Unlike the current controversy that swirls around Columbus and the impact of his voyages, to Americans in 1892 Columbus represented the heroism of a great explorer whose discoveries were considered the first beginnings of our great country.

The nation went all out to celebrate the 400th anniversary of his voyages with events ranging from patriotic programs in schools, to  parades, erection of Columbus statues, the issuance of special United States commemorative stamps and coinage, and President Benjamin Harrison’s declaration of Oct. 21 as a national holiday honoring what was considered Columbus’s discovery of America.

Guilderland joined in with other Americans participating in commemorative activities.

That March, a message appeared in New York State’s newspapers, including The Enterprise, directed at teachers alerting them to the “National Columbus Public School Celebration to be held on October 12, 1892.”  New York State Superintendent of Public Instruction Andrew Draper concluded by hoping that “trustees, parents, pupils and all will join to make this one of the greatest celebrations of the age.”

The pressure was on for teachers to plan public displays of student programs to instruct and entertain parents and townspeople.

When Oct. 12 rolled around, Altamont’s school children came through, earning much praise from the spectators who attended their program. Urged by The Enterprise to attend “to encourage teachers and pupils by your presence,” residents were not disappointed by the performance as students sang national airs and gave recitations with many of them in costume as they acted out dialogues.

Over at the small Fullers one-room school, children also put on a well-received program described by the Fullers correspondent as a “literary entertainment.” There were pupils marching, singing, and wearing costumes and the program ended with a dialogue of three pupils representing Liberty, George Washington, and Uncle Sam.

At the conclusion of the program, a flag was unfurled. Observing all of this was a “host of visiting relatives and friends of the children,” all praising the pupils’ performances.

Even the tiny Settles Hill School entertained their neighbors and parents with various exercises, ending with the unfurling of a flag for their audience. Guilderland Center pupils also raised a new flag after previous fundraising.

While no other reports of school performances appeared in The Enterprise, it seems there were probably programs on Oct. 12 in the town’s other schools as well since marking the event seemed to be a mandate from above.

Albany celebrates

When the Oct. 21 legal holiday arrived, Albany marked it with an all-day celebration featuring a series of parades, beginning in the morning with a firemen’s parade, followed in the afternoon with a military and civic parade, and closing the holiday that evening in a torchlight illuminated bicycle parade, bicycles being a new fad in 1892.

In one of the day’s earlier parades, the Altamont Band performed, The Enterprise commenting the next week, “representing our village, in company of the crack bands of the City, we feel proud of them.”

For this occasion, the D&H ran a special early morning excursion train into Albany making stops all along the line, including at Altamont and Meadowdale, with a return trip that night leaving Albany at 11:15 p.m.

The Enterprise weighed in the next week, writing, “Our Village was well represented at the Columbus celebrations in Albany and all seemed pleased with the exercises.”

Columbian Exposition

The next year, Chicago was the destination of many adventurous Guilderland residents who, along with millions of other Americans, journeyed to see the wonders of the Columbian Exposition. The culmination of the 400th anniversary celebrations of Columbus’s discovery, it was the greatest world’s fair of its time.

This international exposition, displaying 65,000 exhibits in buildings covering 686 acres, ran from May 1, when it was opened by President Grover Cleveland, until Oct. 31, 1893.

It’s no wonder that Guilderland’s Barney Fredendall commented upon his return home from the fair, “It will take two years to see it all.”

Organizers of the fair realized that attracting large numbers of visitors was essential to its success. While “hype” may be a modern term, those 19th-Century businessmen seemed to grasp the concept.

A steady stream of press releases, accompanied by woodcut illustrations of buildings and attractions were sent out to 30,000 U.S. and Canadian newspapers to stir up excitement among their readers.

The Altamont Enterprise was apparently on the mailing list, running frequent, lengthy front-page articles with headlines such as “The Rush at Chicago,” “Getting Ready For the Opening of the Fair,” “The Fair is Ready,” “The Fair is Open,” “The Great Fair — Bewildering and Amazing Midway Pleasures,” and “The Great Fair — Its Fascinating Beauty Under Summer Skies.”

How to get from Guilderland to Chicago and at what expense were the prospective fairgoers’ first considerations. The writer of The Enterprise’s “Village and Town” column asked readers, “Are you going to the Fair? If so, you should see the inducements offered by the World’s Fair Excursion and Hotel Association. For particulars apply at the Enterprise Office.”

