Hi everyone and welcome to another exciting ad thought provoking issue of this
bi-weekly newsletter, The CORNERSTONE TRAVELER. Also available online at www.cronerstonetraveler.com,

mid-Hudson Valley news: The leaf peepers are crowding the roads in New Paltz. But not as bad as in previous years in the mid-Hudson Valley. Because we had a very dry growing season, thefoliage will not be as in previous years. Therefore the leaves changing color will be shorter in duration and the leaves will turn brown sooner than usual.
Unfortunately the leaf peepers from New York City will still crowd the roads and streets of New Paltz.
I will continue to watch the fall foliage from the rest area on 44/55 in the mountain past the hairpin turn as I believe this is the best place to see the fall foliage from the mountain into the Hudson Valley.
Unfortunately I was not able to go to the Renaissance fair because my legs were hurting so much. I guess I will have to wait until year. I can only hope my legs are feeling that much better.
There was the 26th British Car show in the field by the Woodstock Playhouse this past weekend. I enjoyed seeing the British cars of yesteryear, like the Triumphs (which was the first car I owned), the M.G.’s and Jaguars and others.
observations: I keep insisting on newsletter after newsletter, I will not write more on Donald Trump. But he makes so any dumb ass statements and is such a cry baby when things don’t go his way, I can’t seem to help myself.
Like after the first debate between Trump and Clinton. He knows he lost the debate badly. Like the cry baby that he is he complained that Lester Holt screwed up his debate performance and also there was a problem with his microphone
Lester Holt? I have no clue on how he damaged Trump’s debate.
When Clinton said that Trump had not paid Federal taxes for many years, he replied that was because he is smart. Unlike everyone else who pays federal taxes are f…ing idiots.
I have one question for Trump that no one will ask. How does Trump and Company file for bankruptcy six times but the Trump Company can accumulate over nineteen billion dollars in wealth? Trump insists that his filing for bankruptcy is a sign of being a good business man.
Trump scares me. Because he will not hesitate to use nuclear weapons on ISIS or any other terrorist organization. He doesn’t realize that ISIS not hesitate to use this nuclear option on America’s people. Trump doesn’t realize that it is relatively easy to get the components of a nuclear weapon. Also if he uses the nuclear option, he will alienate America from the rest of the world. NATO be damned!
As you have noticed, I cannot stop writing of the idiocy of Donald Trump because he is an idiot.
sports: The Jets lost to the Seahawks by a score of 17-27. They are now 1-3 for the season
The Giants lost to the Vikings by a score of 24 – 10. It wasn’t a good week for New York fans.
MLB: The Yankees will not be in post season play, But the Mets got the Wild Card and will play San Francisco on Wednesday for the Wild Card chase.

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 to about the mid 1930’s.
The short story that follows this history is a story I wrote called The ESSENCE. I hope you like it.
In keeping with what the political candidates say on their TV ads. I am Rik McGuire and I approved this newsletter.

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 all full view of sunset over the Shawngunk 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 had 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 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 homes 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 forget 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 Saturday nights! As did all the merchants and stores open till 9 p.m.”
By 1921 the Casino had changed hands and names, becoming the Blue Crane Inn. Ads of the era read.
Big night at the Blue Crane Inn
Dancing every Wednesday and Saturday evenings.
In the Chinese Hall-Good Jazzy Music.”

The cornerstone of night life 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 and the affordability of the automobile meant peoples outings were no longer confined to the trolleys 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 was nicknamed the P&G’s that welcomes everybody.

