CT – 215                          CORNERSTONE TRAVELER                                         AUG.  6 ‘13

 

Hi everyone 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:  The news for the mid-Hudson Valley farmers is good in regards to their crops.  This is especially true for the apple farmers.  The wet and chilly spring coupled with the hot days of August in mid-July is considered good growing climate for the produce grown.  The apple farmers especially like this type of climate.  They are expecting a bumper crop of apples this year.

I know for the general public, the spring was cold and damp (wet).  And the mid July heat wave with nine days of above 90 degrees was especially burdensome for the general public.  The farmers didn’t voice any concern about the bee population that is critical in the pollenation of the various fruits and vegetables grown in the area.  So I guess the bees did their required duties in regards to pollenation.  I didn’t hear of any farmers bringing in bee hives from far away.  I personally think that the corn grown in the mid-Hudson Valley is the best.  I’ve been told this is because the farmers reap the corn husks before the sun rises.  In this way the corn syrup is in the kernels, making the corn that much more delectable.  When the sun rises the corn syrup retreats back into the stalks of the corn plant.

This past Sunday there was Old Timers Day in Saugerties.  There were essentially booths promoting Saugerties with one table of old post cards of Saugerties.  They had bed races up and down Partion Street.  The winning time was 1 minute 25.5 seconds.  There was an old time country band that had a Virginia Reel for dancers.  The steps were a little bit complicated and I know I would have been lost trying even without my cane.  All in all it was an interesting event.

observations:

The Army private, Bradley Manning could get up to 100 years in a military prison for copying over 700,000 pages of classified documents onto a formatted Lady Gaga

CD’s and giving them to Wikileaks for distribution to the general public.  I insist his superior should be demoted or at least reprimanded for allowing such an action to occur.  I don’t know what Manning’s reasons were for dissemination of these classified documents were.  But it does show that there must be tougher controls on access and the copying of classified data.  It really is a simple procedure.  Before anyone can copy data, a superior must enter a secret code (password) on the persons P.C. (Computer terminal) to make such a copy.  I have seen this procedure countless times in supermarkets when a person wants to purchase alcoholic beverages.  The cashier cannot sell this product until a manager comes to their register and swipes a special card through a card scanner.  How difficult can this be?

Now Edward Snowden has gotten political asylum in Russia because he knows if he returns to the United States, he could suffer the same punishment as Manning.

Again I ask, as I did a couple of issues ago in this newsletter, how does a high school dropout and a discharged enlistee after only four months of enlistment get clearance to have access to secret and classified government data.

I have heard many people complain about drone surveillance in the United States.  These are the same paranoids that said that there were black government helicopters patrolling the skies of America.  These are the same people who wear tin foil under their hats so aliens cannot read their thoughts.

Just think about.

sports:

At last, the A-Rod dispute with the MLB is finally over.  Or is it?  A-Rod can continue to play for the Yankees until his appeal is adjudicated.

My thought of steroid is: Yes they increase the muscle power of the user.  But people like A-Rod still have to make contact with the thrown pitch and steroids do nothing to help them in this regard.

I do believe that Lance Armstrong should be stripped of his Tour de France wins because PED’s helped in his wins.  But steroids won’t do squat when you are facing a 90+ mph fast ball at the plate.  You still have to make contact with it.   And PED’s don’t help in this regard.  Just as chewing tobacco doesn’t help ball players.

The Yankees are 8 ½ games back in the AL East with a record of 57-54

The Mets are 17 games back in the NL East with a record of 49-60.

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 the year 1900 when the building was first constructed to about the mid 1930’s.

The short story included after the history of P&G’s is called WIND DANCERS.  I wrote this short story to promote a novel I wrote and still editing and not published just yet. This short story can be found in my book of short stories called The COSMIC WHISPERER.  Available on amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com

Thank-you    -   Rik McGuire

              

 

                     The History of P&G’s from the Beginning

 

Travel back more than a century to the spring of 1900 as builder John H. Hasbrouck and his men construct a 50′ by 28′ building on the site of the current P&G’s Restaurant.  Look around and begin to imagine.