An alternative choice came from Ferguson and Wormer in Voorheesville whose Enterprise ad invited those wishing to view the fair to join the World’s Fair Association to “save money and secure comfortable hotel rooms.”

Both of the railroads serving Guilderland advertised in The Enterprise special rates to travel to the Midwest. For $16.50, the D&H offered a round-trip ticket for Chicago-bound passengers willing to take specially scheduled excursion trains. One left Altamont at noon, Monday, July 24.

After transferring to the Erie Railroad at Binghamton, the travelers arrived in Chicago at 4:15 p.m. the next day. Passengers must have reached their destination with the 1893 version of jet lag after riding sitting up on day coaches throughout the 28-hour trip.

More affluent fairgoers could travel on a regularly scheduled train, paying for a $26.50 ticket that included sleeper-car accommodations. The D&H assured ladies traveling alone that special preparations were made for their convenience and comfort.

Guilderland Center and Fullers Station’s depots were on the route of the West Shore. A West Shore ad during the last weeks of the fair offered special rates on “magnificent excursion trains,” the special round-trip ticket from New York City for $17, which was proportionately reduced from stops along the way.

Travelers would be accompanied by a West Shore agent who would advise regarding accommodations in Chicago and point out the sights along the way. Fares on both railroads dropped during the last weeks of the fair in the autumn.

Upon arrival in Chicago, a fortunate few were able to stay with relatives living in the area as did Fullers Station’s Mrs. Charles Decker and her daughter Cora. The Misses Anna and Lulu Lockwood of Altamont planned to visit with their brother Dr. John F. Lockwood, “his home being a few miles from Chicago.”

The Enterprise editor John D. Ogsbury recommended the “commodious quarters” provided by Mr. and Mrs. Edward Hart, former Guilderland residents, and stayed with them himself when he and his wife spent 10 days at the fair in July. However, most of the visitors stayed in various hotels.

A great number of those Guilderland residents who had the stamina and the money to attend the fair did so. By May 19, The Enterprise editor commented that “a number of residents in the vicinity have registered for the World’s Fair trip.”

During the summer, he noted, “The matter of a visit to the World’s Fair is becoming an epidemic.” Throughout the summer, the local columns in The Enterprise mentioned names of those who had departed for the exposition.

In October, the editor noted, “It has been computed that 45 persons from this incorporated village attended the world’s fair during the past few months. With those who live in the immediate vicinity, we have done remarkably well to swell the crowds at the exposition.”

An informal survey of other Enterprise columns during the fair’s operation shows mentions of McKownville sending five plus family members, three from Meadowdale, 25 from Guilderland Center, eight from Fullers, five from Guilderland, and four from Dunnsville. Surely there were others whose names weren’t in the paper or one name was listed when that person was accompanied by other family members.

After these fairgoers paid their 50-cent admission, what was there to do and see? Huge buildings lined a lagoon where visitors could be enlightened about the latest technology, and for many it must have been their first encounter with electricity.

Fair visitors could view exhibits from places as diverse as Turkey, New South Wales, or Ceylon and could observe natives from many areas.

Probably most fairgoers would have agreed that the Midway Plaisance was the best part of the fair. That new invention, the Ferris wheel was the hit of the exposition, standing 264 feet high with 3- foot cars, each holding 60 people, powered by huge engines.

Another popular attraction was a captive balloon ride that took brave souls 1,500 feet above the fairgrounds. There were restaurants with foreign foods, Algerian and Egyptian belly dancers, and an ostrich farm — the list of attractions was endless.

John D. Ogsbury’s lengthy letter from Chicago describing the fair marveled at the Ferris wheel although he chose not to try the ride. He mentioned the various buildings holding exhibits and was fascinated with the New York Central Railroad exhibit of Engine 999 that had recently broken the all-time speed record parked next to the DeWitt Clinton, the original train that first ran in New York State.  

Many people remained at home, tied down with responsibilities, lacking the money, or were not well enough to travel that far and cover the extensive grounds of the fair.

They could view it all vicariously by attending events such as the “grand panoramic exhibition of the World’s Fair” at the Reformed Church when an entertainment under the auspices of Messrs. Felkins and Shafer of Albany would show a complete photographic panorama of “the marvelous buildings, exhibits, scenes and surroundings of the World’s Columbian Exhibition.”

Admission was 25 cents for adults and 15 cents for children under 12.

For those fortunate enough to have visited the exposition, it was the experience of a lifetime. Christian Hartman probably was typical of fairgoers, returning home “delighted” with his experiences, while Maggie Hurst said, “The fair is great and everyone ought to see it.” 

