Archive » December 2023 » Columns

— Photo from Guilderland Historical Society

One year, McKownville Methodist Church’s Sunday school party opened with a pageant presented by the children, followed by a visit from Santa, a Christmas tree, gifts, candy, and ice cream. All that and the Children’s Fairy was to visit as well. Everyone was cordially invited to remain after the program for the social hour. Another year, there was simply a Christmas party at the church when there was an invitation for “all children of the community.” There was much activity in all of the town’s churches during the Christmas season.

Black Friday deals early in November, blow-up Santas on lawns within days of Halloween, and some store decorations on display as early as September — Christmas or the “holiday” season seems to begin earlier each year. A look back at Christmas a century ago tells a different story.

In issues of The Enterprise from 1921 to 1923, the only mention of Christmas before Thanksgiving was advance publicity for sales of Christmas seals which were to be used in addition to postage stamps on Christmas cards or on wrappings of Christmas packages.

An idea adopted from Denmark in l907, the funds raised from their sales across the nation were used for the prevention and treatment of tuberculosis, a dread disease that killed 100,000 Americans annually in that era. Money raised in Albany County was used within the county for visiting nurses and a sanatorium in the Pine Hills section of Albany.

 

Commerce

Gift giving had long been a Christmas custom, but by the 1920s commercialization had begun creeping in with retailers promoting a wide variety of choices.

Christmas advertising was a bonanza for newspapers in that era with The Enterprise running ads from smaller Albany and Schenectady specialty shops and Schenectady department stores. Ads from Albany department stores were missing, perhaps because they felt people here would have already seen their offerings listed in the Albany papers.

Now that there was bus service from Guilderland to Schenectady plus private automobiles, Schenectady stores seemed to be making a serious effort to attract Guilderland area customers.

During these years, usually The Enterprise issue of the second week in December featured a page-one decorative Christmas illustration with a lengthy story publicizing all their advertisers, urging readers to patronize them. Throughout the paper, regular community news columns were interspersed with numerous ads, Christmas-themed illustrations, stories, and the occasional poem.

Schenectady’s big three department stores — Wallace Co., Carl Co. and H.S. Barney, “where everybody shops” — usually ran half-page ads familiarizing potential customers with the wide variety of gifts available. Additionally, they offered amenities such as restrooms and restaurants.

Carl Co. would reimburse carfare if you spent $20 or more in their store (a 1921-23 dollar equals $17 to $18 today), while Wallace’s would deliver your purchases for free. All of them stayed open a few specific nights before Christmas for shoppers’ convenience.

For the more budget-minded, Lurie’s, “The Store of Today and Tomorrow,” was the “Big Economy Store” in Schenectady.

Department-store basements were stocked with toys popular in that day with action toys for boys like trucks, Daisy air rifles, velocipedes (tricycles), circus vans, Lionel train sets, Noah’s arks, and bowling alleys among the choices. Girls were pointed in the direction of domesticity with toy ranges, carpet sweepers, laundry sets, doll furniture, dolls and doll carriages as their selections.

Even though the first store Santa appeared in New England in 1890, only Wallace’s advertised a Santa in its toy department “to greet children and listen to their wishes.”  And for children too old for toys, City Savings Bank of Albany suggested opening a savings account in their name with a first deposit.

Price ranges for toys were sometimes printed, ranging from under a dollar for a few things such as Camp Fire Girls books for 25 cents each to Lionel train sets as high as $25.

Smaller Albany and Schenectady specialty shops offered clothing, leather goods, rubber products, fountain pens, Victrolas, umbrellas, and luggage — just a few of the items advertised. John B. Hauf of Albany suggested making it “a furniture Christmas” while Perkins Silk Shop informed prospective customers, “lingerie material is always acceptable as Xmas gifts.” The Municipal Gas Company pushed husbands to buy their wives “an easy electric washer” to “make her happy Christmas morning.”

