By Morris Rote-Rosen
Walter Davies of Detroit wants to go along on a trip to Bull Frog Hollow through the "Main Street" column ... We leave Granville on our bike as we head east towards the Vermont state line ... And as we turn the corner, off the main highway, for the Hollow, we are waved along our way by Culver Brown and Walter Oakman ... It is a perfect October day ... The blue sky is dotted with silvery clouds scattered in broken fragments here and there ... And a robin who missed the train for the south crosses our path, reluctant to leave behind the splashes of gold, bronze and scarlet of the autumn woods.
+++
Horse shoe prints in the dry, dirty winding road indicates a horseman has passed this way .. Perhaps Harry Weinberg on his "Patriot" ... Fred Dickinson comes along and stops to talk about his Rhode Island red pullets ... Which bring him six dozen eggs daily ... And out of forty-four pullets, Fred boasts he gathered forty-three eggs in one day ... We continue on our way as we shade our eyes to look up and see a silver plane in the sky overhead as it disappears into the horizon ... "Want a ride?" shouts a voice ... Evan Morris and his son Harold going to the lake to close up their cottage for the winter.
+++
A gun shot echoes from the woods along the Frog Hollow road ... Hunting season is on and cock pheasants are going into hiding ... Though they are plentiful before the season opens ... Wise birds! ... A woodpecker, from an old birch tree telegraphs his dots and dasher for his dinner ... And the hayfields all around appear with their fresh cut G.I. haircuts ... The lone crow sentinel, on a pine tree top, excitedly sends out a false alarm of danger to his flock at our approach ... The sun rays weaving shadowy lace through the thinning tree branches.
+++
A chipmunk, jowls bulging with storage food for the coming winter months, scampers into the brush ... And a roly-poly woodchuck, fat rippling in waves, rises on his hind legs and drops into his hole of hibernation to wait for his shadow next spring ... We were right. Harry Weinberg on his horse "Patriot" is slowly climbing the hilly road coming from the lake .... He stops and gives us a discourse from the saddle on farming, United Nations and communism ... And is on his way ... So are we.
+++
As we near the lake, Walter, the bell of a stray cow brings back memories of the bell of the little red school house ... Cottages are putting up their shutters for the winter ... And now boats are resting upside down for a well earned rest ... We pass "Idylwild" and silently creep up close to Jessie Finch and Kate Potter, out for a stroll ... We say: "Good morning!" ... And Jessie is so startled she turns her back with a shout of "Oh!" ... And we continue on our journey wondering if Jessie recognized an old friend.
+++
We cross to the east side of the lake, and off the gravel road, and on the paved Seth Warner highway ... And pass the old Beebe homestead with visions of old John Beebe wearing a long beard in the winter time and smooth-shaven in the summer ... And the fish stories he used to tell which made him the envy of imaginative young fishermen ... And then, Walter, we reach the Poultney town line ... Voices come from a party of hunters from the east lake mountain ... And the reflection of the autumn shades of wine-reds, green and gold, on the still waters of the lake, is such as only nature's brush can paint.
+++
The autumn breeze is soothing and refreshing on a warm day ... As it shakes the tree branches and rains leaves in all directions ... And the mixed colors of the foliage forms a magic curtain at the entrance of an enchanted castle ... And wants to make one sing the praises for the opportunity of enjoying life ... And as we approach Poultney, Walter, the crickets and grasshoppers send cheerful greetings from along the roadside ... Then a frightened squirrel, surprised, runs up an oak tree with a loud "wheesh" ... And weaving and bobbing across the road are those little yellow fur-coated caterpillars with their black fur collars ... And as we are on the Middle Granville road heading for home, Walter, there are not words enough in God's creation to describe its beauties.
+++
Welcome to the new Council of the Knights of Columbus to Granville. The society which originally organized here forty-nine years ago last June 12, but which went out of existence during the business depression years like other fraternal organizations. The world needs good men to combat communism and the K. of C. is one more force in a good cause to safeguard our democratic way of life. Our present times call for a united effort from every liberty loving citizen of country. Go to it, Knights!
+++
David J. McHenry is the only survivor of the original first slate of the K. of C. officers instituted in Granville in 1898. The others are all gone. They were: John W. Gilroy, Frank Lortie, Thomas H. Butler, Martin H. Lyon, Rev. M. K. Merns, Patrick Layden, James Walsh and William Starr. They organized in the Joe Green block, then moved to the Will Hughes block, the opened in the Pember opera house building and wound up in the George H. McDonald hall.
+++
The many friends of Edward H. Porter send greetings to him through "Main Street" and wish him well during his stay in White Plains and an early return to Granville in the spring in good health ... Business in Granville is on the move once more. Old business changing locations. New ones opening up. A bakery on the corner of West Main and Maple street, Jerome Ginsburg buying the Rigali block ... Seeing Roger Allen arrayed in his Sunday best we asked the reason. "This is my birthday," said Roger, "I am eleven years old" ... And a handshake was in order.
+++
Friends of the veterans can support them by voting for the New York state bonus when it comes up in the November election. Veterans who served overseas will receive $250.00; those who served more than 60 days in this country will receive $150.00 and those who served 60 days only in this country will receive $50. The bonus is to be paid only to bona fide residents of New York state ... The Hallowe'en parade and dance should be one of the biggest events of its kind ever held here.
No comments:
Post a Comment