A big and hearty welcome to all my readers of this exciting and thought provoking issue of this bi-weekly newsletter, The CORNERSTONE TRAVELER. Also available online at www.cornerstonetraveler.com

Mid-Hudson Valley news: I know I have complained about the New York DMV previously, but now I believe I can show the driving public how unconcerned they are with their decisions, rules and actions to the driving public.
It seems when I registered my car in December of last year my insurance company, Progressive, did not electronically transmit that I had auto insurance. I did not know this. I thought that my New York insurance card was enough for the DMV. But as it turned out it isn’t. Progressive had to transmit electronically that I was insured by them. They didn’t and the DMV assumed I had no auto insurance.
I reasonably thought that the DMV knew I had auto insurance because I showed them my insurance card I thought the woman? behind the counter would enter into the computer that I had auto insurance. But she didn’t because the New York DMV will only recognize insurance coverage if the insurance company transmits insurance coverage to the DMV electronically.
Because the DMV thought I had a lapse in auto insurance, my license plate was transmitted to police car computers. I was pulled over and my car towed and impounded.
I immediately called the insurance company and explained my dilemma. They assured me that they retransmitted my insurance information to the New York DMV. But the DMV will not recognize this transmission for 72 hours. A carrier pigeon is probably faster.
So now I am liable for a towing charge plus storage fees. I am liable for fees that were not my fault in any way.
And the New York DMV wonders why New York drivers hate them so much. Do they even think on how their policies affect the average person? Probably not! They couldn’t care a whit!

Observations: There was a lot of clutter on conservative radio and television about gay marriage and how many bakers and caterers will not provide their services to gay marriages.
I have to wonder how these people like Limbaugh and O’Reilly would feel if a baker or a caterer would not provide their services to their weddings because of their multiple marriages because Jesus said divorce was wrong. And said if a person divorced and remarried it was equivalent to committing adultery? Considering adultery breaks the seventh commandant of the ten commandants. These people only have to read the gospels of the new testament to learn the words of the prophet, Jesus.

sports: It was a great night this past Sunday when the American women beat Japan in the FIFA World Cup final. They lost to Japan four years ago with penalty kicks. After some of the booming kicks by the American women, they could be kickers on pro football teams. Their kicks are that powerful and accurate.
MLB: though the Yankees had been struggling for a few weeks, they are now back in first place in the AL East. They are up by one game with a record of 44-38.
The Mets on the other hand are still struggling in the NL East with a record of 42-41 and are 4 ½ games back.

Other: As with all previous issues of this newsletter, everything printed here is either copyright protected or copyright pending
The history of P&G’s follows this newsletter from 1900 when the building was first constructed to about the mid 1930’s.
1following this history is a short story I wrote to commemorate July 4th, Independence Day. I always include this short story when this newsletter is released close to July 4th.
I hope you like it.

Thank-you – Rik McGuire

The History of P&G’s from the Beginning

Travel back more than a century to the spring of 1900 as builder John H. Hasbrouck and his men construct a 50′ by 28′ building on the site of the current P&G’s Restaurant. Look around and begin to imagine.
The first floor features a fountain with water softly falling into a cobblestone basin. The exotic effect is enhanced with darting goldfish and blooming water lilies. Palms set liberally throughout the room, provide an air of privacy for those seated at the groups of small tables. Patrons, dressed in their finest, sit chatting, sometimes courting and enjoying the establishments fine refreshments.
The upper story is a promenade, opened to a full view of sunset over the Shawangunk Mountains. Live music gently eases you from afternoon into evening. Welcome to the ambiance and hospitality of the Casino.
The Casino’s owner, Mr Steen, had correctly envisioned the areas many tourists, summer boarders and trolley passengers stopping to enjoy the unique features of his establishment. The terminal station for the trolley line from Highland is located just across Main Street. It is said that Steen patterned the Casino after the famous Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs.
On June 1, 1900 the Casino was officially opened. That evening “a large number of people enjoyed the ice cream, music and the lovely mountains views.” according to the New Paltz Independent newspaper. Music was provided by a band which included a piano and several other instruments. The Casino soon became famous for Saturday night dances held on the second floor of the open pavilion. It was decorated with flowers and vines suspended from the rafters. The crowds were so large that special late trolley cars were run to accommodate the guests and take the orchestra back to Poughkeepsie.