Few town stores advertised Christmas gifts with some exceptions. Altamont Pharmacy could provide the shopper with “Xmas Presents Acceptable to All Members of the Family” including electric tree lights for $4, Kodak cameras, candy, stationery, as well as electric flat irons and a vacuum cleaner for $50.

Fredendall’s Furniture Store had “Shopping Hints for Christmas Gifts” with suggestions of various pieces of furniture. M.B. Keenholts offered a variety including Christmas cards, decorative paper items, candy including ribbon candy and candy canes as well as the usual cigars and newspapers. And oddly, he also had select oysters should you want them.

Don’t forget The Altamont Enterprise, suggesting a year’s subscription for $1.50 would make a perfect gift, especially for a friend or relative out of town.

No Cyber Monday? No UPS, FedEx, Prime? A century ago, at-home shoppers would reach for “The Thrift Book of the Nation,” their Sears, Roebuck & Co. catalog; fill out the order form; write out a check or more likely get a money order at their local Post Office; and wait for their mailman to deliver their package to their house unless they had a Post Office Box and had to pick it up themselves.

 

Charity

The poor in Albany weren’t forgotten. Various churches, either as a whole or one of their organizations, collected money or donations of food, clothing, and toys to be sent into the city.

St. John’s Lutheran Church sent a large amount of food, clothing, and toys to C.R. Story Mission while Altamont Reformed Church’s Laurel Band group packed a Christmas box to be sent to the City Mission in Albany.

In Guilderland Center, the Reformed Church requested apples and jelly to be sent to Dr. and Mrs. Griffin of Albany for their excellent work among the poor.

Each year, there were similar collections. Anything done for families or individuals in Guilderland who were having a rough time of it would have been done privately if at all.

 

Children celebrate

For the town’s children, Christmas was likely to be the most exciting time of the year with parties at school and Sunday school often with visits from Santa, refreshments, and gifts. Often these were combined with some kind of performances by the children — singing, reciting, and acting in plays with the public invited.

At Guilderland Center’s Cobblestone School, Mrs. Witherwax’s students “presented a pleasing program of Christmas songs, recitations, and exercises.” Afterward, there was a “merry Christmas party” when she presented gifts to the students from under the branches of the decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

These school Christmas programs open to the community were common, sometimes combined with a party, other times strictly performances with class parties back in their classrooms. This was the case with Altamont High School where all grades from primary through high school offered an evening performance for families and friends of the school.

Not only did it seem that teachers gave children small gifts, but teachers received gifts from their students. Mrs. Witherwax went home one year with a clothes basket of gifts while Miss Lucy Osborn, the teacher at Dunnsville’s school, received a “fine hardwood rocking chair” from her “scholars.”

Occasionally these public Christmas programs were presented at local churches as when the Parkers Corners school children offered their community Christmas program at the Parkers Corners Methodist Church.

In Guilderland, the public-school classes combined with the Federated Sunday School classes to present a community program at the Guilderland Methodist Church. Afterward, Santa arrived with candy and oranges for all the children while Sunday school teachers gave additional gifts to their own classes.

Children who attended the town’s Sunday schools usually put on programs of recitations, music, and stories for their own congregation in combination with a party following, a visit from Santa, and gifts from their Sunday school teachers.

Usually adults of the congregation were invited to view the performance and join in the party afterward. These performances were a method of informally teaching children about the real meaning of Christmas.

 

Church services

The town’s Protestant churches held their special Christmas service on the Sunday preceding December 25 unless as happened in 1921 when Christmas was actually on a Sunday.

Whatever the actual day of Christmas, during their Christmas service choirs sang, sometimes there was inclusion of Sunday school children singing a carol or giving a recitation, and also a Christmas sermon given by the minister, making it a special Sunday.

Helderberg Reformed Church had just purchased a new organ and its special Christmas service began with an organ recital. Sometimes on Christmas Eve or Christmas night a church may have held a special service also.

