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I reached a point on my last vacation when I thought the unthinkable – “I wish I was shorter.’’   I was creeping down a passage to reach a pharaoh’s tomb, almost duckwalking to keep my back and shoulders from scraping the roof. If I straightened up, I probably would have knocked myself out byContinue reading “Pharaoh’s tombs and airplanes weren’t built for bigmen”

    I glanced at the book probably 50 times in recent summers before I asked my sister to open her bookcase. The bookcover featured a young, wavy-haired woman, presumably sitting on a riverbank, before a giant orb – either the sun setting or the moon rising.    My sister Maureen pulled out this vintage bookContinue reading “Books set at St. Lawrence River made a splash before WWI”

            When my great-great-grandfather traveled from Herkimer County to Virginia to serve in the Civil War in 1861, he was outfitted in Union blues with a Springfield rifle. The gun sat hidden and overlooked in a corner of my grandparents’ summer kitchen for several years, perhaps 40. Its next destination was my Uncle Paul’sContinue reading “Tracing a Springfield rifle through my family history”

    Dick Hollis hails from a generation when duck decoys were carved by hand. You didn’t swing through a discount store and pay about $40 for a six-pack of decoys made from plastics or synthetics. You carved them  amid a pile of shavings in a workshop, with shelves holding brushes and cans of brightly-tinted paints.Continue reading “Lisbon decoy carver tries to preserve a vanishing art”

       Ever since I heard the president’s absurd Lake America name change, my mind has been doing cartwheels.       Can anyone arbitrarily change the centuries-old name of Lake Ontario? Will the St. Lawrence River become the next bargaining chip in the insane trade war with Canada? Do the Great Lakes belong to history or theContinue reading “Elbows are up on both sides of the border over Lake America”

     When I limped into the MRI lab, I felt intimidated. The magnetic resonance imaging machine resembled a huge, white hottub. It filled most of the room. I was about to lie on a padded slab and be rolled beneath this X-ray elephant for half an hour.     I simultaneously felt small, insignificant, yet absolutelyContinue reading “The MRI and Mr. Chicken”

  When the announcement broke last week that President Trump claimed his 43rd golf title, I chuckled.   I’m not jealous of his hardware haul. This has nothing to do with his stance on immigration, tariffs, environment, Washington “beautification’’ projects or the war in Iran. I’ll leave that to the politicians. I snickered because I’m aContinue reading “Issuing a match-play challenge to the Commander In Cheat”

   When news arrived last winter that our former newspaper colleague Paul Hoynes was entering the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, the road trip immediately began to take shape.    Induction weekend can be daunting if you fret about crowds, hotel rooms, traffic and parking, but credentials for the ceremony and receptions would beContinue reading “Deserving writer gathers pals, memories in Cooperstown   “

  The art show at the Gateway Museum in Morristown features a retired art teacher, town historian, former teacher, North Country natives and transplants. But there is a common theme running through their paintings – the St. Lawrence River inspires them.   Eight artists are exhibiting their works at the Main Street museum, which isContinue reading “Gateway artists find their inspiration in St. Lawrence”

      I’ve always carried pride in my hometown, although I can still recall those jabs from Buffalo State College buddies about milking cows and living in Hooterville.    My self-deprecating side allows me to poke fun at Morristown too.    When asked what life was like growing up in a North Country village of 400 withoutContinue reading “‘Liberty Bell’ float was all it was cracked up to be”