Monthly Archives: July 2015

Corning — Worth a Trip

Last week in this space we talked about making a visit to Lima, and this week I thought we’d discuss a visit to Corning.

That may seem superfluous for a paper published IN Corning, but the magic of the internet is that people could be reading his anyplace in the world. And even local folks often overlook what’s right in their own back yard.

For some background, once upon a time there were two Indian towns here – one at the “Painted Post” (at the point where the waters meet), and one at the Chimney Narrows… roughly near the Cedar Street bridge, on the Northside.

Both towns were under Seneca rule, as this whole region was, but the residents weren’t necessarily Seneca by ethnicity. The Southern Tier formed a sort of military frontier, and the Seneca took in distressed groups pushed out by Europeans. These settlers in their new towns formed a sort of distant-early-warning system against white encroachment.

After the Revolution, of course, the U.S. looted millions of acres away from the Iroquois, having already savaged their towns during Sullivan’s invasion. What we now call the Patterson Inn on Pulteney Street was already welcoming visitors in the 1790s, before their was any appreciable permanent white population out here.

What grew up was three settlements… one at the Painted Post, and called by that name; one on the Northside, called Knoxville; and one on the Southside, called Corning. Over time “urban sprawl” has connected them all, and even reached out to take in the Gang Mills. Technically there are three municipalities now… Town of Erwin, Town of Corning, and City of Corning. The incorporated Villages of Riverside, South Corning, and Painted Post remain parts of their towns.

It seems to me that people start their visits to Corning by either heading to the Glass Museum, or strolling down Market Street. Market was lined with saloons and strip joints prior to the 1972 flood, just as Tioga Street was rail tracks and factories. It’s a far more elegant setting today.

One feature seizing the custom of many visitors, not to mention area folks, is several Market Street antique shops. By the nature of things their stock changes constantly, so you never know what you’ll be turning up. Twin Tiers Antiques Plaza has two above-street levels. Market Street Antiques & Collectibles always has a good collection of old-time series books aimed at children – Bobbsey Twins, Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew and more. Mecca Books is a used-book store, where I frequently find comic books to strengthen my collection. Corning Bike Works lovingly keeps a classic “Whizzer” in the front window.

Any visitation of course includes dining, or at least eating. It’s always touchy to write about restaurants, because you just can’t visit them all. But over the years I’ve sampled a fair number.

*Sorge’s is a long-established Corning tradition, in the same family for decades and specializing in Italian food. It’s a very pleasant ambiance, and they’ve come back strong from a catastrophic fire several years ago.
*Rico’s makes excellent pizza, and serves specialty sodas.
*Aniello’s, at the other end of the street, is usually filled with happy chatter. Put in your order at the counter, and get a slice or two of pizza – just right for a quick lunch, especially if you’re by yourself.
*Soul Full Cup is a with-it coffee shop, which makes a good vanilla chai smoothie (among other things).
*Jim’s Texas Hots is a narrow little shop, with tables out on the sidewalk in good weather. They make the best hot dogs with meat sauce (Texas hots) in the four-county area.
*On or just off the street are several chain fast-food places, too.

There are plenty of other retailers, such as Connor’s Mercantile (they get a gold star – they carry my books). West End Gallery treats strollers to a Daliesque melting watch above the storefront. In fact, look up as you’re walking. Market Street is famed for its colorful and creative “blade signs” – merchant and business signs at right angles to the building front.

Up on Spencer Hill is Corning Community College, home to Spencer Crest Nature Center. Corning, in fact, can be a good spot for a few minutes of birding, even if you only have a few minutes. A peregrine falcon once laded right by me outside the library. I once saw a pair of eagles on the flats east of town. And all sorts of waterfowl drift by along he river. Go out on the Centerway pedestrian bridge, and see what you see. The bridge itself leads out from Centerway Square, with its visitor center and its 19th-century clock tower.

Of course, we haven’t even discussed those three significant Corning attractions – Corning Museum of Glass, Rockwell Museum (art of the American west), and Heritage Village of the Finger Lakes, built around the Patterson Inn Museum. Corning’s worth a trip. Have you made one lately?