The electric power shut down at midnight. According to Independent writer Delia Shaw “…the time of closing and the departure of the last trolley (run by electricity) had to be reckoned with, but as was often the case, several folks ‘Missed the Last Trolley’… seems between intermissions the fellows would walk their girls down the street where numerous straw thatched summer houses were located on the banks of the Wallkill River and they were so preoccupied with making love by the light of the silvery moon that they forgot everything.” Shaw continued. “Saturday Nights In New Paltz Became A Legend! There was not a single hitching post available, nor an inch of space under any of the sheds of the five local hotels. The Casino drew people from surrounding towns and they came via hay loads and 4 seated carriages, while some men even walked and carried their dancing shoes. ‘Little Larry,’ the shoeshine fellow, did a landslide business on Sat. Nights! As did all the merchants and the stores open ‘til 9 p.m.”
By 1921 the Casino had changed hands and names, becoming the Blue Crane Inn. Ads of the era read.

The big Night at the Blue Crane Inn
Dancing Every Wednesday and Saturday Evening
In the Chinese Hall-Good Jazzy Music.

The cornerstone of nightlife in New Paltz continued to thrive.
In 1925, after 28 Years of service, the Highland to New Paltz trolley company folded. The demise of the trolley business and the affordability of the automobile meant peoples outings were no longer confined to the trolley’s narrow corridor. They could drive to any village hotel, restaurant, or scenic spot that caught their fancy. Indeed, New Paltz and the Blue Crane Inn lost their captive audience. The Inn, however, continued to accommodate people well into the 1930’s. Other establishments came and went until 1947 when it became Pat and Georges and ultimately was nicknamed the P&G’s that welcomes everybody.

INDEPENDENCE

It was a few minutes before midnight, July 4, 2006 and Martin was wiping down the bar for the last time for the night. It was a raucous night, especially when all the customers went outside on the deck to watch the fireworks.
The Buckhorn Tavern had been the watering hole for locals for over two hundred and thirty years. The outside was almost identical to the original building those many years ago. It had the same weather worn clapboard though the clapboard had been replaced countless times. The windows were with the same weather worn trim. Even the slate covered roof was the same as it was two hundred and thirty years ago. The current owner wanted to keep the building’s exterior the original flair and looks just as it was when it was first constructed.
Though the outside had the original look of the building, the inside had to be remodeled to accommodate the modern customers. With restrooms, a gas burner stove and refrigeration, it was completely comfortable for the present day clientele.
Jessie, who helped behind the bar, she was busy wiping down the tables. Mitch another bartender was sweeping the floor. They all hoped to be done by midnight so they could rest and sleep after a busy night
Martin locked the door as he, Mitch and Jessie left for the night, promising to see each other the next day.
As they walked to their respective homes, the building, The Buckhorn Tavern, came aware and remembered those nights two hundred and thirty years ago.

July 5, 1776

Cleland Vanderhood had opened his tavern by four that afternoon though he usually didn’t open up until past six at night because it was a farming community and most of the farmers couldn’t tear themselves from their farms until six or later. But today, Cleland knew that the tavern would be a celebration for a new countries INDEPENDENCE. A rider had ridden all night from Philadelphia to the Catskills to shout the 2nd Continental Congress had signed a Declaration of Independence. The thirteen colonies that had been under the intolerable British rule had decided to sever ties with the hated British with the declaration.
He knew almost everyone in the small village would be celebrating their INDEPENDENCE. Cleland also knew there would be a few who would not celebrate the declaration because they called themselves Loyalists and didn’t want the colonies to separate from the British.
By four, many farmers and merchants were straggling into his tavern shouting and hollering their INDEPENDENCE from British rule. And Cleland was ready for them. Before the first reached the bar, he had already started pouring the favored stout and ale into ceramic mugs. Within fifteen minutes, the tavern was packed with shouts and cheers from all comers.

