A BIG hello 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.
Unfortunately because of internet problems with Verizon the last issue of this newsletter was a week late of being published online. I am seriously considering dropping Verizon as my internet host because I had to call Verizon technicians six time and two technicians came to my home to fix the problems of my internet connection with Verizon.

mid-Hudson-Valley news: I went to the Wings of Freedom tour at the Dutchess County airport, Sunday, August 23rd . I was able to tour the WWII bomber B-24G, the Liberator. I noticed that a person couldn’t be overweight t be on the flight crew of this bomber. My only disappointment was that the cockpit was closed and I only got a sight of the four engine thrusters. I would have liked to sit in the pilot’s seat to get a sense of what the pilots saw at they flew the bombers. It was still interesting to be up and close to the insides of this bomber.
There was the bomber B-17J, the flying Fortress. But unfortunately the line was too long to get into the bomber and it was hot and sweaty outside.
I saw the P-51C, Mustang fighter, but could only see the outside. I would have liked there to be scaffold near the cockpit so people could see the inside of the cockpit. I believe the P-51C ruled the skies in both Asia and Europe during WWII.
There was a military air show at Stewart International Airport this past Saturday and Sunday. I would’ve liked to go inside the C-130, but the line for that ship was at least forty-five minutes long.
I did see the Marine Harrier jet that can land like a helicopter. The Harrier makes a lot of noise when it takes off and lands.
I wanted to go to the Dutchess county Fair in Rhinebeck, but unfortunately my spine, legs and feet were giving me problems and I couldn’t risk the walking all afternoon.

observatioms: I have been noticing that Donald J. Trump keeps insisting that he is so much smarter than everyone else. I have to wonder about the intelligence of anyone who keeps insisting he is so much smarter than everyone else.
Guess what? I have known many intelligent people and these people never had to brag about their intelligence.
Trump is like Rush Limbaugh who insists he has talent on loan from God and he keeps half his brain behind his back so he can be fair to the people who call into his radio broadcast of innuendo and verbal vomit.
It will be a sad day for the United States if Trump is elected President because not only would he alienate the enemies of the United States, but also our allies with his attitude towards others.

sports: The Yankees are now struggling in the AL East and are 1 ½ games back behind Toronto with a record of 73-58.
The Mets are going great guns in the NL East with a record of 73-59 and are 6 games up.
The Jets beat the Giants by a score of 28-18.

other: As with all previous issues of this newsletter, everything written here is either copyright protected or copyright pending.
The history o P&G’s follows this newsletter from when the building was first constructed in 1900 to about the mid 1930’s
The fourth and fifth parts of my short story follows this history, called Immortals, Vampires and Werewolves. 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 mountain 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.

