A bridge for hikers is a bridge to memories
NEW SCOTLAND — The Bender Melon Farm Preserve has special meaning for the Long family.
“When Ryan passed away,” said Timothy Long, pausing to clear his throat as his voice was thick with emotion, “I didn’t sleep for a very long time.”
At any hour of the day or night, he said, he’d throw on his sneakers and hop on his bike — “and I was out here,” he told those who gathered at the preserve on Friday morning.
They were there to honor the memory of Ryan Crannell Long and dedicate a bridge in his name.
He died on Feb. 2, 2021 at the age of 31.
“It’s where I wrote his eulogy and rewrote his eulogy a dozen times,” said Long.
The old farm property, located at the intersections of routes 85 and 85A in the center of New Scotland became the focus of a grassroots uprising over a decade ago when Sphere Development proposed building a 750,000-square-foot mall on the site.
The Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy purchased the 175-acre preserve in 2020 for $1 million to conserve the land, site of a historic melon farm.
The now-conserved property became famous because, at the turn of the last century, Charles Bender grew melons there that were peddled at fine hotels in New York City like the Waldorf-Astoria and the Savoy, according to a history written by Voorheesville village historian, Dennis Sullivan, which was first published in The Enterprise.
About 15 months after his son’s death, Long said, he was at the preserve on a beautiful Sunday morning — “one of those late winter, early spring days, crisp and sunny”
Although he had walked the trail under the bridge hundreds times, on that day Long felt driven to climb the hill to see the century-old bridge.
“I climbed up the hill and I jumped on this thing and it was decrepit …,” he said. “I kind of said, this is the perfect thing to do, to restore for Ryan.”
On his way home, he called his wife, Elizabeth Clyne, to share the idea.
“I recalled a conversation I had had about a year earlier with a friend of mine who also had lost a son,” said Long. His friend had told him that Ryan would reach out to him.
“You don’t know when it’s going to happen …,” his friend told him, “But you need to keep open eyes, open ears … and above all, an open heart.”
Long said that every day, he and his wife, Beth, and their son, Ethan, are reminded of Ryan. Now, he said, when he comes to the restored bridge, “I get a sense of calm. I feel much closer to him. And, most importantly, when I leave here and I walk back home there’s a smile on my face.”
The restored bridge is a meaningful legacy for his son, Long said, for two reasons.
The first is that Ryan loved to learn, to research, and to explore — not just in the classroom but wherever he was. Over the years, when his family would visit him in New York City, Boston, or Washington, D.C., they would follow Ryan’s lead and explore new sites.
“That would never happen without public access,” said Long.
Second, Ryan was someone who, from a very young age, was supportive of others.
“Whether it was in elementary school or high school, a roommate in college or coworkers when he started his professional career, he was always the guy that you could lean on and [who would] lend a shoulder because Ryan’s goal was always to just leave somebody a little bit happier,” said Long.
“I see people here all the time,” said Long of visiting the preserve. “I think a lot of people are here to escape the stresses of their daily life or they’re here with their families to enjoy some time … And I think every person that leaves here, they leave here happier than they were when they got here.”
Long concluded, “Those two legacies are what this bridge represents. And, yeah, we’re going to grieve him for a long time. But, you know, the people that love him and knew him realize that there’s now a symbol and a place to go where they can sort of reconnect with him. And for that, I know our family and his loved ones are forever grateful.”
History
Friday’s ceremony, on a sunny fall day, had begun with Mark King, director of the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy, sharing what history his organization had been able to glean about the bridge.
The bridge links acreage of the preserve cut off by the Albany County Helderberg-Hudson Rail Trail with the main preserve property.
“We have about 45 acres on that side,” said King. “We’ve got about 130 on this side.”
The Delaware & Hudson Railroad built the bridge to connect property bisected by the railroad that opened in 1863.
The original wooden bridge was destroyed by fire in 1925, King said, a common occurrence along railroads when coal was the fuel source for locomotives.
When the restored replacement bridge was recently measured, King said, the level across either end is off by a 100th of an inch. “It’s a well-built structure,” he said.
He spoke a bit about Charles Bender and his famous melons. “His care of his melons and his farm were really legendary,” said King. “People said he treated the melons like his own children.”
One-hundred-and-seven years ago, on Sept. 26, 1917, King said, “There was a huge event here … called the Great Melon Eat. And it was to raise money for the Red Cross during World War I. There were 2,000 people gathered at the farm to eat melons covered with ice cream.
“And the municipal gas company — of course this was before lighting and electricity — they came out and lit the area, a giant red-and-white cross for the Red Cross.”
King also said that Congressman Peter Ten Eyck had a shipment of Bender melons sent to Woodrow Wilson, who was the United States president at the time.
King concluded with a round of thank-yous for members of the county crew who made the restoration possible.
“I really want to personally thank Tim Long and Elizabeth Clyne for turning their loss into a tremendous asset for the community,” he said.
“You see the impact”
Albany County Executive Daniel McCoy gave a brief review of Ryan Long’s life. He had grown up in Bethlehem, attending Slingerlands Elementary School and LaSalle Institute before graduating from Tufts University with a bachelor’s degree and from Georgetown with a master’s degree.
At the time of his death, he worked for the Office of the New York Public Advocate with a broad spectrum of city and state agencies while helping the citizens of the city navigate the complexities of their government, his obituary said.
“They say time heals all wounds,” said McCoy. He termed that sentiment “bullshit.”
What happens over time, McCoy said, is “people feel uncomfortable saying things to you that they don’t want to bring up personal memories.”
Instead, McCoy said, he always advises people to continue to talk about the person who has died, and to continue to tell their stories.
“That person had such an impact from 1990 to 2021 in that short span, that dash between them years….,” McCoy said. “You see the impact such a young man had.”
McCoy also applauded Ryan’s parents. Some people, he said, shut down and just don’t want to deal with their loss. He commended Clyne and Long for being able to “give back and to understand that memory, that legacy is so important.”
McCoy said that generations to come would “read the story” and appreciate the bridge.
He concluded, “Amateurs built the ark, you know; experts built the Titanic.”