Archive » December 2018 » Columns

Reverend Iris Godfrey

You would think that 12 years of Catholic school would have grounded me with Bible knowledge, but you’d be wrong. What I remember from those years is a lot of ritual — attending Mass, going to confession, sitting with my class in church — but no real in-depth analysis and study of the actual Word.

As I’ve mentioned in these pages before, working toward a basic understanding of the Christian Bible is key to understanding Western literature, and by extension movies, TV, music, and art. So many themes used by all the great masters — Shakespeare, Michelangelo, Beethoven, and even Dan Brown (“The Da Vinci Code”) to use a more recent reference — are so fundamentally biblically based, it’s just unreal. When you start to understand this, you can more easily enjoy the material as it was meant to be enjoyed.

There are many ways to get to know the Bible better. Of course you can just read it by yourself but depending on which translation you use that can be quite difficult. Before you know it, you’re so lost in all the “begats,” the strange names, and the endless animal sacrifices that you wind up more frustrated than enlightened.

There are plenty of college courses and books available and, if you can find a church with a great pastor who treats a sermon like a real teaching moment (they are out there), lucky you. Another alternative is to attend a Bible study group, often right in someone’s home, which is what I did recently.

What happened was a friend invited my lovely wife and me to attend a Bible study session at her house. Sounded good, but the thing is everyone there except me knew a real lot about the Bible before we even started, so much so that they were way beyond the kind of high-level introduction I was looking for.

What they would do was focus on one paragraph — sometimes even just one sentence out of that one paragraph — for almost the entire 90 minutes. This worked for them because they wanted to deepen their already thorough understanding, but for a newcomer to Bible study like me it was just too detailed to really be helpful. It was like learning how to rebuild an engine before learning how to remove the engine from the vehicle, just not the right fit for me at that particular time.

Then I was able to find a Bible study group for absolute beginners being offered at a local church. This was much more attractive as a form of introductory Bible study to me, since I’d be with my own kind, so to speak.

You have to walk before you can run, right? So I signed up for this one. It was very interesting, and that’s putting it mildly, as you’ll soon find out.

The pastor who taught the course was very friendly, knowledgeable, and accommodating. No question went unanswered, and I had lots of them, believe me. He really went out of his way to make sure everyone felt accepted and welcome.

Even though he’s probably taught this material many, many times over the years, we got the feeling that he really wanted us to learn and grow from it. When you can find a teacher like that in any field, consider yourself lucky. Truly, an excited and motivated teacher is one of the best parts of society.

We had workbooks with assignments due for the weekly lessons, and they provided huge illustrated study Bibles as well. Everyone showed up with their homework done each week.

By and by, the mysteries of the Bible became clearer, with the extended reading and discussion of the weekly themes helping greatly. All was going swimmingly until we got to the part where it said that women could never teach men.

“Hold up,” as they say in the ’hood.

It turns out there is one word that is used only once in the entire Bible (the verb “authenteo,” literally “have authority over”) and, depending on which dialect of Greek you use to translate it, you can interpret it as men should never be taught by women in church. They can do other things — sing, organize, prepare meals, etc. — but not teach men. Upon hearing this I had the following dialogue with the pastor:

“You mean to tell me if a woman attends seminary, spending thousands of dollars and working countless hours to obtain a Doctor of Divinity degree, and writes books on Christianity while becoming an acknowledged scholar of the Bible, she’s still not allowed to teach men?”

“That’s correct.”

“OK, let’s say Mother Teresa herself, as God-like and worthy of a woman who has ever lived, wanted to teach men, you mean to tell me she couldn’t teach either?”

“Yes, and if she really knew the Bible, she wouldn’t even want to.”

Well, let’s just say that, after that exchange, I kind of tuned out for the rest of the lessons. Don’t get me wrong, I showed up each week, did all my homework, and participated freely.

It’s just that the whole thing about women not being able to teach men made it lose its luster for me. I mean, we’re living in the time of the “#MeToo” movement, with powerful men being brought down almost every day for their horrible behavior toward women.

Also I have two daughters whom I love and I know they can do anything they set their minds to. Women rock! So what if, in some translations of the Bible, you can infer that the women of that time couldn’t teach the men of that time, for whatever reason? I don’t get how that is relevant today.

I’m married to a church organist and I’ve been with her to many different churches over the decades we’ve been together. During that time, I’ve heard many female pastors. Most have have been good. Some have been great.

One in particular is phenomenal. She’s had her own radio and TV shows and a YouTube channel among other things (this would be Rev. Iris Godfrey at psalm19.org). I relish the time I get to hear her speak, and I only wish I lived closer to her. She’s that good. A good teacher is a good teacher, period. Gender does not come into it at all.

It’s kind of like the Constitutional originalists with the Second Amendment and the right to bear arms. There is no way the founding fathers could ever have envisioned every Tom, Dick, and Harry being able to buy military-grade assault weapons with thousands of rounds of ammunition for private use wherever and whenever they choose.

Similarly, how could Jesus Christ himself have a problem with a woman sharing his message of universal love, forgiveness, and salvation? I know in my heart he would embrace it wholeheartedly.

“Samson and Delilah,” “Jonah and the Whale,” “David and Goliath,” “Wise King Solomon,” and so many more rich stories with timeless themes about good versus evil and epic quests of redemption that appear in popular culture come straight from the Bible. The more you look, the more you find. It’s just so eye-opening to realize where so many of the great writers, poets, artists, and composers got their inspiration from.

If you can find a good Bible teacher, even if it’s a woman — and especially if it’s a dynamic, intelligent, and perceptive woman like Rev. Godfrey — taking the time to learn about the Bible, without doubt a foundational pillar of Western society, can be a very fulfilling and rewarding experience.

Location:

Ellen Howie is recognized by Congressman Paul Tonko as she and her husband, Dick, were honored for their service to Community Caregivers — they have volunteered since 1995 — and for their 60th wedding anniversary. Dick Howie was ill the evening of the gala and couldn’t attend.

Community Caregivers, a not-for-profit organization dedicated to enabling individuals of all ages to maintain their independence, dignity, and quality of life within their homes and communities, has announced its 24th annual gala raised $68,000.

Held Nov. 17 at Albany Country Club in Voorheesville, the gala was attended by more than 165 people.

The evening featured silent and live auctions and a wine-and-dine pull. Greg Floyd, news anchor at CBS 6 Albany, served as this year’s master of ceremonies. The board of directors wishes to thank gala sponsors Adirondack Environmental Services, Albany Med, Ayco Charitable Foundation, Bank of America, MVP Health Care, Dr. Judith Mysliborski, New York Business Development Corporation, and United Group of Companies.

At the gala, Congressman Paul Tonko, a Democrat representing the Capital Region, presented a proclamation to Community Caregivers Advisory Board member Ellen Howie. She and her husband, Dick, have volunteered with the organization since 1995. The couple also recently celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary.

During the event, the board presented the Joseph A. Bosco Community Service award to the Capital Financial Planning Charitable Foundation. The Foundation was started in 2009 by Todd Slingerland, president and chief financial officer of Capital Financial Planning, a registered advisory investment firm located in Guilderland.

The foundation has helped to bolster the many efforts of not-for-profit organizations, including those dedicated to fighting disease and hunger, enhancing education and youth development, supporting veterans and the elderly, and working to address problems such as domestic violence and homelessness.

Each year, the foundation raises funds through its golf outing and selects a primary beneficiary to receive donations and grants. In 2018, the foundation selected Community Caregivers.

Editor’s note: Jayson White is a Community Caregivers board member and chairs its public relations committee.

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— Photo from John R. Williams

A sing-along for The Old Men of the Mountain: Roger Shafer plays guitar and Gerry Irwin plays the bass as their friends breakfast at Mrs. K’s.

Christmas carols are in the air, and many of the Old Men of the Mountain start singing along when they hear them. The breakfast Tuesday morning again was when the Hilltown roads were like skating rinks. Most of the OFs came to the Mrs. K’s on the flats; a few came over Cotton Hill — that was a mistake.

