Main Street – January 8, 1948

By Morris Rote-Rosen

Following a woodland trail, on Christmas morning, we made our way by breaking a winding path in the freshly fallen snow, through a thick growth of hemlock and pine. The breeze, humming through the tree branches, shook loose a fine, white snow dust from the overhanging branches, scattering frosty tinsel in milky clouds. Arriving at the foot of the fill, after crossing the track of a snow-shoe rabbit, we reached the road. In the distance we saw a black spot silhouetted against a field of white, which turned out to be a black horse making his way up hill to an open barn door.

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We stopped near the barn in time to see a man coming out carrying a shovel. He was cleaning the barn which contained two horses. He was startled when we said "Merry Christmas!" He stopped, lowered his shovel, leaned on it without saying a word. "Do you know that this is Christmas Day?" we asked. He hesitated and then said: "I hadn't thought of it." "Are you alone here?" we asked. "Yep," came the reply. "Have you any family or relatives?" we asked again. "I'm skidding logs most of the time," was his evasive reply, "so far I skidded out of the woods 100,000 feet of logs and expect to bring out at least 200,000 more."

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We exchanged a few words with the lumberjack, who was living alone in a nearby abandoned house. His "boss" brings him groceries once a week. To the lumberjack this was just another day. We brought up the fact that this was a day of greeting, exchanging gifts and of family gatherings, but he appeared to be all but unhappy in his lonely surroundings. As we left him standing, there in the opening of the barn, still leaning on his shovel, his eyes, half-closed, followed us and we thought we saw a change in his expression. We felt sure that the "Merry Christmas" greeting suddenly awakened in him memories of the past and brought to him the realization that this was Christmas Day.

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Of all the letters addressed to "Main Street," those who make an impression on us most, are from former residents of Granville, who have moved elsewhere, but who still yearn for the old home town. Here are some: Margaret Thomas, Hartford, Conn.: "I love my work, but my heart still belongs to the old home town and all its folks." .... Elizabeth McD. Tobin, Albany, N.Y.: "I was happy to find your 'Main Street' in my Sentinel again. It brings back memories of my old home town." ... Frank B. Allen, La Mesa, Calif. "I am packing to move east in the spring. I never liked California and am anxious to get home."

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And these letters make us feel and also wonder if some one, or some group in our community, hasn't fallen down on the job of making an effort, in the past, to invite or to encourage new industries which would give employment, not so much to the older people as to the young men and women, who leave Granville much against their will to find work elsewhere. Since we incorporated the village of Granville in 1885, we have been a second class village (in population) and we still are. If we could have kept the Granville young people here, who are now scattered in Schenectady, Rome, Ilion, Bridgeport and Hartford and other places, we could have been by now a town with a population well over 10,000.

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Frank B. Allen, former well known band leader in this section, enclosed in his letter an old program, of a band concert in the Pember Opera House, dated January 19, 1904. The program is of interest because of the advertisers who were leading business men in Granville forty-four years ago. Some of the names are: Charles E. McFadden, jewelry store; H. H. Ensign, grocery; Charles Schiff, restaurant; Michael Hickey, clothing; John G. Williams, druggist; Charles E. Paul, shoes; Henry R. Rivenburgh, clothing store; Frank W. Scott, shoe store ... Do you remember them, you old timers?

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With so much ado about girl students wearing slacks in school, we asked Mr. McMaster, principal of the Granville schools: "What about slacks?" "If I sent all the girls home who wear slacks," said Mr. McMaster, "I am afraid that I wouldn't have many left in school. Slacks are no problem in Granville and I sometimes wonder how the girls can go around in this extremely cold weather with bare legs as many of them do. I should think they would catch cold, but it doesn't seem to bother them." And with these few words, Mr. McMaster dismissed the subject of slacks, which started such a controversy in other schools.

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Mr. and Mrs. Jay Middleton, observed their fifty-fifth wedding anniversary, last week Friday, January 2, in the very house in which they were married, January 2, 1893. They haven't lived there all these years, but returned to their old home in 1925 ... With the absence of Christmas decorations on the Main street, the studio of Ray Brown blared forth Yuletide season and religious music on the sound amplifier which was just as good a reminder - if any one needed reminding ... Mrs. Percy Lasher, came into the old Granville National Bank building, peeped into the small room, which the late D. D. Woodard used as a private office and said: "I expected to find Mr. Woodard here."

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When we met Michael O'Brien, eight-year old son of Mr. and Mrs. Eugene O'Brien, we thought that a proper subject for conversation with a boy of his age would be outdoor sports, such as skiing, skating, ice fishing and biking. Michael listened intently and when we gave him an opportunity to say a word, he said: "You know, Morris, that cosmic ray is quite the thing. It can reach everywhere. I saw a moving picture of a balloon going way, way up in the sky, but it could not escape the cosmic ray. That is something." ... We didn't know that we were talking to an embryonic Einstein.

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When our government finishes finger printing all its employees, there won't be a Communist within shooting distance of a federal pay check. The present drive against those advocating the overthrow of our government will result even more satisfactory than the drive made for alien registration before the war with the Nazis. The FBI never missed one. And those who may think that a Communist has perfect a right to his political expressions as a Republican or a Democrat, will find the answer in the recent decision of a Pennsylvania judge who ruled that since Communist Russia is an enemy of our country, a Communist is also an enemy of the United States.

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There are several hobbyists in Granville, but none have gone into their hobby to the extent Louis Goldberg has. He is one of the best known philatelists in this area, and, without a doubt, he has one of the most complete and most valuable collection of stamps. He places his total number of stamps in the six-figure column among which is that, prized by philatelists, group of "Famous Americans." "They are not only valuable from a collector's point of view," said Louis, "but there is such a fine history behind each one of them." He specializes in American stamp issues.

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Ralph J. Hicks of Albany, a member of the Post-War Planning Board of New York State, who hadn't been in Granville since 1920, recalls that as an engineer-student of R.P.I., he was here with a group of young engineers doing practice surveying. "We stopped at the Central House," said Mr. Hicks, "and we raised so much hell one night that George Finch, came into our room and threatened to throw us out if we didn't quiet down. We invited him to join us and we found him one of the best fellows we ever met. It was then that George made up his mind to send Roy to R.P.I., and I guess you know the rest."

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Note: Paragraphs 4 through 9 reprinted in January 12, 1994 issue