the dog) survived the sinking.

The ship was discoved in 2005 after explorers Dan Scoville and Jim Kennard read a reference to the ship's sinking in an old newspaper article. They located the vessel using sonar equipment and are studying the wreck with the help of students at RIT. Why exactly this story is being picked up by the Associated Press now isn't clear.

We've written about well-preserved upstate shipwrecks before on York Staters, and I thought this was a great news item that may have slipped past the senors of many readers.

Check out other shipwrecks in Lake Ontario, and other Great Lakes at ShipwreckWorld. See other York Staters posts about military history in our archives.

Natalie

The Farm Supply Store

2006-12-10T23:49:00.000-05:00

Where are the farmers to walk through the farm supply store and look at the miniature farm machinery for sale. Christmas gifts. "Oh, my boy would like that." And stare at a tractor a kid could drive around the pasture, legs peddling fervishly and think "too much money." "Oh, my girl would love that big stuffed lamb" or is it a sheep, a Dorset, white with horns made out of plush, soft and cozy to lie over, watching T.V., evenings. And the hobby horse, a first horse for my little girl. Where are the farmers whose children know what a farm means and whose wives know what a farm means, and who want something more than a mixer for Christmas? Or, who really do want a mixer for Christmas.

I saw a man walk through the Christmas gift department in the farm supply store. Hands half in his pockets. Thumbs out. He wore a cap and jeans and farm boots. He walked up and down each aisle, slowly, his head turned sideways, looking at the selection of gifts displayed on the shelves. Some nice canisters for the kitchen. Maybe. Are there still little boys who collect matchbox size tractors and seeders and spreaders, just like Dad’s, and know what they are? "I have a whole set!" Are there still little girls who collect miniature cows and calves and know the difference between the black and white ones and the red ones? And who care, because they show their own calves at the County Fair, 4-H, in the summer. Where are they? The echo of their voices and their smiles and their shining faces filled the aisles of the Christmas gift department in the farm supply store. Where are their fathers, brown leather wallets bulging with receipts, and a few bucks, cash money?

I bought a Christmas ornament. A chicken standing on top of a sheep standing on a cow, the star behind them. And a pair of work gloves, soft leather, the only ones in women’s sizes. There was a pretty tin of cookies. I passed it by twice. I liked the tin. There was no price on it. I bought it anyway. I looked at the receipt on my way out of the store. Cheap enough. A pretty tin in which to store beans in the larder. Winter. Maybe I’ll get another.

There were no people in the store. Oh yes, the man who works for me was buying a big bag of cat food. And a couple bought a giant bag of dog food. The man in the Christmas gift aisle, the one with the sunshine lines on his face was nowhere to be seen. Where are the farmers? Where are the farmers in the farm supply store? Christmas. Sylvia Jorrín For the ongoing story of the farm with pictures visit www.sylviasfarm.com ",1]

There were no people in the store. Oh yes, the man who works for me was buying a big bag of cat food. And a couple bought a giant bag of dog food. The man in the Christmas gift aisle, the one with the sunshine lines on his face was nowhere to be seen. Where are the farmers? Where are the farmers in the farm supply store? Christmas.

by Sylvia Jorrin
For the ongoing story of the farm
with pictures visit
www.sylviasfarm.com

Editor's Note: This is the first submission by Sylvia Jorrin, a farmer and author from the Catskills. In 2004, She published the tale of her life and her farm entitled: Sylvia’s Farm: The Journal of an Improbable Shepherd; she also writes for numerous magazines and news outlets on issues regarding farming and sustainability. She will soon be featured in Martha Stewart Living Magazine (April, 2007). We were thrilled when Sylvia contacted us and asked to join in the York Staters project. We hope to be featuring more of her work in the future. Welcome Sylvia!

If you desire to submit your works to York Staters, please email us at york.staters@gmail.com, we're very laid back and friendly, so don't be afraid to drop us a line over any old thing.

-Jesse

Gossip of Upstate New York

2006-12-07T11:39:00.000-05:00

York Staters is a place for serious investigation of all topics relating to Upstate New York. Tackling the larger historical, social, and economic questions is no easy task (for the writers or the readers) so I am now offering us a diversion in the form of: Upstate gossip!

I know you love to glance at the cover of Star or People in the check-out line (even if you would never, ever buy one) and there's no shame in it! Entertainment news/silly news that doesn't really effect our lives in any way is a diversion as old as language itself. And if you're going to divert your mind with a little gossipy news, it may as well be of the Upstate variety!

Item: The former home of Philip Seymour Hoffman in Rochester, NY is up for sale. It seems that the home's celebrity provenance hasn't inflated the price much - it's listed for $139,900. One of Hoffman's upcoming projects is the film Synechdoche, New York. The title is a play on the city of Schenectady and the literary device/figure of speach synecdoche. The film is written and will be directed by Charlie Kaufman (of Being John Malcovich and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind fame.)

Item: In further real estate news, governer elect Eliot Spitzer has purchased 160 acres in Gallatin, Columbia County for $4 million for a weekend getaway.

Item: Actor Rip Torn is arrested for drunk driving in North Salem. (Yea yea, Westchester doesn't really count as Upstate, but I couldn't resist, because who doesn't love Rip Torn? I mean, look at this guy. I can, however, resist making a "Torn was Ripped!" or "Rip got Torn Up!" pun.)

