CT-213                    CORNERSTONE TRAVELER                                                  JULY 9 ‘13

 

Hi all and welcome to another exciting and thought provoking issue of this bi-weekly newsletter, The CORNERSTONE TRAVELER.  Also available on the web at cornerstonetraveler.com.

mid-Hudson Valleynews:  I wrote last summer in this newsletter of the efforts to rebuild the trestle over Rosendale onto a walkway much like the Walkway Over the Hudson that has attracted over a million visitors.  This past Saturday the trestle was opened to the public as part of the Rail Trail.  This trail connects Kingston to Rosendale to New Paltz and on to Gardiner and beyond.

The railroad line and trestle was bought by Conrail in the Early 1970’s, but within a few years the line and trestle were essentially abandoned by Conrail and the trestle has been standing alone ever since.

The trestle was recently completed for the human hiker.

The trestle is 940 feet long and 150 feet above Rte. 213 in Rosendale.  The trestle was originally constructed in 1884.

I haven’t had a chance to check this trestle walkway just yet, but when I do I will report on my individual observations in a later newsletter.

I anyone doe cross this trestle walkway please give me your impression of the walkway and how it compares to the Walkway Over the Hudson.  Thank-you.

Observations:

The latest out of Egypt is that Mohammed Morsi lost his presidency by military coup and is now under house arrest by the military.

The conservative press is having a field day with military coup.  They exhort the U.S. government of supplying Morsi with tanks and fighter jets.  They don’t explain that the President did this to maintain a good relationship with the Egyptians because it was felt that Morsi could help stabilize the mid-East.  These Same people forget how President Nixon supplied the Shah of Iran with much the same military hardware.  Only to have the Shah booted from power by Ayatollah Kommeni and now we have Iran dominated by Muslin extremists with American military hardware.  Why?

It is evident that the Muslim Brotherhood is out of power in Egypt.  The same Muslim Brotherhood that the conservative commentators reviled a few short year ago.

sports:

The Yankees are as is usual having a tough go of it just before the All Star break.  They are now in 4^th place in the AL East, 5 ½ games back with a record of 48-41.

The Mets are still stuck in 4^th place in the NL East and are 12 games back with a record of 37-48.

other:

As with all previous issues of this newsletter, everything printed here is either copyright protected or copyright pending.  Following this newsletter is the history of P&G’s from when the building was first constructed in 1900 to about the mid 1930’s

Following this history is a short story I wrote several years ago called The HAUNTED VICTORIAN.  I hope you like it.

Ten years ago today my younger brother, Bob, died unexpectedly and tragically.

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 In

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.

The HAUNTED VICTORIAN

 

Tyler Fitzpatrick stopped his car across the road from the 1700’s Victorian that dominated the hill above the small eastern Pennsylvania town that bordered the Laxawana River.  He pulled his easel, a blank canvas and paint case from his trunk, set them up across the road from the house and then walked back and forth in front of the house from across the road, to see it from all angels of the front.  He finally decided he had the view etched in his brain and now it was time to do a preliminary sketch with a charcoal pencil.  He looked up constantly to make sure he had captured all the angles of the many cupolas and the windows on the roof.  After he was satisfied the preliminary sketch was completed, he reached into his paint case and pulled out the paint palette.  He dabbed several different colors on the palette, took a deep breath and prepared to loose himself with his art in oil.

It was not uncommon for Tyler to zone out when he painted his art.  He became so intent on capturing the hidden essence of his attention, most of the time he lost all thought of where and when he was.

Four hours later, the sun had almost dropped below the horizon and Tyler knew there would be little or no light to complete his painting, so he took the painting from the easel and slid it into a specially prepared case he used to carry wet canvases  He carefully placed the easel with the painting case inside the trunk of his car along with his other painters tools.  He drove home to his small A-Frame located on the mountain road just outside of town.  He didn’t bother to bring his painting inside, as he was exhausted and only wanted to sleep afer he had prepared dinner.  He would finish it up in the next day.  But he did lock all of his doors and the trunk.

