Tag Archives: herkimer ny

Wicked Good Program

For some time I had been intrigued by a book titled Wicked Mohawk Valley at the Herkimer County Historical Society. While attending a program on Strike Story (perhaps you read my blog post about that), I heard there was to be a program on the Wicked book on July 25, which was last Thursday. I made immediate plans to attend.

Steven worked till seven so had to join the program already in progress, but I got there in plenty of time. Before the actual program, we heard a few previews of upcoming attractions. I made note of two: a Wine Tasting and Tour at the Balloon Farm Bed and Breakfast in Frankfort, NY from 1 to 4 p.m. Aug. 4, and a walking tour of the Frankfort Cemetery at 6 p.m. Aug. 26 (I hope those are also previews of coming attractions for blog posts).

Dennis Webster is the author of Wicked Mohawk Valley as well as Wicked Adirondacks and Haunted Mohawk Valley. The last, co-authored by Bernadette Peck, was given to me by Steven last Christmas. I had not even noticed it was the same author, so add that to the list of things I don’t pay enough attention to.

Wicked Mohawk Valley is a collection of true stories about famous or rather infamous area dwellers, mostly from history. Naturally, Webster included chapters on Chester Gilette and Roxalana Druse, two very well-known figures (at least to this blogger). However, since those two have been covered quite extensively elsewhere, Webster merely mentioned them at Thursday’s program.

The most famous person he talked about, and his favorite story, was Dutch Schultz, Public Enemy No. 1 after Dillinger died. I never knew Schultz was tried in Malone, NY, a place I have visited many times. The authorities were trying to get Schultz the same way they had gotten Al Capone, on tax evasion. They chose Malone as a place where they hoped Schultz did not own all the cops and judges.

It was perhaps a mistake to let Schultz know in advance where the trial was to be held. He and his PR team arrived a month before the trial and went on a charm offensive. He went to ball games and cheered for the home team. He bought rounds at the local watering hole. He gave a party for all the kids in town. He told everyone he was just a hardworking businessman who had tried to settle with the IRS for $100,000 and was being persecuted. Who wouldn’t believe such a nice guy?

Webster went on to tell a few more stories from the book, which does not include a lot of stories about gangsters. For one thing, the mafia in Utica was covered quite well in a series in the Utica OD recently. It sounds like he found a lot of really interesting stories outside the mafia.

Webster also talked about Haunted Mohawk Valley. The folks at the program seemed more interested in ghosts than gangsters. Perhaps he will do another program highlighting his haunted activities.

I thoroughly enjoyed Thursday’s program. I can’t wait till Steven buys me Wicked Mohawk Valley for my birthday!

Nowhere to Go But Up

I have not been running enough lately but did not feel I could use that as an excuse to not run today. Steven left for work at 6:20 a.m. I left at the same time.

I turned toward Steuben Street, thinking to go up that hill. Full disclosure: I could not remember the name of the street till I got to it and saw the sign. That’s how little I’ve been running lately, because that is a usual Saturday morning run for me.

As I turned down German Street the sun was right in my eyes. How annoying. At least I could see the sidewalk a few feet in front of me, so no danger of tripping and falling on my stupid face. At least, less danger. I’m so clumsy I guess there are no guarantees. However, I reached Steuben without mishap (making a mental note of the name) and started up.

Who remembered that the hill was so steep and long? Not me! Oh no. There were only a couple of opportunities to turn off. Should I take the first, easier one? No! I was going to be tough!

What the hell do I have to be so tough for? I thought that hill was going to go on forever. The sidewalk ends pretty quickly and there is no shoulder to speak of. Traffic is light early Saturday morning, of course, but I encountered a few cars and trucks. Most of them at least crossed the center line for me. I suppose I can’t expect them to slow down much as they are going downhill. I at least gave them the little thank you wave for getting over.

Since, as I mentioned, I have not been running enough, I could not quite remember how far up the tough girl turn-off was. Around this curve? No. The next curve? No. Oh dear. Lots of curves on this road. Was that a hoof print in the gravel? Any observation to distract myself is useful. I looked around for deer, which you occasionally see on that road.

