Ct – 210
CORNERSTONE TRAVELER
May 28  ‘13
Hi everyone. Welcome to another exciting and thought provoking issue of this bi-weekly newsletter, The CORNERSTONE TRAVELER. Also available on the web at www.cornerstonetraveler.com.
mid-Hudson Valley
news: As I was walking to the municipal     parking lot in Woodstock I looked up to the peaks of Overlook Mountain and Mount Tremper. Both at about three thousand feet. I remembered when I read the book, “The Catskills During the Ice Age”, the author-geologist said that the ice sheet of the last ice age rose almost to the peaks of these two                 mountains. I tried to imagine what the peoples of that time saw as they witnessed the ice sheet creep inches a month to these peaks. I cannot even imagine what they saw and thought when       they sat freezing, watching the ice sheet.
They probably noticed that the wild life was diminishing as were the plant life. So life had to be hard and starvation almost rampant.
The Cole Brothers Circus is coming to both Kingston and Wappinger Falls shortly. I know last year I had criticism of the Cole Brothers Circus. I will try and go again if I know they have a pack of wolves. Wolves intrigue me because when I was in that coma and near death, a wolf showed my soul/ essence away from the land of the dead and back to the land of the living. I’m sorry I just can’t recommend the Cole Brothers Circus.
Monday is the national day for Memorial Day observations, but the village of New Paltz decided several years ago to observe Memorial Day on the actual day, May 30th . The Memorial Day Parade will start at the Manheim/Main Street intersection at 6:00p.m. The original name for Memorial Day was Decoration Day because that was the day that family members would decorate the graves of fallen soldiers. This Decoration Day started on 1868, just a few years after the end of the Civil War.
observations:
I have become totally disgusted with some people in our society trying to scam money for phoney ailments and causes. Almost everyone has heard of people trying to raise money to help them pay for phoney cancer ailments. One woman had contribution jars all over one town in New York, claiming she had cancer when in reality she didn’t and only needed the money to pay for her drug habit. There was another woman who tried to raise money for her son, she claimed had cancer. He didn’t!
Then recently there was a woman who claimed to be the aunt of one of the children killed at Sandyhook in Newtown CT. She claimed the money raised was to help pay for the burial expenses of this child.
I have nothing, but total disgust for people like this.
sports:
The Knicks lost to the Pacers in the second round of the NBA playoffs. The Nets lost early to Charlotte.
The Rangers lost to the Bruins in the second round of the Atlantic Division of the NHL play offs by 4-1.
The Yankees are still toughening it out for the top spot in the Atlantic Division of the American League. Even with all their injuries. Unfortunately they lost the top spot when they lost to the Mets in the subway series. The Yankees have a record of 30-20.
The Mets are languishing in fourth place in the Atlantic Division of the National League.
As above they beat the Yankees in the subway series. Their record is 19-29.
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 about the mid 1930’s to almost the present.
Considering I wrote about the ice age in the mid-Hudson Valley in the previous issue of this newsletter, I decided to include the short story “The SPIRIT of the ANCIENT KNIFE.” in this issue because it starts during the last Ice Age and continues to the present. I hope you like it.
Thank-you – Rik McGuire
                                                 History of P&G’s continued to the present
From 1925 – 1945 a number of diverse businesses occupied the building. These included Carols Clothing Store, Atkins Drug Store, Schaffert Real Estate Office, Marie Shop and Dicks Bar and Grill among others.
In 1947 Dicks Bar and Grill was purchased by two Lake Mohonk employees, Pat Cafferty and George Jayne. Legend has it that neither told their wives of their intention to purchase the business. They immediately changed the Grills name to Pat and Georges. Among it’s loyal customers it was simply P&G’s.
One of the best things to happen to P&G’s occurred in 1961. An ex Dodger player named Stormer Nickerson became a bartender. Stormy as he was affectionately known became something of a legend. His heart, quiet good humor and generous spirit made P&G’s the one place that welcomed all from the harsher outside world into a refuge for college students, business people, local characters and even for a while, in the 1960’s, bikers. According to one source. “They weren’t as rowdy a crew as you might expect because although he was quiet, Stormy commanded and got respect.” His professional baseball background made him a natural to pitch batting practice for the New Paltz College teams and he did so for a number of seasons. One college fraternity considered P&G’s their private domain. The scene of everything important, news, views, camaraderie and especially humor was always evident at P&G’s.
