Monthly Archives: January 2015

Three Ordinary Lifetimes: High Schools, Unions, Bibles… and the Ku Klux Klan

Last week we looked at the fact that three lifetimes… just ordinary lifetimes of 75 years each – would take us back to 1790 and George Washington’s first full year as President. And we looked at what a person born on that day would have experienced, as he or she lived from the beginning of Washington’s first term to the end of Lincoln’s.
Now imagine with us a second child, born on this day in 1865, on the 75th birthday of the one we looked at first.
On this day in 1865 people were feeling the wondering realization that the end of the Civil War was in sight. Local men with Grant were, as they had been for months, hammering away at Petersburg, the key to Richmond and Lee’s dwindling army. Local men with Sherman, having already marched from Atlanta to the sea and captured Savannah at the end of it, were kicking off for a northward drive into the Carolina’s, chasing Johnston’s also-dwindling army.
In March Lincoln was re-inaugurated, promising malice toward none, and charity to all. Listening in the crowd was an infuriated John Wilkes Booth, who was in love with malice but a stranger to charity.
In April Grant broke through the defenses of Petersburg, sending Davis’s government and Lee’s both army on the run. Grant cornered Lee a week later, and captured his entire army. Lincoln remarked in an impromptu speech that maybe “some” of the black soldiers should be allowed to vote. Booth, again lurking nearby, gave in completely to rage. Just days later he finally took up arms for the Confederacy, shooting a middle-aged man from behind in the dark. With telegraph lines limited, many local towns didn’t get the news for days.
Over the next couple of months the remaining Confederate armies tossed in the towel, and the boys came marching home. Released soldiers in Bath got drunk and embarked on a race riot, attacking black people on the perverse “logic” that they had been “responsible” for the war.
Two years later, after lengthy debate, Bath integrated its schools.
The year after that, Brooklyn Flint Glass Works moved to Corning. Good rail connections let them move product out, but a one-track shortline, moving coal, wood, and sand up from Pennsylvania, sealed the deal.
Out along the lakes, grape and wine production grew feverishly.
Laws and Congressional amendments established African Americans as citizens and protected their rights, but most northern whites turned their backs and allowed white southerners to mount what boiled down to a race war.
As we hit our nation’s centennial in 1876, both the nation and the region were becoming more industrial. Our local cities of Corning, Hornell, Geneva, Canandaigua, and Ithaca were incorporated during this period. Ithaca, of course, also boomed with the new land-grant college system.
Local farm families formed Granges for mutual support and encouragement. Built-up areas started providing themselves with water, phone, and electric systems, though electricity was often part-time. Electric trolleys appeared, but would be gone within fifty years or so.
When George Armstrong Custer led his men into annihilation at the Little Big Horn, Bath men named their Union veterans post in his honor.
In 1879 New York opened its State Soldiers and Sailors Home in Bath, “to care for him who shall have borne the battle,” in Lincoln’s words. A great many local communities formed public libraries.
In 1872, most Corning businesses gave their employees the day off for Christmas. But for many workers, December 25th and the 4th of July were work days well into the new century. In 1890, firings at Corning Glass Works led to 200 men and boys walking out, and the start of a long unionization struggle.
Christian Science appeared during this period, along with the Jehovah’s Witness and Pentecostal movements. The first new English Bible appeared since 1611.
Niagara Falls became America’s first state park. Watkins Glen followed some years later.
Even small towns across the region opened high schools, or paid to send their kids to school.
In 1876 AND in 1888, our ridiculous electoral college system torpedoed us again. In both cases the voters chose a president… and the electors seated the guy who lost.
Two presidents — Garfield and McKinley — were assassinated.
In 1894 New York voters approved the Constitutional provision that state forest lands ‘be forever kept as wild.” In 1901 President Theodore Roosevelt established he first National Wildlife Refuge.
We had a war to free Cuba, during which we grabbed Hawaii, Wake, Guam, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines, besides setting up our own puppet government in Havana.
As the new century dawned, internal combustion became a force in the land. Nowhere locally was this more evident than in Hammondsport, where factories for motorcycles, blimps, and even airplanes – not to mention the engines themselves – sprang up. The spark plug for all this combustion was of course Glenn Curtiss, who made millions on the First World War.
That war left more empty seats around the table, meanwhile vaulting America into world prominence. The Spanish Influenza rushed in as the war neared its end, killing millions. Hundreds died locally.
The “Great Migration” was in full swing, as African Americans freed themselves from the south much as Jews would soon flee Germany.
Prohibition clobbered the economy of the Finger Lakes, which tried to make it up by paving the roads and promoting tourism. The Finger Lakes Tourism Alliance came to be.
As Catholic city-dweller Al Smith rose to prominence, hysterical rural folks formed Ku Klux Klan chapters. State headquarters were in Binghamton, and Yates County Fairground was a favored site for rallies. African Americans from Bath took the lead in fighting the Klan, which dwindled considerably (but did not vcanish) by the 1930s.
Franklin D. Roosevelt contracted polio in 1921. In 1928 he ran for governor, barnstorming every county by auto caravan, proclaiming his progressive record and asking delighted crowds, “Do I look sick to you?”
Across the country what looked like a boom proved to be a bubble, and the world plunged into a Depression that some economists compared to the Dark Ages. Hammondsport was one of many communities that helped sweep Roosevelt into the White House. He’d promised to end Prohibition, and did, and they immediately went back to voting Republican.
In one year of Depression Steuben County aided something like 5000 homeless people in transient camps and bureaus, and 3000 in the poorhouse. Public works from Washington and Albany helped. These included Glenn Curtiss Memorial School, Dansville High School, Painted Post post office, Stony Brook State Park, and Watkins Glen State Park. Civilian Conservation Corps worked on the parks and on soil conservation. After the catastrophic 1935 flood, which killed far more people than the 1972 flood, work got under way on Almond and Arkport dams.
As his second term neared its end in 1940, F.D.R. was desperate to retire and concentrate on his physical therapy, which bode fair to vastly improve his mobility. But Hitler had invaded Poland just months earlier, while Japan had been savaging China for a decade. With war at the door and depression still snapping at our heels, a soft-spoken sentiment grew slowly but steadily louder – we want Roosevelt again.