Item: Everyone loves a good catfight, and the one between Glenn Heller (who vehmently hates WAMC's chief executive Alan Chartock) and just about anyone who will listen rages on. Heller has accused Chartock and WAMC of tax fraud. First it was a war of words on Chartock's wikipedia entry, and now it's come to slightly more subdued emails between Heller and Mark McGuire (not THAT Mark McGuire.) Upstream follows the developments here.

And finally, many of you may know that Sagamore was used as a setting for scenes in the upcoming film The Good Shepherd, which I've already started seeing television commericals for. You can view the trailer here (which sadly doesn't show Sagamore - I guess we're just going to have to go see the movie when it comes out on December 22nd.)

If anyone else wants to contribute and item, post in the comments!

Natalie

What's in a Name #9: Skaneateles

2006-12-05T11:27:00.000-05:00

Editor's Note: Curt and Toni over at Blog Skaneateles have sent in this submission to provoke our thoughts on perhaps U-NY's hardest-to-pronounce named town: Skaneateles. You should also check out their relatively new blog: Blog Skaneateles. For your convenience, their link has been added to our blogroll. If place names spark your curiosity, check out our other editions of What's in a Name?
-Jesse

Skaneateles; Skan E or Skinny? The debate rages.

One thing all York Staters have in common is Indian. American Indianthat is. And specifically The Iroquois Confederacy. [Remember the SixNations from High School history?]

For most of you, this is not a Big Deal. Happily, you live in a Genesee,or Cayuga, or Onondaga. Not so for us; we have an identity crisis in the StoryBook Village.

What we know for sure is that after the American Revolution we were broke, so we gave away land grants in Upstate New York to everybody we owed money to. As an aside we also know the beaurocratic clerk who drew up the maps was an aficionado of Roman History. [Thus all the Brutus's and Cato's and Marcellus's.] We also know that the owners of the Land Grants didn't want them, so they sold them. Cheap.

In the Finger Lakes area virtually everything is Indian or Roman. For sure Skaneateles is Indian. Conventional wisdom is that it means "long,beautiful lake" but there is another argument it means " squaw who likesto make of babies". Ha! I lake the latter.

However, the Debate about Skaneateles.

Is it Skan-E-At-Las or Skinny-Atlas? I have lived here for 56 years andI say SKAN. Any linguists out there?

-Curt and Toni

You can make check availability and make reservations on line at ourwebpage www.skaneatelessuites.com. It is safe and easy!

Two Faces of the Adirondacks: The Almanack and the Boys

2006-12-04T11:56:00.000-05:00

In general, among us Upstate bloggers there tends to be a climate of amicable tolerance and friendly exchange. Certainly, we come from all points of the political prism—from Anarchist (that’s me!) to conservative (such as my old arch-nemesis the “Let Upstate Be Upstate” blog[1])—but overall we’re all just pretty much thrilled that other people are also interested in our region.

That’s why I was pretty shocked to read the Adirondack Almanack’s latest post: An Angry Adirondack Almanack Note to Neighbors, which tears into the (relatively) new and highly prolific blog Adirondack Boys (“Everything Fabulous About New York’s Adirondack Park”).

I must mention here that I’ve always had a deep respect for the Almanack’s thoughtful commentary on life “Behind the Blue Line,” the Almanack seems to never post unless its something that it deems useful and important (which is a bit different from the Boys… but different styles are ok). The Almanack writes about the new blog:

The posts started nicely enough, mostly the history of Penwood (Old Forge), where the Adirondack Boys have recently had a home built for them. All was well for a while, until, perhaps inevitably given the pace of posting, the posts started turning to other subjects and, well, frankly, began pissing us off.

For several weeks the Almanack held a regular internal debate about the new blog. The Almanack doesn't always agree with even our favorite bloggers, and we don't always have to comment on a bad post or two. The Almanack encourages conflicting viewpoints, alternative ideas, even the downright outlandish. The Almanack doesn't want to be mean. The Almanack wants friends in the blog world and wants to encourage Adirondack blogs. Today however, the insults aimed at locals reached a crescendo and if there is one thing we can't stand it's hypocrisy: don't believe one thing and support the exact opposite just because it fits your social milieu more appropriately. If you worship the devil at night in the woods, don't send money to evangelical TV preachers and sell bibles on the side.

Yes, that’s us that they’re referring to as a “favorite” blog that they don’t always agree with[2]. Fair enough. But this post, which I’m not going to quote much further (you should read it yourself) goes on to condemn the boys for hypocrisy (for instance they’re gay men who love President Bush enough to copy his entire lunch menu as a post) and outright classism.

Without a doubt, the Boys seem completely clueless about the world of the working folk around them. Their celebration of what is ‘fabulous’ about the Adirondacks refers primarily to the Great Camps of the wealthy elite of the Gilded Age. As someone who worked at one of these Camps as a tour guide for three years, I can tell you that perhaps the lives of the wealthy there were ‘fabulous,’ but to not mention the lives of those who worked in and built those camps and lived in them year round is to ignore history just as vital as that of the “Summer People” (their words) that arrived for a few weeks. The descendents of those same workers are the ones that the Boys blissfully ignore or denigrate all around them.