The ESSENCE

Jill Merrill was ushered into the hospital room that held her husband of almost fifteen years by the head nurse of the emergency room.
“Mrs. Merrill.” The nurse stated. “Prepare yourself because your husband has suffered very serious injuries trying to save a little girl from being hit by a car.” They came close to the bed that held her husband, Robbie. Jill sobbed when she saw all the tubes in her husband’s arms, throat and the incessant ping and beep of the monitoring machines.
She saw the doctor with a clip board taking notes and she stood beside him as she gingerly held Robbie’s hand. “How is my husband?” She sobbed.
Dr. Claiborne lowered the clip board, turned to Jill and said. “Mrs. Merrill, your husband is in critical condition. His legs were crushed by the auto and several ribs were bruised, cracked or broken. His shoulder will require surgery and I haven’t even begun to examine the damage to his brain . I have reviewed the X-rays and cat scans and I know we will have to operate to relieve the blood build up in his brain.” He paused, trying to gauge the reaction of Jill and her emotional state. He decided to tell her the bare facts. “Mrs. Merrill, your husband is in a coma and I don’t know how long this coma will last. He could come out of it tomorrow, next week, next month or next year. It is impossible to predict the affects of a coma to the brain.
Jill started to cry. “What are you trying to tell me?” She asked.
Dr. Claiborne patted her on the shoulder. “Be prepared to the worst.” He said.
“The worst? What do you mean?” She asked, still holding her husband’s hand.
“He could die. We will do our best to avoid this, but he could die.” Dr. Claiborne said as he raised his clip board to write more notes.
All the while as Dr. Claiborne and Jill talked, the essence of Robbie rose from his body. He felt himself being pulled by something and he fought it with all his might. But his essence was being drawn to somewhere or something.
“I hate this room.” He thought to himself as he stared down at his seemingly lifeless body. As his essence floated he thought of the little girl he tried to save from that cursed car. ”I hope she is alright.” He thought as his essence floated over his comatose body. He wanted to reach down and hold Jill, his love, but he knew deep down he couldn’t and he let himself float over his body and his love for life, Jill.
He then saw Dr. Claiborne leave the room while his wife stood by his side. He decided he had to leave with Dr. Claiborne because he felt this pull on his essence and he thought he must allow himself to be pulled, then let himself ease through the door.
The next he knew he was floating along the ceiling of the hospital corridor. With care he avoided the emergency room signs and the water sprinkler heads. He was being pulled by someone or something and he knew he wanted to avoid this pull.
He was outside in the hall leading to the room that held his body.
“Damn.” He thought. “I have to get back to my mortal body, if I am to live again with my wife, Jill and our children.”
As hard as he tried to get back into the room that held his body, he found he couldn’t if the door to his room was closed. He couldn’t just pass through solid walls.
He knew that he had to get back to his body because something was pulling at him and he
knew if it won, he would die. At least his mortal, physical body would die. He had to resist this. If only for Jill and the children.
“Are you ready to pass?” A voice whispered in his mind.
“Pass” He asked the unseen voice. “Pass to where?”
“The other side.” The voice answered,
“The other side of what?” Robbie asked the unseen voice.
“The other side of life.” The voice said.
Robbie knew intuitively what the voice meant. Death! “No. I am not ready to leave my wife and children.” He insisted.
“You are so certain?” The voice asked as an angelic being appeared before Robbie.
“Yes.” Robbie said defiantly.
“We shall wait and see what develops,”
“Develops?” Robbie asked. “What do you mean develops?”
“You might see the need to cross over when you appreciate the injuries to your mortal body including your brain.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Robbie replied.
“Your body had been badly injured when you tried to save that child.”
“Is she all right?” Robbie asked.
“She only has a few scrapes and bruises.” The unseen voice said.
“Good. At least I didn’t risk my life for nothing.”
Robbie was confused. He didn’t know the being with whom he was communicating. The voice of the angelic being, if you could call it that seemed to know a lot. Robbie was frightened because the voice of this being wanted to lead him away from his body and Jill.
“What are you?” He asked.
“I am the guiding angel for those who are ready to cross over. I am here to guide your mental essence, your soul.”
“Cross over? You mean those who are ready to let their physical body die? Correct?”
“Yes. And you should seriously consider taking this giant leap. Your physical body will die, but your soul/mind will last for eternity on the other side of that light at the end of the hall if you are willing to take this leap.” The angelic voice said.
“No.” Robbie thought vehemently. “I am not ready to die. I have too much planned for the rest of my life. Like watching my children grow up with guidance from both me and my wife.” After he said this, the angelic being seemed to just disappear from his sight.
He could almost hear the voice sigh. “You will be distressed by what you experience when you merge back with your physical body. Your body has some very serious injuries that will take years to heal. You will be in constant pain for a long time. A long time.”
“I am willing to accept the pain if I can spare the pain my wife and children will feel with my death.”
“It is not only the physical pain you will experience when you emerge from the coma that concerns me. It is the mental pain that you will experience when you come out of the coma, your brain is in at this moment.”
“Mental pain?” Robbie asked.
“Yes. Mental pain. You will find that you cannot do the work you did for the past fifteen years as an electrical engineer. Your company will be forced to put you on disability, which I, your guide, believes you will hate and this will cause you great despair and anger at everyone around you. Plus your physical injuries will not allow you to do all that you did before. It is believed you will be confined to a wheel chair for the rest of your life. This confinement will cause you even greater despair and anger. So much so that you will wish that you had died.
“No.” Robbie insisted. “I want to go back to my wife and children. It will be a challenge, but it is a challenge I am willing to meet.”
“I understand, but first I want you to look to the light and think carefully of your decision. I will let you decide. But you must remember and realize that life beyond the light is free of physical and mental pain, which you will most certainly suffer if you decide to remain on this side and not cross over.”
“I understand.” Robbie said. “But how long will I have to think about this decision until I am allowed to merge back with my body?”
“That is entirely up to you.” The voice said. “You already know the limitations of your mental essence. You know that you cannot pass through walls or other physical barriers and get back to your mortal body. You have to wait until a nurse, doctor or visitor opens the door to your hospital room before you can enter and merge with your mortal body.”
“I’ll wait. I must.” Robbie insisted. “I have to get back to my family.” He realized that the angel had left him to consider the light.
Robbie allowed himself to float toward the brilliant white light at the end of the hospital corridor. He let himself get no closer than five feet of the light because he learned that the pull of the light became more and more intense the closer he got until he felt the pull to be too intense nearer than five feet.
He stared into the tunnel of light and thought. He thought hard about how his body was wracked and how he would react to the constant pain and thought briefly that maybe he should allow himself to pass through the tunnel of light. But the images of Jill and his children held him back. He reviewed in his mind his last day at C.H. Energy and how he was stumped by the occasional electrical spike that wrecked havoc on businesses and homes with sensitive electronic equipment like P.C.’s, the new HDTV’s and the like. He thought that it was most likely the transfer station on Old Post Road. It was the businesses and homes that fed off this transfer station that were almost always affected by the occasional electrical spike. “Why hadn’t I thought about before?” He asked himself.
“Because your mind was intent on rewarding your daughter with a dinner at Jacob Marley’s for her being on the honor roll.” The voice said.
“You were monitoring me while I was at work before I got hit by that damn car or was it a truck?” Robbie asked the voice.
“Yes.” The voice said. “And it was a car, a Buick to be more specific.”
“Why were you monitoring me?” He asked the voice.
“Because I saw you getting hit by that Buick and decided that I needed to prepare you for your arrival here to maybe cross over if that is your desire.”
“You knew I was going to get hit by that damn car and you did nothing to warn me?”
“I couldn’t. I cannot interfere with the human/mortal environment. I must allow
mortals to make their own decision or you won’t learn.” The voice instructed.
“I guess I understand.” Robbie said.
“Good. I will allow you to think about your future either here or on the other side.” The voice said.
Robbie felt intuitively that the voice had gone and he thought about the accident. He remembered seeing a father and a small child crossing the street in front of a small store that they had just emerged with the father carrying an armload of boxes with the little girl holding on to his coat. When they were in the middle of the street, the little girl stopped to stare at the Buick slipping and sliding down the snow covered street, unable to stop. Then he saw himself racing from the sidewalk to the little girl hoping to push her out of the path of that damn Buick. He saw all of this as if he was looking from about fifteen or twenty feet above the street. He saw that he had pushed the little girl away from the oncoming car. Then he saw his body being struck and flying maybe twenty feet through the air, landing awkwardly in the middle of the street. He saw all the people rushing to his side and the police and ambulance arriving. “Man.” He thought to himself. “That felt like a Mack truck.” As he relived the impact and the pain. “I’m glad the little girl is all right. I hope I get to meet her when everything is said and done.” It was with this last thought that he realized he wasn’t ready to cross over just yet. Or any time in the near future. But he floated in front of the tunnel of light, looking for something, anything that might reverse his decision. All he saw in that tunnel of light were images of people urging him to enter. As tempting as it was, he resisted because he saw images of his children and Jill crying at his funeral if he did enter that tunnel of light. The pull started to become more intense and he forced himself to float away.
He floated to the room that held his body and waited for a nurse, doctor, anyone to enter and allow him to merge with his wracked body. “It will be worth it.” He thought to himself. “To be back with Jill and our children.”
“You are certain of this?” The voice asked.
“Yes.” He replied back.
“Okay. It is your decision.” The voice said back.
“You got that straight.” Robbie said with defiance.