A special vesper service, held in Altamont’s Reformed Church for their Sunday school centered around “White Gifts for the King,” when each Sunday school class brought up gifts of toys, clothing, and other articles including money to be distributed to the poor.

And new in 1923 was the announcement, “Christmas Masses.” Rev. Walter T. Bazaar would be offering Mass at 7 a.m. at St. Lucy’s on Christmas morning before turning around to return to Voorheesville to offer two additional masses at St. Matthew’s.

 

Community

By 1923, technology made its appearance with The Enterprise listing Christmas radio programs offered on Schenectady’s WGY, the variety including a broadcast of the service at St. Peter’s Church in Albany and the WGY Players acting in the Christmas-themed play “The Fool.”

During these years, Guilderland Center had a civic group that put on a community Christmas party at the “Town Hall,” a building on the community’s Main Street, owned by the town of Guilderland, which had a large meeting room used for community events.

Everyone in Guilderland Center and the nearby area was invited. The evening began with a “cafeteria” supper — one year oysters made up the main course — with games for the children who also usually repeated the program they had performed earlier at the Cobblestone School.

There was an electrically lighted Christmas tree and sooner or later Santa showed up with gifts for the children. Finally, the evening ended with dancing for the adults. This gathering occurred during the week after Christmas.

For those who were grieving recent loss, deeply depressed, in bad economic straits, or an unbeliever, December must have been a difficult month; but for the great majority of Guilderland’s residents, Christmas seemed to be a wonderful, community-oriented time of the year — a century with real spiritual meaning for a great number of them.

As you can imagine, my first few months with the Guilderland Fire Department have been quite interesting and exciting.

Let’s start with the basics of how it works when you respond to a call as a volunteer firefighter. You wear a pager, it goes off, then you open an app on your phone and let them know how long you think it will take you to get to the firehouse.

When you arrive there, you gear up and await your orders. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. Now let me tell you what happened on my first two “call-outs.”

When the pager went off, I responded on the app. Then I picked out a shirt, found my wallet and keys, and left the house. That was my first mistake.

Then I sped down to the firehouse. That was my second mistake.

At the firehouse, our boots are stored with the pants rolled down around them, the theory being you can then just hop in the boots and then pull up the pants.

I got into the boots and was attempting to pull my pants up when, both times, our big hook-and-ladder truck T-29 (pronounced “tee” “two” “nine” for the benefit of radio communications) pulled out without me. That sucks!

Here is what I’ve learned since then. First, when the pager goes off, you respond on the app and then you are out the door. Don’t pick out a shirt or try to match clothes or anything like that. There are no style points for fighting fires, haha. Just get out the door as fast as you can.

When you leave your house on the way to the firehouse, do not speed or break any traffic laws. Firefighters have been killed while speeding to the firehouse.

If you drive like a maniac, there is a good chance you’ll wind up in an accident. What good is that? Play it safe and get there in one piece. That is the only way to do it.

When you get to the firehouse, you literally jump into your boots and pull your pants up. Then you grab your jacket and put that on while running to the truck (and don’t forget your helmet). You can tighten and adjust things once in the truck.

Getting your gear on fast comes with experience, but that is the gist of it: getting all your gear on in a minute or less. Now let me tell you about my third call-out.

It was a Sunday. My lovely wife, Charlotte, and I had been out all day, first to church in Princetown, then to a cancer fundraiser in Cohoes, followed by dinner with friends in Troy. We got home at about 8 p.m.

I was so tired I was about to go to bed a little after 9 p.m. when the pager went off. The dispatcher mentioned it was a smoke-alarm call.

Now here’s the thing about smoke alarms: They will “chirp” when their batteries get low. It’s their way of letting you know new batteries are needed. But many people call the fire department when any sound comes out of a smoke detector. I’ve done it myself.

Knowing this, I decided to skip responding to this call. As a volunteer firefighter, you have the right to not respond to a call if you wish (you’re tired, you don’t feel good, etc.). So I just went to bed, but I left the pager on.

