Main Street - April 24, 1952

By Morris Rote-Rosen

The Granville Sentinel, April 24, 1952

The present modern Lasher drug store is a radical departure from the original Oscar Baldwin store and the one conducted later by Ed Ladd. We wonder what the old timers would say if they could see the present store and compare it with the one they conducted by the hanging kerosene lamp and the pot bellied stove. Drug stores today are different from those when the druggist rolled their pills and when the shelves were loaded with patent medicines guaranteed to cure any and all the ills of mankind. R.B. Jones is to be congratulated on his modernism in making the Lasher drug store one of the most attractive in this area.

The New York State Conservation Department reported 200,000 fishermen out on the opening day of the trout season. Judging by the activity along the Mettowee river there were 199,999 of the fishermen in Granville. Men and boys, ladies and girls, every one seemed to have caught the fishing fever. The fishing tackle varied from the most expensive rods to the old fashioned twig with a grocery string tied to it. But everyone was having the time of their life and there is no finer sport for the lovers of the outdoors than fishing.

We have received several inquiries by readers of "Main Street" of the significance in the overlapping of dates of Easter and the Jewish passover. The Jewish Passover pre-dates Easter by approximately 1,200 years and is the celebration of a historical event - the liberation of the ancient Jews from bondage in Egypt. Easter, as is known, is the observance of the death and resurrection of Christ. What confuses some is the fact that the Jewish Passover is mentioned in connection with the Lord's Last Supper which happened to fall during Passover week and when Jesus shared unleavened bread with his disciples.

The weather Easter Sunday was a disappointment particularly to the ladies who couldn't display their spring outfits and bonnets to advantage. It was a cold, rainy day which made it ideal for family reunions and visits from friends and neighbors. The Granville churches were well attended. After a church service a Granville pastor shaking hands with a member of the church said: "Well, I suppose I will see you again next Easter." He perhaps didn't mean it the way it sounded but there are those who attend church on certain occasions only during the year and most of the time the church is out of their thoughts.

We never saw democracy in action like we did at the Granville fire department annual meeting at the Norton Hose company rooms last week. There are 70 members in the Granville fire department and when a meeting of the firemen comes to a close practically every man in the department has expressed an opinion. But when it comes to final action on any proposition offered at the meeting there is an almost unanimous opinion expressed if it benefits the community. No organization or group in Granville has such a cross section of the citizenry of Granville like the Granville fire department. A fine group of men.

We were looking out of the office window on Good Friday afternoon and we could not only see but feel the solemnity of the observance of the holy occasion. Soon after the noon hour struck the fire alarm was the only thing that disturbed an otherwise silence of several hours while the local churches were holding special services. The sky was clear and the spring sun shone brightly. A cool breeze from the north caught worshippers shivering on their way to church. Then suddenly the street became deserted. The village office was closed in keeping with the other offices and business places in Granville.

Store doors had cards posted on them stating that they were closed from 12 o'clock until 3 o'clock. Although there were but few parked cars on the street one could see a truck passing hurriedly through the village during the afternoon. The sound of the motor trucks appeared strange and exceptionally loud. Two little girls came roller skating down the street and a young mother was slowly wheeling her baby. Two men stood huddled near the bank corner whispering. Another man on Main Street was smoking his pipe and watching the smoke curl upwards.

A man in dungarees crossed the street. He stopped suddenly deep in thought. Turned around and walked back to the place whence he came. A small boy holding his dog by the collar was looking in one of the store windows. Several young ladies heading for church, were wearing their new Easter outfits as well as their Easter bonnets which were not to be exposed to the public before Easter Sunday. But here they were. A little boy with a hand full of agates was looking for companions to join in a game of marbles. Even he didn't have any luck and returned home.

While looking out of the office window we saw several dried yellow leaves, released from under its winter blanket of snow, whirling in the air. First up and then down again. Resting for a moment and then again at the mercy of the wind. We saw in the whirling, restless leaves a parallel to mankind in the civilized world of today. Here we are observing the sacrifice made by the Prince of the Peace for the love of his fellowmen but his message and the tragedy enacted on Mount Calvary has not yet touched the hearts of men.