The celebration had come to an end, and Columbus Day became a fixture in American life until recent years when controversy has arisen about Columbus and his holiday with a movement among some to replace it with Indigenous Peoples Day.

The delicious prospect of enjoying a frequent, inexpensive dish of ice cream or a glass of soda became reality for young and old alike during the last quarter of the 19th century. By 1900 these treats had become an established part of American life.

Ice cream was originally a luxurious dessert for the wealthy few — think George Washington or Thomas Jefferson. In 1843, an ice-cream churn using ice and salt as a way to chill ice cream was patented and over the next few decades  improvements on this basic idea resulted in the ice-cream freezer, a hand-cranked churn that, with the aid  of salt and ice, made ice cream available for the masses.

By 1897, the Altamont Hardware Store advertised, among other merchandise items, an ice-cream freezer. That same year, the Sears catalog, the Amazon of its day, pictured an ice-cream freezer that came in seven sizes ranging from two quarts to 14 quarts with list prices ranging from $1.43 to $6.04.

A few years later it was possible to buy an even larger freezer that made 30 quarts. Being that so many Guilderland residents owned one or more cows and an ice house, ice cream could be made as a special treat at home, though the hand cranking of the freezer was tedious and took strength.

Local churches found serving ice cream at socials a profitable fundraiser that proved to be a popular scene for socializing, especially among the young. “The young ladies of the [Guilderland Center] Lutheran congregation sell a large quantity of excellent ice cream at their new hall Saturday evenings. Their unaffected politeness and winsome cheery ways causes the boys to purchase several dishes during the evening,” The Enterprise reported.

Youth groups such as Christian Endeavor in Meadowdale sold ice cream at the Gardner Road Schoolhouse, while in Guilderland Center the Christian Endeavor group’s ice cream sales took in $50 in a month.

Church lawns and church halls all over town held ice-cream socials. In spring, a special attraction was the ripening of local strawberries that were served along with the ice cream.

In June 1901, the State Road Methodist Church at Parkers Corners offered a strawberry and ice-cream festival for the benefit of the church, one of many churches and temperance groups that organized ice-cream social fund raisers. An annual tradition was the Hamlet of Guilderland’s Presbyterian Church and the Good Templars, a temperance organization which met at Red Men’s Hall, each offering ice cream and strawberries on Memorial Day after the ceremonies at Prospect Hill Cemetery.

Occasionally church ladies such as those from the McKownville Methodist Church held an ic- cream social on a congregant’s lawn, having scheduled one at the home of G.A. Manville and his wife in 1907 and cordially inviting the public to attend.

Guilderland Center’s St. Mark’s Lutheran Church seemed to have served ice cream on Saturdays all summer each year. One 1907 August “Saturday night was certainly the record breaker for the sale ice cream at the Lutheran Hall, $35.80 and could have easily been brought up to $40 had the ice cream held out. As it was quite a few were turned away disappointed.”

Unless they used commercially made ice cream, churches must have been one of the buyers of the 14- or 20-quart ice-cream freezers and depended on some strong men of the congregation to crank up all that ice cream.

Hotels took notice of ice cream’s popularity, often announcing that at times on Saturdays or Sundays they would be offering ice cream in their parlors. Both summer visitors and locals alike could stop by Altamont’s Union Hotel, Guilderland Center’s Fowler’s Hotel, or the Dunnsville Hotel among others.

A few ladies advertised in the 1880s that they were serving ice cream for customers at their homes, but that did not seem to have caught on. Also in the 1880s, Ogsbury’s Dairy advertised it had an ice-cream parlor open where they were serving ice cream as well as having a soda fountain.

In addition, ice cream was available for purchase in pint, quart, or gallon sizes. The venture seemed to have lasted only one year.

The Novelty Store, opening in Altamont in 1908, offered both Colburn’s Ice Cream and Deitz soda in an area set aside in the new store. Colburn’s ice cream seems to have been commercially made, an activity in cities as early as 1851. Certainly by 1900, ice cream was no longer a novelty, but had become a common part of American life, at least in summer.

Soda subs for liquor

With the temperance movement gaining strength decade by decade, especially in rural areas, soda was increasingly considered a worthy substitute for alcoholic beverages, and in fact Hires Root Beer, developed from a tea made of various roots and herbs by Charles Hires in 1876, was originally advertised as “The National Temperance Drink.”