It is within the Adirondacks that the Upstate-Rural-Poor versus Downstate-Urban-Rich dichotomy is the most acute. It is there that jaded, tired Downstaters build their sprawling ‘camps’ and host their elaborate parties. Of course nthing wrong with a little bit of R&R, I can’t think of an Adirondacker that doesn’t appreciate that land for its calming, healing properties. But in the view of the Boys, the Adirondack Park is simply that: A Park. A place for their own amusement. While I admit and enjoy the unique nature of the Adirondacks, I try never to forget that it is also a human place where people make their lives—they and their communities are never simple backdrops for my Adirondack adventures or props for the fulfillment of my dreams. It is that simple truth that the Boys have missed as they have treated decorative lamps and terra cotta urns as more important subjects than the lives that surround them.

-Jesse

[1] I’m pretty sure that Let Upstate Be Upstate, the blog of the Business Council of NY, doesn’t share in my analysis of our relationship. However, this letter I wrote to them explains my feelings.
[2] Which of course, gets me curious as to which posts they’re referring to.

Restorative and Transformative Justice: Looking for a new model

2006-12-03T13:39:00.000-05:00

The justice system here in New York is in shambles. A 2002 study found that 67.5% of prisoners released from 15 state prisons (including New York) were re-arrested within three years. Those are, of course, only the ones that were caught. This blog has detailed the abuses of many of New York’s small courts, the poisonous effect of large prisons upon the social and economic fabric of small communities and the ineffectiveness of domestic abuse mediation in some Upstate areas (“Several months ago, another woman was hunted down and killed with a deer rifle at the Cumby's a few blocks from where I live in Glens Falls NY (Warren Co.) by her soon to be ex husband”). How about those Rockefeller Drug Laws which make possessing a bit of marijuana equal to second degree murder?[1]

It is my belief that the core problem in our justice system lies not in the specifics of certain laws or judge-training situations, but in our basic philosophy of Retributive Justice. The heart of retributive justice is that a crime is an offense against the social order—which is embodied in the State—and that the method for correcting this imbalance is enforced punishment against the offender. The crudest version of this theory is the ‘eye for an eye’ philosophy.

What has happened lately is that, even though both violent and property crime rates have been dropping, the states are imposing stricter (“three strikes”) laws that impose long imprisonment on relatively minor crimes in order to keep criminals off the street (and thus decrease crime). This, of course, treats a criminal as being essentially so; by this term I mean that it has the basic assumption that ‘criminal’ is an innate state which cannot be changed, a criminal once identified can only be hindered from being able to commit crime. When you combine this with the incredibly distorted race and class statistics in our prisons, we begin to see the wisps of eugenics.

As I wrote back in January: “not every criminal is a cut and dry case and not every criminal is the worst case. When we create mandatory sentences for anything, we treat every case as if it were the worst and we remove the humanity from the system.”

So, if, as I believe, one of the core problems in our American justice system is its overwhelming reliance upon Retributive Justice, what is the alternative? There are two related theories of justice which both have equally ancient roots as retributive justice that can begin to provide an alternative: Restorative Justice and Transformative Justice.

At the core of these theories is the idea that for many crimes, the offense is not between the offender and the State, but the offender and the victim or the local community. Restorative justice in particular attempts to mediate disputes by bringing both the victim and the offender together. The victim is given a chance to explain how the crime affected him or her and to receive answers to any lingering questions about the event. The offender is given a chance to face the effects of his or her actions and to see the implications. In cases of crimes against the community, those affected are brought in to share their feelings; a vandal meets the man who has to clean the vandalism, the individuals who couldn’t use the destroyed facilities. Compensation is directed towards the victim—whether an individual or a community—with the goal of restoring balance. The victims are not allowed to profit off of the event. So the offender may serve community service, pay for damaged goods or provide services to the victim. There is also an emphasis on self-education to prevent recidivism.

One example of restorative justice in action are the Circles of Support and Accountability (CoSA), which are small groups of trained volunteers who welcome high risk sex offenders back into the community after serving their time. The mission of the CoSA is:

"To substantially reduce the risk of future sexual victimization of community members by assisting and supporting released individuals in their task of integrating with the community and leading responsible, productive, and accountable lives. (CoSA Chaplaincy Guide)

According to Wikipedia, CoSA has “reduced re-offence by 70% and de-escalated the seriousness of those crimes that did occur.” It’s certainly a long ways from Governor Pataki’s plan to lock up sex offenders in mental institutions after they finished their prison time.

Transformative justice attempts to take the ideals of restorative justice to conflict outside of the criminal justice system. It attempts to view conflicts as inbalances in the parts of larger social systems. If focuses upon mediation in the relationships between people and people and institutions. The goal is not simply to return to the status quo, but to reform the basic imbalances within social relations that lead to conflict. In a sense, every conflict mediation serves to ‘transform’ society into a more just and equitable form.

At the heart of these theories is the idea that the offense is the dual responsibility of the offender who broke the norm and the community who permitted such events to occur. It brings together those affected and attempts to correct imbalances and crimes via restitution, not retribution. Hopefully, the community itself is strengthened through this form of justice since once the all-powerful State has been removed, people can begin to see one another. The victim receives restitution, both physical and psychological, for the crime; all parties realize the influence that our actions have upon one another and come to recognize the interconnectedness of our communities. Furthermore, instead of locking up a generation of young people for possessing a bit of marijuana, we can have their direct participation in our shared communities.

There is a powerful opportunity today in New York, with the incoming of new blood into state government and recent attention to problems in the justice system, to begin to dismantle the retributive, angry-god-like State and allow New Yorkers to begin to see one another once again. Perhaps restorative and transformative justice can give us those tools.

