You know, it’s almost
like paging through
a photo album. Every
New Year’s I pull out the
last year’s file and rifle back
through them, recalling the
columns and enjoying again
the pleasure I had writing
them for you. OK, let me be
honest: I wrote them for me,
too. It was fun, even if steadily
harder work.
Let me share a couple of
great memories raised by last
year’s columns, and then add
a final 2009 note, not from
any column but from Christmas
just past. It hasn’t been
in print, but it will stay in my
heart, surely.
A year ago this time
brought a great new feature
to Fly Creek and a new
distinction to our household.
Fly Creek got back a barbershop
of its very own when
Reid Nagelschmitt opened for
business at the Four Corners.
Ried, at six foot eight is a
towering figure among the
world’s barbers, runs a grand
old-fashioned shop, complete
with
back-issue
magazines
and wilted
potted
plants. It’s
just like the
old days;
and when
you drive
by, many of
the gents
you see sitting
inside,
purportedly
waiting for
haircuts, are
really just
enjoying the
ambiance
and busting one another’s
chops. Reid, bless him, has
given Fly Creek a small-scale
Mohican Club.
The big event at our
house last winter was Blue’s
receiving his official papers
as a therapy dog. He’s now
welcome at hospitals, nursing
and retirement homes, and
schools. Last month I tagged
along at Bassett while Blue
did his rounds.
Anne walked him
into the surgical
waiting room
full of silent,
frightened relatives.
She quietly
introduced Blue
as a therapy dog
and said that, as
she walked him
around the room,
anyone was
welcome to pet
him and scratch
his ears. Everyone
did, relieved at
a chance to take
their minds off
their fears.
With Blue’s head resting on
their knees, they told Anne
why they were there, waiting
for a loved one who, in several
cases, had hours more left
in surgery. Anne visited, and
Blue communed, his mismatched
eyes fixed on the
person’s. I have no question
that he was reading their
pain.
I watched in awe, proud
as can be of my wife and
our dog. And when the two
headed off to another waiting
room, I was touched to see
that many who had been
sitting in silent fear were now
talking to one another. Dogs
are instruments of grace.
Another instrument of
grace, begun early in 2009,
is our Parkinson’s support
group. Eight men, who to that
time had been dealing with
their illness largely with the
sole support of their wives,
suddenly had one another.
The result was amazing,
moving; and not just for the
men. For the care partners,
often housebound by their
loved ones’ illness, suddenly
had company that knew
exactly what they were going
through. Everyone has been
strengthened.
I’ll write more about my
own 2009 experiences with
Parkinson’s in a few weeks.
For now, let me again express
Anne’s and my thanks to
the support group men and
women who are now sharing
our pilgrimage with us.
They feel like family.
The added treasured
memory, the one that
hasn’t been in print, follows
on Anne’’s and my annual
custom: With our fellow Fly
Creekers, we join in the
candlelight service at our
hamlet’s United Methodist
Church. For as long as I’ve
known it, this handsome
little church has never been
limited to its own congregation.
It's Fly Creek’s metropolitan
cathedral.
The Christmas Eve service
there always involves
candlelight and wonderful
music, and this past year it
did so in aces. Pastor Tom
Pullyblank had banked the
communion table with
dozens of unlit candles,
seemingly of random colors
and sizes. But they weren’t
random at all. As the short
scripture readings followed
one another, candles were lit
to represent the Christmas
story’s principals. First a pair
of candles was lit to symbolize
Mary and Joseph, heading
for Bethlehem. Then a
short, stolid-looking candle
took flame to stand for the
innkeeper who first refused
and then relented and let
them camp in his stable.
A clutch of homely
candles, lighted in turn,
stood for those poor hillside
shepherds who were
dazzled by heavenly light.
And behind them, a couple
dozen ivory tapers, tall
and graceful, stood for the
angels who raised such a
heavenly ruckus.
Then, of course, three
more candles appeared
toward the front, these
for Casper, Melchior, and
Balthazar.
When the readings were
done, the communion table
was an island of light in the
darkened church. It was
then that a final candle was
lit, representing the Child
new born. And from it, light
spread down the aisles and
along the pews as each of us
touched that candle’s flame
to our own tapers. ``Silent
Night,’’ sung softly just then,
moved us all deeply.
That turned out not to
be service’s closing hymn.
Instead, we stood and sang
carol after carol, accompanied
by the church’s organ
now handsomely restored.
That service was a feast of
music and light.
Thanks, Pastor Tom, for a
wondrous Christmas gift.
What a blessed end to the
year.
READ ABOUT Jim Atwell’s book, From
Fly Creek--Celebrating Life in
Leatherstocking Country, at JimAtwell.
com
Columns
Jim Atwell: Light shining in the darkness
- Columns
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From Fly Creek: Revving up for spring
Time to bring you up to date on Fly Creek’s happy clambering into Spring. First, the eatery scene. “Is Jerry’s open yet?” The answer is, “Oh, yes!” The porches are freshly stained; the lawns a uniform green, and the hop vines are already climbing the posts on the covered side deck. Blue and I went up there to lunch earlier this week, and I celebrated spring with my traditional bacon, onion and Swiss cheese hamburger. We two sat on the deck, enjoying the broad view and some spectacular clouds marching across, up toward Schuyler Lake.
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In These Otsego Hills: More from 1986 ...
This week we continue with the discussion of telephone service from the pre-dial days. On March 12 we noted that: “No one has yet produced a telephone directory from pre-dial days, but Doug Preston of New Hartford recalls that some business (which one?) in the village had the phone number 7.”
Continued ... -
Home Notes: Celebrations abound at the Thanksgiving Home
April was a month of celebrations and much to appreciate. We had a 90th birthday celebration for Wanda Noyes on April 4 including her family and friends. Personal care staff Dee Bouck worked with residents to hand paint Easter eggs for the tree in the activity room.