Many small-scale soda manufacturing operations began about this time, among them Alansen F. Deitz’s. He first established his soda-making business in East Worcester, Otsego County, then moved his business to Guilderland Center in 1873.

His production there included sarsaparilla, ginger ale, seltzer, and birch beer. He had developed a new improved soda bottle stopper seal, which he patented and which would preserve the effervescence in his soda created from infusions of carbon dioxide.

Various herbs and roots provided the raw materials for his flavorings. Burdock root for example was supposed to have been an important ingredient of root beer, which he does not seem to have bottled. Today his formulas for other varieties of sodas aren’t known.

As soon as The Knowersville Enterprise began publication in 1884, A.F. Deitz frequently advertised his wares, sold in clearly marked glass bottles sealed with his patented stopper. Several of these bottles with various locations imprinted in the glass where they were filled survive.

Each held about an eight-ounce cup of soda. With the rapid growth of Knowersville and its rail line, probably recognizing it would be a better market for his soda, Deitz in1885 moved his operation to Knowersville’s Church Street, which is now Maple Avenue.

There he remained in business until 1909. At first he advertised the flavors he was producing, but when his soda’s popularity took off, Deitz no longer had to advertise and his Enterprise ads disappeared.

Americans had developed a taste for soda as soon as it became readily available. Within two years of relocating to Knowersville, Deitz added 26 gross [3,744] bottles to his operation.

The Enterprise pointed out that he was “daily receiving orders from different stations along the railroad and his business was increasing materially.” Within a few years, Dietz purchased an additional $800 worth of bottles.

“Mr. Deitz puts up a nice line of goods and increasing trade is the result,” The Enterprise reported. The paper referred to Deitz as “the pop-man” in one reference when he purchased an additional horse for deliveries.

The price charged for a bottle of his soda is unknown; it is also not known if there was a deposit on his bottles or if he reused them. To produce soda at that time, it was common practice to steep or simmer in water the natural ingredients, add sugar, and then put in additional water to bring it to the desired intensity. Finally, the fluid was carbonated and bottled. Soda brands still favorites today were developed during those years: Pepsi Cola, Orange Crush, Dr. Pepper, Hires Root Beer, and Coca Cola.

They became known as soft drinks, promoted by temperance organizations as the alternative to alcohol, known as hard drinks.

The A.F. Deitz soda business prospered throughout the 1890s and early 1900s. In 1892, mention was made of the elaborate advertising calendar Deitz was offering customers, “one of the prettiest calendars we have seen this year.” Described as “our wide-awake manufacturer of mineral waters.” In the mid1890s there appeared a notice, “if your appetite is poor, try a bottle of Deitz’s Bozendale Appetizer, made from roots. For sale by A.F. Deitz, Altamont, N.Y.”

A notice inserted in the Dec. 18, 1906 Enterprise warned, “The young men who took A.F. Deitz’s road wagon from under his shed Hallowe’en night must settle for breaking it to pieces. They can settle for $10 now before any costs come by law. You had the pleasure of destroying the wagon, you will also have the pleasure of paying for the same.”

The year 1908 was not a good one for Deitz; he had been in a serious accident returning home from a business trip to New Salem. His team took a fright, bolted, and, when one horse fell, Mr. Deitz was thrown to the ground. He broke bones and was badly bruised, but his horses and wagon were unharmed.

The year before, one of his employees was on his way to Voorheesville to deliver soda when the team became skittish and overturned the wagon with the loss of several cases of bottles. Whether these accidents influenced his decisions is unknown but in 1909 Deitz sold his soda business to Sands Bros. who moved it to Park Street. They delivered the soda by motor truck.

Meanwhile, soda fountains had become a popular feature of drug stores and at times had been installed in some general stores. As early as 1885, The Enterprise observed that “large quantities of soda are sold daily at the Knowersville drug store.” 

Within two years, owners “Mssrs. Davenport & Frederick” invested in a “very attractive soda fountain” made of marble. The Enterprise observed, “They always draw a very nice glass of soda,” predicting a new flavor would be added soon.

Blood orange syrup was added to their flavors, and two years later the paper stated, “Our druggists are receiving many complimentary remarks from city people boarding in our village in regard to the superior quality of the soda they draw.” In the hamlet of Guilderland at Carpenter’s store, a soda fountain had been added and was described as well patronized.

