Sunday, February 26, 2017

Winter, Cows, Fog, The Old Town of Eaton Museum and Me!

Burchard Farm as it used to look...still standing in Pine Woods
It seems everyone has been down with something health wise this winter.  For those that haven’t been affected physically they have been depressed by the ups and downs of the weather.  I myself am one!  It had to be tough on animals with near zero to mid sixties and back again. This got me thinking about the cows, yes the cows.
Few people realize the role the Town of Eaton has played in the history of the Holstein-Friesian breed whose relatives still dot the countryside today.  Many know of Gerrit Smith Miller and his famous cow, but few realize that the Chenango Breeders Association brought the first actual breeding herd here from Holland in the 1800’s.  As a matter of fact the group of Eatonites included Sylvester Burchard, Charles Payne and a very interesting man called by many Deacon (Alva) Cole.  As a matter of fact Burchard and Payne wrote the rules the breed was judged by. (I have some of Cole’s and Burchard’s artifacts and pictures in the Old Town of Eaton Museum.) It is also interesting to note that the old Burchard Farm was the first dairy in Madison County.
So with that being said… the “FOG” we had the other night down here made me think of a good story I remembered. One of the many things I did not realize when I move here was the meaning of the term “leavings”.  Old Nellie Wooten always would say as she went here or there that there were a mess of leavings. Okay, what are leavings? But not inquiring…. I would just shrug my shoulders and figure it was something or other. I finally realized the actual meaning once, which made sense months later.
It was a hot spring week, but the nights were still quite cool, and my cat Chat my cat woke me up and kept running to the side door. I got up and followed him as Chat was very smart, and I assumed some- thing was wrong. As we went out onto the porch I could hear this mooing that sounded eerie. It was dancing in the thick pea soup fog that had arisen. It seemed to be moving at one point, then sounded as if it was in my back yard, but neither the cat or I could see anything.
The next morning I went across the street to my neighbor Mike Curtis’ and asked, “Were there cows loose running around town last night”? He just laughed at me. ”It’s the fog, it makes everything sound that way!” I walked over to Bob Rollins, struck up a conversation and told him about it. He said, “Oh the fog can really fool you; it was for sure the farm up above.” He told me a story about how some local men had been lost in the local swamp after going bullhead fishing because the fog was so thick. He said they even had to send a search group after them when they did not return home! Something I stored in my memory should I ever go bullhead fishing in a swamp in spring! 
Just then Nellie came strolling down the street heading “over town” as she called it. I greeted her and asked her if she had heard cows roaming in the back yards last night. She said no but asked if I had looked in my back yard for leavings!
Ah, leavings. All of the bells and whistles went off in my head: leavings! Sure enough, there were cow leavings, and the piles of stuff that they left were quite visible. Even today I politely call them leav- ings!

So csome to the old Town of Eaton this Spring and view “Cow” history!


Friday, February 10, 2017

Eaton History, Bob's Mini Mart and Old Times!

Old Picture of Robie's Drug Store
This has been a sad year so far.  The old group has lost so many of its originals.  I was really sad to hear of the passing of Bob Cramphin.  Thinking of Bob brought back so many memories of 20 years ago when the little community worked together to put on a special event.Bob ran the grocery and gas station, and it was a great place to shop. You didn’t have to go far if you needed something, and believe me, the closest grocery store is in Morrisville or Hamilton, over 5 miles away in each direction.Bob was a very quiet person who served good coffee and I, because of his formal demeanor, would call him ‘Robare’.For our Bicentennial in Eaton I wrote the poem below for his ad in our history book since the mini mart was located on the site of the very famous Robie Drugstore in Eaton. The drugstore was a Mecca for summer folk and the rich who in Eaton’s Victorian heyday had ice cream there, bought ice, and bought very expensive souvenirs to take back to New York City.

After setting the whole Eaton Bicentennial thing in motion in 4 months and killing myself to get everything in place the morning of the event, people were disheartened because it was pouring rain at 7 am. But I was optimistic … the weather would improve... so I went into the mini -mart to find someone to help me get the 8 foot Birthday Cake from a Morrisville restaurant where we had stashed it. I found Bob a “basket case”; he was actually shaking. He said ,“I’m more nervous than you are!” He was too.


Yes, Bob’s Mini Mart stood right where the old Robie Drugstore used to stand. That drugstore was talked about by all of the locals during the time I lived in Eaton.


Eaton was quite a hot spot in its day. Of historical interest is the fact that when they tore the drugstore building down, Hyle Poole, who had bought the old Union School to turn it into a residence, purchased the two large front store windows. Today, if you drive by the historic marker on Brooklyn Street and look at the Old Union School, which was Pauline Brown’s house, you will see the two large windows still in place.


Today the mini mart is called the A=Z Mart. Condolences to the family and all the community that can remember hanging around or working at Bob's Mini Mart!


Bob’s

The mini-mart has taken the place
Of ye old country store.
Where people stop to fill their tanks,
But oh it’s so much more.
A spot to gather and chat a spell,
To catch up with the news.

A place that carries almost anything,
One could ever use.
Neighbors greeting neighbors,
With a handshake or a hi!
Children looking through a case
For candy they can buy.
Bait to fish, shells to hunt,

Or socks to keep you warm.

A place to check the temperature
 And hear of an impending storm.
A dusty picture hangs above the door,
It’s faded and unclear.

It seems that it’s the old drugstore,
That used to stand right here.