While everyone was celebrating their supposed independence from British rule, the tavern became aware and followed the conversations of all in the building.
The tavern heard Patrick warn. “The British will not allow our independence without a
fight.”
“You think there will be a war?” Another reveler asked,
“Most definitely.” Patrick said. “Think about Scotland and Ireland. Two peoples who fought for their independence. Scotland almost got theirs, but Ireland didn’t and they still battle the British occupation of the Emerald isle.”
“But we will prevail and beat the British.” Another voice shouted.
“Only in your dreams.” Came another voice. Everyone turned to the man of the voice and they all knew he was Jacob Black, a fervent loyalist to the British crown. Jacob Black was an importer of British tea, tin and other necessary goods for the colonies. And everyone knew he over priced the goods he sold. They also knew he skimmed from the top on the taxes the colonies paid to the British on his products.
Not only did the colonists know this, so did the tavern. The tavern became aware of its existence through the deaths of those who died in the Hudson Valley, whether naturally or unnaturally.
Jacob Black, the Loyalist, stood up and shouted. “You can never war and beat the British. They are a formidable force with a superior army and navy. You could never defeat such a force.”
Everyone in the tavern shouted him down.

Then Henry spoke up. We can and will defeat the British because we have a soldier in our colonies called Rodgers who has befriended the Indians in this land and learned from them on how to wage a war. Most of you know that the British battled the French for control of this land and the French forced a stalemate with their use of the Indians. All we have to do is enlist the Indians to fight with us and that should not be a problem because the Indians favored the French over the British.”
“You must be kidding.” Jacob Black roared. “You think those savages will help you defeat a power like the British?”
Henry smiled. “We alone can defeat the British. We only have to fight like the savage or Indian and the British could never defeat us. They fight too European and have never encountered fighters like the Indians.”
“I will never support your rebellion!” Jacob Black shouted as he stormed out of the tavern.
Everyone laughed loudly at the retreating back of Jacob Black.
“We have to be careful of him.” Patrick warned. “He will try and gain British favor by spying on us. He knows the British commanders will reward him financially for spying on us. So we have to careful what we do and say in his presence.”
Henry agreed. “Yes. We must be careful of him, but we will have our own courts and if he is found spying for the British, he will be tried in our courts and hung if found guilty.”
“That would serve him right!” A voice shouted. “Everyone here hates him with his greed.”

The essence of the tavern heard all of this, but knew that Black could be instrumental in bringing about deaths of many in the tavern. The tavern had seen the outpouring of grief when a starving villager was caught stealing food from the army garrison and hung for his theft. And the British made certain the thief was hung at high noon in the village square for all to see.
The tavern knew of another man the British hung for importing goods to the colonies without payment of British taxes. In both cases, Jacob Black was the one who informed the British commanders of their transgressions.

July 5, 2006

Martin, the manager of the Buckhorn Tavern, came into the tavern by seven in the morning to do the daily bookkeeping of the previous day’s sales. He was still tired from the previous night, but he had to do the daily Bookkeeping. He decided he needed to make a pot of coffee to wake himself up. He went into the main room of the saloon and made a pot of coffee. As the coffee perked and dripped, he thought he heard hushed voices in the saloon. He turned around and saw no one.
Martin was stunned because he knew he heard voices though he couldn’t make out what the voices were saying much less see the people with the voices.
Martin was unsure what to think, hearing voices of unseen people. He could only pour a cup of coffee and retreat back into the office.
But before he left the main room of the saloon, the tavern whispered in his ear. “You are hearing the voices of people who were fervent supporters of the American revolution.”
“Who are you?” Martin had to ask.