The first floor features a fountain with water softly falling into a cobblestone basin.  The exotic effect is enhanced with darting goldfish and blooming water lilies.  Palms set liberally throughout the room, provide an air of privacy for those seated at the groups of small tables.  Patrons, dressed in their finest, sit chatting, sometimes courting and enjoying the establishments fine refreshments.

The upper story is a promenade, opened to a full view of sunset over the Shawangunk Mountains.  Live music gently eases you from afternoon into evening.  Welcome to the ambiance and hospitality of the Casino.

The Casino’s owner, Mr Steen, had correctly envisioned the areas many tourists, summer boarders and trolley passengers stopping to enjoy the unique features of his establishment.  The terminal station for the trolley line from Highland is located just across Main Street.  It is said that Steen patterned the Casino after the famous Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs.

On June 1, 1900 the Casino was officially opened.  That evening “a large number of people enjoyed the ice cream, music and the lovely mountains views.”  according to the New Paltz Independent newspaper.  Music was provided by a band which included a piano and several other instruments.  The Casino soon became famous for Saturday night dances held on the second floor of the open pavilion.  It was decorated with flowers and vines suspended from the rafters.  The crowds were so large that special late trolley cars were run to accommodate the guests and take the orchestra back to Poughkeepsie.

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

By 1921 the Casino had changed hands and names, becoming the Blue Crane Inn.  Ads of the era read.

The big Night at the Blue Crane Inn

Dancing Every Wednesday and Saturday Evening

In the Chinese Hall-Good Jazzy Music.

The cornerstone of nightlife in New Paltz continued to thrive.

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

                                           THE WIND DANCER’s

 

I had first met the Wind Dancers a year and a half ago at a Native festival.  I was writing a short piece for a local newspaper about the festival.  The editors of the paper were intrigued by the reason for the festival.  A time to honor the war dead of the native peoples.  We had met at a picnic table over a cup of apple bark coffee, a coffee specially brewed by his people, the Ondega people from Maine. He didn’t look like a native American, but he assured me he was of the Ondega people.  He called himself J-miah, definitely not a native name, he had to spell it out and explain how he came about that name.  It seems a friend of his when he was a young boy had a stuttering problem and couldn’t pronounce Jeremiah without stuttering and the name J-miah arose.

I was impressed with the way he was dressed.  He wore leggings that looked supple and comfortable with moccasins and a tunic with the image of a crow or raven flying to the sun on the front and flying away from the sun on the back.  I asked J-miah the meaning behind the image on his tunic.  He explained it was the sign of his being.  I was and looked confused and he explained further.

“I am.”  He said.  “A Wind Dancer.  I can see and communicate with the spirits of the dead.”

“You talk to the dead?”  I asked incredulously.

He only smiled and nodded.  “It is difficult to understand or even believe, but believe me I can.  I was taught to do this by my soul partner.  She taught all I needed to know, or so I thought until I met Grey Wolf, our spirit guide.    I learned that I will continue to learn with each spirit I communicate with.”

It was at this point a beautiful and I mean gorgeous woman appeared by his side and smiled at me.  She was a gorgeous creature with long black hair that came down past her bare shoulders and she wore supple animal skin clothing that covered her, but only barely.  She had such a sweet smile, that I was immediately in love.

“Hi.”  She smiled, extending her hand towards me.  “My name is Qurwam and I heard my soul

mate, my love, explain his and my existence as Wind Dancers.  I am here to help him with his explanation of who and what we are.”

I was envious and intrigued.  I immediately reached into my ever present bag, grabbed my notebook and pen.  I explained I was a struggling writer with a local newspaper and wanted to know more of Wind Dancers, if they were willing.  They looked at each other, smiled and said they wanted everyone to know of the spirits of the dead.  This is the reason for Wind Dancers.  Qurwam explained that J-miah was accepted by her people because he is a Wind Dancer.

They explained they became Wind Dancers when they both walked in the land of the dead.