However, no matter the conditions of the roads, Mrs. K’s was full of OMOTM, and Patty had quite a spread laid out for the OFs as they arrived for their 2018 Christmas party.

The conversations Tuesday morning were quite mixed. Much was material covered many times; some the conversations were on family traditions at Christmas time.

Most OFs related that, when the OFs were young, the most common gift was clothes and a present. That was it — a present, not a whole store full.

One OF said that he would get more than one present but it was from each of the relatives. Sometimes the OF thought the aunt or uncle would contact the family to see what the OF needed in the line of clothes. The OFs said when they were kids they were more than happy to receive anything.

During World War II, there was not much to buy even though at that time most parents had money, a least those who were not on the farm. One OF said that kids get so much today, it is what keeps the economy going.

Another OF added that today even kids 8 or 9 years old want gifts that cost hundreds of dollars. It is a different time.

An OF chimed in that he thought kids today are not kids; they are young adults. The OFs said, think back to when we were kids. We were kids! We had fun doing kid things.

Today they start teaching kids math, and reading skills when they are only 2 years old. Kids today are forced to be adults before they are ready to be adults; the OF stated that as a fact and not his opinion.

While the OFs were talking about Christmas and Christmas giving, we found out that one OF has 18 grandkids, and four great-grandkids, and another one has 19 grandkids and two great-grandkids. Between those two OFs, there are 86 feet trotting this planet, and that is from only two of us.

What does Christmas mean to those guys? The other OFs bet Christmas was a ball at their homes when the majority of them were growing up. The OFs couldn’t imagine the family tree on either family when considering all the in-laws required in generating 43 grandkids. These two OFs should get together and write a book, along with their wives of course, on parenting. (By the way, the scribe adds neither one is Catholic.)

The Old Men make their own music

The diversity of the Old Men of the Mountain has been brought up many times but even at our own party, we bring our own entertainment. We had two OMOTM up playing Christmas-type songs, and not-so-Christmas-type songs.

The OFs could be heard joining in with the more familiar songs. The OFs even had one with musical talents at the table taking in festivities. If you follow the names along with the police you will find the names of Roger Shafer, and Gerry Irwin — Roger on the guitar and Gerry on the bass.

Holiday hiatus

For the first time in 30-some years, the Old Men of the Mountain are not going to go to breakfast on Tuesday. Christmas Day falls on a Tuesday this year, and so does New Year’s Day so the OFs decided not to gather on those days. This means there will be a two-week hiatus for the column.

The OMOTM have never done this. In the years 1984, 1990, 2001, 2007, and 2012, the OMOTM met on Monday. This year, by not meeting at all, it means there will be an 11-year gap until this happens again in 2029.

At that time will come the major decision again: Do we meet on a Monday or skip it? But this year it means, by the time the group gets together again, it will be Jan. 8 and there will be many stories to tell because, in all the time that has gone by, even if it is only two weeks since getting together, interesting events are bound to happen to the OMOTM.

Those OFs who in a way slid their way to the party at Mrs. K’s Restaurant in Middleburgh for the last gathering of year, were: Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Wally Guest, John Rossmann, Roger Shafer, Harold Guest, Roger Chapman, Bill Lichliter, Otis Lawyer, Richard Frank, Chuck Aelesio, Mark Traver, Glenn Patterson, Joe Rack, Kenny Parks, Jim Heiser, Rev. Jay Francis, Mace Porter, Lou Schenck, Jack Norray, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Wayne Gaul, Herb Bahrmann, Gerry Irwin, Gerry Chartier, Mike Willsey, Jim Rissacher, John Gab, Marty Herzog, Elwood Vanderbilt, Harold Grippen, Amy Willsey, and me.

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For once, we had a beautiful ride to the Middleburgh Diner in Middleburgh on Tuesday Dec. 11. The sun was not yet up, the sky was dark and clear, and there was one bright star or planet in the heavens that was very visible.  The weather was much different than most of the recent mornings the Old Men of the Mountain have been used to driving in on these early morning restaurant trips.

The OFs started a conversation that was somewhat different on Tuesday morning. This conversation was on recyclables.

Generally the first chatter of the group is quite redundant (like most meetings) and with the OFs it is quite a comedy show until someone brings up an unusual topic. This particular OF recollected how (just a few years back) we had to separate everything going to the transfer station.

Glass had to be separated by color, green with green, brown with brown, etc., and no caps were to be on bottles. The metal and aluminum were to be separated. No aluminum pie plates were to go in the trash. Power cords were to be removed from appliances.

It was a real chore at home to do all this, but we did. We even had a separate bucket or bin at home to hold the different recyclables.

This has changed now. We can’t get anybody to buy the recyclables from the towns. What has happened? It seemed like a good idea at the time. Some OFs think it is still a good idea and we should still use items made from recycled paper, glass, aluminum, metal, and plastic.

One OF said, “Like many products and even problems we rarely go back to the source. We don’t need plastic bags — paper bags are fine and come from a renewable material source, the tree.”

“However,” another OF said, “the current way I discard my trash is to chuck the bottles with tin, separate the plastic, paper, and cardboard and that is what I’ll do.”

Rambunctious robo-vacuum

Somehow the OFs continued on with the cleaning theme.  It wasn’t exactly like the garbage theme but it was about vacuuming. This time. the subject was the new high tech robo-vacuums.

One of the OFs was telling how the one his kids have works. The OF said, “He (son) likes it; it is a lot of fun to watch.”

The OFs asked him, “How much can it vacuum? They look rather small.”

Another OF asked, “Don’t they have to keep dumping it out all the time?”

The OF said he didn’t know about this because he never asked.

The OF told of an experience his kids had with this robo vacuum. “One of the kids kept hearing this thump, then another thump.” The OF said the kids told him there was no rhythm to the thumps.

“Sometimes there would be four or five minutes between the thumps, and sometimes it was thump, thump, and thump in quick succession,” he said. “The kids finally tracked it down to one of the bathrooms.”

The vacuum had apparently hit the bathroom door and the door closed. The thump was the vacuum trying to get out of the bathroom, finish the vacuuming, and get to the docking station. The OFs got quite a chuckle out of that little story.

To this scribe, unfortunately, it indicates the scary part of AI (artificial intelligence). This little vacuum cleaner was given a job to do and that was to complete its mission of vacuuming, and returning to the docking station to revitalize itself.

That was its job; AI will do anything to complete its assigned task and revitalize itself.  The next robo-whatever may not be assigned to just do vacuuming, mowing the lawn, or plowing the driveway, but it could be something much more sinister, and the AI will complete the task and return to its revitalizing station.

Climate change?

The OMOTM talked about all the nasty weather this week that brought havoc to the Carolinas and Virginia in the form of snow. The pictures were just like here when we have a nasty storm only they are not ready for it.

One OF who has relatives in Virginia said they missed it. There again it is like some of those storms that nail us. Where these storms hit, they hit!

Sometimes the area is not too wide, and at other times, as one OF said, “Our storms cover from Canada to Pennsylvania and the whole East Coast.” Another OF has relatives in the Carolinas and they reported, “This storm was just like the ones we used to have when we lived in Plattsburgh.”

Yet another OF said, “Maybe there is something to this climate change or global warming.” That brought the swift answer that the world has been through all this before but there were fewer people around for the storms to directly impact them.

Now the population has increased and people get really disturbed because they plopped their fancy homes directly in disaster areas and some have encountered tragic situations as a result.

One OF said, “That is kind of tough talk, but I have to agree it’s true.”

Another OF thought that even applies to some of the OFs, which took the OFs back to “when we were young.”  (Oh dear, here we go again to “when I was your age,” but this is always fun).

“You can’t stop progress”

This time, the OFs talked about how far it was from farm to farm, and how even going to town for supplies took planning. One OF said that he purchased a home on a dirt road; the home was not quite finished. Just beyond his place, the road was shut down during the winter months because it was too dangerous to drive.

This home was purchased so the OF would have privacy and be alone, but not hiding. The OF said he likes and enjoys people but doesn’t want them living on top of him. The OF said now there are 40 houses around him.