“I am the essence of this tavern that was built those many years ago. And I will explain the radical liberal thought of those framers who wrote the Declaration of Independence and the American Constitution.”
“So this will be a history lesson?” Martin asked.
“Yes, but first I want you to read up on the history of this village. Learn of Cleland Vanderhood, who constructed me, the tavern, and of the other local villagers like Patrick, a potato farmer, Henry, a corn farmer and Jacob Black, a Loyalist who was hung from the Oak tree in front of this tavern.”
“I’ll go to the local library and look up all you told me of. When should we talk again?”
“Only when you are ready.” The tavern whispered.
Later that day, Martin went to the local library to find books on anything about the early years of the village. It wasn’t hard because the library had already dedicated one six shelf bookcase to the early years of the village. He checked out as many books as he could carry and asked the afternoon bartenders and wait staff not to bother him unless it was absolutely necessary.
He perused book after book taking notes of everything he learned. He learned that Cleland Vanderhood, the original owner of the Buckhorn Tavern, died in 1786 a few years after the colonies defeated the British.
Martin was still in the office reading when the night shift started. Both Jessie and Mitch knocked on his door to ask him, what he was doing all day in the office.
Martin only smiled, lifted his coffee mug and said. “Just reading and drinking coffee.”
“What are you reading?” Mitch asked.
“The early history of this village.” Martin smiled.
“Why?” Jessie asked.
Martin pointed to Mitch. “Close the door.”
With the door closed, Martin began the tale. “This morning as I did the bookkeeping, I walked into the saloon when I heard all these voices from unseen people. Naturally I was confused until I heard the building whisper to me. It said it wanted to teach me. But first I must learn the history of the tavern and village. That is what I have been doing all day in this office.”
“What did you learn?” Jessie asked.
“The original builder and owner of this tavern was Cleland Vanderhood. He died in 1786 a very happy man when America gained its independence from the English by defeating them. A potato farmer Patrick O’Malley died in one of the final battles with the British. Another farmer Henry Barnes was captured by the British for hiding needed arms for the colonies in his barn and was sent to a prisoner ship in New York harbor where he died.”
“Did you learn anything else?” Mitch asked.
“Yeah. The man who told the British of Henry’s stash of arms was caught by the villagers, tried, found guilty and hung by the neck in that old Oak tree in the front of this tavern.”
“Will you talk to the tavern again?” Jessie asked.”Because I would like to be there and hear the voice of the tavern.”
“Me too.” Mitch agreed.
“Okay. I started the bookkeeping at 7:00 a.m. And didn’t go back into the saloon until
7:15 or 7:30 and that was when I heard the voices and the tavern whisper to me.” Martin
explained.
“7:00 it is!” Both Jessie and Mitch piped.

August 7, 1783

The British learned and found the many muskets, pistols and other weapons in the barn of Henry Barnes. They bound him and took him to New York City then moved him to the prisoner ship in the New York harbor.
Henry was ill just from the smell of all the unwashed bodies, horrible sanitation and even the decomposing bodies of dead American prisoners. He would die three months later from a disease on the ship.
Meanwhile the villagers learned it was Jacob Black who told the British of the arms being hidden in Henry’s barn and caused Henry to be taken to that prisoner ship.
A hasty court was formed and Jacob Black was found guilty of treason against the colonies of the newly formed America. And he was sentenced to hang by the neck immediately from the Oak tree in front of the Buckhorn Tavern.

July 6, 2006

When Martin was at the front door of the tavern, he was met by Mitch and Jessie. They
all went inside together and waited for the tavern to speak.
They didn’t have long to wait because after they had perked a pot of coffee and each had a warm cup in their hands, they heard the tavern whisper.
“You have brought friends with you.” The tavern whispered.
“Yes.” Martin said. “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. The more who hear what I have to say the better.” Came the whisper.
“I don’t believe this.” Jessie almost shouted. “I can hear a whisper in my mind.”
Martin nodded. “Yes. You are hearing the tavern talk, whisper to us.”
“I can it hear it whisper too.” Mitch said. “And I am not a believer in the unbelievable. Yet now I believe.”
Martin motioned with his hand. “Shh. Listen to what the tavern wants to say.”
They all stood silent for less than a minute before the tavern began to whisper.
“You’re all here.” Whispered the tavern.
“But of course.” Martin said. “We want to hear what you have to teach.”
“It will be at least two hours.” The tavern explained.
“Right.” Martin said and turned to Mitch. “Mitch pull down the shades in the windows and make sure the front door is locked.”
“Right away.” Mitch said as he turned to the windows and the door. Then Mitch came back and stood with Martin and Jessie. They heard the tavern whisper, explain. “You will now see and hear echoes of the past within my walls.”
They all waited eagerly.