James Franklin

He got to the house next to Peter’s and knocked on the door. It was answered by a tall black man who looked the same age as Peter.
“You are Conor Thomas.” The man said. “Trizackle said to expect you and to answer all your questions because you are to be our new Watcher.”
Conor nodded as he was let through the front door into a parlor very similar to
Trizackles with all three walls stacked with countless books on shelves. And he remembered the parlor of Peter Holmes was the same and he wondered if all the homes of the immortals had all these books. He figured they all most likely did, considering their age as immortals. They must have collected countless books in all their years of living.
The man led him to the kitchen where they both sat down at the table. And on the table was a carafe of something.
“Trizackle said you really like the strong and harsh Arabian iced coffee. When I saw you walk up the sidewalk to my home I made certain that there was the iced coffee you prefer on the table waiting for you.” The man explained as he poured an ice filled glass with the iced coffee. “What would you like to know?” He asked.
Conor took the glass of iced coffee, took a sip then asked. “First I think you should tell me your name.” He said as he poised the pen over the legal pad.
The man smiled. “I was born James Franklin on September 1st , 1911.”
` “Your first death? When was that and how did you supposedly die?”
James smiled. “My first death was on August 14th, 1930 in the town where I was born in Mississippi.”
“How did you die?” Conor asked.
“I was lynched by several southern crackers because they thought I stole some chickens from a white farmer. Actually I had a confrontation with one of those crackers the day before when he started pushing me out of his way and I refused to move so he pushed harder against my chest, and I punched him in the face and knocked him out. I guess he wasn’t too appreciative of that and convinced the other crackers that I had to be taught a lesson and they lynched me. I was grabbed, dragged outside of town and hung from a large Oak tree.”
“But you didn’t die?”
“No. That was my first death and I came to be the immortal before you. But I could do nothing to affect my escape because they had tied my hands behind my back. So there was no way I could free myself until Trizackle came by an hour after the crackers left, laughing and slapping themselves on the back for and I quote. “Teaching a Nigger his place in the white society.”
“You were lucky Trizackle happened to be in the area and find you hanging.”
James shook his head. “No. Not really because he could sense I was to be an immortal as he passed by me before my lynching. He saw those southern crackers grab me and he knew their intentions. So he was there after he made sure there was no one around and cut me down.”
“What happened next?” Conor asked as he scribbled notes into his legal pad.
“Trizackle knew he had to hide me and get me away because I couldn’t be found alive. He made it look like a pack of wild animals tore me from the rope and dragged my body away.
So he spirited me here to this enclave here in Maine and I have been here ever since.”
“So, you were one of the first in this immortal enclave?”
James shook his head. “No. There were at least ten others here. I was just the newest at the time.”
“Are they still here in this immortal village?”
James shook his head. “No. Most have gone to other villages or enclaves to help others of our kind fight and defeat the bad vamps.”
“So there are other enclaves like this one for immortals in America.”
James laughed. “Not only in America, but throughout the world. For the bad vamps blood is blood no matter the ethnicity of the people they will drain and kill.”
Conor and James talked for just less than two hours with James explaining the life of an immortal. He stressed he was never bored because immortals were constantly hunting and killing the bad vamps. Conor never stopped scribbling into his legal pad as James taught.
Conor looked at his watch and saw it was past four and knew he wanted to get back to Melody, besides his right hand was cramping from all the hasty scribbling he had done. His final question before he left was . “I saw that you, Peter and Trizackle have accumulated scores of books. Are you searching for something like the reason for your existence?”
James laughed loudly. “If you are immortal, you have to find a way to spend your time and reading is the best way to kill the time other than defeating the bad vamps.”
Conor was about to leave then asked. “Who should I talk to next so that I can get a better sense of the immortals here?”
”Talk to Bonnie, across the street. She is the oldest immortal here in our village. Both in terms of her first death and how long she has lived as an immortal. But not longer than Trizackle.”
Conor decided he would interview Bonnie the next morning because he was very hungry and needed food and Melody. He hoped she would be as responsive as she had been the previous night. When he got to their home, he found the kitchen table already set for dinner. In the center of the table was a plate of shucked oysters. Melody was at the stove with two pots of water being heated. In one she placed shucked corn cobs. For Conor the odor was enticing and he felt more hungry then when he first entered their home.
“Smells delicious.” He said as he stared at her. She was wearing, just barely a halter top and tight short shorts.
“But what you are wearing can take my mind off hunger.” He said.
She only giggled as she wiggled her butt. “The steamers and corn will be done in twelve minutes. Then I will cook the lobster and by then we should be done with the appetizers.”
Conor took a half shell of oyster, scraped the meat out, dipped it in some cocktail sauce and swallowed it whole.
After they finished the oysters, steamed clams and corn, they tackled the lobster. Which was delicious.
After they finished dinner, Conor automatically started to clean the table then wash the dishes.
“I can do that.” Melody protested
Conor shook his head. “You cooked dinner. It is only fair I clean up and wash the dishes.”
Melody could only smile. “You are definitely an amazing man.”
“How so?” He asked.
“Most men think that it is the woman’s duty to make dinner and clean up afterwards.”
Conor laughed. “Well, my Italian mother taught me to respect women and to help when I can.”
“You’re Italian?” She asked.
“Only half. My father was Irish, Cherokee. But my mother’s Italian ancestry affected me the most.”
“So you’re a native person.” She said.
“Only partially. Maybe an eighth.” Conor replied.
He explained more of his life growing up on Long Island and in the Catskills. He explained how the history and geology of the Catskills sparked his interest in Archeology and Anthropology.
They sat side by side on the couch of their living room when Conor decided he needed to take a shower mainly because it had been so hot that day, he knew he had worked up a sweat just sitting and walking in the heat.
Melody insisted that she join him in the shower which of course he could not refuse. By the time they finished washing each other and drying each other off it was near eleven.
They retreated to their bed and enjoyed each other as much as the night before or maybe even more.
Little did they know that Valkin, the bad vamp, was perched in a tree just outside of their bedroom window. And he saw everything. He really wanted to sink his teeth in one of them or with any luck both.
Little did Valkin know that Peter, James and Bonnie had spirited themselves below the tree, watching Valkin intently. When it appeared to them that Valkin was preparing to crash through the bedroom window, all three leapt to the limb where Valkin was perched and pulled him to the ground. They dragged him to the nearby woods with the intention of tearing him apart and burning his torn up body, but were stopped by the stern warning of Trizackle.
So they only beat Valkin unmercifully and let him limp and crawl his way back to the vampire coven.
All the while, Conor and Melody were enjoying each other, not knowing what had
happened outside their bedroom window and the nearby woods. They were too preoccupied to know or even care.

