Last week in this space we looked at the careers of two inductees for the Steuben County Hall of Fame 2015 class. James W. Empey from Bath was a fighter ace and hero of World War II who went on to fly dangerous unarmed missions in Vietnam. John Kennedy from Kanona (or Kennedyville, as it was back then) was a hero in the War of 1812, then went on to serve in various public offices, notably as the first man elected county sheriff without having earlier held the office by appointment.
The final inductee was Dr. Joseph Emory Paddock, who was officially inducted on the first anniversary of his death. It was not the first time he’d been suggested, but Joe had always firmly quashed such suggestions in the past. With his passing, moves quickly got on foot to place his name in nomination.
Joe was born in 1927 in the Italy area of Yates County, but his family moved north of Bath to Mitchellsville Road while he was still young. He attended the one-room school (now a private home) on Brundage Road, then went on to Haverling School, from which he was graduated in 1944. Like nearly all the young men of those years he quickly went into World War II military service, though he would always make clear, with a smile, that he was in the “chair-borne” division, serving with the army’s adjutant general department. His draft detachment went by train from Bath to Buffalo. There it was assembled with other groups and then shipped by train back through Bath to points east. Joe gave a drive-by tour of the village from the observation car.
For several summers he did the backbreaking work of a railroad gandy dancer – working with a team using long crowbars to buck the rails into place. After 1948 graduation from the University of Rochester he followed an uncle’s footsteps to Cornell and a doctorate of veterinary medicine.
Thus he began a 42-year career as a veterinarian in Steuben County. (Plus a reserve stint in the veterinary corps, giving him the ineffable joy of working with army mules).
When Joe started out there were 300 dairies in the Town of Bath alone (half a dozen of them inside the Village limits), and his work was overwhelmingly with large animals. Routinely testing the county farm herd one morning, he was shaken to discover that they were all tubercular. He hurried to inform the disbelieving state veterinarian, who lived locally, and insisted that Joe must have done the test wrong. They got the same result when they did it together, and investigation finally revealed that a jailhouse trustee who worked with the animals had unsuspected and asymptomatic tuberculosis.
Decades later Joe could describe in detail each long-gone farm, its location, its family, and its animals. In 2007 Cornell College of Veterinary Medicine dedicated the Paddock Lecture Hall in honor of Joe, his brother, and their uncle.
Small animals were part of the practice from the start, and children’s pets were often treated without charge. Joe was one of the founders (and a past president) of what became the Finger Lakes Humane Society. Last year the humane society was researching its own history as background for an anniversary and the capital campaign. In almost the last thing he ever did at Magee House, Joe went into the archives and pulled a scrapbook on the earliest years of the humane society.
Which segues into another aspect of Joe’s life, the Steuben County Historical Society. I don’t suppose even he could have counted the hours he dedicated to S.C.H.S. He was a former president, a former treasurer, a long-time board member. He authored or co-authored three books of local history, and numerous articles for the S.C.H.S. quarterly magazine, Steuben Echoes. He served on the Village of Bath Historic Preservation Committee, and the Steuben County Hall of Fame Committee.
In a tremendously significant move, Joe was instrumental in transforming the old Davenport Library into the Magee House, our current home for the County Historian and County Historical Society. As part-time society director, I often wind up unlocking the place in the morning, or locking up later on. Usually it’s alone and quiet, and it always reminds me of that pleasant July morning five years ago when I came on professionally, after having been a member since my earliest days in Bath. It reminds me of Joe giving me keys that morning, and taking me around to show me the ins and outs of the place.
Every week somebody asks a local history question that sparks the same answer – Joe would know. Back in March we needed a document to include with a grant application, and we couldn’t find a copy anyplace we’d have expected to. After we’d puzzled for a while I got an inspiration, rushed to Joe’s old desk, and riffled through his files. He had a copy, of course. Thank you, Joe. Still looking out for us.