I started looking through trees to my right. You can see the road you turn on to through them before you actually get to it, and that’s kind of an encouraging sight. No far nothing but trees. Darn. Wait, surely that was the turn off? No, just a driveway. Well, I was certainly toughening myself up, wasn’t I?

At last! I could see the road I wanted through the trees. Now it was only a question of where the damn turn off was. The sharper the angle, the longer till I got to the turn. Damn, it must be a V! At last I reached it. Aaah!

And remembered that after a very short down-slope the road goes up again. What’s that all about? I felt so ill-used. And annoyed with myself for forgetting that little detail. No matter, I told myself. It was not all that steep an up-slope, and it was a quieter, residential area. I admired a few houses. I didn’t think I remembered any dogs on this stretch.

Then I was on the down-slope again. Which I had forgotten was so steep! It’s a little scary going down a steep down-slope. My husband, Steven, tells the story of running down a hill when he was a kid and being unable to stop. I suppose if it was a race I might throw caution to the wind and see how fast I could get. As it was, I leaned back and took advantage of gravity without letting gravity take control of me (how’s that for a sound bite?)

It was actually a pretty good run. I even encountered my friend, Nicky and his person when I got back on German Street. Naturally I stopped long enough to pet Nicky (such a good dog) and exchange greetings with his person. As Tabby graciously walked my cool-down with me, I felt pretty terrific. I might even run another hill tomorrow.

A Walk for Tabby

I was unable to write my intended post today (no excuses, just the usual reasons). I see it has been two weeks since my last Pedestrian Post, so I submit the following.

I felt I owed our schnoodle, Tabby, something fun. Last night (Wednesday) we went to the laundromat, a new activity for us, as regular readers may recall. Tabby saw us loading the car and got all excited. We must be going somewhere fun! In her defense, that is usually the only time she sees us making multiple trips between the vehicle and the house.

She looked so happy, I wanted to cry. I knew she would forgive us as soon as we were back home, but still. I suppose the operative thing to have done would have been to take her for a walk immediately upon our return. Or even before we left, so she might be tired and sleep while we were gone. One can often see the perfect thing to have done after the fact.

Be all that as it may, Tabby and I went for a nice walk just now. Yesterday gave us the deliciously cool fall-like temperatures that I love (yes, yet anther reason it would have been a good idea to walk yesterday, will you give it a rest?). Today was warm but not stinking hot. I put on my crazy old lady had and sunglasses and off we went.

It was pleasant in the shade, especially when a breeze blew. We walked one of our usual routes, down to Church Street then over towards Tabby’s and my beloved Historic Four Corners. This was also good for me, because I saw how long it takes to get there. I intend to walk to the Herkimer County Historic Society (one of the four corners) later tonight for a program on Wicked Mohawk Valley (preview of coming attractions).

Tabby did her business before we got to the Four Corners, which was nice, because there is a trash can right in front of the 1834 Jail (another one of the corners). I had another bag in case of further need so did not scruple to get rid of what she’d done so far.

On down Main Street we went. As always I admired the historic looking buildings and lamented the closed businesses. I noticed Christ Episcopal Church is offering a free dinner on Sunday. That might be fun and tasty.

We turned at Park Avenue. Burrito Jones is still promising to come in on that corner, but we did not walk past it, so I could not observe current progress. A young lady passed us going in the other direction and said, “Hi, puppies.” There were two rather adorable dogs across the street in front of the Post Office, so perhaps she was talking to them as well. Or maybe she thought I’d like to be a puppy, too. You never know, I might make a good one.

Meyers Park was especially pleasant with the trees and grass making it a little cooler. We went up the shadier side of Bellinger Street. Some people never cleaned off the mud during the flood so now there are thick patches of dirt on the sidewalks. At least it’s a little softer than bare pavement.