J-miah from a motorcycle accident that left him in a coma for six weeks and Qurwam, the beautiful princess, when she was in a coma from rheumatic fever as a child.  They said their spirit guide was a Native American who had died three hundred years ago at the hands of the whites.  He was called Grey Wolf.  They said he  guided the two of them in their pursuit of knowledge in the land of the dead.

Later that night the two of them were instrumental on guiding the people at the festival to honor those who had died in this country’s wars, most specifically the native peoples who had died.   To honor the dead they spoke each name of a native American who had died in this nations wars and even before America became a nation.  They did this by having assistants hand to  everyone a corn cob bowl with tobacco in it.  We were to light the  bowl  as we faced north and at the command of the Wind Dancers, turn to the east and then turn to the south, to the west and turn one last time back to the north.  And I swear on a stack of bibles that the calm breeze became more intense and at the same time almost soothing.

I swear, though I couldn’t see the spirits of those who had died, I could feel them like a

calm breeze or wind past my body.  It was then I realized the reason for the name Wind Dancers.  At

the conclusion of the ceremony, I searched for the two of them.  It wasn’t difficult because they were

surrounded by dozens of native peoples who were clamoring for more history and knowledge of those who had died. When I finally got to them, I breathlessly asked what more I needed to know.  As they held each other, they asked if I had felt a wind caress me.  I said that I did feel a calm breeze on my shoulders and that it felt good.  They asked if I knew anyone who had died in the wars of our country.  I explained, I had lost several friends in Vietnam.  It was then that J-miah spoke without guidance or interruption from Qurwam.   He said he had lost many friends in that hated war.  He told me he was there.  I saw the tears in his eyes when he said he saw the spirits of his friends who had died there.  I wish I could have seen the friends I had lost in that hated war

I walked with them around the festival and at each booth they were stopped and congratulated for the service to honor the war dead.  There wasn’t one complaint from anyone.  And as we walked, they held each other tight.  I could tell that they loved each other very much and I was envious.

Finally after about thirty minutes of walking I asked.  “Do you summon the spirits to talk to them or do they summon you?”

Qurwam turned and smiled.  “We can summon them or they will summon us depending on the need at the time.”

I told them I had hundreds of questions if they were willing and again they explained that they wanted to take the mystery and myth from the spirit world.

J-miah said that he had a hard time believing that he could communicate with the spirits when Qurwam first told him he could.  I asked what had changed his mind.  He told me in detail how he had met with Grey Wolf, their spirit guide.  And Grey Wolf took him back in time to the day of his birth, three

hundred years in the past, through the years of Grey Wolf growing up and finally to the day that

Grey Wolf was killed by a  hunting party of newly arrived white people.  He told me that Grey Wolf was killed at the same time his pet, a  Mackenzie Timber Wolf was killed.  He also explained how the spirit of his pet, this wolf was always by the side of Grey Wolf.

I was stunned and I asked if the spirits of animal survive to he spirit world?  J-miah shook his head because he wasn’t sure, but he knew he saw the spirit of the wolf every time he met with Grey Wolf.  He was unsure of other animals, but suspected they might exist in the spirit world a level or so beneath the spirit world of Grey Wolf and human spirits.  I vowed to myself to contact known and respected paranormal experts to ask what they knew or suspected of the spirit world.  When I suggested that  J-miah and Qurwam talk to these paranormal experts, they shook their heads “No!”  They explained they did not wish to be studied, only listened to.  They knew what they were and what they could do, they had no need to boast of this to sceptics and they didn’t want to be probed and studied.  People either accept what they are or they don’t.    They explained that the native peoples don’t believe a person truly dies until they are no longer remembered.  There must be memories of those who have passed for them to still live in the afterlife.

I came away from that festival a changed man.  I now could see with the eyes of the native peoples and how they saw the dead.  Qurwam and J-miah taught me more than I could have learned in hours of classroom teachings with paranormal instructors.

I don’t know how better to explain what I had learned then what I have written, but believe me the spirits of the dead exist and want to be heard if we only will allow them to be heard.

The following was my newspaper article that I wrote for the small local newspaper, The

American Tribune.