“You can’t stop progress — just like the robo-machines that do the work so we don’t have to.” an OF said.

The OFs who made it to the Middleburgh Diner in Middleburgh and want to stop the world so they can get off, were: Roger Chapman, George Washburn, Miner Stevens, Robie Osterman, Bill Lichliter, John Rossmann, Wally Guest, Harold Guest, Kenny Parks, Rev. Jay Francis, Gerry Irwin, Mace Porter, Lou Schenck, Jack Norray, Elwood Vanderbilt, Allen DeFazzo, Mike Willsey, Warren Willsey, Harold Grippen, and me.

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Reverend Iris Godfrey

You would think that 12 years of Catholic school would have grounded me with Bible knowledge, but you’d be wrong. What I remember from those years is a lot of ritual — attending Mass, going to confession, sitting with my class in church — but no real in-depth analysis and study of the actual Word.

As I’ve mentioned in these pages before, working toward a basic understanding of the Christian Bible is key to understanding Western literature, and by extension movies, TV, music, and art. So many themes used by all the great masters — Shakespeare, Michelangelo, Beethoven, and even Dan Brown (“The Da Vinci Code”) to use a more recent reference — are so fundamentally biblically based, it’s just unreal. When you start to understand this, you can more easily enjoy the material as it was meant to be enjoyed.

There are many ways to get to know the Bible better. Of course you can just read it by yourself but depending on which translation you use that can be quite difficult. Before you know it, you’re so lost in all the “begats,” the strange names, and the endless animal sacrifices that you wind up more frustrated than enlightened.

There are plenty of college courses and books available and, if you can find a church with a great pastor who treats a sermon like a real teaching moment (they are out there), lucky you. Another alternative is to attend a Bible study group, often right in someone’s home, which is what I did recently.

What happened was a friend invited my lovely wife and me to attend a Bible study session at her house. Sounded good, but the thing is everyone there except me knew a real lot about the Bible before we even started, so much so that they were way beyond the kind of high-level introduction I was looking for.

What they would do was focus on one paragraph — sometimes even just one sentence out of that one paragraph — for almost the entire 90 minutes. This worked for them because they wanted to deepen their already thorough understanding, but for a newcomer to Bible study like me it was just too detailed to really be helpful. It was like learning how to rebuild an engine before learning how to remove the engine from the vehicle, just not the right fit for me at that particular time.

Then I was able to find a Bible study group for absolute beginners being offered at a local church. This was much more attractive as a form of introductory Bible study to me, since I’d be with my own kind, so to speak.

You have to walk before you can run, right? So I signed up for this one. It was very interesting, and that’s putting it mildly, as you’ll soon find out.

The pastor who taught the course was very friendly, knowledgeable, and accommodating. No question went unanswered, and I had lots of them, believe me. He really went out of his way to make sure everyone felt accepted and welcome.

Even though he’s probably taught this material many, many times over the years, we got the feeling that he really wanted us to learn and grow from it. When you can find a teacher like that in any field, consider yourself lucky. Truly, an excited and motivated teacher is one of the best parts of society.

We had workbooks with assignments due for the weekly lessons, and they provided huge illustrated study Bibles as well. Everyone showed up with their homework done each week.

By and by, the mysteries of the Bible became clearer, with the extended reading and discussion of the weekly themes helping greatly. All was going swimmingly until we got to the part where it said that women could never teach men.

“Hold up,” as they say in the ’hood.

It turns out there is one word that is used only once in the entire Bible (the verb “authenteo,” literally “have authority over”) and, depending on which dialect of Greek you use to translate it, you can interpret it as men should never be taught by women in church. They can do other things — sing, organize, prepare meals, etc. — but not teach men. Upon hearing this I had the following dialogue with the pastor:

“You mean to tell me if a woman attends seminary, spending thousands of dollars and working countless hours to obtain a Doctor of Divinity degree, and writes books on Christianity while becoming an acknowledged scholar of the Bible, she’s still not allowed to teach men?”

“That’s correct.”

“OK, let’s say Mother Teresa herself, as God-like and worthy of a woman who has ever lived, wanted to teach men, you mean to tell me she couldn’t teach either?”

“Yes, and if she really knew the Bible, she wouldn’t even want to.”

Well, let’s just say that, after that exchange, I kind of tuned out for the rest of the lessons. Don’t get me wrong, I showed up each week, did all my homework, and participated freely.

It’s just that the whole thing about women not being able to teach men made it lose its luster for me. I mean, we’re living in the time of the “#MeToo” movement, with powerful men being brought down almost every day for their horrible behavior toward women.

Also I have two daughters whom I love and I know they can do anything they set their minds to. Women rock! So what if, in some translations of the Bible, you can infer that the women of that time couldn’t teach the men of that time, for whatever reason? I don’t get how that is relevant today.

I’m married to a church organist and I’ve been with her to many different churches over the decades we’ve been together. During that time, I’ve heard many female pastors. Most have have been good. Some have been great.

One in particular is phenomenal. She’s had her own radio and TV shows and a YouTube channel among other things (this would be Rev. Iris Godfrey at psalm19.org). I relish the time I get to hear her speak, and I only wish I lived closer to her. She’s that good. A good teacher is a good teacher, period. Gender does not come into it at all.

It’s kind of like the Constitutional originalists with the Second Amendment and the right to bear arms. There is no way the founding fathers could ever have envisioned every Tom, Dick, and Harry being able to buy military-grade assault weapons with thousands of rounds of ammunition for private use wherever and whenever they choose.

Similarly, how could Jesus Christ himself have a problem with a woman sharing his message of universal love, forgiveness, and salvation? I know in my heart he would embrace it wholeheartedly.

“Samson and Delilah,” “Jonah and the Whale,” “David and Goliath,” “Wise King Solomon,” and so many more rich stories with timeless themes about good versus evil and epic quests of redemption that appear in popular culture come straight from the Bible. The more you look, the more you find. It’s just so eye-opening to realize where so many of the great writers, poets, artists, and composers got their inspiration from.

If you can find a good Bible teacher, even if it’s a woman — and especially if it’s a dynamic, intelligent, and perceptive woman like Rev. Godfrey — taking the time to learn about the Bible, without doubt a foundational pillar of Western society, can be a very fulfilling and rewarding experience.

Location:

The Old Men of the Mountain met on Tuesday, Dec. 4, at Pop’s Place in Preston Hollow. The OMOTM had a first-hand look at the damage done to Pop’s Place by the idiots that used the restaurant for target practice.

This incident was of course the major topic of conversation as all the OFs arrived in the morning. None of the OFs could understand why anyone would do something like this. They must have been high on alcohol or drugs, and to think these people that do such stupid things can legally carry guns. That is scary. One OF mentioned it is the occasional nut case that makes it hard for the rest of us that enjoy hunting, or sport shooting.

One OF said, “A lot of people do not think shooting is a sport. Boy, would I like to challenge them to a taste of sport shooting. It is the same as golf except in golf you are trying to hit a little white ball in a cup.  The goal in sport shooting is to send a bullet through a bullseye, or hit a flying object with shot or a slug instead of a bat.”

Further research shows that the clay pigeon is traveling around 60 miles per hour, a shotgun slug is traveling about 1,100 miles per hour, and birdshot travels about 800 miles per hour. Everything starts in an instant so try making the projectile and the clay pigeon meet.

The sport is no different than any other sport; it requires skill, concentration, effort, and practice. The OMOTM did not have any turkey which they personally shot.

9/11 changed travel

With Thanksgiving behind us and the “holidays” coming up, the OF talked about families getting together and traveling to get there, or here, whichever the case may be, by air. The OFs compared pre-9/11 to post-9/11 travel and how much flying has changed.

One OF said it used to fun to plan and go to the airport and just breeze through and sometimes running to catch a plane. Now it is really, really different, and it isn’t fun anymore. Another OF said he feels like he is some sort of criminal, and would much rather drive than fly.