He awoke the next morning with tangled remnants of dreams.  Most of which had to do

with the house he had been painting.  He walked to his kitchen to brew a much needed pot of

coffee.  After the coffee had finished perking, he sat at his kitchen counter sipping his coffee and

looking at the mountain side, thinking that maybe he should paint an autumn scene from his back porch.  He then remembered his painting in the trunk of his car.  He pulled his robe on and walked to his car to pull it out.  He thought he could finish it in the studio of his home.  He placed the easel in his studio and placed the canvas on the easel.   He wanted to wait until he was ready to finish it up in the afternoon when the suns rays would be almost perfect for the finishing touches.

He sat back in his arm chair, thinking who would buy his painting or would he be forced  to sell it from a private showing, which was usually the case.

As he thought, his phone rang and it was Lena, his lady friend, asking what he had for plans that day.  He explained the Victorian he had sketched and painted the previous day and he wanted to complete it within a week.

Lena knew when Tyler said he wanted to finish something, whether it be a painting or another project, he was impossible to move.  She asked that he call her when he was ready.

Tyler lay back on his couch.  He wanted or needed more sleep.  Even though he slept a good eight hours, which is what he usually needed.  The previous nights dreams had a disturbing affect on his sleep, so that he felt he had barely slept.  He tried to remember the dreams of that Victorian, though he knew they were disturbing, the dreams slipped into the netherworld of his mind.  He dozed on his couch until noon.  He rose, changed into suitable clothing, made a sandwich and brewed another pot of coffee.  He went into his studio and thought the afternoon light was almost perfect to put the finishing touches on his  painting.  As at the house the day before he even started the preliminary sketch, he

pacedback and forth in front of the painting to reestablish his bearings of the previous day.  Finally he was ready.  He picked up the palette with daubs of color and as usual zoned out when he painted.

After three hours, he stepped back, wiped his hands and brow, then looked at his work of art.  He was stunned by what he had painted.  In the many windows, he saw the shadowy appearances of faces.  He knew that there were no faces in the windows of the Victorian the previous day.  There couldn’t be because the Victorian had been abandoned for over one hundred and fifty years.  It was only recently the town decided to refurbish it because of its historical significance.

Tyler knew there were rumors and myths about the house, but he hadn’t paid attention to these words because he was only interested in the here and now.

Then he thought that maybe there was something to these stories and myths about the house.  Stories of untimely and tragic deaths.  And maybe, just maybe his subconscious was communicating with his painted art.  He didn’t know how else to explain the ghostly faces in the windows of his painting.

Then suddenly, he thought of Lena.  He had become attracted to Lena because of her art in poetry.  He remembered hearing her read her poetry the first time he had attended one of her readings.  When she wrote her poetry, she somehow saw beyond the physical and obvious.  She

wrote of the deeper essence with her words.  He wondered that if she saw the house, would she subconsciously see the ghostly images in the windows.

He went to the phone and dialed Lena.  After she answered he said.  “Hi Lena, it’s Tyler.

I was wondering if you could come over and look at the painting I am trying to complete.  But I

think I need another set of eyes to see what, if anything I missed.”

She said that though, she was in the middle of writing a poem, she would be at his place within the hour.

When she arrived, Tyler ushered her into his studio and asked her what she thought of his work.

“That’s the old, giant Victorian on Hill Street, isn’t?”

“Yes.  I decided I wanted to capture its old beauty and charm before the town destroys its beauty and charm with the newest renovation for history.”

“I like the way you captured that grand old home.  Especially the ghostly faces of the children in the windows.”

Tyler shook his head.  “I don’t remember seeing even a reflection of faces in the windows when I painted it yesterday.  And they weren’t there this afternoon when I started to put the finishing touches on the canvas.”  He paused trying to think.  “But this afternoon I finished the majority of it and I don’t recall putting them there.  But you know how I zone out when I paint.  I thought that maybe my subconscious is trying to guide my hand.”