At approximately 11:20 p.m., the pager went off again. This time, the call was for structure fire, which is the highest priority.

I made it to the firehouse and again missed the first truck leaving but, because of the severity of this call, a second truck was needed, which I got on. One minute, I’m fast asleep in bed; five minutes later I’m in a humongous fire truck blasting up Carman Road with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Wow.

When we got to the fire scene on Lydius Street, it was unreal. This normally quiet part of town looked like a LaGuardia Airport runway lit up at night. The people had gotten out of the house, fortunately, but you could see at least three separate fires going.

My team got assigned to fight the fire in the back of the house, by the attached garage. I ran out into the street with one end of a hose and met a guy from another fire company; there were at least five fire companies there. We hooked the hoses together.

Then the hose got charged with water and we proceeded to attack the garage fire. My job now was to move the hose around the property to give it a straight shot so my teammates could better direct it.

The problem was getting it around all the landscaping features that were there: big shrubs, large concrete urns, play sets, etc. You don’t usually think about fire prevention when laying out your landscaping, but perhaps you should.

By 3 a.m., we’d finished our job. Then I took one end of the hose, put it over my head, and walked the length of the hose to drain it out. Then another guy used what looked like a hair roller on steroids to flatten the hose and drain every last drop of water out.

After that, I got on my knees and proceeded to tightly, and I mean tightly, roll up the hose. Once that was done, I humped it against my chest — it’s very heavy and quite unwieldy — and got it back to the truck.

When we got back to the firehouse, our lower extremities were covered in white foam from the fire scene, so we took turns using a garden hose to spray each other down in the driveway. Then protocol required us to wait for the main apparatus to return to the station. Once they did and we verified all of us and the equipment were OK, we were dismissed.

I got home at 4 a.m. and had my annual physical exam at 7 a.m. My doctor said my blood pressure was unusually high. I said maybe that’s because I was up all night doing firefighting, haha

It took me two days to get my sleep cycle back to normal, but it sure was fun being part of a team and doing something very important for the community. The only real bummer was learning that there was a dog in the house that didn’t make it out. You never want to see that happen.

Now I have to embarrass two of my Guilderland Fire Department teammates. The first is veteran firefighter Don Gaitor. Don has been a volunteer firefighter for 50 years. Fifty years!

Since the only formal training I have received at this point has been about sexual harassment of all things, I have a lot of questions about how to do all that is required for firefighting, safety, and prevention. Don has been the perfect mentor for me.

I call him sometimes twice a day with questions, and he always takes the time to answer clearly and with great detail. I’m so glad to have him as a go-to resource for such a big responsibility that I take very seriously. Couldn’t ask for a better mentor than Don.

I don’t know about you but I always thought of firefighters as men, yet we actually have a few female volunteer firefighters at GFD. One of them is Elizabeth MacDonald.

I know enough from buying gifts for my wife over the years that Liz would be considered “petite,” but don’t let her small stature throw you. She is as tough as nails.

The other night, all the “Class A” firefighters — the ones who have been trained and certified to run into burning buildings — did a very physical drill. It involved seven difficult tasks, like dragging a simulated unconscious body around with a harness, and lifting heavy bags of tools up and down stairs.

These seven tasks had to be done as sets, five times each, all while wearing SCBA (Self Contained Breathing Apparatus) and trying not to run out of air. When Liz was done, she pulled off her face mask and it looked like she was ready for another round.

Not only is she very tough, but she kids around like one of the guys. The other day, we were talking about the team-like feeling around the firehouse.

“It even smells like a gym locker,” she quipped.

Liz has a great personality, is full of energy, and is beautiful as well. What an honor it is to work with such a strong, capable woman.

All I know is, when we’re driving to a fire scene and Don or Liz are in the truck with me, I know they have my back and everyone else’s as well. I truly hope that someday I can learn to be as proficient, professional, and dependable as they are. It will take a lot of training and experience to get there, but I’m up for it.