We enjoyed our walk. I had been hoping for a little more excitement, since I intended to write a blog post about it, but one must make do. Now to get ready for the program at the Historical Society, Wicked Mohawk Valley. I ought to fit right in.

I Didn’t Wait Till Fall

So when I got out of bed this morning, knowing that I should run but that I did not want to, I heard thunder and said, “I’m off the hook!”

Halfway through my second cup of coffee I realized it had not thundered again, and I had no excuse. I hadn’t run in at least a week and was feeling rather bad about it. On the other hand, I have a fairly athletic cousin who does NOT run in the summer time, too hot. Couldn’t I follow his example and bag it till fall? Oh, how good would that feel, wait till the temperature cools off and the humidity is gone. Fall, my favorite season. I could start running again in the fall.

Yesterday was the last day of the hideous heat wave, according to certain weather reports. Today should be better, tomorrow better yet. Last night, in fact, brought some cooler temperatures. The fan in my window was not merely pushing around hot air. Phew! Still, it’s not fall. I could wait till fall.

However, as I sat playing solitaire and finishing my coffee, I started to sweat from the humidity. Now I wanted a shower. Well, I showered after four o’clock yesterday afternoon. If I was going to shower again this morning, I had better work up a better sweat than from just playing cards. I got on the running gear.

The temperature was a little better than expected. I had been afraid that waiting till after seven as I had, it might be getting hot already. I was soon feeling the effects of the humidity, though. Ugh. Well, one thing I know is how to persevere.

I struck out down German Street, my goal being the hill at Valley Health. A good enough hill after taking time off. I crossed the street, to avoid what I recalled as some egregious mud further down.

As I ran, I reflected that I had been telling myself I “should” run. Obviously that was silly of me. I’ve spoken about that before: as soon as you think you should do something, it is the last thing you want to do! I thought to myself, “I knew it was a good idea to go running.” In fact, I had said no such thing to myself earlier, and that no doubt explained my reluctance to wriggle into the sports bras. Now that I was out and doing it, I reflected that it was a good idea, and I was happy.

Then I saw some mud even more egregious than what I had crossed the street to avoid. After being really annoyed with myself for forgetting this stretch (after all, I knew that was where the flood had done some pretty extensive damage), I went out in the road to avoid it.

And realized I was NOT on the left side facing traffic. OH NO! That is one of my pet soap boxes. I bitch all the time about people walking and running in the road (often when there is a perfectly respectable sidewalk) in the same direction as cars, sometimes two or three abreast. Grrr! At least there was only one of me and not much traffic. Cross the street to maintain my integrity? Oh, it was less than half a block. I picked up the pace and got back on the sidewalk as soon as I could.

I’d been running a little over ten minutes when I remembered, I like to run. I was coated with sweat in an uncomfortable fashion and I was not running very fast, but dammit, I liked it! Who saw that coming? Not me!

I continued through the streets of Herkimer, feeling pretty good about myself. I almost slipped in some mud and landed on my butt, but avoided that disaster. I took short shuffly steps through the mud after that. Soon I came to a stretch of bare sidewalk and lengthened my pace.

Oh, I was going great! I achieved that loping stride the young folks seem to do with no effort. At least, in my head it was that stride. In reality it was probably only a little longer and faster than my usual middle-aged shuffle. But I enjoyed it.

I ended up running the same length of time as the last time I ran. Incidentally, it was over two weeks ago; I looked it up when I got back home. Tabby graciously walked my cool-down with me. As we walked, the most delicious cool breeze blew in my face. What a great start to my Saturday!

Help from the Belly Up

I realized I had neglected to write about a Mohawk Valley adventure Steven and I had the Saturday before last. We went to the Belly Up Pub in Herkimer, NY for their Summer Saturday, which on July 6 was also a fundraiser for victims of the recent flooding in the Mohawk Valley.

We went to a previous Summer Saturday and enjoyed it very much (perhaps you read my blog post about it). We may not have attended another that Saturday, what with our own flooded basement blues, but we felt we should support the cause. Also, blues notwithstanding (or maybe because of the blues), I thought it would benefit me to get out of the house for the evening.

