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Now that we have undertaken the beginnings of this column, we fear we find ourselves unable to stop our review of the early writings. In fact, we seem to be completely addicted to the project. And thus, we will continue to explore the very foundations on which this column has been built.
Early on we realized that the weather was one of those fairly safe topics. It was then and it still is now. But the weather in 1984 presented a very challenging time for the Winter Carnival. If we remember correctly there was tons of snow and cold weather in the weeks leading up to the carnival. But by the time the carnival rolled around, the snow had melted and it was warm enough that we were wondering why Cooperstown has so many snow birds.
Consequently, we wrote in the column of February 22, 1984: ``In closing, we have decided, after a great deal of thought, to mention the Winter Carnival. Margaret and the rest of the gang expect it, are prepared for it and would undoubtedly be crushed if it didn’t happen.
Needless to say, this is not the first time the weather has played havoc with well made plans. In fact, longtime Cooperstown resident, Mac Preston says that even back in the days when the Knox School was at the Otesaga, the weather seldom cooperated with the school’s winter carnival plans. She can remember more than once standing, feet freezing, on the tennis courts, which had been flooded and frozen into an ice rink, watching the carnival king perched on his throne of ice, which was melting merrily away. Obviously history repeats itself.
But what we really can’ understand is that if the date of the Winter Carnival is indeed such a good deterrent to winter weather, why isn’t the Carnival scheduled to run from January first right through April?’’
We also made a decision from the very beginning that we would from time to time present the ``You Never Can Tell Award’’ to deserving individuals. Our first one appeared in the our first column of 1984 and read: ``Before closing, we would like to introduce the ``You Never Can Tell Award’’ to be bestowed upon deserving individuals from time to time as the appropriate situation arises. Our first recipient is Barb LaCava who, on the morning of Dec. 14, called to ask Jerry if he could substitute at the high school.
She explained that the other subs she had called were going to the Women’s Club Christmas Tea that day. Guess what, Barb, you never can tell.
Jerry was a delightful Santa at the tea, although we really don’t think it is true that Santa has been coming to Mabel Atwell’s house for almost a hundred years.’’
Our second You Never Can Tell Award was bestowed on January 25, 1984 as follows: ``And finally, this week we would like to present to The Badger, who has proclaimed to the world that he has, heaven forbid, thrown away, as in discarded, his NationalGeographics, the ``you never can tell’’ award.
We too emptied our attic of Geographics.
We struggled them down two flights of stairs, dragged them through the kitchen, and deposited them outside near the back door, hoping against hope that no one would notice. We tried to pretend they were just ordinary, everyday garbage. But alas, we couldn’t fool the garbage men.
The truck backed into the driveway, and magically, two pairs of eyes were riveted to, you guessed it, the boxes and boxes of shiny, yellow, heavier than lead magazines. Instantly the boxes were swooped up and saved. ``These are too good to throw away’’ we were told. So, dear Badger, you may think you have done away with Gilbert Howy Grosvenor’s handiwork, but you never can tell. Somewhere, somehow, someone will manage to save them.’’
And finally, we also learned early on that when someone tells a good Cooperstown story, it should make its way posthaste into the column.
Thus on November 7, 1984 we shared what we consider to this day to be the most classic of Halloween stories.
We quote: ``Halloween is not our favorite celebration.
When one always dresses oddly and always wears a funny face, Halloween loses its attraction. But, George Connell of Chestnut Street shared with us a delightful Halloween story. One year on October 31 calling hours were being held at the funeral home. Many trick or treaters realized that a solemn occasion was in progress and so avoided the place. One small boy, however, strode up to the door and demanded his due.
As George was fetching the goodies, the costumed urchin was peering around the curtain into the room where the open casket was resting with family and friends consoling each other in hushed tones.
After spying the coffin, the wide-eyed boy turned to George and said. `Wow, you really go all out for Halloween, don’t you?’’’ And while we greatly love the story, we are still not fans of Halloween.
And we still now, as we did then, suffer, from time to time, with a lack of news worthy items for the column. This too started early on when we wrote on February 1, 1984 that: ``It seems that this week we are faced with the interesting dilemma of the incredible shrinking column. We would hate to think that a mere five weeks is to be the extent of our journalistic career.
However, the phone has not rung off the wall, the doorbell hasn’t rung for so long we forget with which tune it is currently programmed, and George Robinson delivers less and less mail each day. In a moment of sheer panic, we almost called a certain news bureau to find out exactly what happened on this day in 1843. Instead we opted to check the stoplight. If that still works there is at least some activity in the village.’’
Of course, we hasten to note that in Cooperstown February is a far cry from Cooperstown in August.
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: Continuing our 1984 musings
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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