Lena smiled at him.  “Tyler,  I know you never took those stories and myths about the ghostly happenings in that Victorian seriously, but I did research the hell out of it.”  She paused to gather her thoughts.  “That Victorian was built by a wealthy tycoon and abolitionist as a way station for the underground railroad.  It was especially used to hide orphaned slave children who were on the run from their masters.  There are tales that the slave masters forced the man to give up his home so they could recapture the runaway slave children.  There are tales of torture, rape and murder of these children.

Tyler stared at the painting with his face only inches from the canvas.  He shook his head.  “I can’t tell if these images are of children or adults.”

“Does it matter?”  Leans asked.

“I don’t know.”  He replied.  “But I would like to know who is guiding my hand.”

Lena nodded.  “I’ll tell you what.  I’ll give you everything I have about that old Victorian.  Maybe after you’ve read everything that I have, you might have a better insight into that house and your painting.”

“Sounds good.  Should I drive to your place and I will pick everything up?  Or do you want to bring it here to me?”

Lena thought for a minute.  “I’ll drive back to my place and get everything you will need.  It might take a couple of hours.  But I’ll be back by eight tonight.  Sound Good?”

Tyler smiled.  “Great.  I have a couple of steaks I have been marinating in sweet and sour sauce for over a day.  I’ll be cooking outside on the grill when you arrive..  Along with a couple of baked potatoes with a tossed salad.”

Lena squeezed through the door.  “It’s a date.”  She said as she wiggled her ass provocatively.

That night Tyler stayed within the current culinary standards by cooking the steaks a medium-rare instead of the rare he preferred when he ate alone.  He had the tossed  salad ready

and waiting when Lena arrived.  She had to make two trips out to her car to carry the two boxes

of books and research material into Tylers home.  He would have offered to help, but he was

busy with the steaks on the back porch.

After Lena brought in the second box, he asked.  “Is that all you have?”

Lena shook her head.  “No. I have one more thing to bring in.  I’ll be right back.”  She came back in dragging a suitcase.

“You planning on staying the night?”  Tyler asked.

“I thought it would be easier if you talked with someone as you researched and learned from what I have brought over.  Talking can only help and maybe later on tonight we could fool around.”  She said sheepishly.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”  He said as he flipped the steaks over for the umpteenth time.  “They’re almost done.  Could you get the plates out along with the silverware and napkins.  Set the table inside as it is too cool to eat outside tonight.  Also grab the salad bowls and put the salad in them.  There are three different dressings in the frig.  Take your pick and we dine in leisure.”

After they had finished eating, Lena offered to wash dishes while Tyler read the material she had brought over.  He agreed to her plan, grabbed a beer from the frig and a book from one box then sat in an easy chair and read.

A half hour later, Lena sat on the couch and watched Tyler read.  She could see he was

enthralled and intrigued with everything he read.  He stood up almost automatically to retrieve more from either of the boxes.  Lena said nothing as he read.  She took out a pad and scribbled

possible poems on a pad as Tyler read.

After three hours of reading, Tyler put down the book, rubbed his eyes.  “Man.  My eyes

are tired.”  He told Lena.

Lena looked up from her pad.  “You are done for the night?”

“Yeah.  I need to relax my eyes with sleep.”  He said.

“Want to fool around a little before you sleep?”

“What do you have in mind?”  Tyler asked with a leer.

“Oh.  The usual.”  Lena leered back.

“The usual!?”  Tyler exclaimed with mock embarrassment.  “I’ll never get any sleep.”

“Why do you say that?”  Lena asked mischievously.

“Because you wear me out each and every time we bed each other.”  Tyler admitted.

“But, you enjoy it and it will take your mind off that Victorian and its damnable history.”  She smiled seductively.

“You do that very well, my love.”  He admitted.

They went to the bedroom and as Lena promised, she exhausted Tyler, so that he fell asleep almost immediately.  At three in the morning Tyler awoke with the same disturbing dreams of the previous night, but this time he could recall more of the dreams then before.  He saw small black children , ages from about five to thirteen screaming.  Not in pain, but in terror.  He tried to retrieve from his dream the cause of their terror, but was unable to do so.