By 1900, America’s love affair with sweets really had taken off. Once it was realized the profits to be made, church ladies and small local bottling companies were pushed out of the way by commercial production of ice cream and soda

 Soda certainly benefited from the temperance movement and later Prohibition, while the development of electric refrigeration contributed to ice-cream production and distribution.

For decades in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, late spring and early summer warm weather’s return brought several wealthy, prominent Albany families to the escarpment above Altamont to reopen their summer “cottages.”

Well known in their day, these affluent summer residents are long forgotten except for John Boyd Thacher whose name is attached to the nearby state park, although few know why or who he was or are aware of his association with Altamont.

A very wealthy man, Thacher’s affluence was derived from Thacher Car Works, founded in 1852 by his father in the north end of Albany. Manufacturing wheels for railroad cars including the New York Central System was a huge and very profitable business. As his father aged, Thacher and his brother became actively engaged in running the company.

Political involvement came next, a natural since Thacher’s father had served as Albany’s mayor during the Civil War years and after. A Democrat, John Boyd Thacher was first elected to the State Senate in l883 where he introduced legislation to construct a new capital building for one million dollars.

Next, he served as mayor of Albany in l886 when he organized a grand celebration on the occasion of the bicentennial of Albany’s city charter. After his term of office ended in l888, his involvement with politics continued as president of the New York State League of Democratic Clubs. He served a second term as Albany’s mayor in l896.

Attracting international attention, the Columbian Exposition, held in Chicago in l893, was a huge world’s fair attended by large crowds. Thacher became widely known when New York Governor David Bennett Hill appointed him to the commission to organize the New York State exhibit. He was also named national chairman of the awards committee for the exposition.

Interest in historical scholarship and research was another aspect of John Boyd Thacher’s personality. A discriminating collector of autographs, historical documents, manuscripts, and papers relating to the French Revolution, he was well known for his collection of l5th Century printed first editions called incunabula.

Much of his collection was donated after his death to the Library of Congress. In addition, he was the author of books on Shakespeare, Christopher Columbus, and a volume describing the evolution of maps depicting America during the early years of exploration. He made several trips abroad to do original research. At the time of his death in 1909, Thacher was in the midst of writing a book about the French Revolution.

Time in the Helderbergs

In the 1890s, John Boyd Thacher and his wife, Emma Treadwell Thacher, had begun to spend time in the Helderbergs above Altamont, their presence sometimes mentioned in The Enterprise. The date of his first visit isn’t known although an 1895 comment in The Enterprise noted that “John Boyd Thacher who has been spending the summer on the mountain near the village, has been nominated by the Democrats of Albany for mayor.”

An 1897 Enterprise article, “A Serious Runaway,” noted that John Boyd and Emma Treadwell Thacher had stayed “at the white cottage near the Kushaqua Hotel for the past several summers when describing a terrible accident involving a team belonging to Altamont liveryman Peter Hilton.

Just as Hilton was about to load some of Thacher’s luggage, the horses bolted, the runaways wrecking a buckboard owned by Judge Rufus W. Peckham, seriously injuring his two employees, and minutes later resulting in the death of one of Hilton’s horses. Thacher generously offered to pay for the buckboard, though no mention was made of the liveryman’s horse.

In November 1900, a news item reported that Thacher had purchased the late Paul Cushman’s summer home visible from the Kushaqua. Paul Cushman, an Albany merchant, had built the cottage in 1893, but sadly died there during the summer of 1895.

Thacher hired Albany contractors Feeney & Sheehan to do carpentry work on both the interior and exterior including the addition of a large extension. George Weaver, an Altamont mason, was employed to do the stonework.

In addition, Thacher intended to cut a private road beginning on Helderberg Avenue opposite Hellenbeck’s furniture store (now Fredendall Funeral Home) running up the gulch to his new home. Land had been purchased from George Severson for this purpose.

Altamont benefited economically from the demands for goods and services made by Thacher and other members of the summer colony above the village. Liverymen Peter Hilton and others were in demand to move people including the Thachers and their luggage for trips up and down from the depot before the automobile came into use.

Later Peter Hilton (though this may not be the same man as the liveryman) was the overseer at the Thacher summer property. Alvin Wagner replaced him after having earlier worked for Thacher doing projects at the cottage. He used materials purchased from Altamont’s Crannell Lumber Yard as was noted in The Enterprise.

Robert Thornton, who had recently established a stable at Altamont Driving Park and Fair Grounds, was in business training several well bred horses including a “handsome young horse belonging to Mayor Thacher of Albany.” This may have been “Nancy May,” Thacher’s horse that won a race run during an event of the Altamont Hose Company’s Field Day in 1896.

