First, an apology: Last
week, I chopped two inches
off Reid the Fly Creek barber’s
height. He is not a
towering six-foot-six, but a
stratospheric six-foot-eight.
Watch out, low-flying aircraft.
Reid’s Fly Creek shop
shows every sign of continued
success. It reminds me
that, before a recent hiatus
of about fifteen years, Fly
Creek had probably had an
almost unbroken line of
barbers back to its earliest
days. Such was the way
with hamlets like ours,
which met most of their
needs with shops and stores
right at hand.
And we had industry,
too. Through the 19th century’s
second half, Fly
Creek was noisy, six days a
week, with the steady
clanks and bangs coming
from the Badger Ironworks.
Badger’s poured and assembled
all manner of castiron
objects, including a
handsome woodstove now
on display in our Historical
Society. I’m guessing even
the Sabbath must have
been fairly noisy around
here, at least on toward
eleven o’clock. That’s when
the bells of all three flourishing
churches vied to lure
the devout.
The 1872 Fly Creek
boasted, beside Badger’s, a
general store, a machine
shop, three blacksmiths,
two wagon-wrights, a cobbler,
a creamery, two hat
shops, a hotel, and, of
course, a barber shop. I’m
not sure where that barber
was located, but I do know
where his lineal successor
did business in the 1930’s.
It was right where Reid has
set up shop.
My source for that fact
was Arrie Hecox, who lived
Fly Creek history from his
1914 birth till his death after
the century’s end. Arrie
patronized that barber and
had colorful tales about
him, some downright bizzare.
The man, for instance,
never could find a set of
false teeth that pleased
him. When he got a new
set, he added the rejects to
a collection in the barbershop.
In the barber chair,
said Arrie, a customer faced
all of the barber’s former
china choppers, grinning at
him from the four shelves
of a glass-front cabinet.
Card games went on in
that shop constantly, with
the barber almost always
involved. He’d leave his
hand face down on the table
and watched the play while
he clipped away on a customer.
(More than a few
earlobes got snipped in the
process.) When his turn
came to play, he’d abandon
his customer and sit at the
table. Then he’d go back to
his clipping with no apology
to customer, who’d likely
been following the game,
too.
That barber, said Arrie,
had victimized himself with
drink, to the point that delirium
tremens made his
hands shake violently.
When he’d lathered up a
customer’s neck and around
his ears, he’d have to gather
himself before wielding
the straight razor. ``Men
who never prayed anywhere
else,’’ Arrie said
grimly, ``would pray in that
barber chair.’’
Sadly the barber’s D.T.’s
got so bad that they produced
awful hallucinations,
usually while he was alone
in the shop. He’d feel ants
crawling up his pants legs,
see giant spiders scooting
up the walls and dropping
from the ceiling. Neighboring
storekeepers would
hear him screaming in terror
and rush to his aid.
Like an EMT unit, they’d
run into the barbershop,
grab the hysterical man,
and throw him face down
across three chairs. Then,
as one sat on his back, a
second pulled off his shoes
and socks, and a third
fetched a wide pine board
kept in the corner for such
emergencies. The third
man would haul off with
that board and, WHAM!,
slam the barber across the
bare soles of both feet. I
guess it was a kind of primitive
reflexology that set
synapses sparking all
through his brain.
The effect was instantaneous.
They sat the nowcalm
barber up. He thanked
them, pulled on his shoes
and socks and limped over
to the barber chair, ready
for the next customer. Not
a biting ant to be felt, not a
giant spider to be seen. Until
the next time.
I hope to convince Reid
that, next Fly Creek Day,
we should stage a re-enactment
of his predecessor’s
rescue from his delusions.
This would show hundreds
of bargain-hunters (here
for the yard sales) one of
our hamlet’s great traditions:
We look out for each
other.
I figure the reenactment
should be staged at least
four times during the day.
We’ll close off the Four Corners,
and that would be the
signal for Reid, inside the
shop and dressed like a
‘30’s barber, to begin whooping
and bellowing about
ants and spiders. In turn,
that would signal staff from
Portabello, the general
store, and Harmony House
(all dressed in Depression
garb) to rush towards the
barbershop.