A Trip to Lima

So I worked in Lima for almost two years, and then for the next six months did work that took me TO Lima frequently. And a couple of weeks ago Mrs. House and I stopped off there on our way back to Bath from Rochester.
First of all, since this is western New York – rather than, say, Peru – it’s pronounced LIE-ma, rather than LEE-ma… though the Catholic church, pleasingly and perhaps inevitably, is St. Rose of Lima.
Twenty years back, when we were here steadily, there were three used bookshops in town. Now the theme seems to be antique stores, some of which were already in business back then. When we stop here we seem to gravitate especially to the large multi-dealer market in the 1855 Baptist church edifice. Prowling around this time we found comic books, Little Golden Books, and CDs of Celtic Woman… not to mention, well, just about everything you’d usually find in a large (two floors) antique establishment. One discovery that was noteworthy for us was 1940s telephone maps of several Steuben County communities. We spent ten dollars on the map of rural Cohocton, largely because it locates the rural schools, and we can use it at Steuben County Historical Society.
A few steps back toward the crossroad we also looked in on another store, where we ran into one of my former employees. This shop was smaller, but focused more on art, ceramics, and higher-end items.
Befitting a town with several antique stores, much of Lima is a National Historic District. The architectural fabric includes an attractive and well-maintained set of historic buildings, such as the 19th-century firehouse. The Tennie Burton Museum, in a large historic home, makes an enjoyable visit. I’ve always especially liked the old Lima telephone switchboard, to which is tacked a note telling the operator, whenever someone reports a fire, to ring the siren and then call the fire chief.
There’s also a blue-and-yellow state historic marker, companioned with a shining globe that look like it came from outer space. This is the vault from the Bank of Lima, which just a hundred years ago in 1915 suffered Livingston County’s first bank robbery.
Lima has long been famed for three eating establishments, all of which were already doing a roaring trade well before we arrived in the early ‘nineties, and all of which seem set fair to go on after we’re gone. The Lima Family Restaurant is just what it sounds like, an enjoyable place with enjoyable meals. The American Hotel actually goes back to the early 1800s. The menu offers sixty kinds of soup, half a dozen or so of which are available on any given day.
George’s Family Restaurant was known in my day as the George E. France Drive-In. Despite the name, carhop service was gone already by then. But World War I veteran Mr. France presided over fountain and counter service, plus a prized set of booths. Those booths formed a sort of clubhouse for the retired gentlemen of the town, and woe betide anyone else, including my father once, who sat in them. I don’t know what the seating arrangements are nowadays.
Besides St. Rose, Lima is also home to a Presbyterian church founded by Reverend Daniel Averitt, the frontier preacher who left churches scattered all across western New York. Lima Baptist Church, whose congregation also goes back well before the Civil War, has a late twentieth-century facility. This church also operates the large and long-established Lima Christian School.
Education has been a key part of Lima almost as long as the village has been here. There’s a very nice small library (part of the Pioneer system). The public school district is Honeoye Falls-Lima, joining the “twin cities” across the county line.
And perched atop the hill like the Parthenon in Athens is a site that’s been dedicated to higher education for almost two centuries – home first to Genesee Wesleyan Seminary (one of the first co-ed colleges, founded 1832), then to Genesee College, then Genesee Junior College, and now to Elim Bible Institute (which in the 1930s had its home in Hornell).
Some fairly prominent people, both famous and notorious, have made their way through one or another of the hilltop institutions. Belva Lockwood was the first woman to run for president. J. Sheldon Fisher became a beloved regional historian. Randall Terry founded the highly-controversial Operation Rescue.
Kenneth B. Keating, who was born in Lima, became a United States Senator. Not much remembered now, the liberal Republican was a man of real consequence in his day, and a tiger for civil rights. In the midst of the Cuban Missile Crisis a highly frustrated John F. Kennedy grumbled that Keating, who had blown the whistle on the missiles, would be the next president of the United States. He wound up losing his senate seat to ROBERT Kennedy in 1964, but later served as an ambassador and a federal judge.
Genesee College became the basis for creation of Syracuse University. Apart from Elim, the other institutions are long gone, but new in town (though not on the hill) is the Genesee Community College Campus Center at Lima. Both schools grant associate’s degrees.
Lima is a significant crossroads town, where Routes 5 and 20 (a single highway) crosses Route 15A. My father-in-law and a cousin drove down 5 and 20 on their way from Vermont to Oklahoma, unsuccessfully hoping to find oil field jobs during the Great Depression. At every diner and gas station where they stopped on 5 and 20, a group of men huddled around the radio listening to news of Hitler’s invasion of Poland. It was the first week of the Second World War.
He didn’t even dream that he’d one day have a daughter, a son-in-law, and two grandsons living by that road that he’d traveled, alternating with hope and worry, over half a century before.