Still another OF said that he was on a business trip to Michigan years ago when metal detectors were first introduced at airports. The OF said he had on his safety shoes. Safety shoes had a metal cup over the toes that would protect a worker’s feet from industrial accidents.

At this time, it was not necessary to remove your shoes when you were flying somewhere. To compound the issue, the OF and his boss were making a connection at O’Hare in Chicago and were late for the connection.

The metal detector kept dinging, and the OF kept going through.  Finally the guard (at that time because there was no TSA) said, “To H--- with it, go on.”  Ah, it was a different time.

A Kodak moment

As we have mentioned the OMOTM is loaded with OM. Tuesday morning, the oldest OMOTM (in his nineties) showed up at the door of Pop’s Place and was struggling with the door.

In the restaurant already seated was the second oldest OMOTM and he was facing the door and saw the oldest one struggle to get in with his cane, so the second oldest got up, went and helped the oldest through the door. A Kodak moment but it happened in just a few seconds; no time to retrieve the camera and take a shot.

Stents galore

There was a discussion that is frequent among the OFs and that is on medicine and the newer medical procedures. The OF who made this report was a recipient of this new technology.

The OF has had leg problems for a while and the pain in one leg was becoming very bad. The doctors did some tests and found that the blood was not flowing through the leg. They did some more tests and located where the blood was being stopped.

They then inserted a stent into where the stricture was and the OF said he watched the whole thing. The OF claimed he was in and out the same day, and the leg is fine — no pain.

The OFs seemed to agree the doctors are sticking these stents in all over the place. One OF said, “The doctors can stick one in my brain if it would make me any smarter.”

To which another OF said, “To make you any smarter they would have to stick it in your butt.”

OFs can run but can’t hide

One of the OFs who is in frequent contract with an OF who winters in the South reported that this OF woke up one morning and had a six- or seven-foot alligator on his back porch. Then another OF mentioned that recently in the news there was a report on how one guy (with help) got away from an alligator but not before the alligator grabbed him by the leg.

So another OF said, “Is that any different than finding a bear on your back porch up here, or finding one prowling around the backyard?

To this OF it is the same situation only a different critter. The OF said he wouldn’t want to mess with either one of them.

Take snakes. We have our copperheads, and rattlers; they have their coral and boas, and a few others.  The OF said again, let those suckers be — whether here or there.

The Old Men of the Mountain have the following as part of their philosophy — they can run but can’t hide. There is something out there that’ll getcha no matter where you are — animal, bug, or the weather.

The OMOTM who espouse this philosophy and were at Pop’s Place in Preston Hollow were: Roger Chapman, Wally Guest, Bill Lichliter, George Washburn, John Rossmann, Robie Osterman, Harold Guest, Roger Shafer, Chuck Aelesio, Richard Frank, Glenn Patterson, Mark Traver, Joe Rack, Otis Lawyer, Gerry Irwin, Lou Schenck, Mace Porter, Mike Willsey, Warren Willsey, Elwood Vanderbilt, Harold Grippen, and me.

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— From the United States Library of Congress

In Washington, once Rufus Wheeler Peckham took his position on the court, he neither mingled socially nor gave any public speeches. After 1899 he was known to be grieving the loss of first his older son and a few years later his younger son, too.

— From the National Archives and Records Administration.

President Grover Cleveland’s Dec. 3, 1895 nomination of Rufus Peckham to serve on the United States Supreme Court.

— Photo from Postdlf

Rufus Wheeler Peckham, who lived from 1838 to 1909, is buried in Albany Rural Cemetery in Menands. There is also in that plot a cenotaph or marker for Peckham's father, New York State Court of Appeals Judge Rufus Wheeler Peckham, and his stepmother who were lost in the sinking of the Atlantic steamer Ville du  Havre in 1873. The elder Peckham was also a prominent Albany lawyer.

The Enterprise — Melissa Hale-Spencer

Coolmore, Rufus Peckham’s summer home, where he died in 1909, was bought by Bernard Cobb, a utilities magnate, who named it Woodlands. After Cobb died in 1957, his daughters donated the property to the Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary who ran the Cobb Memorial School there for children with disabilities, adding modern buildings and a playground to the campus. The 65.3-acre property (most of it in Guilderland with about 13 acres in Knox) has a full-market value of $2.7 million, according to the Albany County assessment rolls. Although the Cobb Memorial School is now closed, “The property is not for sale. The sisters use it for retreats and vacations,” said Marcia Hansen, reached at the sisters’ Haswell Road location in Watervliet. “They’re there all the time.”

Who was Rufus Wheeler Peckham?

The short answer is: A United States Supreme Court associate justice.

He was appointed in 1895 by Democratic President Grover Cleveland; his confirmation followed six days later by a voice vote of the Republican majority Senate — the last time for this political occurrence.

Rufus W. Peckham is making an appearance in The Enterprise because he happened to be an Albany native, a member of the city’s wealthy, prominent elite, who was also a longtime resident of Altamont’s summer colony.

Born in 1838 to a father who was a very successful, well known attorney and judge, Rufus Peckham received a classical education at Albany Academy, then traveled to Philadelphia for additional studies. After a lengthy tour of Europe accompanied by his brother, he returned to Albany where he resumed his studies. Admitted to the bar in 1859, he joined his father’s law firm, beginning a very successful legal trajectory that ended at the summit of an attorney’s career.

His private clients, being chiefly banks, insurance companies, and corporations such as the Albany and Susquehanna Railroad, earned him a reputation for being an effective attorney who almost always won his cases. He was reputed to be on personal terms with such moguls as J. Pierpont Morgan, Cornelius Vanderbilt, and John D.  Rockefeller. In later years, as he served on the New York State Court of Appeals, the state’s highest court, and then on the U.S. Supreme Court, he definitely seemed to favor business interests.

Within 10 years of joining his father’s firm, the young lawyer became district attorney for the city and county of Albany. In addition, he served as special assistant to the New York State Attorney General from 1869 to 1872. During these years, he dealt with a series of criminal cases where his success at trial proved to be equal to his competency at corporate law.

In spite of his busy legal commitments, Peckham was a staunch Democrat, becoming acquainted with prominent politicians, and was especially friendly with Governor Grover Cleveland in the years before his election to the presidency. Peckham served as a delegate in both the 1876 and 1880 Democratic conventions.

In 1883, he was elected to the New York State Supreme Court, the lowest court in the state’s three-tiered system. Three years later, he became a judge of the Court of Appeals where he remained until his 1895 appointment to the United States Supreme Court. At that time, Peckham is supposed to have exclaimed, “If I have got to be put away on the shelf, I supposed I might as well be on the top shelf.”

Coolmore

Personally, Peckham was described by his contemporaries as “vigorous, of forceful character, frank, and outspoken.” Physically, he was described as having a “cameo face and piercing eyes,” while in company he was considered “an agreeable, entertaining conversationalist.”

Married in 1866 to a New York City woman, Peckham became the father of two sons, Rufus Jr. and Henry, always called Harry. The family home was on Albany’s lower State Street adjacent to St. Peter’s Episcopal Church.

In 1884, when his sons were in their teens, Peckham’s decision to acquire a large tract of land brought the family to the escarpment above Knowersville. After the construction of the Peckhams’ large summer home, sometimes referred to as a “villa” in The Enterprise, the name “Coolmore” was given to the estate.

The spectacular outlook from the property, described by Fletcher Battershall, a friend of Peckham’s sons who had been a frequent guest at Coolmore, was an “unbroken view of the valley of the Hudson stretching to the foothills of the Berkshires,” while “behind stretches the rocky Helderberg tableland, rolling and diversified by woods, farms, and isolated hamlets.”

It was “an ideal place for growing boys and their pleasures,” and the Peckham sons were welcome to entertain their young friends as regular visitors at the estate. Summer neighbors included other wealthy and well-connected Albanians James D. Wesson, Mrs. William (Lucie) Cassidy, and Charles L. Pruyn who also had children.

In those early years, a steady stream of guests were entertained at Coolmore, stirring the recollection of the Peckham sons’ friend who reminisced, “There were good times on the hills of Altamont.”