-by Jesse

[1] I would like to mention that I have known judges, lawyers, police officers and convicted criminals who were all decent people attempting to do their best with a flawed system. This essay is meant not to be an attack on well-minded individuals, but upon the system in which we are all entrapped.

Defining Upstate

2006-11-28T22:23:00.000-05:00

York Staters recently received an email that raises some important, fundamental questions about our mission here and the definition of Upstate New York itself. I spoke to the emailer, Em, and she[1] agreed to allow her questions and my response to be posted here for public discussion. So, here is Em’s email and my response:

Hi All,
I grew up in Buffalo and went to school in Ithaca and Syracuse. I had never heard the term Upstater until I moved to New York City (at the age of 39). To me, Upstate is anything up the Hudson. Then it's the Finger Lakes region (and then a bit of Leatherstocking) and Western New
York. Where is this York thing coming from? That's totally Redcoat. And have you read this amazing book : "Voyageurs" by Margaret Elphanstone that tells the story about, basically, the War of 1812, as they also do at Old Fort Niagara and Fort York at Niagara on the Lake CN. We folks from Buffalo are not Upstaters, we are Western New Yorkers, the beginning of the Midwest.

The question of the definition of a York Stater is a touchy one that has always remained in the back of my mind while writing in this blog. Buffalonians have told me that they’re Western New Yorkers, some Syracusians say they’re Central New Yorkers and many folk from the North Country adamantly believe that they’re the only Upstaters.

To call for an Upstate awareness is not to ask for an invalidation of other regional identities (Western New York, Central New York, Adirondack, etc), but to recognize the fact that we all have incredible commonalities. Unlike their neighbors in Canada or Erie PA, Buffalonians are tied to a state government that is increasingly dominated by the City of New York and has created a distinct political culture that we share across the board. New York politics effect Buffalo in distinct ways that her non-NY neighbors do not experience but have parallels in her fellow Upstate cities.

Current politics aside, Buffalo’s history has always been within the same orbit as the Finger Lakes and Central NY in particular. Historical accounts of the region open with all of Upstate New York (minus the Adirondacks) as the heartland of the mighty Iroquois Empire. White settlement throughout the region was predicated on the same treaties and wars that broke that early empire. Furthermore, Buffalo was shaped by the Erie Canal experience, one of the distinguishing historical events that binds much of Upstate together, from Albany westwards. Buffalo was likewise a part of the Burnt-Over District and the profound social experimentation that swept through the region between the 1820s and 1860s (those interested in this fascinating period of UNY history might start out with this “Timeline of Innovation” that I drew up).

We are also climactically and economically similar to one another: relatively small cities with distinct local cultures (often flavored by waves of European immigrants whose descendents maintain ties to their heritage---unlike much of the Midwest) surrounded by farm and forest-land. This cultural pattern is continued somewhat to the south (Erie and Scranton-Wilkes Barre are similar) but is distinct from New England Uplands, Ontario and the Boshwash Atlantic Seaboard, which we border in the other directions.

As I wrote in my early essay, A York State of Mind, I am hesitant to define ‘Upstater’ in the purely negative terms of “someone who lives in New York but not in New York City,” but instead to celebrate the distinct historical legacy, governmental burdens, climate, ecology, economic and settlement patterns that define our region. Thus, while we recognize, and celebrate, the regional differences throughout the state, we also call for a celebration of our cultural unity—and for the further development of that unity in order to protect our way of life.

As for the term "York Staters" in our mission statement we explain that it is an old (early 19th century) term for inhabitants of NYS outside of the City (who were called New Yorkers or just Yorkers). We have rehabilitated the term for several reasons: it is catchy and easy to remember, it has historical significance and, perhaps most importantly, it allows us to express the fact that we have our own identities and lives independent of NYC without necessarily surrendering the name "New York" (which we also have right to) to our neighbors to the southwest.

-Jesse

[1] I’m running with a gender assumption here, please accept my apology Em if you’re actually male. I get this problem all the time with my gender-neutral name.

Sustainable Housing in Upstate New York

2006-11-25T22:06:00.000-05:00

I believe that the issue of how we build our houses is one of the most pressing to face us today. Urban sprawl, energy inefficiency, and rows of soulless suburban ‘McMansions’ all plague our communities. I’ve been interested in how we can adapt our housing traditions to both reflect the local vernacular architecture and values of environmental and social sustainability. The latest product of this exploration has been a house entitled “Excelsior” (after New York’s state motto, ‘ever upward’), which attempts to show that ‘green’ or ‘sustainable’ housing is not the province of neo-hippies building Navajo Hogan-inspired houses out of straw bales and earth bags, but can be interwoven into local architectural traditions to create attractive, livable homes.

This home fuses the traditional Federalist farmhouse that we see all throughout rural Upstate with ecologically conscious ideas like passive solar heating, home-grown vegetables (it has an attached greenhouse) and renewable energy use (solar power and wood heat). Throughout it, I've also added little touches that I'd like to see in a house, such as floor-to-ceiling windows and bookshelves, comfortable window seats for reading and an open, airy design.

Since the floorplans and descriptions are rather long, I have created a subpage to lay out all of the details: Excelsior, Sustainable Upstate Housing. I hope only to inspire discussion and thought on the best way to build our homes, as I am not an architect or a professional in any construction fields (I do wield a fine paint brush though, if the need arises); however, those planning their own homes are welcome to adopt any ideas they desire from Excelsior.