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In These Otsego Hills: 1986 continues ...
This week we continue our journey through the columns of 1986 with the answer to the question “for whom, according to tradition, was Hannah’s Hill named?”
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Baseball book features local contributors
Baseball is part of the nation’s fabric. Most kids have a memory of the game either from playing Little League, attending a major league contest or meeting a favorite player. In Cooperstown that feeling is magnified since we are the official home of baseball. We get to see firsthand what has made the sport the national pastime.
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From Fly Creek: Ya really wanna know?
SETTING: Fly Creek General Store. CAST: Assorted seated geezers, drinking coffee. [Door opens, enter heavy-set geezer; walking slowly with wide stance, maybe prostatitis.]
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In These Otsego Hills: Returning to 1986 ...
For the past several years now we have undertaken sharing some of the area’s oral history we have collected over the years that we have written this column. Therefore, this year, we would like to go back to 1986 to share that rather unusual year. Those who were here then no doubt remember that it was that year that the village celebrated the bicentennial of its founding.
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From Fly Creek: For reasons unknowable
[Jim’s reached back to 2002 to share one of his favorite columns.] My father was born as the last century began into a river village in tidewater Maryland. He told me once of a man there in his boyhood who, like so many, made a thin living tonging for oysters in the cold months and, in the hot and humid ones, crabbing and raising vegetables.
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In These Otsego Hills: CCS balancing act ... side two
Last week we shared a number of activities in which students at CCS can participate. We thought it was an impressive, if not overwhelming, list. And we are indeed pleased that the young people of our area have these opportunities. However, we think it is also important to keep in mind that these undertakings do have a cost associated with them. They are not free. In fact there are, no doubt, those who would say they do not come cheap.
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From Fly Creek: A graceful crowd
Make of this what you will, friends. I feel I’m really meant to share it with you. Despite good medication for my Parkinsonism, every four or five weeks I can sensethe symptoms building up on me, giving me more than ordinary trouble. Lately it’s been falls, and last week brought a typical one. I’d gone out to get the paper, moving along with penguin steps on the snowcoved ice patches, and usingmy spike-tipped cane the waya climber uses an ice axe. But circumstances overcame me. Parkinson’s wipes out the possibility of multi-tasking.
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In These Otsego Hills: This and that and the other side ...
We note that the CCS Class of 2012 is presenting its senior class play, “Snow White” by Tim Kelly, this week with performances 7:30 p.m Thursday and Friday, March 29 and 30, and at 11 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. Saturday, March 31. All performances will be at the Nicolas J. Sterling Auditorium at the Middle/High School.
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In These Otsego Hills: That green thing ...
Of late we have noticed that our email inbox has been much busier than usual. In fact, we find ourselves hard pressed to keep up with all the various messages we receive. As a result we suspect we have not answered some in as timely a fashion as might be thought appropriate.
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From Fly Creek: What you need to know
In their last Sunday’s bulletins, all 84 churches of Otsego County were to have carried announcements of an important meeting; most of them did. But because the announcement is so important, and not just to the churched, here it is again.
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Book Notes: Living the magic of ‘Hoosier’
A lot of people consider “Hoosiers” the best sports film of all time. The 1986 classic follows the exploits of a fictional small town Indiana high school basketball team in 1952 as it attempts to achieve the impossible dream of a state championship. The story is inspired by the true life achievement of the 1954 Milan team, who with an enrollment of only 161 students shocked big city power Muncie Central on a last second shot to win the state title. It’s the kind of sports story that represents something that is hard to grasp unless you live in a small town.
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In These Otsego Hills: The most perfect village... home to heavy industry?
We suspect we would get a whole lot more accomplished if we spent less time thinking, pondering and musing about things. In fact, there is a good possibility we might actually have completed our goal of cleaning the basement if we only focused on the task at hand, instead of trying to figure out the world around us. It almost makes us wonder if it is possible to think too much about things. We certainly hope not because should that be the case, we are in deep trouble.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: The past in the present
Clichés abound about the value of photographs. Most are probably true at least to a certain extent. What I do know about an image is that it represents something of the past that is not the pastitself. But that is the power of any image. It represents something that once was. The beauty of an image, revisited, is that it functions as a catalystfor reliving in the present a past experience. My own view, one that I thank the Spanish writer Jorge Luis Borges for, is that all we ever can experience is the present.
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Home Notes: Workshops held for Thanksgiving Home residents
We welcomed Linda Keller, Ph.D. of the Bassett Research Institute and Ida Baker of NYCAMH who presented a six-week workshop for residents and staff.
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From Fly Creek: Late-winter hamlet news
Well, at least I’m “guessing” it’s late winter now — in the winter that wasn’t. But, if not snow, I can provide a flurry of Fly Creek news to share with you, scooping Associated Press, Reuter’s, and United Press International, not to mention all local news services except our General Store.
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In These Otsego Hills: Waiting for spring to have sprung ...
Difficult as it to believe, both January and February seem to have flown by and we find ourselves turning the calendar over to the month of March, which we have long thought is one of the more dreary months of the year. Of course, as in the pastthere are signs of spring as reflected by the tapping of the maple trees. For many years, the trees sprouted buckets to capture their all important sap. However, we now know to look for the sap collection lines that are strung from tree to tree.
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Book Notes: Kennedy: a unique individual
It’s been almost 50 years since the Kennedy assassination shocked the nation. Since then much has been written about President John F. Kennedy and whether he would have achieved his destiny (whatever that may have been) if he had lived. It is said he inspired young people in a way that has never been equaled. And there is the notion of Camelot, espoused by his widow Jackie, that there will never be a time of hope and promise like that again.
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From Fly Creek: Revving up for spring