After the St. Helens volcano erupted and news reports discussed the possibility of ash fall out across the U.S., Stormy came to work to find the staff dressed in garbage bags and metal kitchen colanders on their heads. Since no ash was reported on anyone, Stormy reasoned the
attire had been affective by making everyone laugh their ash off.
In June 1991, after 30 years, Stormy retired from P&G’s. He died in June of 1994. From his casual humor that lingers, to his Chile recipe that is still served and the kind memories often repeated by his many friends, Stormy is still here.
In 1969 Edwin Beck bought P&G’s. His first weekend as owner was completely successful. The following weekend, however, the place was deserted. A disheartened Beck couldn’t understand what he had done to alienate everyone so quickly. He was relieved to learn it was simply a matter of poor timing. Everyone was away and wallowing in a farm in Bethel NY. A music festival or something.
Ed Beck never spent time worrying. He looked across Main Street and up Plattekill Avenue, seeing thousands of thirsty college students who, for the most part remained on campus. Taking a good supply of liquid refreshment, Beck went to the campus and gave the students (all legal in those days) a new place to call home. He transformed P&G’s from a neighborhood bar into a local institution.
The face of Beck’s personality had much to do with the continued success of P&G’s, the place was fun. One oft quoted story about Beck concerns a young P&G’s enthusiast who wanted to be just like Beck when he grew up. It is reported that Beck in all humility replied. “Well you can’t do both.”
The name Pat and Georges was officially changed to P&G’s in the 1980’s by Ed Beck and his son Mike. In 1985, Mike bought out his fathers interest. In 1994, he undertook extensive renovations, making the building exterior appear as it did in 1900, when it was the Casino.
The SPIRIT of the ANCIENT KNIFE
20,000 Bc (now modern day Portugal)
He woke suddenly to the sounds of yells, screams and cries that the snow leopard had attacked their goats, sheep and cows yet again. He threw off the many animal hides he slept under to keep warm, pulled on his leggings and slipped the bear hide tunic over his head. He didn’t bother to put on his foot wear because he knew he was needed immediately.   Traco ran out of his hide hut barefoot. The freezing cold of the snow on his bare feet didn’t register in his mind. He was only worried with the loss of the clans livestock as it was important for their survival.
Traco ran to the corral where the clan kept their livestock and saw the ravaged animals in the snow. Blood was everywhere in the corral and few of their animals still stood. He was the village, clan tracker and it was his duty to guide the hunters to game so he naturally was able to find the tracks of the snow leopard.
As he followed the tracks, he came upon a ravaged reindeer buck. He bent down to inspect the reindeer and he became attracted to the antlers of the dead reindeer. He broke off one set and carried it with him as he tracked the snow leopard to the sheet of ice that retreated a few feet each year. The sheet of ice towered about twenty feet over the ground. He saw the path that the snow leopard used to climb to the top of the ice sheet.
He ran to that path, when he felt a tremor in the reindeer antler he carried. He looked to the top of the ice sheet and saw the snow leopard glaring down at hm. Traco knew he had to forget about tracking the leopard and take a different route to the village and he turned to the forest running between trees, hoping the snow leopard wouldn’t follow.
When he finally got back to the village gasping, he was met by the village chief.
“What did you find?” Brucenik asked Traco.
Traco bent over, with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Finally he
straightened up. “I found the path that the snow leopard uses to get down from the sheet of ice
and attack us.”
“What are we to do?” Brucenik asked.
Traco shook his head. “I don’t know. But I do know we must post hunters around the village to protect our people and our animals. This must be done every night.”
The village chief agreed and Traco retreated to his hut with the antler grasped tightly in his hands. He knew the antler had a secret and spiritual talisman that he could use to protect both himself and the people of his clan. He spent most of the next three days in his hut shaping the piece of antler into a knife. The finished knife would be longer than the regular knives used by his people and there would be a slight curve to the blade. Finally on the third day he honed the blade of bone to be sharp enough not only to be used in a fight with an animal, but also to skin animals killed in the tribes pursuit of food.
When he left his hut on the third day with the knife strapped to his waist, he was met by Brucenik.
“Traco. It has been three days and I wonder, have you thought on how we should protect ourselves from the snow leopard?”