Thacher was also one of the group of summer cottage owners who formed a syndicate to buy the Helderberg Inn when there was concern it would fall into the wrong hands.

An 1897 article, “As Others See Us,” originally published in the Albany Sunday Press, reprinted in The Enterprise, included this line: “Not the least of Altamont’s charms is the delightful possibilities for social intercourse due to the presence of so many Albany families who occupy cottages there.

 Among the list of summer residents, John Boyd Thacher’s name was included. However, if there were any local residents who may have had social contact with Thacher, there was never any word of it in print, unlike business contacts.

Preservation

One guest whose name did make the paper, although certainly not a local resident, was David B. Hill, former governor and former United States senator, a man very involved with Democratic politics. It was during Hill’s administration that land began to be set aside in the Adirondacks to preserve its wilderness. Perhaps Hill’s action had some influence on Thacher’s desire to preserve the area around Indian Ladder.

Thacher intended to continue his stay at his summer home as long as the weather remained warm, according to a note in an October 1906 Enterprise issue. He was always one of the last of the summer colony to return to the city, one of the “old Altamonters” as the writer referred to him.

October, when the autumn foliage was at its best, was according to Thacher, one of the most pleasant times of the year there. In his later years, Thacher settled into the routine of spending part of the year in Europe, adding to his collections while doing research; part of the year at his South Hawk Street home in Albany; and the summer and early autumn at his country home in Altamont.

Thacher began to take a real interest in the preservation of the historic and scenic area of Indian Ladder. At that time, much of the area around the top of the escarpment in the area of Indian Ladder had long been cleared and were hardscrabble farms that farmers were all too willing to sell.

A 1906 acquisition was detailed in The Enterprise when Thacher’s purchase included the C.F. Dearstyne farm along the top of Indian Ladder and a strip of land “some 60 acres in extent” of Simon Winne along the top of the mountain, this adjoining the Dearstyne property on the north. In addition he was in the process of negotiating for the purchase of a private road to the east end of Thompson’s Lake.

That same year, an Albany Argus article reprinted in The Enterprise, told that he had conferred with John M. Clarke, the New York State geologist, regarding his planned geological exploration of caves on the tract of land that Thacher had recently purchased. According to the article, this area was claimed to be “the richest and most interesting to geologists in this section of the country.” 

This 1905 article already announced, “Mr. Thacher is anxious that this part of the mountain he owns shall be preserved from the ravages of man.” And, before his death, he and his wife, Emma Treadwell Thacher, had agreed that the land on the escarpment he had acquired be turned over to New York State. In the meantime, he allowed the public to visit the land he’d purchased.

Thacher died at his Albany home on Feb. 25, 1909. The Enterprise remarked, “Altamont loses another of her esteemed summer residents. He had been ill for more than a year past, being confined to the house most of the past summer while a resident here ….”

His widow continued to use the summer cottage for a few years. In 1914, she transferred to New York State the 350-acre parcel of the escarpment land, preserving a spectacular scenic and historic area combined with a huge number of fossils and deep caves.

It now became officially a state park and appropriately named John Boyd Thacher State Park. On the September 1914 day of the park’s dedication, Governor Martin Henry Glynn and the official party first arrived at the Thacher cottage where lunch was served before the group, accompanied by Emma Treadwell Thacher, went to the park for the dedication.

Finally, in July 2001, Emma Treadwell Thacher’s generosity in carrying out her husband’s wishes to donate this special area to the state for public use was recognized with the opening of a nature center named in her honor.

Eventually the Thacher cottage was sold to the Sewell family of Albany. After 1950, the cottage sat empty, abandoned, stripped of fixtures, and vandalized.

In the early 1960s, the property was purchased by the LaSalette Fathers whose seminary had been erected on the site of the old Kushaqua Hotel nearby. Wishing to erect a modern building on the site, the old cottage now described as “an eyesore” had to go.

The decision was made to remove it by burning it down as a firemen’s exercise. And so on Jan. 30, 1965, the “White House of Highpoint” came to a sad end. John Boyd Thacher’s last connection to Altamont was gone.

Rising in wetlands near Duanesburg, the Normanskill flows 45.4 miles downstream through the towns of Guilderland, New Scotland, and Bethlehem to its confluence with the Hudson River.