You know, superhero movies are all the rage these days. Everyone likes to see powerful heroes take down the bad guys.

But just go into any volunteer firehouse and you’ll find actual living and breathing superheroes: our friends, relatives, and neighbors, just ordinary people, who for no pay do tons of training and get up at all hours of the night to make sure we’re covered in case the worst happens. How awesome is that?

Becoming a volunteer firefighter with the Guilderland Fire Department has been an incredibly immersive and satisfying experience. While I certainly wish I had done it sooner, I know it’s never too late to be great.

Tuesdays seem to come so quickly, while some days seem to take forever to get here. Tuesday, Nov. 28, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Middleburgh Diner.

To get to the Middleburgh Diner for many of the OMOTM, it is necessary to go up, then down, even when the OF lives on the mountain. This past Tuesday, there was about two to four inches of snow at the top going over what is known as Cotton Hill.

This country road is popular with many of the OFs going to Middleburgh, but on Tuesday morning it was a bad decision, and as one OF put it, the road “was unsafe at any speed.” This prompted most to return home via the “flats” where the road conditions were much better.

We have a couple OFs who, when the weather becomes a little nippy, wear their coonskin hats to the breakfast. The hats must be faux fur because the OFs do not think raccoons are that large.

These hats must have come with paddles because when turned upside down the OF could get in the hat and paddle himself across the pond. Fess Parker these OFs are not, and the hat Parker wore in “Daniel Boone” was much smaller.

One OF told of one summer packing the whole family in the station wagon and spending their whole vacation tracking down Daniel Boone because his son (only about 8 years old) thought he was Daniel Boone. The OF said this was a great vacation and quite an adventure.

 

Hearing help

Many times, the sense of hearing is covered by the OMOTM, especially how hearing aids seem to be a lot of money for what they provide and how long the aids seem to last. One OF who has trouble hearing and wears his hearing aids showed up Tuesday morning with a new hearing device.

This unit had an external microphone that was worn around the neck and the receiver part was in the ears. One OF said it was akin to something like a Bluetooth arrangement.

The OF let some of the other OFs try the new system out and the other OFs thought it worked great. Is that anything like passing around a new set of false teeth because the OF thought they worked so great?

Glasses maybe, as glasses have been passed back and forth at the breakfast because this or that OF forgot his.

 

Fading tats

The OFs who were in the military, and that is quite a few, discussed how tattoos were more or less frowned upon when joining. The OFs coupled this with where we are now and where we were then, and decided that the pundits are right.

When the OFs were young, they were part of the Greatest Generation. This did not stop the OFs from not paying too much attention to military regulations and who got tattoos anyway.

They were discharged as a literally colored group with statements like Mom, or the picture of, or at least the number of, their ship permanently inked on their bodies.

Tattoos may be OK (?) when people are young, but as they age things begin to change. First, the red color goes, and then those who have used yellow see it starts to fade and then disappear.

Finally, the tattoo becomes nothing but a black blob when reaching the age of 50 or so, and for the rest of your life the one with the tattoo carries this black blob around with him. Take this from some OFs who support these black blobs and can’t even remember what they are, where they got them, or when.

 

Sport supports

Hunting and fishing season discussion came up next. There seems to always have been a hunting and fishing season even when the OFs were really young.

On Tuesday morning, the OFs discussed hunting and fishing, their escapades, their success, and their failures.

Just as with any sport, when the OFs are really into it, the sport can be expensive. The guns and ammo., the outfits, all the accessories that go with a particular sport can add up.

Fishing with the poles, waders, the boat, the trailer, and all that gear really can add up. One OF mentioned that sports are so lucrative that there are entire stores catering to only sports.

Yet, as one OF said, it is impossible to beat a good day of fishing. The bumper sticker is right.