In one instance, Harry and Edward Cassidy imported Belgian hares, let them go in the surrounding woods and fields, inviting their young adult friends to pursue the hares with a pack of beagles. At other times, they hunted raccoons by moonlight. Much tennis was played and exploration of the nearby countryside was another pastime.

The summer colony’s attractions not only included lovely scenery, healthy air, and pure water, but its location was easily accessible, only an hour away from Albany on the frequently scheduled D&H locals. Commuting was feasible for those with professional or social commitments in town. D&H Conductor Joseph Zimmerman, obviously highly thought of by regular riders, was gifted with “a beautiful conductor’s lantern with his name neatly inscribed.” Among the contributors was Judge Peckham.

Judge Peckham apparently purchased his tract of land not solely as the site of a summer home, but also for a farm to be supervised by a local farmer, particularly to provide a sizable hay crop. Having had a strictly urban background, Judge Peckham while inspecting his farm during haying season one day was puzzled by the piles of grass all over his fields. It had to be explained to him that it wasn’t refuse littering his land, but freshly cut hay drying before being taken to the barn.

Peckham, like the other wealthy summer colony residents, provided employment for local men on his property and patronized nearby businesses, earning the good will of Knowersville’s (as Altamont was called until incorporated in 1890) residents and certainly helped to boost the village’s economy.

Men were hired for farm work and as farm managers and, in addition, an estate supervisor was employed. The names of various men who worked for the Peckhams were often mentioned in the Enterprise’s village column.

Note was also made that lumber for an 1895 expansion of the Peckhams’ cottage was being supplied locally and at least one wagon was purchased in the village. And at the end, the services of the Altamont doctor and undertaker were provided.

What’s in a name?

A few years after the Peckham family became regular summer residents, there was difficulty with mail delivery, due to the name Knowersville being frequently confused with a village in the western part of the state having a similar name, leading to a movement to rename the community.

A piece appeared in The Enterprise asking, “Shall it Be Peckham?” offering the suggestion that the village should be designated “Peckham” in Rufus’s honor. After all, the writer argued, he was a Court of Appeals judge; “Peckham” was easier to write than “Knowersville”; and besides, the judge might “honor himself and the village in some substantial manner.” It ended with, “By all means, let it be called Peckham.”

A protesting, upset citizen responded a week later, representing a faction not in agreement with the thought of living in Peckham, New York. Very shortly, the discussion became a moot point because Lucie Cassidy had used her influence with President Cleveland to rename the village Altamont.

Upon becoming a Supreme Court justice, Peckham sold his Albany home, moving to Washington, but he continued to summer each year at Coolmore where he died in 1909.

Laissez-faire decisions

As an associate justice on the Supreme Court, he was best known for writing the majority opinion Lochner vs. New York State in 1905 when the court ruled, 5 to 4, that the New York Bakeshop Act, a law prohibiting bakers from working more than a 10-hour day, six days per week, was unconstitutional.

Peckham’s opinion put forth the argument, “The freedom of master and employees to contract with each other … cannot be prohibited or interfered without violating the 14th Amendment.” This case has been mentioned unfavorably in mainstream newspaper and magazine articles about the Supreme Court in recent years and on occasion Peckham’s name is also mentioned.

Peckham also voted with the majority in the case of Plessy vs. Ferguson in 1896, upholding the constitutionality of southern Jim Crow laws.

Justice Peckham, who considered himself a strict constitutionalist, is today remembered by legal scholars and students of the Constitution as a “nonentity, “a pygmy of the Court,” his reasoning described as “unfathomable,” the Lochner case “notorious.” His approval of Jim Crow laws is held against him. Peckhams’s extremely conservative thinking does not resonate with modern sensibilities.

The demise of High Point Farm

When the two Peckham sons were grown, each became a lawyer. Harry had developed a deep love of the land and a genuine interest in agriculture. Even though he was active in his father’s Albany law firm, he purchased a farm on the same ridge as Coolmore to the east of his father’s property which he named “High Point Farm.”

Registered stock including bulls, cows, pigs, geese, duck, and turkeys — some imported — found a home at this farm. Running a serious agricultural operation, Harry commuted out of Albany to work on his beloved High Point Farm whenever he had the opportunity and employed several hired farm workers.

Ads appeared in The Enterprise during 1899 and 1900 with the offer that for a dollar local farmers could have their cows serviced by one of his pedigreed bulls. Pigs and poultry were also for sale.

Unfortunately, a disastrous fire broke out in June 1900 when the hay barn, stables, wagon and tool house, pig pen and other buildings, equipment and much stock were all destroyed. Harry did not rebuild because by this time his health had begun to fail.

Sadly, Harry seemed to have developed consumption, now known as tuberculosis, a disease that in those days was fatal to rich as well as poor. He moved to Saranac Lake, then a center for treatment, later relocating to the west in a desperate attempt to revive his health. Harry died in 1907 in California. His brokenhearted parents had already buried Rufus Jr., also a promising young lawyer who had died at Coolmore after a lengthy illness in 1899.

Mourned by the president

As usual, Justice Peckham returned to Coolmore for the summer of 1909. Despite his health being a cause for concern, he was planning to return to Washington in the fall. However, his heart failed and he died at the summer home he had visited for a quarter of a century. At his death, tributes and messages of sympathy poured in.

Justice John Marshall Harlan referred to him as “one of the ablest jurists who ever sat on the American bench.” President William Howard Taft and Governor Charles Evans Hughes (who the next year became an associate justice himself and later the chief justice of the Supreme Court) each sent his widow their condolences.

At his impressive funeral at Albany’s St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, the eight surviving Supreme Court justices were in attendance. Rufus Wheeler Peckham was interred in the family plot at Albany Rural Cemetery.

Locally, Peckham has been almost entirely forgotten, though he was once the most important of the area’s summer residents. The Peckhams must have loved their summer home, which remained in the family from 1884 until Justice Peckham’s death there in 1909.

In the early 1920s, the estate came into the possession of the Cobb family who renamed the property “Woodlands.” In 1958, after Bernard Cobb’s death, his daughters donated the 32-room house and 40-acre tract of land to the Albany Catholic Diocese.

Location:

My goodness, this is getting ridiculous! This past Tuesday morning, Nov. 27, the Old Men of the Mountain had to drive through inches of wet snow, and very slippery roads to get to the Home Front Café in Altamont.

For those going over the Hill, and those who live on the Hill, it was not pleasant. The OFs know the sun is up there but the OFs haven’t seen it in so long that, when it does show up, the OFs’ old eyes won’t be able to take it.

The OFs discussed how many new homes pop up. The comment is that the OFs will drive down the road one day, and 10 days later the OF is driving down the same road and there is a brand-new home, with a car in the garage and lights on.

One OF said these are not the typical box houses we used to see go up quickly but these are good-sized and with character. Technology is even helping the ready-made home industry build a better product, faster.

This scribe, as usual, checked some of these homes out on the net and found that there are a lot out there and they are really nice homes. What this scribe checked were all to code, and nice upgrades. With some, a lot of decisions are left to the owners/builders if they want special items in the kitchen, and garage, stuff like that.

Hoarding or keepsake saving?

Some of the OFs began to think they have developed into hoarders as they get older because they seem to have accrued many items that the OFs don’t know why they have them, where they came from, and now they have no use for them.

One OF mentioned we should consider how old we are and how much time we have had to collect this stuff. Another OF said much of their accumulation of what is now clutter are gifts from their kids and friends and they hate to part with them. The OF added that some possessions go as far back as when the kids were in the first grade and now we just can’t bring ourselves to take this special artwork to the dump.

Another OF said it isn’t hoarding — it is keepsake saving.

So a second OG said, “What will your kids do with these so-called mementos when you kick the bucket? Ha! They will haul them to the dump.

Another OF said he doesn’t think so. The OF said his kids are into the DNA ancestry craze and they will probably frame some of the inherited “stuff.”