Welcome to the Windmill

I figure we missed the 2013 AND 2014 seasons at least… what with heart attacks, broken ankles, and more scattered around the family. But all three of us had the day off on July 3, and it was a beautiful day, so we went to The Windmill.
We always enjoy our trip, but the sunny sky, mild temperature, and light breeze made one of those perfect Finger Lakes summer days. What more could we ask for?
The Windmill bills itself as the first and friendliest farm and craft market in Upstate New York, and I’m willing to believe it. Parking’s free, admission’s free, and visitors find about 200 shops and vendors. That’s up from 89 on opening day twenty-eight years ago.
On their second day of operation (Saturday, July 4, 1987) traffic backed up for five miles in each direction.
That doesn’t happen much any more, but eight or ten thousand people drop by on a typical Saturday. From the start conservative Mennonites have been a key component of the operation; there’s a horse and buggy parking lot here, as well as lots for cars and motor coaches.
Right from the first discussion The Windmill was planned as an outlet for local producers and local craftspeople. So there’s all sorts of seasonal produce, depending on what’s coming in that week. There’s also honey; maple syrup; HICKORY syrup; cheese; pies; bread; wine; cider; beef… you name it.
PLUS… t-shirts, quilts, fabrics, kitchenware, woodwork, leathercraft, wool (from both sheep and alpaca)… you name it.
We weren’t having lunch that day, so we contented ourselves with soft pretzels and yellow mustard. Otherwise we might have indulged at one of several places, including Valhalla (Building 3), where Erik and I like the hot dogs, or Klute’s Kitchen (Building 2), which makes a good omelet with a nice choice of meats.
We started out at Building 3 (where Brittany’s Cove gets a gold star for carrying several of my historic photo books about the Finger Lakes… drop in and see her), then worked carefully through Building 4, because Joyce was planning on buying some produce. I checked out a couple of antique shops, where I was impressed with the number of Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, and Bobbsey Twins books. No copies, unfortunately, of Tom Corbett, Space Cadet.
After that we ambled over to Building 2 and stopped at Clute’s Maple to sample some of that hickory syrup. We used to make our own maple syrup, so we’re always interested in such things. It was good, and we liked it, but after considerable discussion we decided not to buy a jar just yet – it’s mostly used in cooking, and we couldn’t see that we’d make adequate use of it. We’re bearing it in mind, though, for a future visit.
Then we strolled across the way to Building 1, where more soft pretzels are available, in addition to a Gluten Free store and several shops for fudge and candy. There’s Faithful Heart Books, and The Quilt Room, in keeping with the Amish/Mennonite background.
At the north end of the Street of Shops the Dundee Steel Band was entertaining, and they’re always fun to listen to. We wandered up and down the boardwalk and into shops that caught our fancy, looking at heavy woolen socks (go back in the fall), railroading souvenirs (birthday gift for a family member), a wooden porch glider, children’s books, paintings and prints of the Finger Lakes, a huge selection of Corelle and CorningWare (in case you need to replace some pieces).
You never know what you’re going to turn up in the south end at the Street of Shops, which sometimes takes on sort of flea market feel. I once bought a VHS of “Things to Come” the 1930s cult-classic science fiction movie starring Ralph Richardson and Raymond Massey. So like I say, you never know.
On our way out we circled back to Building 4, where Joyce bought fresh potatoes, strawberries, and rhubarb (her rhubarb pies are great, worthy of my Aunt Eleanor, who was renowned for her pies and pickles). I’m still burning a candle for the hickory syrup.
Some odds-and-ends notes:
*The windmill is dog-friendly, and several vendors have outside spigots and bowls for water.
*People get thirsty too. Several vendors have honor-system coolers out front with cans of soda and bottles of water.
*The Windmill sponsors a classic car show every spring, and another every fall. The next one will be October 10. We’ve been, it’s fun.
*The Windmill is open every Saturday from the last Saturday of April through the second Saturday of December… plus Labor Day, Memorial Day, and Fourth of July (third of July this year).
*Admission is free, and operating hours are from 8:00 to 4:30.
*The web site is www.thewindmill.com.
*It’s in a very pleasant location, on the height between Keuka and Seneca Lakes… less than half an hour from Watkins Glen, Hammondsport, Penn Yan, or Bath.
*You should go. It’s a cool place to visit.

