“Westmere is lost and McKownville was lost long ago,” said David Bourque, who has lived in Guilderland for 50 years, the last 30 in Altamont. “Voorheesville is on the cusp of being lost to suburbia …. We want to protect Altamont’s unique character.”
“There was considerable enthusiasm shown,” The Enterprise reported the day after the charter meeting, “and the boys all enjoyed the excellent talks given by” a group of local dignitaries. “Considerable enthusiasm” is expected once again as Helderberg Post 977 is due to celebrate its centennial with a formal dinner on Nov. 3.
Aaron Mair says “The 200th anniversary is not just a celebration but a marker on how far we need to go. There is still work to be done for a more perfect union.”
Sullivan’s book quotes the Enterprise’s Voorheesville correspondent: “A new fad is taking place in this village. For instance, if a person happens to indulge too much in a certain drink and gets in a comatose condition, some of the ‘smart ones’ applies a mixture of oil and lampblack to their physiognomy.” Sullivan likens this to tarring and feathering on the streets of Voorheesville.
Guilderland’s current supervisor, Peter Barber, noted that McKown had served as the town’s supervisor for just over a decade until 1824 and then, 100 years later, the association was formed. “We’re now here,” said Barber, a century after that.
No sign saying that Schuyler was one of the largest slaveholders in the area would justify the statue’s placement in front of a public hall for a city of citizens that includes many who are descendants of slaves whose labors increased the wealth of the city, the county, the state, and the nation — with no just returns.
While there is still much to be done, much has been accomplished during the Clarksville Historical Society’s near-decade-long project to preserve preservation
Asked how she comes up with these untold stories and makes them into compelling narratives, Mary Ellen Johnson said, “I’m like a little beagle following a bunny ….”
History matters. The stories we tell ourselves about our nation or our town can define who we are — as a people and as individuals. As journalists at The Enterprise, we are authors of the first draft of local history. But what gets remembered, plucked out later, selected over time, to create a narrative of who we are?