Still another OF suggested that the OFs who get calls and gifts from their kids, no matter how odd, should be delighted because there are OFs who have kids that take off as soon as they can and the OFs rarely hear from them. This is another way to look at the hoarding situation, so the OFs should hold on to the mementos from friends and their kids.

“What the heck,” the OF said. “Let them deal with it in the end.”

Some laws are just pet peeves

The OFs got a lesson on boat-building at this morning’s breakfast. This came about by the recent article in the Albany Times Union comparing the limo accident in Schoharie in October with the tour-boat accident on Lake George two years ago.

One OF who knows a little bit about boat-building said the alterations that had been made on that boat were so bad the boat was just looking for an accident to happen. “Number one,” the OF said, “was the raising of the seats above the waterline which immediately made the boat unstable and was against code.”

None of the OFs knew exactly what he was talking about (and still don’t) but the way the OF described it, it sure made a lot of sense. An OF suggested that many people try to cheat the system with most getting away with it.

Then one OF said some of the rules and regulations make no sense at all; some of them even sound like one or two people had a pet peeve about something in particular, and they have enough pull to have a law passed just to satisfy their pet peeve.

“Yeah,” another OF said, “then the poor cops have to enforce some of the rinky-dink laws that they know make no sense, or are just there to line the pockets of a particular manufacturer that managed to have a law passed that satisfies only them.”

Honest OFs

This was an unusual breakfast with some of the conversations that came up. These conversations included honesty in the workplace while the OFs were working, especially those OFs who traveled for the companies they worked for.

This excluded some of the OFs because they were self-employed, or were farmers, but they had to deal with hay dealers, horse and cow traders, and these people at times had some tough reputations.

The OFs who traveled on expense accounts found that many of the people that they were traveling with knew how to manage an expense account to their advantage. According to the OFs, the OMOTM returned money on the account because there was no way the OFs could use it all. The OFs talking about this said it took awhile for them to figure out that might be the reason they were sent to all these training sessions, conferences, and conventions.

Those OFs who made it to the Home Front Café In Altamont but were definitely not on expense accounts were: Roger Chapman, Bill Lichliter, George Washburn, Robie Osterman, Wally Guest, Harold Guest, John Rossmann, Mace Porter, Jack Norray, Herb Bahrmann, Lou Schenck, Gerry Irwin, Mark Traver, Otis Lawyer, Joe Rack, Henry Whipple, Mike Willsey, Warren Willsey, Elwood Vanderbilt, Harold Grippen, and me.

Location:

I saw in the paper the other day that a guy died while working on his car when it slipped off the jack stands and killed him. As a guy that regularly works underneath cars supported on jack stands, this kind of thing always catches my attention.

Let’s face it, accidents happen. The only way to be totally safe is to do nothing at all, but even then a meteor can come crashing through your roof and conk you on the head so even the couch is not totally safe when you really think about it.

Another one that happens all too often is a guy working out with a barbell and getting killed when it crashes down on his neck. I work out with weights too and I have a bench with support racks but I still get nervous.

What if the rack breaks? Exercise is supposed to be good for you, not kill you. Yet people even die while running when their heart suddenly goes. There’s always something to worry about, it seems.

Tools are another potentially disastrous thing I deal with on a regular basis. If you’ve ever worked with a bench grinder you know it can shoot things straight at your face if you’re not careful. It’s also easy to have it pull in your hair or your shirt sleeve if you’re not paying attention.

That’s the key right there, paying attention. It’s so easy to let your mind wander or to just get lazy.

I read all the manuals for everything I buy including tools. They always say to tie back your hair, roll up your sleeves, and don’t wear jewelry.

Yet you look around and people are drinking beer while riding lawn mowers, smoking cigarettes while working on engines, hammering away at anything and everything without wearing safety glasses, etc. It would be comical if it weren’t so sad. We are so often our own worst enemies.

I’ve been woodworking forever, yet I still have all my fingers, knock on wood. The closest call I ever had was almost taking off a thumb when I was too lazy to walk down to the basement to use the table saw and instead tried to cut a small piece of wood held in my hand with a circular saw. That was a close one.

Hint: Don’t be lazy any time you’re working with tools. Take the walk to the basement if that’s what needs to be done. Much better than almost losing a thumb.

Sometimes I see roofers hanging right over the edge of the roof, working on the lower course of shingles or on the gutters, one leg swinging freely right out in the air. When I see that, I get a physical sensation of dread that is totally unsettling.

There are safety harnesses available, but these young, strong guys are invincible at that age, just like we all were when we were that young. When I think back to all the trees and roofs I used to climb with my buddies (we once even climbed up onto an elevated subway platform, from the street), I can’t believe how stupid I was. Boy, hard to believe I did all that and got away with it, looking back now.

I’m lucky to have a beautiful new grandson to play with, which is great. It’ll be interesting to see and assist his parents as he gets into one potentially dangerous situation after another.

This from a guy who as a kid stuck a bare wire into an electric outlet just to see what would happen. They say there are folks who have to pee on the electric fence just to make sure it’s really on. Yikes! Let’s hope my little grandson is not that type.

Of course these days danger is not limited to working on cars, lifting weights, and using tools. If you click on the wrong link or open the wrong file attachment, your computer can be taken over by bad guys who will then attempt to get mucho dinero from you to unlock it.

The takeaway here is there is computing and then there is safe computing. It’s incumbent on you to practice safe computing if you don’t want this kind of problem.

Yes, it involves an investment of time to learn what to do and, more importantly, what not to do, but that’s the price we pay to be on a worldwide computer network in the kind of world that we live in. It just comes with the territory.

Let’s wrap this up with a true story. One time, a friend from Canada was visiting with his wife and toddler. I had a pot of pasta that was just about done on the stove. I removed the colander so the pasta could drain. Then I picked up the pot of boiling water and headed toward the sink to drain it.

As I turned from the stove with the pot of boiling water in my hands, I felt something and the toddler, out of nowhere, was tangled up right in my feet. To this day, I honestly don’t know how I didn’t drop that pot of scalding hot water on myself and on that baby.

Gives me chills just thinking about it. What’s the saying? “God takes care of fools and babies.” He certainly took care of both of us that day.

Better safe than sorry. Words to live by.

Location:

The Enterprise — Mike Nardacci

Clarksville Cave is one of the most heavily-visited non-commercial caves in the Northeast; this is one of its historic entrances.

The Enterprise — Mike Nardacci

The entrance to Onesquethaw Cave is flooded. The cave lies in a low area and is subject to high water in times of heavy precipitation or snowmelt.

The Enterprise — Mike Nardacci

The rustic cabin in the Schoharie Caverns Nature Preserve is frequently used by college outdoor clubs and geology classes on field trips.

The Enterprise — Mike Nardacci

Situated at the base of a limestone cliff, the entrance to Schoharie Caverns leads to a high canyon passage richly decorated with calcite formations.

— Photo by Art Palmer

Knox Cave in winter has massive ice deposits cloaking its entrance. The photo was taken around 1960 when the staircase was still intact, but the scene looks much the same in any Helderberg winter.

— Photo by Mike Nardacci

The picturesque entrance to Spider Cave gives no hint of its uninviting interior though its name alludes to the creatures that populate its walls in great numbers.

 

The precise locations of the caves referred to in this column have been left deliberately vague to protect both the caves and inexperienced persons who might wish to enter them. Those interested in local cave exploration are urged to check out the website of the Northeastern Cave Conservancy — www.necaveconservancy.org — and to consider a cave trip tailored to their abilities during the period between May 1 and Sept. 30 when the caves are open to visitors.

One might — in a whimsical moment — regard it as “The Spelean Archipelago.”

Though sport — and scientific — cavers have long frowned upon the term “spelunker,” the noun “speleology” — the scientific name for the study of caves, derived from “spelaion,” the Greek word for a cave — and the adjective “speleological” have long been standard usage.

