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Our remembering Jerry in last week’s column has now lead us to muse about our early days of writing a weekly newspaper column.
Of course, when we started out writing back in 1984 the column was a team effort of the he-we, Jerry, and the she-we, Cathe. Bob and Dale Dupont, then owners of the Freeman’s Journal, asked us to undertake writing a weekly column about Cooperstown.
We remember we gave the idea a definite thumbs down. But the he-we had other ideas.
It all began on January 4, 1984 with ``We thought this was an excellent time of year to take a stab at continuing a column which appeared in `The Journal’ for more years than we can remember. In the first place, all those many organizations, that you may from time to time connect us with, tend to take a break for the holidays leaving us with something we are not accustomed to, namely free time.
We had to find something to do. Secondly, the holidays are a good time for finding all sorts of people going allsorts of places to do all sorts of things. We managed to take note of at least a few of them.
And thirdly, arm twisting, all four of them, on the part of the editor and publisher, works every time. So here we go, where nature smiles.’’
We were off and running, noting the following week on January 11, 1984 that ``We survived the first week! There were no irate calls concerning glaring errors, no nasty words from former English teachers and no announcement of a forthcoming divorce _ yet. And the response of readers with news items overwhelmed us. It seems that there was more coming and going in Cooperstown over Christmas than we thought.’’
We quickly managed to get into a weekly routine for writing the column. As suggestions or thoughts would pop up, the he-we made a list on his WNS legal pad. Then, towards the end of the week, we would decide who would write what. And we discovered early on that there was a great deal of interest on the part of our readers as to exactly who wrote what. And it was not an easy question to answer.
The he-we tried valiantly to deflect the question by announcing it was very personal one, not unlike asking about the most personal matters of someone’s life. Therefore, we were not at all inclined to answer the question. But the question persisted.
Finally on February 8, 1984 we wrote: ``In closing, we feel that we must take time to clear up some basic misconceptions about how we write this column.
It is not true, as David Pratt has suggested, that we sit across the table with pencils drawn. Nor is it true, as Carrie Southworth has suggested, that Cathe really writes the entire column and is generous enough to give credit to Jerry.
Nor, as John Mitchell has suggested, is it true that Jerry is generous enough to let Cathe write the column. Believe it not, we each write every other word.’’
And while we were busily writing every other word to report the comings and goings of Cooperstown, we quickly discovered that we could on occasion slip other items which we found of interest into the column. For example we tackled the issue of doggie deposits on February 22, 1984 when we wrote:
``However, we were dismayed, as usual, to discover that deposits other than snow were not disappearing quite so quickly from our yard. In fact, those large brown piles, which we know for a fact are not anthills, seem to be going nowhere fast.
Therefore, we would like to suggest that now is perhaps the time for all owners of depositors, large and small, to take shovel in hand and do some old fashioned street, sidewalk and lawn cleaning before the #&*&@)&(!! is on the other foot.’’
On March 28, 1984 we continued with the poop issue, along with the issues of pigeons and potholes, when we wrote:
``In closing, we realize that there are many people who only complain about a situation and who never suggest a solution. We do not wish to fall into that category so we offer the following to the village board to use when considering pooches, pigeons and potholes.
As all of us who are required to shovel our lawns periodically can attest, old dog deposits are extremely hard; so hard in fact that one can hardly blast them off the lawn. Therefore, the village should collect such deposits while fresh and fill the potholes with them. This method would allow the village to repair potholes with a long lasting patch material at minimal cost since the material is available all over the village.
Of course, the village streets would then have unsightly brown blotches on them. Horrors! However, if the whitish grey deposits on the pigeon’s favorite Main Street awning are any indication, these deposits could be used over the pothole patches thereby turning the unsightly brown color to concrete grey.
We feel this solution would benefit all concerned and certainly would not be as expensive as other alternatives. We offer this to the board for what it’s worth. We will, of course, continue to entertain any and all thoughts on this and any other related subject.’’
And while the village has to a large degree solved the poop problem by enacting a pooper scooper law and the pigeon dropping were dramatically reduce when pigeons stopped being feed by certain village residents, the potholes, unfortunately some 26 years later, continue to be problematic.
We, of course, have suggested a solution any number of times, but it has never been received with great enthusiasm. If it were up to us, we would simply let the potholes grow until such time as all the asphalt disappears and the streets return to dirt. Nothing, we think, could be more historic.
PLEASE NOTE: Comments regarding this column may be made by mail at 105 Pioneer Street, Cooperstown, NY 13326, by telephone at 607-547-8124 or by e-mail at cellsworth1@stny.rr.com.
Columns
In These Otsego Hills: In the beginning
- Columns
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From Fly Creek: For help with the smug
I’ve been having much fun lately, friends, writing a short book called “Saints for Special Needs,” completely fictional characters whomight get us thinking about humanity—and ourselves, in particular. Here’s a sample. Let me know your reaction. (Oh, and I have a fine cartoonist to illustrate the book!) [Almost every culture has a place for “the wise fool,” the vacant sort of person who, in fact, has a witty and trenchant view of humanity, and may even see into its future.]
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In These Otsego Hills: Still more from 1986
Early August found us asking the question, “Does anyone know when Edgewater was builtand by whom?” The answer, much of which came from Ralph Birdsall’s history of the village, appeared in the Aug. 13 column as follows:
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In These Otsego Hills: Continuing on from 1986 ...
We continue this week by answering the question we asked if anyone remembers the old Cooperstown National Bank? On May 13, we wrote: “Martha Dickison, Delaware Street, called to tell us about the Cooperstown National Bank where she worked at her first ‘real job’ after her graduation from school.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Spring inventions
The second line of Lawrence Durrell’s novel “Justine” reads as follows: “In the midst of winter you can feel the inventions of Spring.” I first read all four novels of his magnificent Alexandria Quartet during the year I traveled from Saigon to Paris after working in Vietnam for a refugee organization for several years.
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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.”
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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?”
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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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From Fly Creek: For help with the smug