Bonnie

Conor, as usual, woke at six the next morning with the same smile on his face as the previous morning, remembering the love making with Melody the previous night. And as before, he was careful not to wake her as he went to the bathroom, left and dressed.
He walked down the stairs lightly, went to the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee. He took the legal pad placed it on the table and took his laptop and booted it up. He prepared his first cup of coffee while his laptop booted.
He carefully placed his cup of coffee away from the laptop and his legal pad of scribbled notes of his interviews with Peter and James. He sat on the kitchen table chair in front of his laptop to create a readable document on his word processor. He had been typing, keying for over an hour when Melody walked in wearing the same robe as the previous morning.
“You’re up early again.” She said as she yawned and stretched her arms over her head.
Conor only smiled. “I told you, I usually do all my writing early in the morning. That is the way I operate.”
Remembering the previous night, she said. “I really like the way you operate.”
He smiled. “I’m glad.”
“So. What are your plans for today?” Melody asked.
“There is an immortal, called Bonnie across the street from James. I thought I should interview her because James claims she is the oldest immortal in this village.”
“So. You will be back here for lunch like yesterday?” She asked.
He shook his head. “I really don’t know. Considering she is so old as an immortal, my interview might take longer.”

Conor continued keying his scrawl into his laptop as he and Melody talked. Soon he was ready to leave and see Bonnie.
He left with his legal pad and pens, kissing Melody at the doorway. She smacked his butt saying. “Remember what awaits you tonight.”
He could only wave and smile. “How can I forget?”
He got to the home where James said Bonnie lived and knocked on the door. The door opened immediately as if she saw him walk up and only waited for him to knock to announce his presence.
“Hi” He said. “My name is Conor Thomas and I have been chosen by Trizackle to be the new Watcher for Immortals. And I would like to interview you to learn of your past and history.”
She smiled. “They call me Bonnie, but I was born Bonita those many years ago.”
Conor saw before him a beautiful thirty something Hispanic woman with almost golden skin and jet black hair. “Yes.” She said. “Trizackle told all of us to expect you and to treat you well.”
“Thank you.” Conor responded and followed her to her kitchen where they both sat on stools at a counter. But before she sat, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a container of brownish-black liquid that Conor knew and hoped was the Arabian iced coffee. And she didn’t disappoint after she filled a tall glass and he took a sip.
“Tell me about yourself.” Conor said. “And more specifically, your first death.”
Bonnie smiled. “I was born Bonita Ruiz in 1455. My first death was in 1486 just outside of Madrid, Spain.
“How?”
Bonnie looked to the ceiling as if trying to recall an image or memory. “It was during the infamous Spanish Inquisition that started in 1483, headed by Thomas de Torquemada. Anyone who did not subscribe to the Catholic religion of the Spanish monarchy, were immediately branded as heretics. And these heretics included the newly formed Protestant religion, Muslims, Jews and those of pagan faith, witches. Which Torquemada himself believed me to be.”
“So you were executed during this Spanish Inquisition.” Conor said.
Bonnie shook her head. “Not only executed, but tortured for many days until I told the inquisitors of those of different faiths. And I naturally refused to name anyone. And I was burned at the stake. Trizackle was there and he took my burned and scorched body back to his cottage where I came back to life completely healed of my wounds and burns.”
“Why did they take you?” Conor asked. “Were you Protestant, Muslim or Jewish?”
She shook her head. “No. I was considered a witch because I practiced herbal medicine and was a mid-wife for pregnant women.”
“The church and Torquemada did not like that?” He asked.
Bonnie shook her head. “No. It was thought that only the church could heal disease, injuries and deliver new-borns.”
“And because you practiced herbal medicine, you were thought to be witch or worse.”
She only nodded. “Yes.”
“How did you learn herbal medicine?”
“Through my mother and her from her mother and?
‘ so on for countless generations.
“You were successful with your herbal medicine?”
“Very.”
Conor brought his pen up to his lips. “So you were able to heal the ones that the church couldn’t.”
Bonnie smiled. “If the church wouldn’t cure or heal a person, they resorted to their old standby: It is God’s will.. Then I came around and countered God’s will. That made the church leaders very angry”
“I can see how it would.” Conor replied.
“But it got worse.” She said. “There were many unexplained deaths in the village and the surrounding areas. It seems they were all drained completely of blood. There was what you call bad vamps feeding on the populace. And naturally, Torquemada and the other church inquisitors thought it was a pagan like me using herbalistic medicine. They thought I used human blood in my remedies and cures for common ailments, which was obviously not true. But there were many people drained of blood and dead, they turned to the herbalists like me because the idea of a being drinking blood, a vampire, was unheard of at the time.”
“So. You were tried, tortured and executed for the crimes of the bad vamps.” Conor said.
“Yes.”
“Did Torquemada and the church ever learn that it was vampires doing the killing?”
“No. And even if they did learn and know of these vampires, they could never accept
that God would allow such creatures, demons to exist.”
“What happened next, after Trizackle took you under his care?” Conor asked.
“We traveled around Europe for a few years then we went to Norway where we caught a ship to the so called new world. And we established a village here in Maine, to thwart the bad vamps who crossed the ocean to feed on the local inhabitants.”
“So you have been here in the new world since Columbus. Correct?”
Bonnie chuckled. “We actually got to the American continent before Columbus. Columbus never made it to the Northern Hemisphere. Trizackle and I were the first white Europeans the native peoples met, if you call me white.”
Conor smiled and shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter.”
“Anyway, the bad vamps started to feed on the native peoples. Trizackle and I did our damndest to stop this carnage. But we were only two against a whole coven of vampires. The vamps thought they would have a free reign of the mortals in the so called new world.”
“How did the two of you succeed in your efforts against this coven of vampires?” He asked.
Bonnie smiled mischievously. “You must understand that being an immortal relies not on ethnicity, religion or race. Anyone can be chosen to be an immortal. So there were many native peoples who were chosen to be immortal and help me and Trizackle.”
“Who makes the choice of who will become immortal? God?”
Bonnie laughed. “No one knows. It has been a debate for thousands of years and even before Trizackle turned. There is no hard evidence how vampires came to be. A freak of nature? A evolutionary misstep? No one knows. It has been debated for so long that like mortals with their different religious sects, we too have formed our own sects of how we came to be what we are.”
Conor had been scribbling furiously, trying to keep up with the lesson that was being explained. Finally, he laid down his pen, rubbed his aching hand and took a sip of the iced Arabian coffee.