At that point, Reid would
burst forth, brushing imaginary
spiders from his head
and slapping his pants legs
to squash the ants, his face
a twisted mask of terror.
(The reenactment can’t be
inside the shop because the
crowd wouldn’t see.) So
Reid will burst forth, still
bellowing, halfway collapse
down his front steps, and
fall to the sidewalk on his
face. (Shuddering moans
would be good at this point,
but we’ll leave Reid to improvise.)
What drama!
Now his rescuers will be
at his side. Dirk of Harmony
House will sit on Reid’s
back. I’d thought of having
Josh of Portabello’s do that,
but we don’t want broken
bones. Instead, Josh will
yank off the shoes and
socks.
By then, Big John of the
general store, almost as tall
as Reid, will have run in
and out of the shop, bringing
with him the big pine
board. Stationing himself
south of Reid’s feet, John
will drop into a batter’s
stance (an homage to Cooperstown),
then haul off
and slam Reid’s feet. I’m
thinking we can count on a
realistic scream from Reid.
But then, wondrous to
behold, he will sit up, looking
dazed. His helpful
friends will get him to his
feet, then hand him his
shoes and socks. And a
grateful Reid, after shaking
hands all around, will hobble
up the steps and into
his shop. The cheers, the
whistles, the applause will
be deafening.
That’s when we pass the
hat.
Read about Jim Atwell’s
book, From Fly Creek--Celebrating
Life in Leatherstocking
Country, at JimAtwell.
com
Columns
Jim Atwell: The latest in a long line
- Columns
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
It is with sadness that we note the passing of long time friend, and distantrelative, Jane Patrick. Over the years we have worked with Jane in a number of organizations including Women’s Club and the Community Advisory Committee at Bassett. And, of course, in later years we joined her, along with the other Dinner Belles, for any number of delicious meals. But we do think that our favorite memory that we shared with Jane was when we discovered, having both married Cooperstown natives, that we shared Cooperstown Christmas plans.
Continued ... -
Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
Bird feeder is a relative term. At least that is the case around here. A few mornings ago we spotted the first rabbit to visit the feeders. Normally, all we see during the winter are rabbit tracks crisscrossing the gardens.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Cheers for the Blue Rabbit!
My handwriting’s always been an embarrassment. Way back in elementary school, while most of the others were developing a clear, sometimes graceful hand (especially the girls), my penmanship showed no improvement.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: This and that ...
We have found the weather so far this year to be on the unusual side. And while we have no problem with the fact that we have received very little snow, we are of the opinion that what we have had instead is not particularly to our liking either. In fact, we are very hesitant to venture out much as we live in fear that the rain will turn to mixed precipitation which will freeze into a sheet of ice. And we are definitely opposed to encountering a sheet of ice underfoot. In fact, we are so hesitant that we now have taken to canceling our participation in events based on what just might be a dubious forecast.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Feinstein’s latest is sheer enjoyment
Most people who follow sports have probably heard of John Feinstein. As a nationally known author, sportswriter, pundit and broadcaster, he has brought a unique angle to sports journalism. His groundbreaking book on Bobby Knight’s 1986-87 Indiana University basketball team, “A Season on the Brink,” still resonates today as an all-time classic.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: No Trekkie should miss Shatner’s books
It would be hard to find a television phenomenon as popular as “Star Trek.” Even though it was only on television for three seasons and 79 episodes (1966-69) it attracted viewers and devotees that still follow it passionately 45 years later. The fanatical supportspawned several movies and television spinoffs. Star Trek conventions continue to this day. There has never been anything like it.
Continued ... -
Up on Hawthorn Hill: Making sense of things
A book I have been reading investigates the various ways over time that we have made sense of the world. It carries the reader through to the present via several seminal classical texts and ultimately aims to suggest a strategy for “ finding meaning in a secular age.”
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In These Otsego Hills: ‘Property must be secured or liberty cannot exist.’ − John Adams
Last week we were asked if we would be interested in previewing a documentary, “The Empire State Divide,”produced by the Foundation for Land & Liberty. And we were more than happy to do so as we understood the documentary dealt with the problems that continue to face family farms.