Native Americans called the stream Tawasentha or “place of the dead,” a name inspired by a sacred native burial ground near its mouth. Here they found abundant food supplies in its pristine waters and along its wooded banks, their presence proven by the numerous archeological remains found nearby.

Change came with the arrival of the Dutch in the early years of the 17th century. When, in the 1630s, Albert Andriessen Bradt established a mill at the creek’s mouth, the stream became known to European settlers as Norman’s Kill due to the Norwegian ancestry of Bradt, called the “Norman.” With the advent of the fur trade, the waterway became a major Native American trading route to Fort Orange where Albany is today.

Sometime before his death in 1734, Evert Bancker, the former Albany mayor and merchant, came up the Normanskill to establish what was likely the first farm in Guilderland. It was located along the creek approximately across from the entrance to modern-day Tawasentha Park. (A state historic marker denotes the place.)

He was followed by settlers such as Jacob Vrooman and Abraham Wemple who also established farms on the fertile lands along the waterway in the years before the American Revolution. Eighteenth-Century settlers were described as “of the Normanskill” in the absence of a more specific address.

After the Revolution, the fertile soil produced huge quantities of broom corn. Later farmers switched to hay, oats, and rye.

Frenchs Hollow

The waters of the melting Ice Age glacier had cut through bedrock to create a ravine that by 1800 had become known as Frenchs Hollow. Named after Abel French who, having taken advantage of the water power, had begun operating grist and saw mills in this location by the end of the 18th Century.

The grist mill remained in operation here until the early 20th Century. French’s early textile mill failed, replaced by Peter K. Broeck’s larger textile mill, erected nearby.

After the factory failed, the empty building became used for social gatherings until the turn of the 20th Century. The hollow itself was a place of natural beauty where generations of Guilderland residents fished, swam, and picnicked.

Watervliet seeks clean water

During the first decade of the 20th Century, typhoid had become an increasingly serious health issue in the city of Watervliet as the result of contamination of the city’s water supply. Watervliet’s water source was then the Mohawk River near Dunsbach Ferry, water which had become more impure as the upstream cities and industry expanded.

Searching for a replacement source of safe, pure water, in 1912 or 1913 the city fixed on the Normanskill in Guilderland where it would be practical to dam the Frenchs Hollow ravine. In addition, the area to be flooded behind the dam was relatively inexpensive farmland that could be acquired by eminent domain if necessary.

The Watervliet City Council agreed to purchase the land projected to be about 700 acres necessary for “not less than $477,000 or more than $562,000.”

November 1913 brought news in The Enterprise that surveyors were working at Frenchs Hollow because of Watervliet’s plans to locate a dam there. Yet the next summer, the project did not seem final when the Enterprise stated, “The City of Watervliet is again agitating the question of securing a new water supply from French’s Mills.”

A 1914 map entitled “Map of Watervliet, NY & Vicinity showing proposed Municipal Water Supply from the Normanskill at Frenchs Mills” was published. Watervliet taxpayers seemed to be objecting because of the high cost of securing water privileges and acquiring land, while the Watervliet Hydraulic Company, apparently a private entity supplying Watervliet’s water from the Mohawk, was also opposed.

A major expense had been added to the project when the New York State Conservation Department insisted on a requirement for the project that a filtration plant had to be constructed in addition to the dam and the infrastructure needed to pipe the water from the reservoir to the city of Watervliet. The cost of the whole project was estimated by the Enterprise’s editor to possibly run as high as $500,000.

The next year, 1915, brought another surveying crew who put up at Borst’s Hotel in Guilderland Center. Once Watervliet had acquired the old French property at the hollow, officials next purchased the nearby farms of Richard Van Heusen and Herman Vincent just outside of Guilderland Center.

A few months later, the notices of auctions scheduled to take place at their soon-to-be vacated farms for the dispersal of their farm equipment were advertised.

Construction underway

By then, the contract to construct a concrete dam 35 feet high at the hollow had been awarded to a New York City firm and work had begun by 1916. A notice of a man’s death on the West Shore tracks identified him as a “laborer on the construction work of the new reservoir for the City of Watervliet at Frenchs Hollow.”

Considering that, except for steam shovels and possibly dynamite, other work had to be done with hand tools, this was a major construction project that would take many months. The derelict factory building was demolished and a pumping station built on its site. The dam seemed to have been completed by 1917 at the latest.