I do hope that you enjoy my home. I look forward to your comments.

-Jesse

Why You Should Move To Central New York

2006-11-22T21:23:00.000-05:00

Editor's Note: Jon submitted this essay about reasons why you should move to Central New York, and while he may be preaching to the choir for many of us, the holidays are a time that Upstate expatriots return to see family, and perhaps reconsidered the reasons they left or consider returning. Full disclosure: Jon is a real estate agent, so if you're thinking of returning and need a lead on a place to live, I'm sure he can help out. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! - N

Why You Should Move To Central New York
By Jon Alvarez

Move to Central New York? Why on earth would someone want to do that, you ask? Because this transplanted Texan feel’s it’s the best place to live in America, period. So, if you don’t already live here, what are you waiting for? Ok, I know, you probably don’t know anything about this part of the country and probably think it’s a suburb of New York City. Well, I’m here to dispel that misconception and to tell you that we’ve got it all here in what many refer to as Upstate New York, away from the hustle and bustle and congestion that characterizes The Big Apple. In fact, when my family chose to relocate from Austin, Texas, most of our friends mistakenly thought that was our destination, as they had no other concept of what represented New York. Simply put, Syracuse, Central New York, or CNY, is a completely different creature from NYC and we couldn’t be happier with our decision to relocate here. And if you happen to find yourself in the same situation I was in, tired of the overcrowding of urban sprawl, traffic congestion, extended periods of extreme heat and drought, exorbitant housing and living costs, then CNY should be a prime target on your relocation radar.

The quality of life we’ve discovered here in the Syracuse area is the primary reason why you should move to this part of the country. Please, don’t get me wrong, I loved Texas and its Lone Star attitude, and Austin was a very happening place, but guess what? Syracuse is, too! Like Austin, there is a plethora of activities for the young and hip, what with Syracuse University and several other colleges existing within CNY, not to mention the many museums, art houses, and the ever rocking Armory Square in the heart of downtown Syracuse, so there’s always something to do. One thing is certain; as a family man, I‘ve come to appreciate and love the quality of life afforded to my family here. We chose to sell our house in Austin and make a quality of life move as we’d grown weary from years of dealing with the traffic congestion and overcrowding that came to characterize the metropolis that was becoming Austin. We’d had enough of the blistering summer heat and crunchy June grass that became all too familiar as drought conditions would set in by early summer. You won’t find any of that here in CNY! We enjoy a nice variety of temperate conditions within the four seasons that can be found in Central New York.

Another bonus of living here is that there’s water here and plenty of it! While we do get quite a bit of snow here, it typically lasts three months and it certainly creates an enjoyable atmosphere while sitting by the fireplace. With that, there’s plenty to do for the outdoor enthusiast, as our weather and close proximity to numerous ski slopes make for some great skiing. The Central New York region also has plenty of lakes and canals for fishing and boating enthusiasts and because of the amount of water we receive either via snow or rain, we never encounter drought-like conditions. Since this region is so used to the amount of snow we receive, it rarely hinders driving as the area town and village highway departments are prepared to deal with it and thus, keep the roads plowed and salted to avoid delays for commuters. Some of the other activities one can enjoy as a result of the winter season aside from downhill or cross-country skiing are snowshoeing, sledding, ice skating, snowmobiling, and ice fishing. Of course, I must mention that my wife’s favorite winter activity is the aforementioned sitting by the fireplace, warm and cozy with a good book and enjoying the landscape as it becomes adorned with snow. Now, how many parts of the country can virtually guarantee a white Christmas? Bottom line, we have lots to do here and we get to enjoy the abundance of green grass, huge trees and large sections of wooded areas as a result of the amount of moisture we receive in this part of the country.

The four seasons is another reason you should move to CNY. Another reason we chose to move to this part of the country was that we wanted variety. Fall is easily our favorite time of the year and Central New York is one of the greatest locations for those wishing to enjoy the wonderful, vibrant fall colors of autumn in New York. The abundance of trees in this part of the country makes for a great October! One can make a day trip of driving throughout the area to enjoy not only the great views, but also the various apple and pumpkin festivals that can be found throughout the area. Central New Yorkers sure know how to make use of their natural resources, too! Apple cider, apple donuts, fritters, home-made Maple syrup, pumpkin pie, apple pie, apple butter…wow, I’m getting hungry just thinking about all the great treats we’ve enjoyed this past fall at all the various fall festivals. Since we’re talking about food, I might as well mention the fact that CNY has awesome food, particularly Italian and greasy spoon diners. We’ve never enjoyed pizza and spaghetti on such a wide scale from so many fine Italian establishments, not to mention the great diversity in menu selections that can be found at the various restaurants in the area. As for the tiny Mom and Pop diners that seem to flourish in the area, it seems every town or village has one that serves a mean breakfast for under $5 and is usually hard pressed for open tables.