Bonnie saw his discomfort as he gingerly lifted the glass with his right hand to his lips and she knew she had to slow down the history lesson. “Let’s go out back and enjoy the warmth of the day. I have an outdoor table with chairs where we can discuss further the history and the reason for immortal existence.”
She just topped off his iced coffee then led him out the back door to the patio. He noticed for the first time that she was wearing tight shorts and a halter top that covered a full figured woman.
After they sat down and she explained that she knew he was tired of scribbling her history and the history of the immortals. She said. “Is there anything not related to our history you need to know?”
Conor stammered because he wasn’t sure how he should ask the next obvious question. “So.” He just asked. “Do immortals get physically intimate?”
She only smiled. “Of course. We do not practice celibacy. It’s unnatural.”
“But. . .” He stammered. “Can you produce children from this intimacy?”
She only laughed. “Of course not. Think about it. If we could produce immortal
children, we would in a short time become the dominate animal in the world, And that cannot be allowed.”
“Why not?”
“Think about it. How long could this earth last if the dominate animal is immortal. The reason for our existence, the sole reason for our existence is to keep the balance. So more humans and other species can continue to survive. Was this a decision of God or the gods is completely unknown. But we exist to control the bad vamps and that is the sole reason for our existence. At least it has been for over two thousand years.”

They talked for another hour with Conor explaining how he came to be an archeologist- anthropologist. He explained how ancient and old civilizations fascinated him and how he had to learn how they existed.
Bonnie explained her life before and after her first death.
Conor had to ask. “Can an immortal ever be killed?”
Bonnie nodded. “Yes. But to do so, you have to separate our heads from our bodies. But that is almost impossible considering our supernatural strength and speed.”
“But. It has happened.”
“Yes. But not for over a hundred years. It will be most likely an immortal who has lived for thousands of years and is tired of his or her immortality.”
“Have you known of any immortals who have died?” He asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you know them personally?”
Bonnie looked down to hide her face. “Yes. One I knew intimately. But he had grown tired of his immortality. He was over two hundred years older than me and one day he had confronted a bad vamp, Constantin, brandishing a sword.”
“What happened?” He had to ask.
There were tears in her eyes when she spoke of his death. “He and the bad vamp, Constantin, had been battling for over two hours. Neither one getting the better of the other. When my love, Darius, let his guard down just briefly, but it was enough that his head was severed from his body and he died.”
“You saw this?”
Bonnie nodded. “I wanted to help Darius, but he commanded I stay away. To this day I curse my decision to follow his command.”
Conor could see the look of love in her eyes and asked. “You were lovers?”
She just nodded. “For over one hundred years.”
“That must have been rough.”
“You can’t imagine.”

They talked for another thirty minutes and Conor saw that the memory of Darius was weighing heavily on her because she brought up his name constantly, relating the life they shared. He decided he had been at Bonnies long enough and said. “I really should get back to my home.”
She only nodded. “Yes. Get back to your love, Melody.”
“How do you know?” Conor asked.
She only smiled. “Everyone in our community knows of your love.”