Child’s play, you say? Legos are a perfect proof of concept when it comes to children’s instinct to construct and then deconstruct, reuse instead of demolish.
Children intuitively understand adaptive reuse:
Legos teach reuse at a young age. You build, take apart and rebuild using the same pieces. You wouldn’t throw away your Legos would you? So why throw away your home’s valuable materials? (reusenetwork.org)
This quirky little video (published on Oct 30, 2009 by the Deconstruction & Reuse Network) is a clever reminder why we should practice more sustainable building and renovation. It’s not rocket science, folks. Reuse! The organization’s mission statement is:
We’re an environmental and humanitarian public benefit corporation, promoting and empowering deconstruction practices and the reuse of quality building materials 501(c)(3). (Source: Deconstruction & Reuse Network)
Too bad they’re in California! I wonder, is their an equivalent deconstruction, salvage, reconstruction, repurposing and/or reuse organization in our area? All tips welcome.
Rosslyn & Reuse
In the early months of Rosslyn’s historic rehabilitation, adaptive reuse was not only environmentally responsible (think green renovation and green building) and architecturally responsible (think preservation of historic heritage), it was also a sentimental inevitability. We inherited such a vast array of architectural salvage from the previous owners — installed and in-use in all four buildings, but also stored away in the carriage barn. Such treasures! We couldn’t even identify everything (mysterious artifacts surface all the time), but we suspected that some day, one day many of these items would serve us (and Rosslyn) well.
One of the items that we removed from the previous owner’s woodshed was a pair of Greek Revivalcolumns. They’re stored away in the carriage barn, hibernating, awaiting a creative reuse. Stay tuned for their next chapter. And, though most passersby are unaware, the flagpole mounted atop Rosslyn’s boathouse was once a sailboat mast!
Reuse is Child’s Play: digital watercolor derived from a video still (Image: Geo Davis)
Legos & DIY
In addition to the handy look at deconstruction and reuse, I also like the video above because it uses Legos. Legos! So accessible, and for many of us, so familiar. This ubiquitous children’s toy is one of our first introductions to the DIY way of thinking, subtly exposing youngsters to the idea of making, encouraging experimentation (and occasional failure) as well as reminding us then when it’s all said and done we can just deconstruct our creation back into its pieces in order to make something new. This ethos guides so much of Susan and my interest in and aptitude for what we call “greenovation” (responsible remodeling). We were both “Do it myself” kids, and now we’re a couple of “Do it myself” adults (who still feel like kids!)
Call it a 184-day streak. Or call it dogged determination. Either way I have 181 days to go until I reach my goal. And with each new post, each small victory, I am growing more and more confident that I will accomplish my mission of 365 posts, one complete year of daily updates beginning on August 1, 2022 and concluding on July 31, 2023.
So how to commemorate this midpoint milestone? With 6 months down and 6 months to go, it feels momentous enough to pause and praise my good fortune. But should this benchmark be acknowledged with a celebratory salute? A solemn ceremony? A toast, my first spirited sip after 31 days of teetotaling? (Yesterday marked the conclusion of my 7th or 8th, maybe even my 9th “dry January”.) Or perhaps a decadent dessert after a sugar free month? (For some sadomasochistic reason I’ve decided in recent years to add a sugar fast to alcohol abstention during the month of January, a timely recovery after the excesses of Thanksgiving-through-New Years…) A new month (ie. rabbit-rabbit) ritual transcending the delicious dinner I shared with Jim and Mark two nights ago at Juniper?
Slow Cooked Whole Rabbit: cumin, blood orange and smoked paprika glazed, corn tortillas, chimichurri, salsa fresca, refried beans (Source: Juniper at Hotel Vermont)
Maybe a romantic romp with my bride who suggested, upon retrieving me from the airport yesterday, that we celebrate a belated anniversary to compensate for the one we missed this past autumn when she was unwell. 17 years of marriage and 21 years together. I’m incredulous even as I type these numbers. Neither seems remotely possible. But my 50th birthday seemed similarly inaccurate this past spring, and I’m obliged to accept it.
Or how about we honor the 200th anniversary of Rosslyn’s front façade, ostensibly completed in 1823? (Apparently 3/5 of the building — the two window portion to the north of the entrance, as well as the entrance itself — was completed in 1820. The remaining 2/5, including the two windows to the south of the entrance and comprising the dining room downstairs, a guest bedroom and Susan’s study on the second floor, and another guest bedroom on the third floor, was most likely finished three years later in 1823, fulfilling the the architectural promise of this classic Federal home with Georgian and Greek Revival elements.
An auspicious confluence of milestones and anniversaries. I’m choosing to interpret this is a good omen even as I nevertheless acknowledge that I’ve meandered from my original mark, hoisting the flag at my halfway point, mid-journey in my post-a-day quest. I recall an earlier waypoint in this quest, an update I published on October 10, 2022 when I was still just shy of halfway to where I am today.
Yesterday marked ten weeks of old house journaling. Every. Single. Day. Two months and ten days back at the helm of this wayward, meandering, sometimes unruly experiment I call Rosslyn Redux. I emphasize the daily component of this benchmark because it’s been an important part of the goal I committed to at the end of July. (Source: Old House Journaling)
Then as now my emphasis on everyday journaling remains a top priority.
Over the last few years, Susan and I have scrutinized our hopes and expectations with Rosslyn. We have reevaluated our plans as they originally were in 2006 when we embarked on this adventure and as those plans evolved during the decade and a half since. It’s been an extended period of introspection, evaluating our current wants and needs, endeavoring to align our future expectations and goals with respect to one another and with respect to Rosslyn, and challenging one another to brainstorm beyond the present.
There’s no question but that our impromptu quarantine at Rosslyn during the spring and summer of 2021 catalyzed some of this soul-searching. But so too have the many life changes in recent years. Our gradual shift toward Santa Fe as our base and Essex as our getaway rather than the other way around. The loss of Susan’s mother. My parents’ retirement near us in Santa Fe. Our nephews and nieces growing up and expanding their orbits far beyond Rosslyn. A perennially postponed but driving desire to collaborate on a smaller, efficient, creative lakeside home of a different DNA altogether, an unrepressable will to imagine into existence the sort of slow cooked (albeit shapeshifting) and highly experimental homestead we originally envisioned in 2003-5 when we first began to explore our Adirondack Coast homecoming. And there is that hiccup in our 2006 original timeline, our 2-4 year vision for homing at Rosslyn until we’d managed to reboot and reground, until we were ready for our next adventure. Those naive expectations were eclipsed — willingly and joyfully — within the first year or two.
So what does this have to do with my daily Rosslyn updates?
Everything.