Echoes from the past – August 7, 1783

Martin, Mitch and Jessie found themselves in a room that was totally unfamiliar to them, but at the same time familiar and they couldn’t explain this.
The tavern whispered. “This is the Buckhorn Tavern, me, as it, I was in 1783. You are about to witness the trial of Mr. Jacob Black, who spied for the British for personal financial gain. Don’t worry about the people you will see and hear for they cannot see or hear you, for they are echoes of the past.”
They all gasped when they saw the thirty foot long, four inch thick slab of Maple that was obviously the bar of the tavern for there were at least ten stools in front of it and behind it they saw large kegs positioned upside down with taps at the lower ring of the kegs. And all around the larger room were at least ten small Maple top tables with stools around each. But against the back wall was a large Maple bench and behind the bench was a stern faced man with a wooden gavel.
When they looked closer they saw at least thirty or forty people seated around the small tables and by the maple bar. They all appeared to wait anxiously for something.
“What’s going on?” Jessie asked Mitch.
Mitch shook his head. “No clue.”
The tavern whispered. “Like I explained, these are the echoes from the past. And you are about to witness the trial of Jacob Black for informing on Henry of the arms he hid in his barn to aid the colonists in their fight against the British.”

After the tavern finished whispering they heard the man behind the bench rap his gavel down sharply three times and commanded. “Bring the prisoner in.”
And from what they knew was the Buckhorn Taverns front door, two burly, bearded men dragged a struggling, scrawny, black haired man who vehemently screamed of being treated so unfairly.
The trial of Jacob Black started with Black screaming his innocence because he was only acting on the true authority of the new world, the crown of England.
The trial of Jacob Black took less than an hour. Jacob Black was found guilty of treason against the newly formed nation of America. And his sentence was death by hanging.
Martin, Mitch and Jessie saw Jacob Black dragged outside to a three foot bench with a rope tied at the front legs, attached to a horse. A specially wrapped noose was draped around his neck and a few seconds alter the horse was slapped on its hind quarters and the horse galloped away, causing the bench to tumble and Jacob Black hung from his neck and his feet lashed back and forth as he died.
“Oh God. That was awful.” Jessie cried as the three of them looked out the front window of the tavern.
“That was justice.” Whispered the tavern.
“But was it fair and just?” Jessie had to ask. “That man was hung by his neck and died horribly.”
“Actually his death was less horrible than Henry Barnes who died on that prisoner ship in New York harbor. Henry died slowly and painfully. I know this because I could see him die in the lower bowels of that damned ship.” The tavern whispered.
“Is that what you wanted to teach us?’ Martin asked.
They could almost feel the tavern shake it’s head and hear it whisper again. “No. I Have seen how the American people have changed from the thoughts of those framers of the American Constitution. I know the framers stressed that wealth should not be the goal of the Patriots. They stressed that everyone has the right of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of happiness. Not! Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of greed.”
“Times have changed.” Mitch said.
“Yes they have.” The tavern whispered. “Think about it. How many of the wealthy can do such mundane jobs as carpentry, farming, masonry etc. And god forbid that they should ever think to clean a toilet. That’s the problem. Fewer and fewer people are learning the basic skills needed to keep this nation alive. I remember how Jacob Black turned from his friends, neighbors and community to satisfy his greed with financial gain by informing on those people for the British commanders. I witness the same happening in today’s America. Too many of these people will turn from their friends, neighbors and community for financial gain. Too many of these people have lost their sense of community with their greed. And this is unhealthy for America. You have all seen or read how personal financial gain, greed, has destroyed nations. Witness the Roman Empire, destroyed by greed. The French monarchy, destroyed by greed. Nazi Germany, destroyed by greed of ego. The Russian Soviet Union became too top heavy by greed. A few of the Soviet leaders lived in opulent dachas while the rest of the population lived in misery. And there are probably a few dozen other countries or communities that were destroyed by greed.
And there I will finish my history lesson and hope you have learned what you have seen from the echoes of the past of this country and the others I have taught you.”
“Will we hear you whisper to us again?” Martin asked.
“Only if I think it is necessary.” The tavern whispered.
“I hope you do. Because I want to hear and learn more from you again.” Jessie almost cried.
“The same goes for me.” Mitch echoed.
After the tavern finished whispering, Martin, Mitch and Jessie saw the echoes from the past fade. The echoes from the past became dimmer and dimmer. Then they were back in the recognizable saloon of the Buckhorn Tavern.
It was if by magic they all became more aware of the American Revolution and the toll it took on the colonists.
Their eyes were opened and they saw America under entirely new and heretofore a new light.

8:36 p.m.
9/17/11
@ P&G’s

This story is dedicated to everyone who works at P&G’s