Trraco nodded as he pulled the knife from his waist. “While I made this fine knife of reindeer antler, I had thought that I might track the leopard up on the ice pack.”
“You will need many of our hunters to go with you.” Brucenik advised.
Traco shook his head. “No. It is better that I go alone. I can move more quickly if I am alone and I won’t attract the attention of the snow leopard easily. This would not be so, if I
had one or two hands of hunters with me.”
“That might be so, but can you do better with the snow leopard by yourself? It is a big
beast that weighs at least ten men and you think you can battle it alone?”
Traco held up his newly crafted knife. “I made this knife from the antler of a reindeer buck I found that was ravaged by the snow leopard. After the last attack I had the antler in my hands and I felt it alert me to the presence of the leopard. I took a different path to our village and if it hadn’t been for the warning of the antler, I would have been attacked and killed by the beast. I believe the spirit of the reindeer wants to protect me from the beast that killed it.”
“When do you plan to hunt the leopard?” The village chief asked.
“Two days from now. By then I will have one hand of spears and enough food to last me one moon.” Traco answered.
“If you are not back in one moon, should I send hunters searching for you?” Brucenik asked.
“No. If I am not back in one moon, then I am most likely dead and I would advise you to move our people away from this ice sheet and the snow leopard. It should be towards this arm of the setting sun.” He said pointing with his left arm.  “I have heard that the game is plentiful there and you will not be challenged by others.”
Two mornings later, Traco was prepared to climb the ice sheet. All the food, gear and other necessities he thought he would need for one moon weighed less than a half man. It was light enough that he could move quickly if he had to, but had enough supplies to last him for an
extended period of time. To last one moon he was not certain, but he knew that within one moon, he would have either killed the leopard or he would have been killed. It was enough he thought.
The whole village was out to see him off. They all wished him success because they knew if he didn’t succeed, they would be forced to move their village, which was difficult to
even think about because they had been there for many generations.
Traco waved to his villagers as he trudged up the slope to the top of the ice shelf. When he got to the top, he looked down and waved one last time as his fellow villagers shouted and waved to him.
He found the tracks of the snow leopard quickly because there had been no snow or rain since the last attack. He ran as quickly as he could with the heavy pack. He followed the tracks to a crevasse and as he prepared to climb down then back up he felt the tremor from the knife. He pulled the knife from his waist , looked around for the snow leopard, and saw it crouched three grown men away. As he held the knife in his hand, he reached behind to his pack to grab a spear and just then the beast leaped to Traco. The knife went into the chest of the leopard killing it almost instantly. The force of the leopard on Traco forced the two of them to the bottom of the crevasse. At the bottom of the crevasse, the snow and ice gave way beneath the combined weight of Traco and the beast and they fell the twenty feet to the bottom of the ice sheet, where a fast moving, frigid stream flowed. Traco died almost instantly from drowning. The reindeer knife slipped from his hand and the leopard and wedged itself between two rocks.
Traco had not returned in one moon as he said he should have and Brucenik ordered his
people to move to the setting sun. Both women and men wailed over Traco’s death, but they moved.
1100 ad (Almost modern day Portugal)
Eric was the newest and youngest of the Viking crew and he was ordered to stand by their boat as the crew warriors were ordered by their chief to march further inland to plunder and pillage, leaving Eric alone by the boat.   He occupied himself each day by hunting for food to feed himself and so they would have enough for when he and the crew next sailed and rowed. As he hunted for wild animals, he came upon a knife wedged between two rocks. He picked it up and admired the white sheen of the hilt and blade. He thumbed the blade and cut his thumb. He couldn’t be certain of what material the knife was made, but he admired it’s beauty. It wasn’t made of the heavy steel he and his fellow warriors used, but it was light and fit into his leather boot.
As he walked deeper into the forest, further than he had walked before, he felt a tingling sensation from inside his boot where the new knife rested. He shook his foot and walked further into the forest. The tingling on his ankle by the knife became almost unbearable. So he reached down and pulled the knife from his boot. He felt the same tingling in his hand and he almost dropped the knife when he saw the yellow eyes of a mountain leopard. He stepped back carefully, never taking his eyes from the leopard with the knife held in front of him. The mountain leopard leaped and Eric instinctively held the knife up to defend himself. As the mountain leopard came down upon him, Eric felt the knife plunge into the chest of the beast. The weight of the leopard forced him to his back, but the leopard didn’t move to claw or bite him and Eric knew he had lucked out with his newly found knife because the knife went directly into the beasts heart, killing it almost instantly.