In committing to this daily practice last summer I was acknowledging that I had some serious work to do. In order for us to constructively sort through out collective vision for the future, to determine whether we’re too fond of Rosslyn to proceed with plans for designing and building the lakeside retreat we’ve conjured over the years, to honestly assess our willingness and our readiness to hand this sanctuary over to another family, both Susan and I are undertaking the sort of “deep work” that will hopefully enable us to make some decisions. I’m talking about 100% honest, prolonged consideration. Rosslyn has quite literally been a part of our family, and not just our nuclear family. Can we untangle her? Are we willing to let her go? Can we joyfully pass the privilege on to new custodians? Or are we not yet ready?
For me this daily practice, digging deep into sixteen and a half years of living and loving Rosslyn, is my time and place to work through these questions. To sort it all out. To find peace and confidence in my convictions. And six months in, I believe that I’m on the right path. Not all the time. There have certainly been some tangles and tangents that got away from me before I realized what was happening and reined them in. But the constant conversation — *internal* as I study, reflect, and compose these installments as well as *external* as I share these updates and then interact with many of you — is reinvigorating and reawakening Rosslyn from her comfortable slumber (and me from mine!)
So this midpoint milestone is a profoundly significant benchmark for me personally. It’s the tangible representation of my germinating confidence and clarity. It’s the measurable mean between a conflicted outlook and the conviction I’m hoping to discover over the next six months. In a real sense, it’s a halfway point toward the sort of rehabilitation that we’ve been undertaking with Rosslyn’s buildings and grounds since 2006, only in this case the journey is profoundly personal. Instead of historic architectural rehabilitation, it is restoration of my innermost wonder, my romantic dreams, and my idealistic hopes. With passion reawakened and a map forward becoming more apparent each day, I’m tempted to see this benchmark as the sort of celebration enjoyed upon finally reaching a base camp, a lofty peak viewable in the distance foreshadows the ambitious ascent ahead but also offers a majestic affirmation of the reachability and proximity of the summit. Today marks just such a halfway point, an opportunity to appreciate the accomplishments so far, and an incentive to forge ahead.
At a time when we’re inundated 24×7 with digital marketing and messaging, it’s fun to flip the calendar back 60+ years to some equivalent pre-digital promotions for regattas at the Sherwood Inn and Lake Champlain ferries (including the Essex-Charlotte ferry.) Today’s post highlights a few quotidian artifacts that offer a bridge into an earlier time.
The Essex Regatta, a still legendary Sherwood Inn event in the 1950s and 1960s, is the heralded summer celebration featured in the first two promotional posters.
Open to a wide range of water sporting contestants and spectators, I’ve been the fortunate audience to several area residents who’ve been gracious rniugh to share recollections with me.
Artifacts & Ephemera: Essex Ferry Lake Champlain (Photo: Geo Davis)
I imagine that the ferry posters may have been used during the summer months to alert motorists that ferry boats has been reopened for the season.
Although this vintage artifact from the Essex-Charlotte ferry crossing has been a personal favorite given the omnipresent sounds and sights of the ferry boat during our years at Rosslyn, the second ferry poster is deliciously vintage. From font to graphic design (and even colors) this poster seems likely to have been used during the 2969s and 1960s.
Artifacts & Ephemera: Scenic Line Ferry Lake Champlain (Photo: Geo Davis)
But even more intriguing than the colors and graphic design, it is the idea that “scenic line” might’ve been considered a reasonable way to distinguish one ferry crossing from another. After all, this certainly describes *ALL* of the fairy crossings!
What wintery wonders shall I share with you today? How about a celebration (and showcase) of upcycled Christmas gifts dreamed into existence by three allstar members of our icehouse rehab team?
Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
[pullquote]These upcycled Christmas gifts are a product and symbol of renewal.[/pullquote]
I talk and I type, but these three creative characters have reimagined and reinvented deconstruction debris into functional art and decor. They transformed a piece of old garapa decking and a handful of icehouse artifacts (uncovered during laborious hand excavation for the new foundation) into a handsome coatrack, and they transformed a gnarled piece of rusty steel back into a museum-worthy ice hook that turns the clock back 100+ years.
Let’s start with the photograph at the top of this post which Pam accompanied with the following note of explanation.
Hroth, Tony and I wanted to wish you both a very Merry Christmas. We came up with the idea to make a coat rack out of repurposed items. The wood is old garapa. I found the spikes in the icehouse during inventory and the hook was also discovered in the icehouse during excavation for the concrete floor/footers. Hroth custom made a handle for the ice hook. We also wanted to add a new hummingbird feeder to the garden outside of the breakfast area. Merry Christmas! — Pamuela Murphy
Perfection! Garapa upcycled from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck build and miscellaneous ice hauling artifacts reconciled and reborn as a new coat rack that will greet icehouse visitors upon entering the miniature foyer, and a restored antique ice hook that will be displayed prominently in the main room. Bravo, team.
Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I was curious how Hroth had fabricated the garapa handle for the ice hook out of old decking boards. It’s so round/cylindrical that it looks as if he’d used a lathe.
Two pieces of garapa laminated together. Started out about a 16 inch because it was easier to run through the table saw. I made an octagon out of it on the table saw, then used the big belt sander… I roughed it up a little bit. Didn’t want it to look too perfect. Then Pam suggested that we take a propane torch to it. Made it look older.
It was a fun project. I still need to seal the wood and the metal. Penetrating sealer works well on metal. It’s sharp… We were thinking you might want to put some corks on the ends… or garapa balls. That was the first thing I thought of. We can certainly do that. — Ottosen Hroth
Carving tiny garapa orbs to install on the spikes strikes me as the perfect way to complete the coat rack so that jackets can be hung without getting spikes. It’ll be a difficult-but-intriguing challenge! There must be some technique for creating a small wooden sphere out of a block of wood. Hhhmmm…
I can’t imagine more perfect Christmas gifts. Their collaboration has rendered layers of Rosslyn history — from the late 1800s and early 1900s when the icehouse was in use, through 2008 when we built the deck that yielded this garapa, to 2022 when the old deck was deconstructed and the icehouse rehabilitation was initiated — into timeless beauty that will adorn the icehouse when it is introduced/revealed next summer. These upcycled Christmas gifts are a product and symbol of renewal. Our gratitude is exceeded only by Hroth’s, Pam’s, and Tony’s collaborative accomplishment.
Upcycled Christmas Gifts (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Upcycled Christmas Gifts (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Upcycled Christmas Gift 2022: antique ice hook with handmade handle (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
The flip-through gallery above offers a few more details, and all three (as the two featured photographs above) are documented inside the icehouse with mid-construction backdrops: old studs with new spray foam insulation and new subfloor ready for interior framing and hardwood flooring. It’s tempting to offer tidier or even fancier backdrops, but authenticity prevails. Future decor created from old materials, documented midstream the icehouse’s transformation. Future, past, and present. Concurrent history and hope, a timeless present, an artistic representation of this liminal moment.