Three Ordinary Lifetimes: Indians, Irish, Mexicans, and Slaves

Let’s imagine – a person celebrating his or her 75th birthday today, as you read this. That person would have been born in 1940, during Franklin Roosevelt’s second term of office.
Then imagine a person celebrating his or her 75th birthday on THAT day. THAT person would have been born in 1865, near the end of Lincoln’s first term. So two ordinary lifetimes would take us back to the Civil War.
Ah, but then imagine a THIRD person, having his or her 75th birthday on that day in 1865. That THIRD person would have been born in 1790, during George Washington’s first full year of office.
Three ordinary lifetimes comprise nearly the entire history of our country and its Constitution. But what happened during each of those 75-year spans – locally, and nationwide?
To start with our 1790 person… new states began to be admitted almost immediately, added to the original 13. A series of harsh treaties stole the land of the Iroquois. Charles Williamson and his party poled, rowed, or paddled up the river to found Bath, then start developing the region. Our Finger Lakes counties were erected during this time, starting with Ontario, then going on to Steuben in 1796, then a string of others finishing with Schuyler in 1856.
George Washington freed his slaves – numbering hundreds – in his will. That Constitutional abortion, the electoral college, caused a crisis in our fourth presidential elections, forcing the House of Representatives to choose between Adams and Jefferson.
The War of 1812 took hundreds of local men to (and even over) the Niagara Frontier. Ira Davenport, John Magee, John Kennedy and George McClure were all veterans. Then the electoral college screwed us up again, seating John Quincy Adams insead of Andrew Jackson, who actually won the votes.
Saddlebag preachers like Daniel Averitt (Presbyterian), James Brownson, and Moses Rowley (Baptist) scattered new churches across our region.
The fourth of July in 1827 marked a signal change. For the first time in two centuries, there were no slaves in the state of New York.
Arks and rafts floated down the rivers, carrying produce to Baltimore. The Erie Canal opened in 1825, yanking traffic away from the Southern Tier. By 1830 or so, steamboats started paddling the Finger Lakes. In 1851, the Erie Railroad brought lost traffic back. Along with the railroad came the telegraph.
During the Potato Famine a wave of Irish immigration (both nationally and locally) sparked rage against Catholics, a force that coalesced into the new American Party, or Know-Nothings.
Down in Virginia, Nat Turner raised his doomed (and excessively murderous) rebellion. Out west we picked a fight and launched the Mexican War, stealing almost half of that country. Ulysses S. Grant, who fought in the war, said it was the worst crime ever perpetrated by a strong country upon a weak one.
All of the towns in Steuben County were created during this period. Towns like Penn Yan, Prattsburgh, Bath, and Hammondsport created academies – what we would call high schools. Elsewhere kids went to one-room schools – 400 of them in Steuben County alone.
The vast forest that covered western New York all but disappeared. The wood went for construction and fuel, the land went for farming or grazing. Grape culture and winemaking began to appear along the lakes. Grapes were said to be the only thing that Pulteney folks had ever discovered that would justify the taxes on their land.
John Jones in Elmira, William Seward in Auburn, and Frederick Douglass in Rochester were among the thousands who clandestinely and illegally operated the Underground Railroad. Blood ran red in Kansas and at Harpers Ferry – even as it had already done, for 250 years, under the lash. Lincoln was elected with a pledge not to interfere with slavery in the states. Southern leaders lied to their people, said he was plotting a race war, and spurred many of their people into rebellion.