Another bonus we’ve discovered in our time here in Central New York is how friendly we’ve found the people here to be. While we found Austin to be very transient, the Central New York region has been home to generations of Upstate New Yorkers who were born and raised here and chose to remain in the region. This tends to foster a greater atmosphere of civic pride and neighborly attitude, which we have happily benefited from. Our favorite story to tell new friends and acquaintances centers on the night we were moving into our new home in the Radisson subdivision. Despite the fact that there was a raging snowstorm blowing about, my family was visited by an angel in the form of Carolyn Eaton, our new neighbor directly across the street, appearing on our doorstep bearing a piping hot apple pie! Never have I tasted such a delicious apple pie, particularly since it came special delivery from such a great neighbor whom we lovingly refer to as our adopted mother. Despite the fact that we chose to sell that house and move across town, we spend nearly every holiday with the Eatons and their loved ones as they’ve become like family to us. That same street also bore us one of our closest and dearest friends, the Rotchford family. Rarely do we find ourselves at the Eatons where we won’t pop into the Rotchfords to catch up and toss back a few, not to mention the daily and weekly phone calls just to say hi. Space and time prevent me from going into further detail on the amount of new friends we’ve made since relocating to CNY. Bottom line, we’ve found a place we love to call home in just a relatively short time because of the nature and warmth of the good people of Central New York.

On a final note, I’d be remiss if I did not mention a few more of the benefits of living in Central New York, particularly the absence of “traffic” and congestion, as well as the incredible housing prices and architectural treasures found here. Rarely, if ever, do I find myself in bumper-to-bumper traffic. In fact, it usually takes 30 minutes or less to cross from one section of the area to another. The region’s proximity to the east coast, the Adirondacks, NYC, and Lake Ontario lends itself to some great weekend getaways. And just to give you an idea of the housing values found in CNY, the median price of housing in Central New York is 49 percent cheaper than the national median and is currently lower than it was in 1990! The current median price for housing in Onondaga County is only $127,000! Compare that with $435,000 for Washington, D.C., $172,000 for Atlanta, $290,000 for Chicago, $416,000 for Boston, $538,000 for Los Angeles, $176,000 in Austin, $255,000 for Denver, well, you get the picture. Besides getting a lot of bang for your buck, the architectural styles of the area are incredible! You can’t find many turn of the century houses in other parts of the country at affordable prices, especially on large lots, country settings, or on the water. There’s gold to be found here, one simply has to come find it!

So, considering the fact that making a move to Central New York can greatly improve your family’s quality of life due to the region’s abundance of great people, abundant natural resources, temperate climate, low housing prices, unique and historic architecture, the area also plays host to the great New York State Fair. CNY also has plenty of entertainment, sports and outdoor venues and activities, plus we have virtually no traffic congestion and we’re conveniently situated along the east coast. So, what are you waiting for? Get your bags packed, sell that expensive home in that overcrowded part of the country you currently find yourself living in, and come to Syracuse!

Redefining 'Killjoy' at Fayetteville Manlius High School

2006-11-20T21:44:00.000-05:00

Syracuse Post-Standard coverage of a decision by Fayetteville-Manlius High School principal James Chupila to cancel a December 2nd dance to prevent the "grinding" or "freak dancing" that characterized the Homecoming event has been picked up by a variety of other news outlets, from Buffalo to NYC, from Newsvine to Fleshbot.*

Concern has erupted over the appropriateness of sexualized dancing at school events. I certainly don't blame parents for their concern, nor do I think Chupila's decision was out and out wrong. While in the short term it might prevent some brief clothed contact between naughty bits in a public setting, there are larger and longer-term implications.

Firstly, Chupila, also known as Chupa Chup, is going to have his hands full when it comes to FM's big fundraising event, Dance Marathon on March 3rd. The 12 hour event raises money for Camp Good Days and Special Times. That's right: 12 hours of dancing to top 40 dance hits, a full half-a-day's potential for grinding. Will a protective and Puritanical impulse to prevent what might go wrong pull the plug on one of the schools most community-building and altruistic events?

Regular readers are probably aware that though I currently live in the Hudson Valley, I'm from Fayetteville, outside of Syracuse. I graduated from Fayetteville-Manlius High School and was in school during the Water Balloon Incident of 2000. At the end of the school year, it was customary for water balloon fights to break out in the school parking lot. The year before, some of the balloons were filled with liquids other than water, and thus the FM administration made it clear that no one would be allowed to possess them. This of course made students more determined - when the water balloon fight began, a staggering number of state and local police officers were called, nightsticks and riot control tactics were employed, and dozens of students were arrested. Ill-will was generated, and the potential for irreverent fun was smashed like so many water balloons.

The topic of restriction of free expression/protecting students from their own hormones/monitoring what is done on school property is certainly an incendiary issue, one that will probably always be debated as cases like these arrise, has no easy resolution, and of course, is not exclusive to Upstate New York.

I recognize and sympathize with the difficult position that issues of student sexuality place upon educators. However, I would encourage people to think very carefully about how we treat the youth that we hope will become our Upstate future. While the duty of the school is to protect its students, micromanaging their lives in every way does everyone a disservice and sucks the the value out of what should be a time when students are learning important life lessons as well as academic ones. Overprotecting people leaves them either a) unprepared for what will happen when the protection is no longer there, or b) resentful and more likely to subvert authority in some other, probably more extreme, way. In a place striving to be more youth-friendly, I think it's unwise to infantilize high school students.

Posted by Natalie

Check out some cross talk on the Syracuse Post-Standard Forums here and here, and peruse the FM Code of Conduct, if you're interested, and if you're still interested, you can read this Manlius lawyer's take.