Backstory to Upcycled Christmas Gifts
Susan and my gratitude to Pam, Hroth, and Tony is (and obviously should be) the focus of today’s Rosslyn Redux installment, but I can’t conclude without first considering a slightly more amplified retrospective, the backstory, if you will, to the new coat rack and restored ice hook.
Let’s start by rewinding the timeline to 2008-9. Building the new deck and installing garapa decking was the proverbial caboose in a virtually endless train of construction that started in the summer of 2006. (Source: Garapa Decking 2008-2009)
In the photograph below, taken exactly fourteen years ago today, Warren Cross is putting the finishing touches on our first deck build. Although the perspective may be misleading given the still unbuilt garbage and recycling “shed” which today stands directly behind Warren, this is the northernmost extension of Rosslyn’s deck. The stone step (actually a repurposed hitching post chiseled from Chazy and Trenton limestone (aka “Essex stone”) and the rhododendron shrubs are not yet in place either.
But it you imagine the perspective as if you were standing just north of the morning room, looking back toward the carriage barn and icehouse, you’ll be oriented in no time. Oriented, yes, but nevertheless a bit disoriented too, I imagine, as you look upon a carpenter laboring in the snow to scribe and affix the garapa deck skirting / apron that will complete the installation that had began in the autumn with far more hospitable conditions.
Warren Cross completing garapa decking installation on December 22, 2008 (Photo: Geo Davis)
It’s worth noting that Warren, already in his mature years when he worked on Rosslyn with us, not only threw himself into difficult endeavors like the one above, he contributed decades’ of experience and an unsurpassed work ethic that inspired everyone with whom he worked in 2008 and 2009. But there’s an even more notable memory that describes Warren. He was a gentleman. And he was a gentle man. It was a privilege to witness Warren’s collegiality, and Rosslyn profited enduringly from his expertise. But it was his disposition, his consideration, and his kindness that make me nostalgic when I hear him mentioned or when I catch sight of him in photographs.
In terms of memories conjured by this repurposed garapa decking, I should include Hroth’s “research” this past autumn into how best we might reuse the lumber. There was such anticipation and excitement in the hours he experimented and explored. The image below perfectly illustrates the hidden gold just waiting to reemerge from the deconstructed decking material.
Hroth is continuing to experiment with the garapa decking we salvaged from our summer 2022 deck rebuild. I’m hoping to repurpose this honey toned Brazilian hardwood as paneling in the icehouse bathroom. (Source: Upcycling Decking Debris)
Hroth’s discoveries underpin our plan to panel the interior of the new icehouse bathroom with what for a decade and a half withstood the Adirondack Coast elements season after season, and a rambunctious parade of footfalls, barbecues, dog paws, wetsuits, etc. It’s as if the new coat rack exudes the anticipation and optimism that many of us brought to the journey of upcycling the old decking into the new paneling.
And there is an aside that I’m unable to resist mentioning. Pam’s late husband, Bob Murphy, who worked as our property caretaker and became an admired and dearly respected friend, several times removed and reinstalled Rosslyn’s garapa decking over the years — monitoring, triaging, and compensating for the failing TimberSIL substructure. He knew that we would need to rebuild the entire deck soon, and yet he waged a relentless campaign to extend the useful life of the deck as long as possible. I think he’d be proud of the work accomplished by the team this summer, and he sure would have loved being part of that team! And the icehouse rehab would have thrilled him. Needless to say, these upcycled Christmas gifts from Pam and Hroth and Tony also exude Bob’s smile, familiar chuckle, and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
And what about that antique ice hook?
I mentioned above an antique ice hook, and the photograph below illustrates exactly what I was referring to. Disinterred by Tony while cleaning out and grading the dirt floor of the icehouse, this badly corroded artifact bears an uncanny resemblsnce to a common tool of yesteryear: the handheld hook. This implement was most often used for 1) grabbing and hauling ice blocks and/or 2) carrying hay bales. The location where this relic was discovered (as well as plenty of examples uncovered by quick research online) strongly suggest that this is an antique ice hook. (Source: Icehouse Rehab 01: The Ice Hook)
Isn’t a beauty? Well, rusty and corroded, but a beauty nonetheless, I think.
Antique Ice Hook, artifact unearthed during the icehouse rehabilitation, 2022 (Source: R.P. Murphy)
The prospect of restoring that ice hook crossed my mind at the time. But it struck me as a challenging proposition given the advanced state of decay. What a surreal transformation from rust-crusted phantom to display-ready relic! It too is marinated in memories, some recent and personal, others vague and distant. In the near rearview mirror are the painstaking efforts made by our team to secure the historic stone foundation beneath the icehouse while ensuring the structural integrity demanded by modern building codes. A labor of loves on the parts of so many. And today we can look back from the proud side of accomplishment. As for the more distant rearview, the antique mirror has succumbed to the influence of time, the glass crazed and hazy, the metallic silver chipped and flaking. And yet we can detect traces of laughter and gossip as blocks of ice were cut from the lake, hooked and hauled up to the icehouse, and stacked in tidy tiers for cooling and consumption during temperate times ahead.
A Glimmer of Springtime
In closing this runaway post, I would like to express my warmest gratitude for the upcycled Christmas gifts above, and for a new hummingbird feeder to welcome our exuberant avian friends back in the springtime. Taken together this medley of gifts excite in Susan and me the enthusiasm and optimism for the coming months of rehabilitation and mere months from now the opportunity to celebrate a project too long deferred and so often anticipated. With luck we’ll be rejoicing together in the newly completed icehouse by the time the hummingbirds return to Rosslyn.
Hummingbird Feeder 2022 Christmas Gift from Pam, Tony, and Hroth (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Thank you, Pam, Hroth, and Tony for these perfect presents. And thank you to everyone else I’ve mentioned above for enriching this home and our lives. I look forward to rekindling these memories when I hang my coat or my cap up each time I enter the icehouse. Merry Christmas to all!
This morning I revisit a familiar and particularly popular perspective of Rosslyn’s lakefront or, to be more historically accurate, the Sherwood Inn waterfront in the early/mid 20th century.
Sherwood Inn waterfront with boathouse (Source: vintage postcard)
Sherwood Inn waterfront with boats (Source: vintage postcard)
Taken together this pair of vintage postcards forms a veritable diptych of the Sherwood Inn (aka Rosslyn) lakefront, “dock house” (aka boathouse), and a veritable flotilla of classic watercraft bobbing in Blood’s Bay.
Deciphering the Sherwood Inn Waterfront
This north-looking vantage was most likely photographed from the environs of the present day ferry dock that shuttles cars and passengers back-and-forth between Essex, New York and Charlotte, Vermont. As with most images captured almost a century ago, some details are blurry, lacking clarity and precision, but inviting the viewer’s imagination to fill in the gaps.