We stopped for dinner first at Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner, handily located just a few doors down. After filling up on burgers and homemade chips (or is that a misnomer: homemade in a restaurant?) we repaired to the Belly Up.

It was early enough to easily find a table inside (tall bar tables such as I love). We figured we could go outside for dancing later if we decided to. For the moment, the air conditioning felt good.

It continued to feel good, and we ended up not going outside at all. DJ Big Poppa was spinning tunes. We enjoyed his selections. Our friends Phyllis and Jim joined us, and we had a fine time visiting and making silly jokes (two of my favorite pastimes). At one point we saw somebody setting up a camera.

“And me having a bad hair day,” I lamented. This, of course, was another silly joke. I have only one kind of hair day since my St. Baldrick’s Day adventure in June. It’s actually now about a half inch long (haven’t measured). I think it looks cute, although I may be flattering myself.

I didn’t pay too much attention to the camera after that, but I guess they did interview somebody. A fellow I work with saw it on the news and said Phyllis and I were in the background. I knew there was a reason I should watch my local news on Sunday.

We later learned the evening raised over $1,800, to be donated to the United Way CNY Flood Recovery Fund. This is especially good news, as it seems FEMA is not going to come through with help for individuals. In light of that, I’m wondering if we will see fundraisers in other venues. Way to set the example, Belly Up Pub!

Post-Flood Perambulation

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that we are in the habit of referring to walks as perambulations, because most dogs know “the w word.” As I was writing this post in my head while I fixed dinner, I thought, “I’ll call it Wednesday Walk. Alliterative.”

And then I remembered today was Thursday. That’s what I get for cooking with wine. Or does that make this Non-Sequitur Thursday? No matter, Steven and I just took a walk with our schnoodle Tabby, and I’m going to write a post about it.

It was Steven’s idea to take a walk. Of course I always want to walk with our nice dog, but lately it’s been so stinking hot and humid. And it has rained just about every damn day (perhaps you’ve read some of my posts about the area flooding). Today was beautiful.

I had written most of a letter to my sister during work today. I suggested Steven add his two cents and we walk it to the post office. After a minor crisis looking for the stamps and some debate about appropriate footwear (are there still copious patches of mud from the flood?), we were off.

Sunny with a nice breeze. No mud to speak of, although we did encounter a few patches of dry dirt where bare sidewalk ought to be. Really, things are getting cleaned up nicely. For the past two weeks many houses have had sad piles of garbage next to the curb, the ruined contents of basements. Most of that has been hauled away.

We admired some flowers in flower boxes and on porches. Some front yard gardens were still blooming and beautiful. Some yards had not fared so well.

The breeze died down and the sun began to feel a little stronger. I encouraged Tabby to not stop and sniff while we were in the direct sunlight. I was more lenient in the shade. Steven pointed out that Tabby had not been for a walk in a few days; she was making the most of it.

We got the letter mailed then walked all the way up Main Street and down German to home. Herkimer is definitely looking better. Here’s hoping for better days to come!

Patriotic Run

In honor of Independence Day, I wore my ARMY t-shirt to go for this morning’s run.

I had originally thought I would be running every day this week, but with the flood… not so much. Monday and Wednesday I had to conserve my physical resources for hauling ruined junk out of the basement. Tuesday I had thought to do the same, but the basement had filled with water again. By the time I realized my little sump pump was not going to empty it in a timely fashion, it was too hot to run. I went to Curves instead, arguably a more strenuous workout.

Thursday (today), my husband is working from eight to 4:30, then from five to ten (five to ten sounds like a prison sentence, which is analogous to many jobs). I thought for what I planned on doing in his absence, I could be a little tired.

It was already warm when I started out, over 70 degrees with humidity. Yet I felt sure I could rock it. Then again, there was nothing wrong with taking a shorter run than planned, especially as the week was not turning into the work-out paradise I had envisioned.