* Fleshbot is totally NOT SAFE FOR WORK

Albany's Egg: No corners for you

2006-11-19T15:58:00.000-05:00

The Egg, exciting and old/The Egg, you'll do what you're told/The Egg, the Egg, no corners for you/The Egg, when was it new?/The Egg, there's nothing to do/The Egg, the Egg, no corners for youPoured concrete flowing into organic shapes/Carpet, wood trim, and some velvet drapes/Combine to make one perfect place/From the outside I am thinking/I'm a number, not a man/From the inside I am thinking/What were they thinking?/The Egg, exciting and old/The Egg, you'll do what you're told/The Egg, the Egg, no corners for you/No corners for you/No corners for you
-Albany/The Egg (2004) by They Might be Giants

Perennial geek-rock duo They Might be Giants has perhaps perfectly captured the essence of Albany’s most unique building: The Egg. The band’s homepage, TMBG.com continues:

"The Egg was built as part of Nelson Rockefeller's dream to reinvent Albany as New York's state capital. It was designed by Wallace Harrison and contains virtually no straight lines or corners. Construction began in 1966 and finished in 1978. The Egg's performance center continues to flourish and is They Might Be Giants' home away from home, in Albany. The friendly Egg is nestled among Albany's state buildings, which are perhaps the harshest example of modernist brutalism on permanent display. Former residents of Albany have described the song as capturing the essential Albany-residential (or Albanian) experience."

The bizarre structure has, in the eyes of some, come to architecturally represent Albany the way the Golden Gate Bridge, the Empire State Building or the Sydney Opera House have for their respective homes. Of course, Albany residents might have some reservations about seeing an example of harsh “modernist brutalism,” bloated state building projects and gubernatorial narcissism (some say Rockefeller created the entire Empire State Plaza as a monument to himself) as the architectural summary of their lives. Of course, for the majority of Upstaters, “Albany” refers to all of those things first and a city where people live second.

TheEgg.org, however, takes a different take on the building:

Architecturally, The Egg is without precedent. From a distance it seems as much a sculpture as a building. Though it appears to sit on the main platform, the stem that holds The Egg actually goes down through six stories deep into the Earth. The Egg keeps its shape by wearing a girdle - a heavily reinforced concrete beam that was poured along with the rest of the shell…

The Egg houses two theatres - the Lewis A. Swyer Theatre and the Kitty Carlisle Hart Theatre… Wrapping around fully half The Egg is a lounge area for the Hart theatre…

The building's curved exterior defines the interior statement as well. There are virtually no straight lines or harsh corners inside The Egg. Instead, walls along the edge curve upward to meet gently concave ceiling light for celestial effect. The backs of performing areas are fanned - inviting one inward - providing an intimacy impossible in a conventional theatre. And throughout, walls of Swiss pearwood veneer add warmth and enhance the acoustics in the theatres.

Visually distinctive, yet ingenious The Egg is a beautiful synthesis of form and function. We invite you to use it for your organization - and hope you visit and enjoy it frequently.

Regardless of your opinion on the Empire State Plaza, all must agree that the Egg is a spectacular monument (to what is the question I suppose): an odd bowl perched at a precarious angle hanging over an abyss, like the great rocks one sees suspended on rock pillars out west. I personally have to hand it to the building’s designers, at least they used a little creativity; I reflect upon another example of Upstate mass architecture, the Dome in Syracuse, and the fact that the designers there seemed to try their best to avoid approaching aesthetics like a smart cat does to Solvay.

-by Jesse

Urban Explorations- The Ruins of Upstate New York

2006-11-18T17:38:00.000-05:00

One of the things that I love about this state is its sense of fading glory. You see, with fading glory, you don’t get any of the arrogance of new growth, or the growing pains. Don’t get me wrong, being a crumbling Rust Belt town comes with its own sorrows and pains, but it also seems to come with grim determination and stately resolve. And after all, who’s seen a building built in the last ten years that wasn’t as ugly as sin? In our forests you find the remnants of old stone walls and farmer’s wells and in the brownfields and old neighborhoods of our cities are hidden little gems. [“Adventures in Johnson City,” by the author]

Two hundred years ago, European Romantic poets, writers and painters “discovered” their ruins. Suddenly, the old castle on the hill that had always been used locally as a source for cheap cut stone and was possibly considered something of an eyesore, was instead “picturesque” and a piece of important nationalist heritage. Something similar is going on all around us today. Perhaps to the surprise of many, a generation of local artists, writers and thinkers are becoming fascinated with Upstate New York’s ‘picturesque’ ruins.

Have you ever known the joy of pushing open the old iron door of the abandoned factory and walking among the rusted-out machines illuminated through grimy windows that make dust motes sparkle? Have you ever stepped into the once-grand dance hall where local pirate-developers have stripped out even the floor tiles and thought of the legendary jazz bands that played there in the ‘20s or the days when it was a roller rink and your grandmother courted young Poles? There is simply something fantastic about abandoned buildings and what many consider an eyesore is precious to a growing few (ex)urban explorers. The RocWiki site even has a page listing destinations for “Urban Exploration.” Perhaps the coolest Rochester ruin is definitely the Abandoned Subway, providing residence for those without other homes and canvases for those without other artistic outlets since 1956.

In my continuing lookout for information on ruins, I have found a site dedicated entirely to abandoned towns, although it is entitled “Ghost Towns and History of the American West,” it has a nice subpage for Ghost Towns of New York. The site details twelve abandoned settlements from the infamously polluted Love Canal in the suburbs of Buffalo (here’s the Wikipedia article) to Tawahus, the ghost village that sits nestled below the Adirondack High Peaks (here’s a nice site of pictures of the spectacular—and surreal—abandoned iron mines at Tahawus).