Looking at the second postcard (titled “Yachting on Lake Champlain, Essex, NY”) I zoom into the point where my vision — and the time sepia’ed rendering — become suggestive but unreliable. I’m studying an area on the water’s surface between the two most prominent motor cruisers, a spot slightly east of the dock house pier (visible in the first postcard).
Perhaps several small dinghies or rowboats at anchor explain what I’m seeing, but I can’t resist wondering if it isn’t a vestigial section of the northernmost pier that still exists on our waterfront today. Given the field conditions and all of the historic photographs that I’ve come across, the ruins appear to predate the dockhouse and the “coal bunker” pier that extended beyond it, originally for the Kestrel enduring into the last years of the 20th century.
Absent sharp focus and definition, this water surface anomaly distracts me, kindles my curiosity. I wonder. My mind wanders. I try to imagine the challenges of helming a boat through such a busy waterfront congested with other vessels and multiple semi-submerged hazards. We still contend with this navigational challenge to this day, and we’ve sacrificed at least two bronze propellors to the underwater ruins.
Do you see what I’m identifying as remnants of a crib dock extending west-to-east between two lengthiest cruisers? Any amateur sleuths out there? Let me know what you think…
Artifacts and Auctions
As I’ve mentioned in several previous posts, I offer these photo-postcards with a bittersweet postscript.
Recently I’ve been getting outbid in auctions of historic images of our home, boathouse, and waterfront. Did I mention that it’s the same bidder who keeps besting me? And did I mention that the prices are consistently soaring above the $200 to $300 range?
Fascinating.
I have no idea who is bidding against me, but s/he is keen to win these visual time capsules. I’d love to discover why. I’d love to discover whom. Perhaps a neighbor? Or a passerby smitten with Historic Essex?
Fortunately, my collection of Rosslyn artifacts is extensive. I often bid on photographs and postcards already in my collection. But I can’t resist adding duplicates, especially when combined with compelling missives. (Fortunately the first of the two postcards is blank on the back, and the second — the capricious capture of boats afloat —include a private but uncompelling note.)
But back to the unfolding mystery. The plot thickens. An unknown bidder consistently outcompeting yours truly after a decade or more with fairly few big dollar auctions. At the very least it’s clear that demand for historic Essex images in general (and Rosslyn images in particular) continues to increase. And to date no hint of another collector… Who. Are. You?!?! If you happen to be reading these words, please reach out. I’d love to learn what draws you to this somewhat esoteric subject. And I’d like to propose sharing images. Thanks.
Sherwood Inn Landing on Lake Champlain (Source: Rosslyn Redux)
Doubling Down
The good news is that I already own one of these two postcards. The image above of the Sherwood Inn waterfront photograph (with boathouse) has been in my collection for quite a few years. If you look closely you may notice a few subtle differences with the image at the top of this post.
I published this postcard (postmarked July 24, 1959) on May 21, 2015 in a post titled, “Sherwood Inn Landing on Lake Champlain” which includes the sender’s note. Yes, sometimes it’s worth sharing.
By way of conclusion, I’m embedding the Instagram post of these postcards which elicited some interesting comments/feedback that you may enjoy reading.
Sherwood Inn advertisement from 1949 Adirondack Guide. (Source: Adirondack Guide via David Brayden)
Many thanks to David Brayden for discovering and sharing a 1949 Adirondack Guide that showcased Essex, NY alongside a vintage Sherwood Inn advertisement (above), the only Essex ad included in the book.
It turns out that David Brayden is not only a talented doodler. He turns out to be as skilled an Essex artifact hunter as his son, Scott Brayden (Scott Brayden Digs Essex History), who recently made his second exploration of Rosslyn’s subterranean treasures. (More on what he disinterred soon!)
[Note: If you missed David Brayden’s August 3, 2013 Old Dock House doodle here’s a quick recap.]
Essex Dock House doodle by David Brayden (Source: essexonlakechamplain.com)
[During Downtown Essex Day 2013 we presented passers-by with a doodle challenge.] “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of Essex, New York?” David Brayden… quickly sketched out this simple building and labeled it “Dock House.” The Old Dock Restaurant is a prominent Essex building that is one of the most recognizable to passengers coming in on the Essex-Charlotte ferry with it’s red exterior, so it’s no surprise to see that as a response! (Source: essexonlakechamplain.com)
Taproom, Beach, Lawn Sports & More
On July 28, 2016 I received an email from David explaining that he’d come across the vintage Sherwood Inn advertisement (above), and he believed that it was Rosslyn.
Indeed it was. He was 100% correct.
I’ve touched on Rosslyn’s lodging/dining past previously (see Sherwood Inn Remembered and Sherwood Inn Landing on Lake Champlain), but details continue to emerge. Like the initials and last name of the proprietor and manager, C. W. Sherwood and F. S. Sherwood. I’d love to learn more about the Sherwoods. So far, the trail is faint…
Before taking a look at the rest of the Adirondack Guide lent to me by David Brayden, I’ll recap the information from the advert.
While the vintage Sherwood Inn advertisement initially grabbed my attention, the entire book was interesting. The full title is Adirondack Guide: Vacationland In Picture, Story and History, and it is a comprehensive town-by-town tourist guide to the Adirondacks. A prior edition was published between 1945 and 1947, and then revised in 1949 resulting in the edition that David loaned to me.
Here’s the write-up for Essex, NY.
The charming little village of Essex is located directly on the shores of Lake Champlain. Essex is rich in historical lore and was the route of explorers and missionaries as far back as 1609. During the Revolutionary war 1776-1784 it was the scene of many an exciting battle in the region of naval engagements and the War of 1812.
On Route 22 (the scenic lakeshores route and one of the main highways from New York to Montreal) it is served by the Delaware and Hudson Railroad. Among the innumerable summer sports the principal ones are swimming, boating, canoeing, fishing, all in Lake Champlain. The chief sport in winter is fishing through the ice for delicious Lake Champlain ice-fish.
The natural beauty of it setting is unexcelled, situated as it as it is on beautiful Lake Champlain in the foothills of the Adirondacks. Mts. Marcy (highest in New York) Whiteface and Hurricane form an impressive backdrop and across the Lake are the Green Mountains of Vermont with Mts. Mansfield, Camel’s Hump and Lincoln predominating the panorama. Essex is indeed deserving of the description which so many people have given it as “One of the Most Beautiful Spots on Lake Champlain.” (Source: Page 171, Adirondack Guide: Vacationland In Picture, Story and History, edited by Arthur S. Knight, 1945-1947, Revised 1949, published and printed by Adirondack Resorts Press, Inc. Lake George, New York)
1949 Adirondack Guide: Gallery
It’s challenging to narrow down the many local-ish vignettes, but present context leads me to include the write-up for Willsboro, NY in the gallery below. I’ve also included a full page advertisement for Camp-of-the-Pines that appears on the page preceding the Willsboro description. I’ve never before heard mention of Camp-of-the-Pines, but I instantly recognized the property from my frequent Willsboro Point bike rides.