Eric dragged the carcass to the boat hoping that the warriors would see his gallant effort and reward him by allowing him to go on their raiding parties. He decided he would not tell his fellow warriors of his knife. He knew that it had magically protected him. So he slipped it back into his boot.
When his fellow Viking warriors returned, they had little to show for their efforts. They
had only suffered two dead with their raids, but there was little to plunder. The Viking leader,
Lief Red Hair, didn’t want to return to Norway so empty handed and decided to follow an earlier Viking leader, Lief Erickson, to the setting sun. He heard of all the wealth to be had in those far off lands of the setting sun  The Viking crew collected enough food and water to last them three months at sea.
They would hop scotch from the land they were on to the big and smalls island north, then to the island with belching smoke and to the island that looked so green near the sea and finally to the land of the setting sun. With each stop they would collect more supplies and probably more plunder.
The warriors were impressed with Eric’s kill of the mountain leopard and he let the story grow on how he risked life and limb to kill it and protect their boat. Eric’s status grew proportionally with each telling of the tale of the kill. He was allowed to participate in the plunder of the islands that later would become England, Ireland, Iceland and Greenland. The magic of the knife weakened with each plunder until he thought the magic had evaporated totally.
They left the land that was green by the sea and sailed, rowed to the setting sun.
They found the land, boasted by Lief Erickson. But Lief Red Hair wasn’t impressed enough until they came to the river that in another six hundred years would be known as the Merrimack River. Lief Red Hair decided that the river might provide the plunder he was so seeking. The oarsmen were ordered to make the turn into the river by the small island that offered nothing except wild plums. Just as they were making the turn, Eric felt the tingling he hadn’t felt in many moons. He looked to the sea and saw a giant wave about to crush their boat. He shouted a warning, but it was to late. The giant wave washed over their boat, drowning all on board. The ancient knife of Traco slipped out of Eric’s boot and settled on the sea floor. The knife would be covered and uncovered with sea silt countless times in the next eight hundred years.
1991 ( Just off Plum Island – Newburyport Massachusetts)
Billy Tyler, captain of the Noreaster, a fishing boat, ordered that the sled be lifted to the deck so that any cod, flounder, haddock could be unloaded to the fish holds below decks.
After the sled was unloaded, he ordered the sled dropped one more time and he steered the boat further out to sea. He handed the steering to his first mate and went below to check the fish holds. He wanted to make sure there was enough ice on the fish.
As he inspected the holds, he saw a white object that he couldn’t identify between the still flopping fish. He was curious about this object and reached inside the hold to pull it out.
After he pulled it out, he examined it carefully. It looked to be a knife of ancient design, made of something he couldn’t identify. Billy was intrigued by it, so he slipped it into his waist band, then went top side to oversee his crew.
As he surveyed his crew and the fishing boat, he felt a slight tremor by his waist where the knife was tucked. He immediately looked to the east and far out he could see a ripple in the water that could be a rogue wave. He ordered the sleds to be pulled up quickly. There was not much to empty into the holds. As this was being done he watched the ripple in the ocean grow larger with each passing second. He raced to the wheel house, grabbed the wheel from the first mate and made a sharp left turn, just north of Plum Island and applied full power to the twin diesel engines.
The rogue wave broke just a hundred yards from the Plum Island shore. The only damage it caused was minor flooding of the homes that bordered the ocean side shore.
Billy Tyler breathed a sigh of relief when he looked back and saw the wave break. He guided the Noreaster to the docks of a fish wholesaler. The fish were unloaded and weighed by
the dock master,
He was disappointed when the dock master handed him the weight total and check for him and his crew. He knew his take was low because he had planned to do two maybe three more sled pulls before returning to port. But the rogue wave prevented him from doing that. It was the last fishing trip of the season because it was mid October and the weather and the seas would be too treacherous for another trip. All he could do was to go to his cabin on the Noreaster and divvy the proceeds of the fish haul to his crew.
All of his crew were disappointed with the size of their checks, but they knew that if Billy hadn’t pulled the sleds up as he did, they would all be dead by the rogue wave. After all said goodbye to each other, promising to be back in April of the next year. They sighed that they had survived a near death from that rogue wave.