Across the United States, preserves in karst areas dot the map, ranging in size from a single acre to hundreds — karst” being the term for a region of limestone or marble bedrock containing caves. In our part of the country they are owned and/or managed by two organizations: the Northeastern Cave Conservancy, which recently celebrated its 40th anniversary, the website of which declares that its mission is the conservation, study, acquisition, and management of northeastern caves; and the National Speleological Society, today an international, organization of sport and scientific cave explorers.

The organizations are commonly referred to respectively as “the NCC” and “the NSS.” Their preserves protect numerous caves, the watersheds they involve, the unique life within them, and the classic karst surface features such as sinkholes, disappearing streams, and springs. Many local cavers are members of both organizations, the websites of which detail the history and geology of the various preserves.

From Oct. 1 to the end of April, many Northeastern caves — and all of those under the ownership or management of the NCC and the NSS — are closed to protect the caves’ bat populations, which in recent years have been ravaged by the insidious disease known as White Nose Syndrome.

Commercial caves such as Howe Caverns and a number of privately-owned caves that do not harbor bats remain open; however, winter has never been a very popular time for sport caving except for the most dedicated, given the fact that Northeast caves are almost by definition very wet, and slogging through snow in subfreezing temperatures to and from the caves can be extraordinarily miserable.

The National Speleological Society was founded in 1941 by a small but dedicated group of cave explorers and since has grown to an international organization with thousands of members. In the Northeast, the NSS owns three Schoharie County cave preserves: the Schoharie Caverns Nature Preserve; the James Gage Karst Preserve; and McFails cave, the most extensive in the Northeast. All three properties were donated to the NSS by generous patrons and have been maintained over the years by dedicated volunteers.

Knox Cave tragedy leads to stewardship

Yet the NCC was born as the final result of a tragic caving accident in 1975.

In May of that year, several college students from Albany were attempting to enter Knox Cave, which even late in the season still had a huge mass of ice encrusting the part of its sinkhole above the entrance.

The cave near the hamlet of Knox had sporadically been run as a commercial operation like Howe and Secret Caverns in Cobleskill, most famously under the ownership of Delevan C. Robinson and his wife, Ada. In the mid-20th Century, the couple were responsible for the building of an elaborate staircase offering access to the cave, which lies over 100 feet underground, and for constructing walkways and installing lighting for tourists.

D.C. seems to have had what the Irish call “the gift of blarney”: Some of his descriptions of the cave and its extent were — to put it gently — fanciful. But the cave features both large, easily-accessed passageways and more challenging sections that require stamina and sometimes ropework of explorers and it has attracted serious cavers for many generations as well as tourists during the relatively brief periods when it was commercialized.

The Robinsons also built a large roller rink adjacent to the cave’s entrance sinkhole that for a while, in the 1940s and 1950s, was the scene of skating parties and country dances. It seems to have formed a center of social life for the Hilltowns in the days when not many hardworking Helderberg folks could afford the time or the money to travel to nearby cities for entertainment.

But following D.C.’s death, commercial operation of the cave ended for the last time in 1961, though sport cavers and scientists continued to gain access to Knox with the kind permission of D.C.’s widow, Ada, until she died in 1964.

Some time in the mid-1960s, the largely abandoned property was purchased by a Long Island corporation called “Organa Industries,” which announced its intention to restore the cave and dig out a boulder-choked sinkhole adjacent to its classic entrance to allow a through trip. But Organa Industries went belly-up and the restorations never took place.

Old-timers in the Knox area may remember the huge steam shovel that stood for years in the field next to the commercial entrance but it seems never to have been employed in digging the clogged sinkhole and it eventually collapsed into a rusty pile of warped metal and cables.

The result was that access to Knox Cave was without any sort of control; in the years that followed, the staircase and the walkways deteriorated and the lighting system and many of the cave’s natural decorations were vandalized, and the skating rink and the Robinsons’ 200-year-old farmhouse were torched.

Even the massive frozen waterfalls that formed in winter from drainage in the fields around the Knox sinkhole did not deter visitors from entering the cave. Sometimes the warmer (48-degree) air within the cave would melt a tight hole allowing access to the adventurous — or risk-takers — while at other times the even more foolhardy were rumored to be using sledge hammers to smash their way through the ice to gain entrance.

In any case, one day in May 1975, as a group of Albany students tried to enter the cave through its ice-encrusted entrance, spring runoff from surrounding fields poured in a cascade behind the ice deposits.  The result was that a massive block of ice broke away and came crashing down, killing one student and leaving another paralyzed from the neck down.

By that time, the cave and surrounding land had been sold for non-payment of taxes to a doctor from Schenectady. Fearing additional injuries and lawsuits, the doctor attempted to donate the cave to the National Speleological Society. But the same fears caused the NSS to reject the offer, and a group of cavers became concerned that the cave might be acquired by someone who would ban all exploration or even bulldoze its entrance sinkhole effectively closing it permanently.

Thus, in 1978, three area men — Robert Addis, Dr. Art Palmer, and Jim Harbison — formed the Northeastern Cave Conservancy as a not-for-profit group and Knox Cave has continued to be made available to qualified cavers.

Over the years, subsequent exploration has added close to 1,000 feet of previously unknown passage to the map of Knox Cave and revealed another segment of passage yet to be connected to Knox known as Crossbones Cave. And, over the years, through purchase or donation, the NSS and the NCC have acquired a number of other parcels of land containing caves that are also well-known to explorers.

Caves galore

A western portion of the Helderberg Plateau known as Barton Hill in Schoharie County rises steeply above the Fox and Schoharie creeks. A standing joke among cavers is that the hill is hollow because of the numerous caves that underlie it.

One large parcel of land owned by the NSS was donated by the Gage family and contains the Schoharie Caverns, which resembles a slot canyon; its entrance lies at the base of a limestone cliff on the edge of the plateau.  Schoharie Caverns consists of nearly half a mile of streamway featuring beautiful stalactites and stalagmites that decades of visits by college outing clubs and other groups have left marvelously intact.

A rather spartan cabin on the property is maintained by local cavers and is available for groups visiting Schoharie Caverns and other nearby cave preserves.

And there are many. The NSS also owns another large parcel of land on Barton Hill known as the James Gage Karst Preserve; it contains Ball’s Cave, named after its 19th-Century landowner.

Its vertical entrance lies in a heavily-wooded section of the hill and has drawn visitors for over 150 years.  The cave features immense rooms as well as low crawl ways, and a diminutive flooded segment of the cave known as the “Lost Passage” requires cavers to experience a chilling “ear dip” to pass through it.  (Do you really want to ask?)

Although there are a number of other known or suspected caves on Barton Hill not under the control of the NSS or the NCC, Spider Cave was recently donated to the NCC by a local landowner. Its alluring entrance has been described as “Storybook,” but explorers have found that it is a very short story except for those with the intrepidity to challenge its agonizingly tight, wet main passage that extends for over a thousand miserable feet into the plateau.

And those who enter its easily accessible first hundred or so feet will encounter scores of its eponymous creepy occupants scampering across the cave’s water-smoothed walls.

McFails is the jewel

Generally considered the “jewel in the crown” of Northeast caves is McFails Cave on the Cobleskill Plateau. Its entrance is in a beautiful hemlock-and-hardwood forest pockmarked with gaping vertical sinkholes, some of which take voluminous quantities of water from time to time.

Only a short and very unpleasant segment of McFails was known until 1961 when some students from Cornell University plunged through a pool with only a few inches of airspace and discovered that the cave did not end at the uninviting pool. Today the cave is known to be over seven miles in length, much of which consists of high canyons and large chambers beautifully decorated with calcite formations.

But the cave can be treacherous: Entrance requires rappelling down 70 feet — in wet weather through a waterfall — and much of a cave trip involves constant immersion in a cold stream, making the wearing of a wetsuit a necessity. The cave has been hydrologically connected to other caves on the plateau, meaning that water in them them has been traced to McFails.

Thus the potential exists for a cave system some 26 miles in length — a fact likely to draw intrepid explorers for years to come.

Clarksville Cave is the best known

Undoubtedly the NCC-owned cave that is best known to the general public is Clarksville Cave, which has drawn visitors for well over 150 years. Groups from camps, schools, churches, and colleges regularly visit the cave between May 1 and Sept. 30.