Cover of 1949 Adirondack Guide that feature Essex and Willsboro, and that includes a Sherwood Inn advertisement. (Source: Adirondack Guide via David Brayden)
Title page of 1949 Adirondack Guide that feature Essex and Willsboro, and that includes a Sherwood Inn advertisement. (Source: Adirondack Guide via David Brayden)
Feature on Essex, NY in 1949 Adirondack Guide. (Source: Adirondack Guide via David Brayden)
Camp-of-the-Pines advertisement from 1949 Adirondack Guide. (Source: Adirondack Guide via David Brayden)
Feature on Willsboro, NY in 1949 Adirondack Guide. (Source: Adirondack Guide via David Brayden)
If you’re lucky enough to find a copy of this long out-of-print treasure, take a moment to leaf through its nostalgic pages. It offers an enchanting time capsule of the Adirondacks half a century ago.
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
Did you ever vacation at the Sherwood Inn in Essex, New York? If so, you’ve been a guest in our home! That’s right, long before Rosslyn became our home, it operated as a lakeside accommodation for travelers and a restaurant and tavern for everyone. This vintage Sherwood Inn brochure (I’m guessing it dates to the 1950s, but I’d welcome clarifying insights) offers a pretty slick promotion of the spot that many decades later still enchants us.
Sherwood Inn Brochure
Lest your eyeballs struggle with reading the copy in the brochure image above, let’s make it a little easier.
“Sherwood Inn is located in the charming little village of Essex-on-Lake-Champlain, New York. On Route 22, the scenic Lakeshore route and one of the main highways from New York to Montreal, it is served directly by the Delaware & Hudson Railroad.
The Inn, a fine example of authentic Colonial, is more than 100 years old. Carefully modernized by particular owners, it provides the conveniences of the new with out sacrificing any of the charm and dignity of the old.
A private beach and dock provide facilities for swimming, boating and fishing.” (Source: Sherwood Inn Brochure)
Before I dip into the time-tinged prose, I’d like to thank longtime Essex resident Jim LaForest for gifting us this Sherwood Inn brochure. What a welcome surprise when it showed up, transporting me back to a time well before my birth, and a period in Rosslyn’s history that I’m still sorting out. In particular, this brochure excited me because it is the very first visual rendering of the long gone Sherwood Inn Cottages.
The natural beauty of the setting of Sherwood Inn is unexcelled, situated as it is on beautiful Lake Champlain, in the foothills of the Adirondacks. Fronting directly on Lake Champlain, which is 138 miles long and unsurpassed in beauty by any lakes in America, the Inn commands sweeping views over the Lake into the Green Mountains of Vermont. To the rear are the lofty heights of the rugged Adirondacks.
Lovely trees furnish delightful shade. Lawn sports on the well-kept grounds include badminton, croquet and archery. An excellent golf course is available to guests a short distance away. One of the chief winter sports is fishing thru the ice for delicious Lake Champlain icefish. Grand sport and lots of fun!
The guestrooms are beautiful — large and airy, delightfully furnished — many with original fireplaces. A spacious porch across the front of the Inn invites the vacationer to lounge and enjoy the gorgeous panorama before him of Lake and mountains.
Guests are assured a splendid table — all home cooking. Menus are varied and only the best quality foods used.
Fresh eggs, pasteurized milk, and cream and fresh vegetables are procured from nearby farms . We have our own purified water system and water is tested regularly by the New York State Dept. of Health.
A Colonial Taproom with bar and joining outdoor Terrace furnish cheerful atmosphere.
Sherwood Inn is just a short walk from the quaint village of Essex, which has such attractions and conveniences as a moving picture theatre, post office, public library and general shopping district. (Source: Sherwood Inn Brochure)
Sounds like quite a spot! Icefish and a colonial taproom? If only I could unearth some additional photographs from guests of the Sherwood Inn to help illuminate these holiday delights. The Keuhlen family vacation snapshots, for example, offer an intimate, nostalgic glimpse into those days at the Sherwood Inn / Rosslyn. I suspect there are others out there just waiting to be discovered. Maybe one will even demystify the location of the former Sherwood Inn Cottages.
Let’s take a look at the reverse side of the trifold brochure where the Sherwood Inn Cottages at long last make an appearance.
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
The recently acquired cottages are situated slightly to the side of the Inn and facing the Lake. Each consists of bedroom, shower and lavatory and porch which afford a beautiful view.
Essex is rich in historical lore — this whole region having featured prominently in the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812. We are within easy driving distance of such points of interest as Ausable Chasm, Fort Ticonderoga and Whiteface Mountain. Lake Placid is only 40 miles away, Montreal 100 miles north, and Burlington, Vermont just across the lake.
Through the summer months, a Ferry runs directly from Essex to Charlotte, Vermont.
Catholic and Protestant churches are within easy walking distance. (Source: Sherwood Inn Brochure)
You’d think that between the photograph of the cottages and the description of where they were situated, it would be clear enough where on the property the three (?) cottages once stood. But the photograph offers no real clues, and the description is overly general. After all. “slightly to the side of the Inn and facing the Lake” offers only the most minimal guidance. Were they built on the front lawn, north of the house? Did they stand somewhere on the upper lawn, perhaps north of the basswood (American Linden) tree?
As often, I conclude this post with more questions with answers. Perhaps one of you will have the missing clue?
Click on the images below to view larger details from the brochure.
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
Sherwood Inn Brochure c. 1950s (Source: Jim Laforest)
Florence Sherwood, Phil Keuhlen, and Chuck Sherwood at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
One of the great joys in owning Rosslyn these last 15 years (hard to believe it’s been a decade and a half since we purchased our Essex home from Elizabeth and George McNulty!) has been discovering the memorabilia of those who’ve come before us. So many Rosslyn memories, stories, and artifacts. Today I’d like to introduce you to the Keuhlen family who vacationed at the Sherwood Inn in August 1951.
Almost three years ago I was contacted by Phillip Keuhlen via the Rosslyn Redux page on Facebook. The impetus for his outreach was contextualizing photographs from a family vacation in Essex many decades ago. I was immeasurably grateful for the opportunity to peer into Rosslyn’s past when the property was operated as the Sherwood Inn. As happens remarkably often in this quirky existence, Phil and I uncovered a handful of additional life overlaps, the sharing of which has evolved into a penpal friendship of sorts.