Two souvenir post cards, one from the Bahamas and the other from Jamaica, reached "Main Street" about the same time. Jack Huyck who is sojourning in Nassau and is about due to return home and settle down at the foot of the Green Mountains for the rest of the year. The other card is from Paul Roche, a former Granville resident, who boasts, or complains, he didn't state which, by writing that it is 102 degrees in Jamaica. Both Jack and Paul evidently tried to hide away from the cold and snow to a warmer clime. It's all right to come home now, boys, we are having fine spring weather.

It was well past midnight when we saw the village Board of Trustees break up a regular board meeting, which lasted for 5 continuous hours, most of the time having been consumed in trying to come up with a budget which would give the village some improvements without making the tax burden too heavy for the taxpayers to carry. What would happen to a community like Granville or any other community if we couldn't find five men who would devote their time and energy unselfishly to serve others. And we wonder how much their services to the community are appreciated.

Three youngsters came into the office and asked if we would like to contribute 25 cents to take a chance at winning a chicken. "What's the benefit for?" we asked. And the three boys explained that a fund is being raised by them to finance a baseball league composed of three teams: 'The Southwest Ozarks, the Skunkers and the Redskins," was their reply. "And there will be other teams in the league," they concluded. Writing down our name three times we were relieved of a quarter of a dollar as the boys ran out looking for another easy mark to help out a good cause. Who knows there may be a Babe Ruth or Lou Gehrig in the making. And that's worth 25 cents in any man's league.

Main Street - April 17, 1952

By Morris Rote-Rosen

from the Granville Sentinel, April 17, 1952

While calling on Jay Gould, on the Middle Granville road, for a gallon of maple syrup, we found him seated in a comfortable chair but looking tired from a busy maple syrup season. Jay who had produced 500 gallons of syrup was about ready to wind it up for the spring's operation since the weather was turning warm. Jay said that it takes about 32 gallons of sap to produce one gallon of srup and that's enough to keep a younger man than Jay busy. Being an old timer in the business Jay takes it in stride. Mrs. Gould served a dish of the rich tasty high quality syrup and all we lacked was a pan of pan cakes which Mrs. Gould would have served had we ordered it.

While visiting with Jay we noticed a huge bird flying several hundred feet up. The bird resembled a miniature airplane. Pointing to the bird way up in the sky we couldn't quite decide whether the bird was a monster size hawk or one of the eagles coming back to the vicinity like it did many years ago. The late J.L. McArthur always looked for the return of two eagles this time of the year to nest on the ledge of the east side of Lake St. Catherine. Walt Brown also recalls the eagles coming back each year. The bird we watched circled several times over the village and disappeared in the east.

When Dave Jones of Poultney comes out of his winter hibernation one of the first calls he makes in Granville is at our office. When he entered and said that he was reporting once more he noticed Ed Vail in one of the rocking chairs. It was no time before the two were swapping yarns and reminiscing about old times in Granville. We listened and jotted down a few of their verbal exchanges which covered a period when both were young men and active in our community. Names and places of another generation came rolling out thick and fast and the two got lost in a period which is now but a memory.

Said Dave to Ed: "Ed I got a picture of you with your spotted pony taken in front of the Hayes restaurant." Ed: And a little dog sitting on the cub beside the pony." ... Ed, continues: "I got a picture of the Woodmen marching down the street and also one taken in Rutland." ... Dave: "Quite a few of them now gone. Is Art Austin alive?" Ed: "Alive? You can't kill him. He'll go on forever." ... Dave: "I remember them all" ... Both were silent for a few moments (...) than Ed: "I take the old snap shots and pictures out now and then and I look at them. The only trouble is that I didn't date them and I can't quite tell the year they were taken."

Dave broke in with: "I remember them all. We had a good drill team. There was Dave Cad and John R. Williams." ... Ed: "They were quite a bunch of good fellows and we did some pretty good initiating, too." Dave: "Where is Gren Walker?" Ed: Walker is gone but he has a daughter living in Glens Falls." ... And so the intimate recollections went on and on and the conversation was so absorbing to the two while talking and dreaming of the days of their youth that they silently rose from the chairs, reached for the door as we wathced them march down the steps of the office, they were still talking about days that are gone, but beaming with happiness.