By the way, did you know that much of Love Canal, perhaps America’s most famous toxic site, has been redeveloped and is now called Black Creek Village and inhabited by families? Before you get up in arms, some of the first inhabitants were actually former Love Canal residents who wanted to move ‘back home.’ Interesting to know. Even the “Uninhabitable Zone” behind the fences is still occupied:

Seventy-three year old Chester Pysz can't understand why they call the five-block area at the heart of Love Canal the "Uninhabitable Zone" - namely because, he still lives there… Chester remembers when the toxic ooze began to seep into people's basements, when the vegetables in his garden began to wither, when his neighbors began to get headaches, kidney disease, and respiratory infections. A panic came over the town, and within a year or two, almost all of the town's 900 residents were evacuated. But Chester never left. Now, twenty years later, he and another man of ninety-five are the Zone's last inhabitants. And some days, when the winter wind howls down these unplowed streets, it feels like they are the last two men on earth…

[The residents of Black Creek] call the Uninhabitable Zone their "own private Eden" - it's a place where they can pick wildflowers and walk their dog without a leash. Occasionally they encounter Chester Pysz, who remains more determined than ever to ignore the EPA's seemingly arbitrary distinction. There is little to say these days. His house sits just fifty yards from the edge of Black Creek Village, but as far as all of them are concerned, it's a different world. [1]

A bit creepy eh? If you’re interested in more essays on exploring the abandoned world around us, check out these earlier York Staters posts:

Old Jamesville Penitentiary
The Going Rate
The Ghost Deer of Romulus (and Part II)
Hudson Valley Ruins
Adventures in Johnson City
Anybody want to buy a fort?

Enjoy your explorations!

-Jesse

[1] “Locations that Almost Made the Book” from the official website of “Braving Home,” a book of America’s most extreme hometowns by Jake Halpern.

The Lost Treasure of Phoencia

2006-11-13T17:15:00.000-05:00

In my opinion, lately the quantity and variety of good old-fashioned York Stater folklore has declined greatly on this site, so I thought it was time to jump start with something new. So, in lieu of our usual tales of haunted cemeteries (like this one and this one) and unique recipes, I would like to pass on a legend of a fantastic treasure buried in the rolling foothills of the Catskills.

The story begins in 1935, when the legendary mobster Dutch Schultz—fleeing a prison sentence for tax evasion—along with his flunkie Lulu Rosenkrantz, brought his fortune in a metal box north from New York City. They buried it under a tree (which they marked with an ‘X’) next to the Esopus Creek in Phoencia [map]. The exact nature of the treasure varies, from $5 million to $9 million; some say that it was all in hard cash, others say it was a mixture of cash, gold and jewels. [1]

Schultz was a legendary racketeer, bootlegger and mob boss famous for his brutality: “Enemies often ended up dead, one hung by his thumbs on a meat hook.” [2]

Schultz's success -- and probably his talent for making headlines -- caught the attention of prosecutor Thomas Dewey, the future New York governor and Republican presidential nominee. Mob historians believe that by 1935, Schultz wanted Dewey killed. But New York City's other crime lords, uncomfortable with murdering the high-profile lawman, decided instead to get rid of Schultz. Assassins were dispatched to the Palace Chophouse in Newark, N.J., the night of Oct. 23, 1935. As his henchmen were sprayed with gunfire at a table, Schultz was plugged in the bathroom with a rusty .45 bullet. [2]

Despite being shot in the spleen, stomach, colon and liver, Dutch lived for another 24 hours. In a Manhattan hospital, the feverish gangster babbled strange phrases (that is a link to the transcription), which were dutifully recorded by a police stenographer:

Oh, mama, mama, mama . . .I am a pretty good pretzler. . .How many shots were fired at me?. . . John, please, did you buy me the hotel for a million?. . .I'll get you the cash out of the box. . .there's enough in it to buy four-five more. . .You can play jacks and girls do that with a soft ball and do tricks with. . .Lulu, drive me back to Phoenicia. . .Don't be a dope Lulu, we better get those Liberty bonds out of the box and cash `em. . .sure it was Danny's mistake to buy `em and I think they can be traced. . .Danny please get me in the car. . .Kindly take my shoes off, they're not off. . .there's handcuffs on `em . . . Wonder who owns these woods?. . .he'll never know what's hidden in `em. . .My gilt-edge stuff and those rats have tuned in. . .What did that guy shoot me for? [1]

Since then, the legend of Dutch Schultz’s treasure has become something of a local (and beyond) passion in Phoencia. People search the woods with everything from metal detectors to backhoes, some referencing maps, others combing Dutch’s ramblings and the enigmatic statements of his fellow mobsters for clues. There has even been a film made about it: Digging for Dutch. In many ways, the search for Dutch has become a part of the identity and pride of this little town deep in the mountains—which is perhaps worth more than anything Dutch left behind.[3]

-By Jesse

[1] “Dutch Schultz and his lost Catskills Treasure” from Purple Mountain Press
[2] “Did mobster Dutch Schultz bury millions?” from the Chicago New Times, July 17th, 2005 by Michael Hill.
[3] “Eye For Film: Digging for Dutch” and “Dutch Schultz’s Millions”