Thousands went to war from our region, and hundreds died. But that radical new government created the Homestead Act, the land-grant college system, absentee voting, income tax, the draft, and home delivery of the mail (in cities). Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation, and delivered the Gettysburg Address.
As we finished up our first 75-year span, well over half a million men were already dead. Grant’s army (including many local men) was besieging Petersburg, the key to Richmond. Sherman’s army (including many local men) had marched from Atlanta to the sea. Now they kicked off northward, pushing Joe Johnston’s troops before them. The end was in sight, but there was still a lot of dieing to go.

Meet the Neighbors: the Great Horned Owl

As most of us, in this freezing weather, rush from door to car and back again, with flaps and earmuffs and stocking caps jammed over our ears… and especially as we try to get in before dark… we don’t realize the startling drama taking place all around us. It’s mating season for the great horned owl.
Really? Now? In THIS weather!? It seems like slap in the face for Darwin. Scarcely any bird starts in even this early (let alone sooner), and the eggs are laid mighty early too – around here, often starting late in February. That cold sparse time is a mighty risky season in which to lay eggs and hatch out chicks. But all in all, the owls have been pretty successful with it. One thing they stint on, though, is nest building. They often commandeer the nest of an eagle, osprey, blue heron, or large hawk, none of whom actually need it at this time of year.
I spent five years volunteering with the Pennsylvania Atlas of Breeding Birds in the 1980s. With the commonwealth divided into 5000 equal-sized blocks we found the bird in half of them, and detected it as a confirmed or probable breeder in half of those. No doubt there would have been more, save for the inconvenience of the owls being nocturnal.
The great horned owl is “the” owl to most of us. This is the one we see pictures of, the one in cartoons, the one we conjure up in our mind’s eye and our mind’s ear. With those riveting huge eyes and those tufts that look like horns or ears (they’re neither), the great horned owl looks looks almost like a fellow human. One you won’t turn your back on, to be sure.
Even the hoo-hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo call is the stereotypical (or archetypal) sound of the owl.
Great horned owls are big birds. The chord of the wing – basically the cross-section from leading edge to trailing edge – is a foot or more. The span of the wings, though, can be well over four feet. The bird itself’s about two feet long. The span of the talons – on a single foot! – pushes eight inches when fully spread.
All this size is breathtaking, but I’m still amused to remember that lovely description by Kenneth Roberts – “one-fifth head and three-fifths bone, and the rest mostly voice.”
Those talons with their eight-inch spread exert 300 pounds per square inch when they seize something – which means that it stays seized. Their huge eyes give them excellent vision in the dark, and asymmetrically-placed ears help them bi-angulate moving prey.
Their wings are also formed in such a way, and operate in such a manner, as to minimize the sound that they make in flight – a superb adaptation for hunting.
Even so… not long after dark one night I was prowling outside the wooded edge of a quarry when I spotted a great horned owl shifting around high in a tree. I watched it (or at least its silhouette) for as long as I could (while the bird watched me).
At length the bird decided to shove off and sailed over the open field, and over me. I’d been watching the bird for some time. I knew what it was. I watched it coming. And the whoosh of its wings – however quiet they may be – still frightened me. It’s hard to explain, except to say that this is one mighty impressive bird.