Billy spent the next two weeks winterizing his fishing boat. Then he went to his cabin in the Whites of New Hampshire. And as he usually did before deer hunting season each year, he surveyed the trails of the deer near his cabin. He looked for recent tracks and spoor of the deer. He did this before every hunting season and everyone was amazed that he could bag his quota of deer each and every season. They didn’t understand that he knew the deer and where they grazed and where they went to escape the hunters. The other hunters couldn’t be bothered to do this. They only hoped they would get lucky each hunting season.
As he surveyed the trails in the forest near his cabin, Billy looked down and to both the left and right of the trail used by the deer. As he walked he kept his right hand on his waist over the knife he found in the fish hold of his ship. He walked deeper and deeper into the forest,
never his hand off his hip. He came to spot on the trail where some deer were caught unaware by something. He knew they had been killed and dragged away from the obvious trails of blood and crushed underbrush. It was then he felt the same tremor from the knife he had felt before the rogue wave at sea. He looked around and saw the yellow eyes of what he knew to be a mountain lion. There was a another trail on the hill to his right that he thought he should climb to avoid a deadly encounter with the mountain lion. He climbed the hill quickly but with stealth until he found the trail. He crouched behind a large boulder, waiting. He waited for the mountain lion to climb the hill after him. He cautiously peered over the boulder and saw the mountain lion creep further down the trail he had just left.
Billy breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a voice behind him.
“You managed to lose that cat.” The voice said.
He looked behind him and saw his friend, Michael Long Hair. “How long have you been following me?” He asked his long time friend of the Micmac tribe.
“You know us heathen Indians. We can follow almost anything without it knowing. I saw you leave your cabin and I saw the lion track you. I then saw that you found the lion and watched as you crept up the hill and saw that the lion had lost interest in you for some inexplicable reason. What more do you want to know?”
Billy pulled the knife from his waist and showed it to Michael Long Hair. “I sensed danger when I felt a tremor from this knife and I saw the yellow eyes of the mountain lion. I only did what I thought I could and climbed the hill to another trail. The mountain lion seemed to have lost interest in me and left on the lower trail.
“May I see the knife?” Michael asked.
Billy handed it to him and Michael examined it carefully. “I believe that this knife of
yours is an ancient talisman. I can’t be sure, but I think my grandfather will be able to see the spiritual significance of this knife. Come with me to my grandfather and learn more.” Michael
said.
Billy agreed because he was more than curious about the tremor he felt when he was faced with danger.
They came to the grandfathers trailer. Michael Long Hair explained the knife to his grandfather.
Billy had never met Michael’s grandfather. He expected him to be old, but the man looked to be somewhere between ninety and one hundred years old. Before he examined the knife, he shook Billy’s hand and the handshake was more firm than one would expect from such a frail looking old man.
The old man took the knife from his grandson, sat down on the floor of his trailer and closed his eyes as he held the knife.
Finally after five or ten minutes, the old man opened his eyes, smiled and spoke. “This knife was crafted thousands of years ago from the antler of a reindeer buck.” He said to his grandson and Billy.
“You are so certain?” Billy asked.
“Yes I am. The spirit of that reindeer buck is still in the bone of this knife. This knife was made from the bone of the antler of a reindeer buck. As I held this knife I saw the reindeer buck being ravaged and killed by a giant leopard. And I believe it was crafted by a man during the last ice age. About twenty five thousand years ago. His spirit is in knife as well as a young Viking warrior from about eight hundred years ago.”
Billy was amazed. “You saw all that by just holding the knife for five or ten minutes?”
He was incredulous.
The old man nodded. “The spirit of the reindeer and both men are in this knife and I
imagine yours as well, if you allow it.”
After Billy took the knife back and left the old mans trailer, he kept it by his side in a specially made knife sheath on his waist at all times.
He learned of its protective powers the following spring when he thought about buying a new fishing boat that looked to be in excellent shape, but the knife gave him a tremor. And he learned that the fishing captain that had bought the boat had major problems from the beginning and it ultimately sank just outside of Plum Island.
He insisted the knife would never leave his side or the sides of his children, still to be born.
The spirits of the reindeer buck, Traco and Eric were happy that their spirits would always be there in the spiritual and magical knife.