This story comes out of Andy's Barber Shop. Little Rickey Friedman, carrot-topped youngest son of Dr. and Mrs. Henry Friedman, was comfortably seated in the barber chair getting his red hair trimmed. He was deeply interested in a book of "funnies" while the barber worked on him. A man sitting in the adjoining barber chair turned to Rickey and said: "Little boy that's pretty hair you have." Rickey didn't reply. "I said little boy," repeated the next chair occupant, "where did you get your red hair." When no reply was forthcoming from Rickey the man said: "You sure have pretty red hair little boy, where did you get it." This time Rickey lookd up from his funnies. "Came with my head, I guess," he said and continued with his book.

Muskrats are so plentiful this year that they are reported caught by the hundreds in the vicinity streams and rivers. They are so thick that after not having been trapped for several years that they can be seen in back yards and on sidewalks. Three men were chasing one near the Tatko store on Main street in the evening. Unable to corner it the men continued the chase but John F. Evans saw them losing out in the race. He jumped off the truck, picked the muskrat up by the tail, gave it a whack across the neck, put it in the truck and drove away while the three others stood bewildered. "The easiest two dollars I ever made," said John.

The Russians are not the only ones to claim "firsts" in this world. Harold Morris has now challenged Joe Stalin for one "first". Coming over to his cottage on the lake channel Harold noticed some of the ice breaking up and the channel opening up in the middle. Excited with spring fever Harold couldn't resist taking a glide on the open water although there were still everal feet of ice along the shore. Reaching for his canoe he stepped into it and with one foot gave a shove. He slid over the ice at the shore and into the opening in the middle of the channel to enjoy the first ride on Lake St. Catherine water in 1952. "Let old Joe Stalin beat that first," said Harold with a chuckle.

The Granville Hook and Ladder company now has its new truck which completes the Granville fire department equipment on a par with any volunteer department in the state. Granville is one of the few volunteer fire departments which equip itself from its own funds without charging anything to the taxpayers for fire protection. The three fire trucks of the Granville fire deparrtment have been purchased  privately by the three companies with funds raised by the annual carnival. The Henry Hose company has a Buffalo pumper; the Norton Hose a LaFrance and the Granville Hook & Ladder company a new Dodge.

To be released from the grip of the long winter and from the confinement of warm stuffy rooms to the great open spaces this time of the year is enough to cause every one of us to pause in a prayer of thanksgiving for the goodness life has to offer. To roam the fields to tramp over the hills or to be puttering with a saw or hammer or a spade, or to be shoving the dock out in to the lake and then turn to paint the row boat, it all gives one a new birth of freedom. To feel the soft warm earth or to sit leaning against a tree trunk, to listen to the new feathered arrivals offer a symphony of the sweetest music this side of heaven. That's life at its best. Try it.

We met William H. Kelly, Jr., of Albany recently in Mechanicville. "Do you know Roy Finch," he asked with a twinkle in his eye. Of course we know Roy Finch we told him. "I never saw your column you write in your local paper," said Kelly, "but whatever it is Roy says that it is the first thing he reads when he receives his home town paper." Which reminds us that it is about time for Roy and Jessie and Mary and her sweet little daughter to be thinking of Lake St. Catherine. No doubt Jessie is already rummaging through the attic and cellar in Albany trying to assemble Roy's fishing tackle.

At a recent meeting of Sylvan Star chapter of the Order of the Eastern Star of Granville we sat in back of a lady whose resemblance was so marked as to single her out to us as someone we have seen at some time or had known some time ago. We mustered enough courage to start a conversation to learn that we were talking to Charlotte Gottry of Cambridge, daughter of Lucille Wyman Hitchcock and granddaughter of the late Emmett E. Wyman, one of the early railroad station agents in Granville. there was no mistaking the freckles and the red hair of Charlotte. She is a "Wyman" in every way except a little heavier than her mother or her late grandfather.