I turned left from North Bellinger onto German Street, going toward where some of the flood damage was pretty bad. That section of German had been closed off all week, so I knew I might have to make a turn before too long.

Oh, it did look bad. A lovely stone fence in front of a beautiful historic-looking brick house is no more. The sidewalk got a little dicey at that point, but I was left side facing traffic as I went out into the road.

Then I saw that I could not loop around German onto Church Street as I had planned, because the bridge was closed. I was about to say I never heard about the bridge being closed, but I bet it did and I just don’t know what that bridge is called. It isn’t a very big bridge. Other than turn around the only thing I could do was go through the high school parking lot and see if their little foot bridge was still in use. It didn’t seem likely. I turned around.

I ran past all the side streets till I was beyond the flood zone. I ran down residential streets, enjoying flower beds that were not a muddy mess and curb sides not covered with people’s ruined stuff. I thought of pictures of New Orleans after Katrina and New Jersey after Sandy, and I felt fortunate.

But running was not getting any easier, because it was damn humid. I was not going to run as far as I had run on Sunday, 34 minutes, in case you wanted to know. I got back on my own street. How long would I run? Well, I would go a little way past the house, just to make it a full number. It seems a little silly to say I ran for 28 minutes 44 seconds.

Then I saw some neighbors talking on a porch, right about the time I wanted to be turning around. We exchanged good mornings and I kept running. I couldn’t very well run up to them, say good morning and run back home. Now that I’m writing this, I can’t quite explain my reluctance, but there it was. I ran around the block.

As I ran I reflected on the number of things people do just to keep from looking foolish. Like when I recently raised almost $600 for St. Baldrick’s Day, so I wouldn’t look silly in front of the other bald people (I don’t think any of them were concerned, but still). Then I thought, whatever makes you do the right thing.

So I made my 34 minutes, and my cold shower felt pretty refreshing (it will be a long while before my hot water heater is replaced and we get the gas turned back on). And I deem it patriotic enough on Independence Day to write about something I learned to love in the army.

Fanfare for Fire Departments!

I thought I would take today’s post to give a brief shout-out to fire departments everywhere.

Of course, I’ve always been a great admirer of firefighters. They have bravery, dedication and physical abilities that are far beyond anything I can muster.

I first started getting a tear in my eye over firefighters in the aftermath of 9-11. I heard about how firefighters far and wide just got in their cars and went to help. Just like that. To this day I get a lump in my throat thinking about it.

I came to greatly admire our Mohawk Valley fire departments a few years ago, when a fire raged on Main Street and onto Albany Street in Herkimer, NY. Several departments from surrounding communities came together and fought the blaze, saving several local businesses.

And now comes the Flood of 2013. Departments from around the state have come to help. My own basement was pumped out twice by two different departments last Saturday.

The second time my husband, Steven, and I were not even home when they started. We had run out to pick up some food, and when we returned a fire truck was in our driveway. Our neighbor had seen through our basement window that we were filling up again and flagged down the truck.

A fireman had crawled through our basement window (the first guys had taken it out, because it doesn’t open properly), turned off our little sump pump and set up their equipment. Go on,picture it: one of those little basement windows into a basement that was crappy before it flooded, and he crawls right in and gets to work.

In conclusion, I repeat: I LOVE FIRE DEPARTMENTS. From now on, whenever I see a fire department fundraiser, I am there. I’ll probably write a blog post about it.

All in the Same Ark

One comfort to me is that we — that is, we in the Mohawk Valley — are all going through this. Everybody is pumping out their basements. Nobody in my neighborhood has flood insurance, I don’t think. Many people who already had sump pumps “just happened to have them and have never needed them.

Astute readers may have guessed by now that this blog is segueing over into All Flood All the Time. It is the topic of the moment in the Mohawk Valley, and quite frankly, it makes me feel better to think with each new woe, “At least I can get a blog post out of this!”

It seems to me that others are showing considerably more competence at this pumping out and cleaning up stuff than me, but I’m not sure if that is really true. When I’ve spoken to my neighbors and said, “I’m just so clueless about all this,” the usual response is, “Us, too!”