Acquisition of more than 600 acres of land along the Normanskill and the Bozenkill, a major tributary, was necessary. Land purchases were still being negotiated in 1916 when the Enterprise editor commented that the price of farmland “has taken a big jump lately on account of the building of the new Watervliet Reservoir and dam.”

His update noted that some farms had been acquired or were about to be acquired. In the area which would become the upper end of the reservoir, a farmer named John Moore planned to relocate to a farm at Parkers Corners and at least three members of the Sharp family lost all or part of their ancestral farms.

Holdouts

However, members of the Woodrich family, the last owners of the historic Wemple farm in Fullers, were not about to be forced to give up their approximately 56 acres plus without a fight.

Designated the “Wodrich Estate” in the Enterprise’s two mentions of this dispute, Guilderland historian Arthur Gregg later identified the last owner of the historic property as Richard Woodrich.

The family seemed to be from out of town, seeing as they had not only hired two Albany lawyers, but additionally a New York City law firm to fight the proposed acquisition or possibly the price the Watervliet officials offered to pay for their land. Another lawyer represented the property’s tenant.

To settle the dispute, the Albany County Court appointed a three-man committee including William Brinkman of Dunnsville to view the property and take testimony. The matter went to the New York State Supreme Court where the Watervliet Water Board requested the condemnation of the Woodrich property.

With the city having the power of eminent domain, the Woodrich family didn’t stand a chance. The final outcome of the case received no mention in the Enterprise. In the 1930s, Gregg mentioned that the Woodrich Estate received $16,000 for 60 acres with the family retaining that part of the property along Route 20.

Writing in “Old Hellebergh,” Chapter 18, Gregg offered a poignant description of the demolition of that treasure of Guilderland’s heritage, the 18th-Century Wemple homestead:

“…The house was built by the Vroomans in 1780 out of very large, extra sized brick made right there out of the clay from the bank near the barn. Some of you witnessed the destruction of this solid old house at the construction of the reservoir twenty-five years ago, and marveled at its workmanship. The farm was known at various periods as the Wemple, the Sigsbee, the Myers Farm, and, at the time of the flooding, belonged to Frederick Woodrich.”

The town of Guilderland recently refurbished an historical marker to denote the site.

Election Day 1918 found Frederick J. Van Wormer seeking re-election as Guilderland town supervisor. A Republican Party advertisement characterized him as a “scrapper” for having taken on the city of Watervliet, managing to get the city to restore the damage done to town highways in the process of construction of the dam.

Also, never mentioned, but pipes had to be laid across town land and Route 20 to bring the water to Watervliet. In addition, the state of New York was forced to build a new higher iron bridge at the upper end of the reservoir due to the rising water levels at the point of the Normanskill’s flow into the reservoir where the Osborn Corners-Schenectady Road crossed it.

Now Route 158, the road had already become a state route at the time of the dam’s construction.

What right did Watervliet have to come into Guilderland, build a reservoir here ,and force local farmers to give up their farms? Obviously an agreement was made with the Guilderland Town Board in 1912 or 1913, but the details are unavailable.

Riparian rights?

In the years after 1960, when Guilderland’s rapid growth sent town officials on a quest for additional water supplies, the Watervliet Reservoir was again in the news. A statement by Guilderland Town Supervisor Carl J. Walters in 1977 announced that the town was limited by law as to how much water it could purchase from Watervliet.

He claimed, “This limitation of 2,000,000 gallons per day was set many years ago when Watervliet purchased the reservoir from the town. Hindsight tells us that the sale of the water supply was not a prudent move by the local officials at the time.”

The late Fred Abele, a very reliable local historian, focused on a different aspect when he claimed in a 1984 “McKownville: News and Comment” column that Watervliet had retained riparian rights dating from the time of the formation of the town of Guilderland in 1803.

(In 1788, the state of New York divided the entire state into towns; the town of Watervliet included most of what is now Albany county as well as most of what is now Niskayuna in Schenectady county.)

Apparently, when the town of Guilderland was created from the town of Watervliet, the water rights did not automatically pass to the new town. Noting he had been a member of the townwide Water Advisory Board for a number of years, perhaps Mr. Abele had access to information not generally known.

This legal point may be the reason why the Guilderland Town Board members of 1912 or 1913 acquiesced when the city of Watervliet announced its intention to create a reservoir in the midst of our town.

Today, a portion of Guilderland’s water supply comes from the reservoir. In addition, a hydroelectric plant generates power on the site. Perhaps, in the long run, it has worked out for the best for both Watervliet and Guilderland that the reservoir was created on the Normanskill.