He rose silently from the bed so as not to awaken Lena, sleeping so peacefully.  He went to the living room, poured himself a healthy shot of Irish Whiskey over ice and topped it with a

splash of water.  He sat in his easy chair, in his studio, sipping his drink and looking at his still

uncompleted  painting.  As he stared at his painting, he reviewed the remnants of the dream he could recall.  Somehow his staring at the painting brought these dream remnants into sharper focus.

As he sipped and stared, Lena came into his studio.  She sat on the couch, trying her

best not to disturb Tyler because she knew he was pensive and concentrating on seeing something inside his painting.  Finally Tyler turned and recognized her presence.

“Hi.”  He said.  “I didn’t wake you with these loud thoughts in my brain, did I?”

“No.  I just rolled over and found you missing and I decided to find out where you went.”  She said back sweetly.  “So why are you sitting here drinking and staring at your painting?”

He explained the dreams from the morning before and that morning.  How the latest dreams were more dramatic and he remembered more.  When Lena asked what more he remembered.  He told her that the children were afraid of something and they were in terror of it.

Lena asked what they were terrorized of and Tyler explained he had no idea.

They went back to bed and fell immediately into a deep, but troubled sleep.

Both Lena and Tyler woke at ten in the morning.  They had breakfast, made by Tyler with coffee.  Lena explained she had some errands to run and wouldn’t be back until after six that night.  Tyler understood and said it was better he was alone with no one around to interrupt his zoned out painting.

That afternoon, when the sun light was almost perfect, Tyler went back to the painting, hoping to have it finished that day or the next.  He painted for just over three hours.  The sun had

dropped enough below the window that he knew it was time to stop.  He stepped away from the

easel and examined what he had accomplished.  He saw that he had put the finishing touches to

the first and second floors of the house.  He also saw some detail in the two floor to ceiling windows that flanked the front door.  When he looked at one window more closely on the second floor, he saw a ghostly face with an arm gesturing for Tyler to look more closely at the window below and through it.  Tyler shook his head.  Both of the windows that flanked the front door were covered with plywood when he started the painting.  Now were they uncovered.  How and why?  He looked as closely as he could at the window, his eyes only inches from the painting.  Through the open window he saw the image of a grizzled old man pulling a struggling little girl to a door in the rear of the large ornate room.  The old man had a switch that looked as if he was going to use it to swat the poor little girl. Tyler pulled himself away from the window and looked at the painting from five feet.  “How?”  He asked himself.  ” Did I paint that scene in that window?   It was closed yesterday, and with so much detail.”  He decided he had to get into that house and examine the insides more closely.

He called the contractor that was doing the renovations.  He explained that he was doing a painting of the house and wondered if he could get inside to see the house with a better understanding.  He explained it would be better if he could see it on Sunday when there were no workers to distract him.  The contractor agreed to a one o’clock showing that Sunday afternoon.  .

Tyler arrived at the Victorian a few minutes before 1:00 that Sunday and he walked around the house, staring at the windows.  Trying to see the faces that magically appeared in the

windows of his painting.  He didn’t see anything if he intentionally looked at the windows, but he thought he caught a glimpse of faces in terror if he casually glanced at a window.  This continued for several minutes.  He was alone until the contractor arrived.

The general contractor, Dave Cutter, arrived a few minutes past one.  He apologized for being late.  Tyler shook his hand saying, it gave him time to study the house by himself.

After shaking Tyler’s hand, Dave said.  “I have seen your art work at the Bull Moose on Main Street in town.  And I must say, I am impressed with your paintings.

Tyler smiled.  “Thank you.  I hope you understand that I try to see everything in the subject I am painting.  That is the reason I want to see the inside of this house.”

Dave pulled a set of keys from his pocket and motioned for Tyler to follow him.  After he unlocked the front door and they were in the large foyer that had peeling wallpaper and stained woodwork, he asked what Tyler wanted to see first of the grand old house.