Eighty Years Ago — the Horrendous Flood of 1935

Once upon a time there was a flood that sprang up in the pre-dawn hours of an early summer’s morning, snatching away lives and houses while wrecking railroads, bridges, and highways. Many reading these words will say, “ah, yes, I remember it well.”
Maybe not. Because we’re speaking of the 1935 flood, which burst forth in the early-morning hours of July 8, eighty years ago this week.
While the 1972 flood arose from the remnants of Hurricane Agnes, the flood of 1935 sprang from several days of heavy rain – the earth and the watercourses just couldn’t hold any more.
As in 1972, the waters broke forth while most folks were sound asleep – a factor (in both cases) that contributed to tragedy.
When the 1972 flood struck the Corning-Painted Post area, many people at best got a few minutes of warning. But in 1935 a great many people had no telephone. Scarcely anyone outside the cities and villages had a radio, or even electricity. So for many people, there was no warning at all.
So… what happened?
The Genesee River flooded, inundating Wellsville, Mount Morris, and Rochester.
Crosby Creek, Bennett’s Creek, and the Canisteo River flooded, putting much of Hornell underwater. Hornell was an important rail center, and this flood ripped many of the lines to shreds. Farther downstream, Addison too was flooded.
The Conhocton River flowed into the grounds of the “Soldiers Home,” or Bath V.A. All of downtown Bath flooded, with people using canoes and rowboats out as far as the post office at William and Liberty Streets. A few steps up Liberty, the flood spared the municipal building by literally the width of the sidewalk. Davenport Library was in the flooded zone, leading to the loss of historic documents. Once again, railroad lines were wrecked. Upstream and downstream, Kanona and Savona flooded.
Most of Hammondsport village was inundated. Some streets, most of them still unpaved, were gouged into canyons. The churches, many homes, and the downtown business district were all trashed.
Torrents pouring out of the Glen tore through the Mallory Mill and its grounds, where Roualet Wine Company had stored casks of brandy. These were dumped all across the village as far down as the waterfront, leading to numerous local family legends as to who got the casks, how they got them, and what they did with them afterward. (Roualet went bankrupt.)
Cataracts rushing out through Watkins Glen tore away the state park gatehouse, and carried it down toward Seneca Lake. Ithaca flooded.
Farm livestock was carried away from Coopers Plains.
Painted Post and Corning flooded on both sides of the Chemung River, including Market Street, Corning Glass Works, and Ingersoll Rand. Rising water threatened the painstakingly-made 200-inch disc for Mount Palomar observatory, which was in the midst of a months-long cooling period. Rising water forced Glass Works men to move the generator that powered temperature-control equipment, meaning no control at all for several days. To everyone’s relief, the disc came through unscathed.
Elmira flooded. Owego flooded. Binghamton flooded. As in 1972, it would take a week or more just to sort out what had happened, and where everybody was.
Governor Lehman rushed to the area, as did Red Cross, Salvation Army, and National Guard. Hornell Armory and Hammondsport Presbyterian Church were two of many local centers where drinking water was trucked in. This was the midst of the Depression, but men with horse teams suddenly found themselves (and their animals) in high demand for cleanup and construction work.
This was a hydrologically-complex flood… actually a widespread set of simultaneous separate floods. One, for instance, occupied the north-flowing Genesee River and its tributaries. A separate flood flowed from the east-running Conhocton-Canisteo-Chemung System. Another flood followed the west-flowing Susquehanna and its tributaries. Three separate floods engulfed Hammondsport, Ithaca, and Watkins Glen.
New Deal programs set to work ameliorating the problem. C.C.C. (Civilian Conservation Corps) boys worked on hoe-and-shovel drainage projects, while Alfred and Almond dams were soon rising. The 1972 flood, believe it or not, would have been worse without this earlier work.
And, believe it or not, 1935 was arguably worse than 1972, with forty-four dead region-wide, as opposed to nineteen. Of course, the 1935 flood WAS essentially a regional event, while the total nationwide death toll from Hurricane Agnes was around 130, plus more in the West Indies. Since only 37 years separated the two disasters, a great many people in 1972 must have experienced an utterly horrifying déjà vu.