Those OMOTM that managed to make it to the Middleburgh Diner in Middleburgh and start the day off as a good day even though the OFs were not fishing, were: Bill Lichliter, Marty Herzog, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrmann, Gerry Cross, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Wayne Gaul, Rev. Jay Francis, Ed Goff, Doug Marshall, Roland Tozer, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, and not me.

Getting to eat the bird on Nov. 21, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown.

Just as this scribe started to type, a thought raced through his mind. As for many people, these stupid thoughts flash in and out of the mind with no connection to anything, and for no reason.

This one was combining last week’s breakfast with this breakfast at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown. This scribe has many friends from around the country who think New York state is covered with concrete and everyone lives in a high rise.

The restaurant last week was in Quaker Street (blink twice and you have driven through Quaker Street) but if you are in Princetown blink once and that one is in the rear view mirror. My goodness! What a misconception abounds out there on what our state is — how big and wild New York really is.

Now, if it would just do something about the weather and the politics, there would probably not be such an exodus.

 

Cat tales

In going through the old notes, there is a note where the OFs discussed cats. It is not checked off. This scribe, in using his memory of jumbled facts, thinks this was about barn cats, but the word domestic is part of scribbled note. Cats, barn, dom., pet — that is the whole note.

When the OFs were farming, barn cats were almost necessities to keep the vermin down. These cats were not feral, nor completely tame either. Almost all the OFs who had cats like this had the same stories.

Coming into the stable on a winter morning, sliding back the door, the pleasant aroma of the barn would greet the farmer. Then the rustling of cows in their stanchions as they stirred to get up made the cats jump down from the hip of the cow where they had spent the night in the warmth of the barn. So the day began.

Up against the wall in back of the cows were a few old milk-can lids where the OFs fed these cats milk. Some of the first milk of the day was poured in these lids to keep the cats from bothering the OF while the milking was going on.

This on many farms is all the cats got. This scribe does not remember any OF that bought cat food. The rest of the cat’s sustenance was what they could catch; mice, and the occasional snake or bird was about it.

Most also can’t remember ever having a vet come to check a cat. If the cat had distemper, it went off somewhere and died, or the farmer took care of it himself. 

Each cat had its own personality. The OFs had a wonder on this because most could be petted but not fondled; however, a few could be picked up and liked human attention. Some would come and rub against the farmer’s leg and want to be paid attention to also.

The OFs asked: Why do some cats do that, to which one farmer replied that he thought that was true with all animals. Some tolerated humans but others wanted their attention — not only cats, but dogs, horses, cows and this OF said it even transcended to wild animals.

Then he asked the generic question, “Why is that?” All the OF got was blank looks.

The OFs commented they did have house cats and they were not the same as barn cats, and sometimes the house cat was not wanted by the barn cats and fights would ensue.

A good ole-fashioned cat fight in the middle of the night is an eerie sound. The sound of a cat fight would drown out a siren. One OF claimed one of their house cats was so tough looking from catfights, it was like the cat went out at night just looking for them.

That cats have nine lives is substantiated in one story an OF told, but the story is like a horror story and this scribe does not think it is for the paper. However, the ending is bizarre.

After the cat was presumably dead for some time, the same cat showed up in the barn and went directly to the farmhand who was responsible for the cat’s demise, looked at him, and meowed

The farmhand looked down, saw the cat, and screamed; he jumped up, ran out of the barn and never came back. He was gone.

The OF said he was a good worker, when he was sober, but he had a habit of drinking the tapings of the silo without cutting them one bit. The owner of the farm never bothered tracking him down but later on found out that the farmhand had died in a weird farming accident on another farm.

Many of the Old Men of the Mountain now were not farmers and have missed out on all these warm memories; however all these OMOTM, farmer or not, managed to meet at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown and they were: Miner Stevens, Glenn Patterson, Mark Traver, Joe Rack, Marty Herzog, Jake Herzog, Roger Shafer, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrmann, Gerry Cross, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, John Dab, Rick LaGrange, Paul Guiton, Doug Marshall, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, Paul Whitbeck, and not me.