Clarksville has three known entrances and lies beneath a hardwood forest laced with nature trails. While much of the cave consists of subway-tunnel size passages, more adventurous visitors are drawn to its tight — and wet — challenging sections that lead to pools and a picturesque waterfall.

Despite its easy accessibility and heavy traffic in summer months, much of the cave is relatively pristine and its numerous classic features both above and below ground make it a veritable textbook example of cave and karst geology.

Ominous Onesquethaw

Not far from the village of Clarksville is the lesser-known Onesquethaw Cave also owned by the NCC. Named for the stream that flows through the valley in which its entrance lies, its low, twisting passages are studded with fossils and its sometimes maze-like layout gives the cave a certain allure.

But Onesquethaw is not for the novice cave explorer and has long had a somewhat ominous reputation. It lies in a low area that is prone to flooding and, in times of sudden heavy precipitation, a roaring stream enters the cave and can fill its passages to the ceiling.

In 1991, a group of college students became briefly trapped in Onesquethaw when a torrential surge of water flooded the cave, setting off a massive rescue effort involving the Albany-Schoharie Cave Rescue group and local fire companies as well as news organizations from all over the Northeast.

The students had fortunately found a room with a high ceiling and were able to cling to the walls until the water levels finally dropped and allowed them to leave the cave.

As the students’ experience in Onesquethaw Cave demonstrates — the subterranean world demands respect of those who enter it. The Northeastern Cave Conservancy and the National Speleological Society have not only managed to acquire and keep open many classic Northeastern caves for qualified visitors, the groups have educational and scientific components as well.

Through work with the general public as well as scientists and qualified students, ranging from grade school right up through university-level, the organizations have helped to maintain and protect the resources of the world beneath our feet.

And the NCC and the NSS are not alone. All across the 48 contiguous States and in Alaska and Hawaii, many hundreds of acres of karst lands and areas underlain by lava caves have been acquired and protected by organizations of dedicated cavers — a “spelean archipelago” indeed.

Could statehood be far behind?

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There are some people and groups throughout history who were so taken with the birth of Jesus — the Christmas story and all it implies — that they hoped Jesus, after he died, would come a second time.

In anticipation they live(d) lives devoted to what they believed are the good tidings of Christmas — the gospel Jesus preached and lived.

One of those groups is the religious community of Shakers who in the late-18th Century settled tracts of land near the roads we drive to and from the Albany International Airport.

They were an offshoot of the Quakers, the peaceful ones, and because of their energetic dancing during religious services, came to be known as the “Shaking Quakers,” which I’ve always taken to be a kind of put-down.

The real name of these shaking people, if you will, is the United Society of Believers in Christ's Second Appearing. You can see right in their name that they were waiting for Jesus to come again — they wanted another Christmas.

A lot of people today have a hard time understanding such a thing because they have no conception of Christmas or, if they do, it has no “religious” dimension.

A survey by the Pew Research Center a year ago this month asked Americans what Christmas meant to them. The vast majority said they celebrate Christmas, and usually by going to church and visiting with their family — nine out of 10.

But the data also reveal that a goodly number of the youngest among us — in particular the Millennials — say Christmas is a cultural thing, not religious. A cynic might say they caved to the market.

These youngsters say the historical facts surrounding Jesus’s birth, as found in the gospels of Matthew and Luke — the Christmas narrative — have little meaning for them. Was there a manger? Maybe. Was Mary a virgin when Jesus was born? Who knows?

Shepherds, wise men? Nice touch but not applicable. More important is what will I get my Secret Santa.

While Pew’s data are interesting, none of the survey offers answers to questions having to do with whether Christmas changed people’s lives. Because the questions were not asked.

But wouldn’t it be wonderful to know how such a change occurs? Would an outside observer be able to see it?

As we know, the proof of the value of any ethical system is found in whether people follow its mandates. In the case of Christmas, is it possible to celebrate Christmas without including something about Christmas in it?

The Shakers are worth our attention because they offered the world not only a unique vision of what Christmas means but also a way of life that reflected the mandate of the manger.

They set up communities where the resources of everybody were shared, where every person was treated as everybody else; women are equal to men without exception.

The founder, Ann Lee, was a woman. Not long after came Lucy Wright who led the “church” for 25 years. In terms of equality she reminded her family, “There is a daily duty to do; that is, for the Brethren to be kind to the Brethren, Sisters kind to the Sisters, and the Brethren and Sisters kind to each other.”

Because of such values the Shakers seemed distinction-blind. They took in black people, Jews, Catholics, Protestants, ministers as well as penitents. The only prevailing variable was need.

Before the Civil War their numbers grew to 6,000 living in more than 20 communities stretching from New York to Indiana down to Kentucky. Unable to fight in the war because of their pacifism — they were exempted by the president himself — they took in wounded from both sides, they fed and clothed slaves, they gave beds to slaveholders.

One of the marvels of the Shakers is that their sense of community found expression in invention. They invented the flat broom, the clothespin, garden seeds sold in paper packets, the circular saw, and much more.

The beauty and simplicity of the cupboards they built and the chairs they sat on reflected Mother Ann’s maxim, “Do your work as though you had a thousand years to live and as if you were to die tomorrow.”

The great poet and Trappist monk Thomas Merton said, “The peculiar grace of a Shaker chair is due to the fact that it was made by someone capable of believing that an angel might come and sit on it.”

The devotional 1984 documentary “The Shakers: Hands to Work, Hearts to God” by Ken Burns and Amy Stechler Burns highlights the radical simplicity of Mother Ann’s followers in every frame.

And in “The Shaker Experience in America: A History of the United Society of Believers” (Yale University Press, 1992), Stephen Stein documents the ways the communities grappled with the same kinds of issues every family faces.

After the Civil War, changes in economic and social conditions saw fewer people called to live the Shaker life. The closing of their communities, one after the other in the early part of the 20th Century, is the sad vision of a tree losing its last leaves.

Thus, of the 6,000 who once awaited the Second Appearing, two remain: Brother Arnold Hadd, 61, and Sister June Carpenter in her 70s, both of whom embody the Shaker spirit at their Sabbathday Lake community in New Gloucester, Maine.

I’ve heard more than a few cynics rail over the years: Well, if they were that good, what happened? And then they smirk because another communal experiment failed.

Nothing happened to the Shakers. They have given, and continue to give, America a viable model of community, especially Her early-21st-Century version buried in turmoil, alienation, and vindictive aggression.

We might want to amend many of the Shaker ascetic practices but never the hospitality they extended toward each other and those who came to them in need.  

After the fiery devastation that just took California — and the long drought before that — more than 50,000 people are looking for a home, a community to live in, a hook to hang their continuity on.

Can the care offered by an insurance company match the selfless hospitality a Shaker community affords? The model is there for the taking.

Dire climate-change forecasters say that fire, drought, flood, and related hurricane conditions will not cease but aggravate. And the measure of hardship will no longer be whether the rich on New York City’s Upper East Side, and their counterparts everywhere, will be able to score a grape or two from a surviving vineyard.

Section IV of Part II of the “Millennial Laws or Gospel Statutes and Ordinances Adapted to the day of Christ’s Second Appearing,” first prepared by Father Joseph Meacham and Mother Lucy Wright at their New Lebanon community in August 1821, contains an “Order of Christmas.”

It says that “on Christmas day Believers [and here we substitute Americans] should make perfect reconciliation, one with an other; and leave all grudges, hard feelings, and disaffection one towards an other, eternally behind on this day; and to forgive, as we would be forgiven, and nothing which is this day settled, or which has been settled previous to this, may hereafter be brought forward against an other.”

The Order then adds that Christmas Day is a time “to remember the poor of the world, and to carry to the place of deposit ... such garments and goods, as are designed for them.”

Do you think Meacham and Wright presaged the needs of Californians a Christmas 200 years later? Amid a discouraging moment or two I’m inclined to think the Second Appearing is already upon us.

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