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From Fly Creek: Now wait a minute!
On the ninth day of Christmas, driving down Cooperstown’s Eagle Street, I saw something astounding! No, not “nineladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans” etc. I saw one jogger jogging. And puffing on a cigarette.
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In These Otsego Hills: Goals of the past and goals of the future
We have long subscribed to the concept that we are always more successful if we, number one, set a goal and then, number two, meet it. And this was our thinking when we decided before Christmas to watch at least part of every college football bowl game. It was perhaps an odd, if not completely nonsensical, goal.
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In These Otsego Hills: Not to our liking ...
It is with sadness that we note the recent death of Steve Nagel. The son-inlaw of our late husband’s cousins, Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek, Steve was married to the Ecklers’ oldest daughter, Gail. We had the pleasure of spending Christmas Eve with the Nagels and the Ecklers in Fly Creek, greatly enjoying the delicious food and delightful conversation.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of birds and faith
I watch birds quite a bit. Every five days or so I send in a report to Cornell as partof its annual Project Feeder Watch program. The data, collected from volunteers from all over the country, enables scientists to track population trends. I would spend quite a bit of time checking out the visitors to our feeders anyway. Participating in the feeder program makes a personal pleasure that much more meaningful. It is rare that aesthetical and scientific endeavors work in tandem.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Biography captures the real Stephen Colbert
It would be hard to find a comedian as unique as Stephen Colbert. As the host of “The Colbert Report” on Comedy Central he hasmanaged to leave his mark on the nation’s consciousness in both a serious and humorous sort of way. His unusual wit has allowed him to become American icon. It would be difficult to find another entertainer quite like him.
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From Fly Creek: Christmas and varied blessings
I’m still astounded! The last farmers’ market before Christmas, I was sitting up front, directly under the ceiling heater, shmoozing with the hoi-polloi. (That’s an awkward linguistic mix,but let’s let it go.) As I sipped my hot coffee, a gloved hand came to rest on my shoulder and a warm voice said, “Merry Christmas, Jim.” I looked to my left—it was Santa Claus!
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In These Otsego Hills: Always a learning experience ...
We must admit that we thoroughly enjoyed our 2011 Christmas celebration. We partook of Christmas Eve dinner at the home of Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek and Christmas Day dinner at the home of Sandy and Al Bullard of Milford. We had our usual Christmas Day brunch at home on Pioneer Street, although we must admit it was a tad bit later than usual as, what we enjoyed most about Christmas, namely our granddaughter Abby, took a great deal of time opening her Christmas presents.
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In These Otsego Hills: Coming up ... 2012
Difficult as it seems, 2011 is fast coming to an end. And it is always our hope that as a year draws to a close, the issues which have been in the forefront during the year will be resolved. Unfortunately, we suspect that will not be the case this year. Instead, we are fairly certain that many of the issues that plagued this year, will continue to plague next year. Thus we will find ourselves still musing about the same issues we have spent time with already. And while we have not come toany conclusions about many of the issues, we do think they would all likely benefit from both sides thinking critically about perspective, risk assessment and possible solutions.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Circularity
When she was a puppy my dog Gabby would run in what I described then as “circles of joy.” She celebrated her15th birthday a few weeks ago and despite the inevitable frailties that old age imposes upon all of us, she is doing pretty well.
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Book Notes: Grisham doesn’t disappoint
John Grisham is one of this country’s most popular authors. Every time he publishes a book it’s an instant best-seller. He appeared on the scene about 20 years ago with his tense legal thrillers, “A Time to Kill” and “The Firm,”and hasn’t stopped producing top-notch novels since.
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From Fly Creek: Still singing, beyond our hearing
This column from Christmas 2001 still speaks deeply to me, and perhaps will to you, too. Take it, please, as my Christmas gift.
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In These Otsego Hills: The 2011 Cooperstown Carol
Since 1984, with the exception of one year, 1999, we have looked forward at the end of the year to going through all the issues of the paper in order to glean those news items which have been worthy of note throughout the year and which should make their way into our annual Cooperstown Carol.
Continued ...
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