I asked Phil recently to remind me how we had initially connected.
As for how we came to be in correspondence, it started with a group of photos sent to me from my Mom’s estate, and thinking I might provide some context for my children if they were ever of interest to them.
The breadcrumbs lined up thus:
Internet search on “Sherwood Inn”… much too broad… you would be surprised at the number!
From there to a link to your Rosslyn Redux website
Finally to initial contact via messenger after following link to your FB page…
Digital breadcrumbs for a fortuitous connection across an historic and geographic divide. Oh, brave new world!
Tantalizing Time Capsules
What is it about time capsules, especially serendipitous time capsules? Is it the wink of familiarity across decades, despite initial dissimilarities? Is there just something intrinsically compelling about time-hazed mirrors and patinated backstories? Something irresistibly intriguing about glimpsing earlier iterations of our realities?
I can’t answer these questions, but I suspect that there’s something universal in the fascination I experience when permitted to time travel backward into Rosslyn’s history. My earnest hunch, squinting eyes, and furrowed brow – perhaps the subtle conceits of an amateur sleuth – and my fluttering pulse are familiar and welcome as I study the black and white images shared by a man who lives on the other side of the country, a man I’ve never actually met in person, a man who has generously shared a nostalgic cache of personal artifacts that just happen to illuminate Rosslyn’s blurry past, a sneak peek into an earlier chapter of the property we’ve been revitalizing for years.
In that first photograph above Phil Keuhlen as a youngster is flanked by his proud parents. They’re kneeling in front of a porch that adorned Rosslyn’s East facade for many years. At first the brick home as we know it today isn’t recognizable to me. And then it is. A flash of familiarity. The entrance door sidelights with those delicate, curved mullions are unmistakable.
Florence Sherwood, Phil Keuhlen, and Chuck Sherwood at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
They are better visible in the photograph above as well, however the center transom light (over the door) appears to have been altered at some point.
Adding to my good fortune, Phil has filled in details that his family photographs leave out.
Here are the Sherwood Inn photos I promised… All were taken in August 1951. We lived in Bloomfield, NJ at the time. The little guy in the photos is me at 2 weeks shy of my 2nd birthday. Wish I could offer more background, but both of my folks have passed and the first of my siblings had not joined us yet, so there is no one else left to ask. My only recollection of that vacation is a vague memory of falling backwards and getting briefly stuck between a bench and a bulkhead on a ferry trip across Lake Champlain! Look closely at the one whose file title includes “Note Sign” and you will see a sign for Sherwood Inn in the background. It says there were cabins available… not sure if that is news to you. There is also one that is very blurry… that I included because it shows that there used to be an extension well beyond your boathouse. The names of Florence & Chuck Sherwood, staff member Jean and guest/daughter(?) Judy are all retrieved from my Mom’s contemporaneous inscriptions on the back of the photos.
There’s plenty to muse and chuckle over in Phil’s message, but two threads especially strike me.
Let’s start with Phil’s mother’s “contemporaneous inscriptions on the back of the photos”. The photographs are opulent time capsules in and of themselves. They instantly offer a potent visual connection across the decades, an accessible and inviting bridge between now and then. The presence of Phil, his parents, and several others in the photographs contributes to the allure. These are not mere architectural artifacts. They are intimate snapshots of love and laughter and memories-in-the-making in the very same yard, beach, buildings where we love and laugh and make memories seventy years later. There’s a relevance and resonance that functions like a time machine, embracing two disconnected slivers of time so that they overlap for a moment.
And that is just a reaction to the time tarnished images. The inscriptions that Phil refers to remind me of the messages memorialized on the back sides of vintage postcards I collect.
Although I remain somewhat conflicted whether or not it’s appropriate to share the messages from vintage and antique postcards, I tend toward a quasi-archeological justification (unless the content is obviously sensitive or inappropriate). (Source: Sherwood Inn Landing on Lake Champlain – Rosslyn Redux)
From time to time these words illuminate the image. Time capsules in and of themselves, these quickly scrawled artifacts can enrich and amplify the value of the photographs. This is certainly the case with the notes recorded by Phil’s mother.
I’m especially intrigued to see mention of Florence and Chuck Sherwood. Although I’ve been fortunate in amassing many artifacts from the days that Rosslyn served as the Sherwood Inn, I’m thin on information about this couple. And the staff member smiling in the photos below, who is she? Might she be identifiable? Is she perhaps still a member of our Essex community?
Phil Keuhlen with Jean (staff) at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
Jean, Sherwood Inn staff, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
And Phil’s young companion, Judy, will she remain a mystery? Or perhaps a dash of crowd research will help us to identify her as well.
Phil Keuhlen and Judy at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
Phil Keuhlen and Judy at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
What gratitude I feel to Phil (and to Phil’s mother) for recording and sharing these moments. And yet, I can’t help but repeat thoughts from an earlier post about a vintage photograph.
This faded photograph kindles nostalgia and wonder, revealing a glimpse into the history of Rosslyn… while dangling further mysteries to compell me deeper into the narrative of our home. Kindred sleuths are welcome! (Source: Rosslyn Boathouse, circa 1907 – Rosslyn Redux)
Phil Keuhlen at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
As for the second thread I’d like to revisit, Phil mentions the Sherwood Inn sign in the photograph above.
It says there were cabins available… not sure if that is news to you.
While the presence of cabins or cottages at the Sherwood Inn is known to us, this is a reminder that we’ve never managed to locate any record (photograph, title, etc.) that precisely captures the locations or looks of these cabins. I’d like to. I’m hoping that somebody may have snapped a photograph once upon a time.
Rosslyn Boathouse
As I’ve mentioned time and again since I began sharing this story over a decade ago, it was Rosslyn’s boathouse with which I was initially smitten. It’s my first and enduring passion when it comes to this property. So, needless to say, Phil’s mother’s photographs of the boathouse are especially captivating for me.
Keuhlen Family at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
Although salvaging and rehabilitating this architectural folly was an epic project, it’s immensely satisfying to see that there are so few differences between today’s pier, dock house, and gangway (to shore) and their earlier iteration in the photograph. Preserving this +/-125 year old Essex monument is a perennial challenge. Engineering and construction location hurdles for “a boathouse that was one ice flow away from a watery grave” were not insignificant. And then there was the ahistoric flooding. Not the 1983 flood which took place more than two decades prior to our ownership. The 2011 flood, on the other hand, visited weeks upon weeks of high water upon us immediately after we had completed the boathouse’s lengthy renovation.
The second Keuhlen family photo of Rosslyn’s boathouse was taken when the photographer turned slightly more eastward, away from the beach and toward Vermont.
There is also one that is very blurry… that I included because it shows that there used to be an extension well beyond your boathouse.