Three months later

Robbie emerged from the coma, much to the relief of Jill and their children. Robbie was in much pain, but deep down he felt enormous relief. He was uncertain where this relief came from. He woke from dreams that had his essence floating along the ceiling of a hospital corridor trying to get into a room that held his comatose body. It was here that he was lost. He had no clue why the dream memory was so intense and important.
Though he had no memory of the voice, the angel, he did wonder if it was worth coming back because of the pain that was constant. The voice was wrong when it said that Robbie would be confined to a wheel chair for the rest of his life. Robbie insisted that he didn’t need the damn chair and decided one morning, while still in the hospital that he could walk. And walk he did. though a few months after being released from the hospital he found he needed a cane so he wouldn’t stumble constantly.
Because his disability limited what he could do both professionally and physically around the house he did what he liked most and that was read. The pile of books in the bedroom seemed to magically grow each day. And with the reading of books, newspapers, magazines and anything else he could get his hands on, he felt that he needed to write his own words. Whether it is letters to the editor, stories, poems he had to write.
And write he did almost constantly when he wasn’t reading. From morning to night, he read, then wrote, then read and wrote again.
The angel who tried to guide Robbie to cross over to the other side, smiled when Robbie showed thoughtfulness with his writing his letters to the editor that were cognizant and thoughtful of the world problems of the day. Even his stories made people think.
The angel smiled more broadly when the angel thought it was better that Robbie decided not to cross over to the other side of life.

12/20/04
10:01 p. m.
@P&G’s