Tyler was unsure because the attic attracted him, but so did the basement.  He decided to see the attic first.

Before they went to attic, Dave showed off his workers skill on the first three floors.  He showed off the craftsmanship of his workers, boasting constantly.  They finally came to the third floor below the attic.  Dave explained when he pulled down the drop stairway that his workers were uncomfortable working up there and even he got the creeps when he worked with them in the attic.

They climbed the drop stairway and Tyler was immediately confronted with what looked like tiny stalls on both sides of the attic.  There was very little room in each stall and there were

thirty stalls total, fifteen per side of the house.  A tiny person , a small child could live in each

stall, but they couldn’t be more than four or five feet tall.  The tiny stalls were obviously the

living berths for the recaptured slave children.  Because there were two shackles on the wall of each stall to obviously restrain the children.

As they roamed the aisle between the stalls, Tyler had no glimpses of anything.  He

finally said he would like to check out the basement.

The steps leading to the basement were rickety and old.  Dave explained that the first thing his workers would do would be to construct a safer stairway to the basement.

When Tyler reached the bottom of the stairs, he stepped onto a hard packed dirt floor.  Dave explained he was planning on covering the floor with six inches of concrete.  Tyler said he thought that a concrete floor would take away from the realism of the old Victorian because he saw hand sculpted stones that were fitted precisely to form the foundation of the old manor.

As he and Dave explored the environs of the basement, they came to the west end of the basement and Tyler immediately saw that the granite stone that formed the foundation was different.  There was what appeared to be an arch in the foundation made up of small stones and brick.  He pointed this out to Dave asking.  “Why do you suppose that was constructed?”

Dave just shrugged, saying he didn’t know and turned to walk back to the stairway, but Tyler stayed at the wall, staring, as if he could see beyond the arch.   There was something about the arch that intrigued him and he knew he had to paint it on canvas.

He followed Dave up the stairs to the first floor before he asked if he could set up his easel in the basement and paint the arch.  Dave just shrugged and said it was okay with him.

They agreed that Dave would let him into the manor the following Sunday so he could do the

painting.

After he and Dave finished at the Victorian, Tyler went back to his home just in time for

the suns light to be perfect for the finishing touches of the old Victorian.  When he got to his A-frame his front door opened with Lena in the doorway wearing barely nothing at all.

“You know you could be arrested for indecent exposure by wearing what you are barely wearing?” Tyler said.

“All the parts of my body that could cause any problem are covered properly.” She explained.

“Yeah.  But only barely.”  Tyler leered.

  As usual, as he painted, he zoned out completely.  When the sun had dipped to almost the horizon, Tyler stopped and studied what he had painted.  This time the shadowy faces in the windows all looked down to the basement.  And Tyler knew that his painting of the arch in the foundation of the manor  would answer the questions that so bothered him of the manor.

Lena came into the studio when she saw Tyler cleaning his brushes because she knew he had finished for the day.  She came behind Tyler, wrapped her arms around his waist.  “I bought steamers and lobster for tonight.”  She said.

“You know how I like steamers and lobster.”  Tyler replied with a grin.

“I know.  I also bought oysters to better prepare you for tonight.”

“So it’s going to be one of those nights.”  He said anxiously.

“You got that right.”

The Following Sunday

Tyler met Dave at the Victorian at nine in the morning that day.  Dave helped him bring his painters tools to the basement.  They then dragged Dave’s special battery powered lights down to the basement.  Tyler knew there was no natural light or electrical lights down there and he knew he would need these special lights to highlight the basement as he painted.

After Dave left, Tyler stared at the arch and tried to see through it.  He paced back and forth in front of the arch to see if there was anything he should capture in his painting.  Finally he was ready to do the preliminary sketch.  After he finished the sketch he immediately started the painting on the canvas.  And as always he zoned out as he painted.

He didn’t know how long he had been painting because he didn’t wear a watch, but his eyes felt strained.  So strained that his eyes had no tears.  He wiped his hands and rubbed his eyes vigorously.  He then stared at the painting of the arch in the basement wall.