Phil’s note touches on one of the notable differences with Rosslyn’s 21st century boathouse. Although a portion of the cantilevered section at the end of the boathouse remains, the extensive pier that continued eastward through the 1990s is no longer extant. Ruins of the old stone and timber crib dock remain however, and they’re visible at low water (usually August to September or October). An ice flow approximately a decade prior to our purchase effectively erased what at one time more than doubled the pier’s extension into Lake Champlain. A studious eye can spy the original pier (and the coal bunker built atop it) in these posts: “Kestrel 1892 Steam Yacht in Essex” and “Rosslyn Boathouse, circa 1907“.
Phil Keuhlen at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
Toward a Poetics of Place
I mentioned at the opening to this post that Phil and I have discovered several uncanny life coincidences. While some (i.e. New Mexico parallels) aren’t germane in this blog post, others are. It turns out that Phil and my wife, Susan, grew up — albeit a generation apart — within walking distance from one another. And his family was similarly drawn to old home rehabilitation.
Funny how small the world can be, huh? My folks restored an old Victorian house in Glen Ridge, the little town between Montclair & Bloomfield… When they took possession, there was a (leaky) slate roof, a well in the attached shed, a coal fired boiler, an earthen floor in the basement, some remnants of lead piping and gas lighting. I learned a lot watching and helping with that rolling renovation… largely an early lesson in blowing cost and schedule. I used to joke with my parents that I would have been a genius if I hadn’t ingested all the dust from sanding and scraping lead based paint in that house as a youngster! […] My folks lived in that old home from 1954 until they moved to Colorado in 1970, and subsequent owners have been generous in allowing my family occasional walks down memory lane there. It sounds like Rosslyn has the same attraction of fond associations for many in Essex. I explored your site some more and found the link to the article in OHJ. Your restoration is simply stunning.
I want to close by telling you how much I have enjoyed your blog. I lived in Saratoga Springs in ’72-’73 and enjoyed exploring up your way every chance I got (ok… when not casting on the Battenkill or Ausable). You write evocatively about a special part of this beautiful country and the history that is integral to a sense of place and community.
I too want to close by telling Phil Keuhlen how much I have enjoyed these photographs and our communications, conversations sometimes rooted in a shared experience of the Sherwood Inn / Rosslyn and other times meandering far afield. It has brought me immense satisfaction journeying into this 1951 time capsule through the memories and artifacts of a stranger-turned-friend. And I am humbled once again with the proof that a sense of place and community is the heart and soul of Rosslyn Redux. I have approached this topic tangentially for years, wondering and wandering toward a better understanding of what defines our Rosslyn experience; what bound us so passionately to this property from our first encounter; and what after all are home, home-ness, homing?
In the early days of this blog I suspected our inside-out rehabilitation story might offer something useful — even practical — to others pursuing similar adventures. Perhaps this is still sometimes the case. But I’ve mostly migrated from prescriptive to curious. Wonder has long since eclipsed practical. Still coalescing is what I’ve come to see as a poetics of place.
With that somewhat nebulous prognostication, I close this pre-Thanksgiving post with heartfelt appreciation to Phil and his late mother. Your gift of memory and family artifacts are now woven inextricably into the Rosslyn narrative. Given the overalled youngster’s self assurance in this final photograph below, it seems almost inevitable that his grown up self would reach across the country and across the years to reconnect with a place that endures in memory. A place that endures as our home. An auspicious connection for sure! Thank you.
Father and son, Al Keuhlen (r) and Phil Keuhlen (l), at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951 (Source: Phil Keuhlen)
Our first full workweek is in the rearview mirror, so Rosslyn’s icehouse rehabilitation is officially underway. No gold plated spade plunged into the earth, no glossy speeches, and no hoopla aside from a collective sigh of relief, some well earned rest today, and an antique ice hook. A what?!?! More about the ice hook in a moment.
Let the photo above be proof that clean-out and demo are now complete. It’s time to commemorate the ceremonial starting point for our long anticipated quest to rehabilitate Rosslyn’s historic utility building into a functionally relevant utility building for the 21st century. In the weeks ahead we’ll share the vision, introduce the team transforming this vision into reality, and invite you into the collaborative creative process.
Week 01 Recap
https://www.instagram.com/reel/CjcS50UA2nu/
The short videos above and below offer the best insight into progress and present conditions.
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cjgl6ABAGcU/
Although last week was the first *official* foray into this project, it was made possible by several weeks of preliminary work completed by Pam and Tony (emptying the contents of the building, inventorying the architectural salvage and building materials that will be repurposed in this project, transporting and storing everything into the carriage barn and a rented storage container parked west of the barns for the duration of the project.) There’s always a lot more to launching a new construction project than expected, and ample credit is due to everyone — Pam, Hroth, Tony, Eric, Andrew, Justin — who successfully tackled the site prep. And behind the scenes, Tiho Dimitrov spent the week fine-tuning construction plans in conjunction with Thomas Weber who’s responsible for engineering the structural plan. All of these committed collaborators have gotten us to the starting gate.
The Ice Hook
I mentioned above an antique ice hook, and the photograph below illustrates exactly what I was referring to. Disinterred by Tony while cleaning out and grading the dirt floor of the icehouse, this badly corroded artifact bears an uncanny resemblsnce to a common tool of yesteryear: the handheld hook. This implement was most often used for 1) grabbing and hauling ice blocks and/or 2) carrying hay bales. The location where this relic was discovered (as well as plenty of examples uncovered by quick research online) strongly suggest that this is an antique ice hook. What do you think?
It’s always a treat to discover Rosslyn artifacts. Can you just barely spy our boathouse beyond the moored boats?
This intriguing photograph was received from part-time Essex neighbor, Christine Herrmann. This generous Sandy Beach friend has allowed us to traverse her Lake Champlain waterfront with our tractor to rebuild and maintain our seawall during autumn’s low-water levels. And – as if that weren’t enough to qualify her for neighbor superstardom — she periodically shares patinaed glimpses into the sometimes recent, sometimes distant history of our home, waterfront, and village.
“Here’s another photo I found of a long ago summer. Not sure what year but probably early 1950’s. I’m pretty sure it’s of the Essex Regatta, but I do not know any of the boats. Maybe someone will know more.” ~ Christine Herrmann
I am long fond of vintage boats and especially keen on vintage photographs of the summer celebrations that drew boaters and spectators from many miles away to the north shore of Essex Village half a century ago. Although I never experienced the Essex Regattas, I can almost summon up the excited cheers, the starting horns, the healing sailboats, the grinning water skiers, and the roaring speedboats from photographs and newsclippings. I keep hoping that I will stumble across an old home movie if the Essex Regattas, but until then imagination and the generosity of others will serve me well.