I was later than others in starting the pumping thing. Others were pumping by Friday afternoon and into Friday night. My husband Steven and I got started on Saturday. A call to a company specializing in this sort of thing got us an appointment on Wednesday. Wednesday! We headed to Aubuchon in Herkimer, NY, to see what we could do right away.

We usually go to Aubuchon for this sort of thing, because they are always so informative and helpful. They did not disappoint. We purchased a sump pump, two sixty-foot garden hoses (a better buy than one hundred-footer, because of a sale) and a heavy duty extension cord. We do own a heavy duty extension cord, but neither of us could remember if it was in the dining room under the buffet or in the basement under water) (it turned out to be the dining room, but I saved the receipt).

We could not figure out how to get a basement window out so we ran the hose up the stairs and out the door. As we were messing with it, a fireman came over and said they were pumping out the neighbor’s basement next door. We were next! Woohoo!

While they were getting set up, Steven left for work. While they were pumping, the plumber showed up.

I forgot to mention that to add to our woes, the toilet was not flushing. I feared it was due to backed up sewage, but after our guy asked Steven a few questions he said he’d be over later to check it out.

One snaking later, our toilet could flush. Yay! If there was one thing that could make me feel better about everything, that was it.

I almost feel I should end today’s narrative here, because it is such a high note. It was in fact as high as my spirits rose before being — I have to say it — damped down considerable, later in the day.

Looking back, yesterday was rather a long day. I spent it alternately buoyed up by hope (oh no, more water metaphors!) and plunged into despair. We’ll end today on hope: toilet flushing, basement being pumped out. What will happen in the afternoon? Stay tuned!

Running from the Flood

Oh, I just noticed, I did NOT do a post about Thursday’s run. Therefore I am certain a Saturday Running Commentary will be welcomed by such readers who like to read about a run (you know who you are).

Steven and I were up early, having not slept very well. Steven, because he was obsessing over how we are so clueless about flooded basements and such. Me, because the neighbors were all sump-pumping their basements. Not that it was so loud (and I would NEVER fault my neighbors for making noise for such a reason even if it was), but it got me to obsessing about how I really ought to be doing something about pumping out my own basement.

So we got up early for a Saturday and got some coffee, available to us because I had sensibly boiled some water before our gas got cut off. Oh dear, halfway through the third paragraph and I haven’t gotten to the run yet. Well, I thought I would include some background on my mood and motivations.

In the first place, I thought some endorphins might help. More importantly, we have no hot water since the gas is off. I thought that after a hot, sweaty run, a cold shower would feel pretty good. So off I went.

The sidewalks on North Bellinger are covered with mud. Well, I like to run off-road. I told myself this was just nature’s way of bringing off-road to me. I ran carefully, because mud is slippery. My middle-aged shuffle served me well. No mishaps. Oh, I know, the cold shower would wash off the mud as well as the sweat. I still didn’t want to take a header into a puddle.

Two blocks from my house the sidewalks magically cleared. I had a nice run through residential streets on bare paths. I started to get tired a little over halfway through my intended time, but I persevered.

At last it was time to head in the general direction of Bellinger Street. Oh dear, would it be muddier this way or this way? Having at last attained the bare sidewalks, I was loath to give them up. That actually may have lengthened my run considerably, if I had run around and around looking for bare sidewalks. However, I sternly told myself there was GOING to be mud, just go with it.

A little trickier was the cool-down walk with my schnoodle, Tabby. She is getting to be quite the dirty dog as it is; I didn’t want to make her too much worse. We accomplished it with some back and forth walking, utilizing the apartment building at the corner of our street. It is set up on a little hill and the sidewalks leading to the front doors are bare.

I felt better after my run, and my cold shower was an invigorating blast. As the day progresses, we are slowly dealing with our other flooding woes. At the risk of becoming tiresome, I may write about them in tomorrow’s blog post as well. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.