The arch was there, but no longer covered by small stone and brick.  Instead he saw the

arch snake through the ground to a distant light.  And in the tunnel he saw the figures of small

children running with their faces looking back in horror at the same grizzled old man with a

switch that he had painted on the first floor of the manor.  The children were running to the light

at the end of the tunnel and when Tyler looked closely at the light it was in reality a lantern

illuminating the Laxawana River.  Tyler read once when he first moved to the small town near Honesdale, that the Laxawana River was the first stage of the D&H Canal that went to the Delaware River and eventually to the Hudson River and to New York City.  The canal was opened in the mid 1830’s and continued for years until the introduction of the railroad.  He also knew that the barges on the D&H Canal carried escaped slaves from the south to New York that had abolished slavery in the 1820’s.

The tunnel that led from the manor to the Laxawana River was an escape route for runaway slaves and more precisely runaway slave children.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes again.  “Someone or something is guiding my hand.”  He thought.  “But who and why?  Is it my subconscious or the spirits of the children who were recaptured, raped and murdered in the manor?”

There was something about the manor that was troubling him.  It had a terrible history of that he was certain.  He knew he had to investigate the manor, its history and all the owners.

He carried all his painting tools back to his car, but left the lights that Dave let him use in the basement turned off.  He knew Dave would be there early Monday to collect the lights.

He went to the town museum and historical society to gather as much as he could about the history of the Victorian manor.  He learned that the abolitionist who had the manor built was Mahoney, a man who provided boots and clothing for the American soldiers during the American Revolution.  He was bought out of the house by a family called Dewitt.  He learned that the Dewitts favored forced slavery of African men, women and children.  He also learned the Dewitt family was paid handsomely for every escaped slave who was recaptured and sold

back to the southern plantation owners.  With this trade the Dewitts made enough money to buy most of the towns mills. farms and boarding houses.  He read one small column in the towns early newspaper that the Dewitts financed the Klan in many southern states and in Pennsylvania.

Even in the present the Dewitt name was found almost everywhere from farms to mills to motel/hotels to major stores.  When Tyler first moved to the town he had an unnatural loathing

for the Dewitt name and now he knew the reason for this loathing. He decided when he drove

home that he would do a painting of the attic with its thirty tiny stalls.  He knew his subconsciousness would guide his hand on what actually happened in that attic.  He also decided that he would produce several paintings of the manor, both outside and inside.  He would then have a showing of his art and hopefully point out the evil of the Dewitt family and how this evil helped them attain their wealth.

When he told Lena of his plans, she agreed with him enthusiastically.  In fact she thought that if she viewed his finished paintings, she would write a poem for each.

When the showing of his paintings was finally ready, he and Lena knew that the Dewitt family would protest the showings.  And they knew they would have to get local people to provide a guard for the site where they planned on the showing.   Dave Cutter agreed to let them use the manor he was remolding for the showing and he and his men would provide the necessary protection and security.

Tyler found a local writer to write the brief history of the manor.  This booklet would be

sold at the showing to allow the writer to realize some payback for his efforts.

The showing was a complete success and Lena was able to sell her booklet of poems as

well as the writer.  Tyler’s paintings were a hit with everyone who viewed them.

The Dewitt family was naturally incensed that the art showing was such a success and used the local paper they owned to condemn it.   But it had little affect on the people of the town.  .

In fact Tylers paintings were such a success, he was offered a showing of his paintings in

a New York City studio where he realized a much needed payback for his art.  Even Lena was offered a book contract for her poems of the manor.  The publisher decided that it was necessary that for each poem in the book of the manor a photograph of the painting that Lena wrote about would be included in the book.

Both Tyler and Lena realized a long sought payback for their works of art.  Even the Dewitt family was forced to sell Lena’s books and Tyler’s painting reproductions in their stores.  Though they did so very reluctantly.

The spirits of those enslaved black children were finally released from their limbo that they had been imprisoned with the release of the reproductions of Tylers paintings in stores throughout the country.