To Those We’ve Lost

Doing this sort of thing is always nerve-wracking. But I wanted to raise the hat for those who’ve left us… from December to December… even though there’s always the risk of leaving someone out. But we miss these folks… most of them I miss personally… and I wanted to speak their names.

DON ZIMMER  Future baseball All-Star played his second professional year with the Hornell Dodgers.  He and his wife were married at home plate on Dunn Field in Elmira.
DICK PEER For many years Dick was managing editor of this newspaper… coming up through the ranks and filling other roles along the way. Readers throughout the coverage area appreciated his column “Peering Around,” in which he explored aspects of our region’s history. Dick passed away just as Corning-Pained Post Historical Society was releasing a long-awaited “Peering” collection.
GEORGE O’BRIEN George was a railroad man. In fact, an ERIE Railroad man. Some of us knew him personally, but many others got to know him through his wife Bea’s book “One Track,” describing George’s railroad life. They lived at Loon Lake.
CHARLES CHAMPLIN Charles once told me that he left western New York for southern California “as soon as I heard about it.” But in many ways he never left his boyhood home in Hammondsport, even while among the tinsel, the glitter, and the actual stars of Hollywood. His memoir “Back There Where the Past Was: A Small-Town Boyhood” has enchanted readers from coast to coast, many of whom had never even heard of Hammondsport. Ray Bradbury wrote the foreword.
DICK AYERS The Great Depression brought Dick and his parents to join family in Pulteney, and Dick attended high school in Hammondsport for two or three years. After service in World War II he charged into his chosen profession – drawing comic books – and supported a family on his success. Though he did volumes of war and superhero comics, he also stood out in westerns, setting his stories among the rocks and ravines of Colorado and Nebraska. “My west,” he said, “is Pulteney.”
BRIAN GRIGSBY Brian for many years was a workshop volunteer at Curtiss museum, helping build those exacting (and exciting) flying copies of pioneer airplanes, and restoring originals as well.
JEANNE CURTISS Mrs. Glenn Curtiss Jr. never knew her famous father-in-law, but she was the last of the family of “the airplane boy.” Though she never had any direct connections to our area, she enjoyed her occasional visits and was happy to be generous, because it had been important to her husband, and he was important to her. Both the artifacts and the funding for Curtiss Museum’s “Florida Years” gallery were Jeanne’s gift.
GIL AND ELLIE PARTRIDGE Gil and Ellie were active for many years in Avoca Historical Society. Ellie worked at Davenport Hospital and at Davenport/Dormann Library, and served on the board of Steuben County Historical Society.
TED MARKHAM Ted was Steuben County Agricultural Agent for 19 years, working in every area from forage to wineries. He also raised Christmas trees. But he will perhaps be most fondly remembered as having been instrumental in developing Mossy Bank Park. The nature center there is named in his honor.
DR. S. DONALD STOOKEY Don Stookey passed away at the age of 99. In a long career at Corning Inc./Corning Glass Works he developed Pyroceram, which became the basis for the CorningWare found in a million homes. He was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame.
DR. JOSEPH G. PADDOCK What can I say about Joe? An alumnus of local one-room schools and the Haverling High School, Joe was a beloved veterinarian for decades. He was one of the founders of what’s now the Finger Lakes S.P.C.A. He was a fount of local history, a mainspring of Steuben County Historical Society, and instrumental in the Society’s move into its Magee House home. And all of that’s just an inadequate summary. Joe was a friend and guide to me almost from the moment I arrived on our regional history scene, 19 years ago this month.
To Joe… Ted… Brian… Dick… Jeanne… and every one of you. Thanks for all you did for us. We miss you all. Safe journey.