Beekeeper Rendezvous 1924 (Source: Lake Placid News, August 29, 1924)
Almost 100 years ago Rosslyn (a.k.a. Hyde Gate Farm) hosted a beekeeper rendezvous. Or, to be more precise Professor Wilson, from Cornell’s Dept. of Agriculture, and Mr. Rae, New York State’s “chief inspector” (of apiaries?), hosted a gathering of beekeepers at Rosslyn.
Now & Then
Although any Rosslyn artifact piques my interest, this news clip served as a reminder that
I’ve intended to learn the art and science of beekeeping and honey production for quite some time,
I supported a crowdfunding campaign for Flow Hives 5-6 years ago (or even longer ago?!?!),
I received my beehive and related apparatus from Flow Hive almost as long ago, and
I’ve neglected this goal for a long time. Too long!
Ever since I began planting Rosslyn’s orchard I started daydreaming about bees pollinating our fruit trees and rendering delicious honey in the process. But, “a dream without a plan is just a wish”, right? And today we are still reliant on nature’s own supply of honeybees, butterflies, hummingbirds, etc. to ensure the fertilization of our apples, pears, stone fruit, mulberries, and persimmon. If only I could teleport back to August 29, 1924 and learn the ropes from this probably well experienced cohort. So often I feel this history distorting nostalgia for knowledge buried in Rosslyn’s long line of yesterdays. And as often I’ve recognized the unlikely chance of time travel and settled for a patchwork quilt of now-and-thens.
Beekeeper Rendezvous 1924
Contemporary contextualizing aside, there are a couple of intriguing tidbits that I can’t resist the temptation to explore before letting this sepia snippet from an ooold newspaper fall back into the kindling box.
Let’s look at the full classified notice.
FIELD DAY FOR BEE MEN A field day at Hyde Gate Farm, Essex, for Essex County beekeepers is on this afternoon. Prof. Wilson of the department of agriculture at Cornell is present as is also Mr. Rae, chief inspector for the state of New York. Luncheon served free of charge to all beekeepers and their families. (Lake Placid News, August 29, 1924, page 12)
The title alone is evocative. It conjures a cinematographic scene with gentlemen farmers and at least a couple of officious types gathering in the high grass somewhere west of Rosslyn’s carriage barn. At the time there would have been several barns — the present day carriage barn with a lean-to barn running along the southern facade, a smaller barn conjoined to the west facade, a freestanding barn southwest of the carriage barn, the present day icehouse, and a dovecote (i.e. dovehouse / pigeon house) located just east of the icehouse — so a panoramic view of the gents huddling around hives in a sun soaked meadow would have required a slightly circuitous amble to the north or south of the barns, perhaps through the gardens where the beekeepers’ families were conversing in twos and threes while sipping lemonade, eagerly awaiting the complementary luncheon… Can you see it?
You’ll note that I’ve specified men learning in earnest, listening to a presenter gesticulating toward the hives, everyone acting relaxed but secretly a little edgy about the number of been coming and going in the increasingly hot mid-day temperature. Men and not women. Not children. I’m taking a leap, but it seems to be likely, especially given the linguistic tilt of the title which invites “bee men” in particular rather than beekeepers as referenced in the first sentence of the listing. Perhaps I reach too far. It’s compelling to envision a couple of female beekeepers among the gentlemen farmers, poised and confident month the buzzing swarm.
Also intriguing is the reference to Hyde Gate Farm. I’m familiar with the years that Rosslyn was known as Hyde Gate House, but this little shift in nomenclature intrigues me.
A family named Walmsley of New Orleans, La. then became owners and later Mrs. Caleb J. Coatsworth bought the house. (about 1907 or 1908) When Mrs. Coatsworth died, her daughter, Mrs. Howard Hill, fell heir to the property.(1912) During ownership of the Hill family the place was named Hyde Gate House.
In 1937 Essex county assumed ownership, but sold to Richard R. Williams in 1941. Mr. Williams in turn, sold Hyde Gate House to Sloane E. Miller in 1942, who disposed of the property in 1945 to Mr. and Mrs. W. Sherwood, the present owners and occupants. (Source: Favored by Fortune: Sherwood Inn Flashback)
So it would seem that starting with Mrs. C.J. Coatsworth or Mrs. Howard Hill the property became known as Hyde Gate House and Hyde Gate Farm. I admit finding a certain pleasure in recognizing Rosslyn’s agricultural DNA since the property is mostly associated with its mercantile forbears and later it’s incarnation as The Sherwood Inn. I like to think of the +/-60 acres that we’ve been fortunate enough to gradually aggregate as a farm once again, Rosslyn Farms.
But I’m off on a self indulgent tangent, so I’d best return to the newspaper.
The reference to Cornell also draws my attention as it highlights the extensive history that today’s Cornell Cooperative Extension has invested in this region. And I’ll close this peripatetic post with two final editorial asides.
First, I draw your attention to the subtle enticement (free food for the whole family!) luring beekeepers away from their chores and homes. A tried and true formula that reminds me of a memory shared by a friend. During his college years a rock-and-roll band went by the peculiar name, Free Beer, and their performances emblazoned across bulletin boards across campus never failed to draw a capacity crowd.
My final aside may simply highlight a technicality, but it nevertheless brought a curious eyebrow lift when I read it. The listing suggests that the event is happening on the day that the paper was printed. In order for the notice to be of use, newspapers would need to be purchased and read first thing in the morning. Perhaps this is one of several successive notices. Or perhaps the promo team dropped the ball and waited to the last minute (ergo free lunch!). Most intriguing of all is the real time relevance of the newspaper for people living a long time prior to our 24×7 information age where messaging is virtually instantaneous and the plugged in population might occasionally dismiss prior generations as being a little disconnected, etc. Far from it. Read the paper over breakfast, change up the days plans, pack the family into your Model T, and head over to Hyde Gate Farm for a beekeeping field day and luncheon!
Beekeeper Rendezvous 1924 (Source: Lake Placid News, August 29, 1924)
Room keys from the days when our home was an inn, a restaurant, a tavern, and a waterfront travel destination. We inherited these Sherwood Inn room keys (along with so many other cool artifacts) when we purchased Rosslyn. And, despite their practical irrelevance today, it’s hard to throw them away.
Drop in any mailbox. We guarantee postage.
It’s fun to see the “Drop in any mailbox…” message on these vintage key fobs. Remember when that was a pretty common detail for hotel room keys? Of course, that’s when accommodations still handed out real keys. Nowadays virtually everything including room keys has switched over to digital. But a plastic card with a msg strip has a totally different vibe yo an imprinted fob and room key. Especially a skeleton key!
I don’t remember ever needing to mail a key back to a hotel, but it’s a super practical idea. I wonder if it’d still work… Modern key cards probably find their way into trash cans a lot more often than these old school forebears.