Brad Tyler: July 26.1980

American Tribune

The Ondega Tribe of Southern Maine, held a native American festival at the State Park in Salisbury Massachusetts this past weekend.  It was an enlightening event for this reporter.  You had to be there to appreciate now they honor their dead and on this particular weekend, their war dead.  It was truly an eye opening event and I witnessed first hand how these people honor their war dead.

There were two people who led the ceremonies to honor the war dead.  J-miah and Qurwam.  They are accepted as Wind Dancers or ones who can communicate with the dead because they both walked in the land of the dead when they suffered either injuries or illness that left each in a coma for an extended period of time. During the ceremony we were required to light a corncob bowl filled with tobacco and at their instruction, we faced north and with further instruction turned to the east, south, west and back to the north.  And then they read the names of all natives who died in this nations wars going back to the French-Indian war and up to the present.

And this reporter will swear on a stack of bibles that during this entire reading I felt a calm breeze on my shoulders.  When I asked J-miah and Qurwam about this, they explained that it was the spirits of the dead sweeping by me that I felt.  They also explained that many of my friends who had died in Vietnam were also there at the

festival and it could have been their spirits that swept by me.

As much as I tried to talk with them of their purpose as Wind Dancers, but I had to compete with their fellow tribes people.  Though J-miah was not born in the Ondega tribe, he was adopted by them because they learned he is like Qurwam, a Wind Dancer and it is known that not all people are chosen to be Wind Dancers even if they had suffered a coma as J-miah had when he crashed his Harley Davidson Sportster.

I found J-miah and Qurwam reading my newspaper article a few days after the festival.  They smiled and hugged each other, thinking that maybe the beliefs of their people would finally be accepted by the non-believing Judeo/Christian world.  They wanted these people to understand that the native peoples were not pagan/heathen earth worshipers, but people who believed in the after life just as Jesus had taught his followers. They told me that the spirit of Grey Wolf and his pet Crazy Wolf hovered behind me they told me that their spirit guide was happy with the way I had written the newspaper article.  They were sitting just outside their wigwam and around the night time campfire then only ashes.

They stopped talking to each other and to me and looked past me, over my shoulders.  They appeared to be listening to someone or something, but I heard nothing.  They then started to nod and smile at me.  I asked them what they were smiling about.

They said.  “You are about to experience something you will find perplexing and confusing.  Do not be afraid, you are about to see for your self the spirit world we talk about.

And I swear on the same stack of bibles I swore upon twice before that I felt a wind pass through me.  I found myself hundreds of years in the past, seeing a young native man running through a forest

with a pet canine by his side.  I heard the two of them yell and yelp at a herd of foraging deer, causing the deer to scatter and run from the clearing in the forest.  I then saw five or six men in period  clothing of the early years of the new world take aim with their rifles and shoot the young native man and his pet several times.  I also saw that after the man and his pet fall to the ground dead, I saw the spiritual essence of the man and his pet rise from the bodies on the ground.  They just shook their heads and hovered over the white men who had shot them.  The men must have felt something in the air because they looked at each other, babbled and ran from the forest.

After I came out of this experience, I saw J-miah and Qurwam smile at me asking what I saw.  I told them as precisely as I could what I had seen.  They only nodded and explained that I had witnessed the death of their spirit guide and his pet wolf over three hundred years earlier.  I accepted this readily because I had seen the spiritual essence of each float after their deaths.

That experience changed me for all time.  I now know the beliefs of the native peoples and how they view life and death.

J-miah and Qurwam knew it would be many years of them guiding festivals of the dead before more people accepted their beliefs of the life hereafter.

Later that year I received a personal invitation to attend J-miah’s and Qurwam’s wedding that was held in a field in the village of the Ondega People.  They had incorporated the village with the state of Maine as the People’s Village.

When I first arrived at the Peoples Village, my first impression was how orderly and clean it was.  I didn’t see one carelessly discarded piece or litter anywhere.

The ceremony was held in the field and attended by everyone in the village as I assumed because there were more than a thousand people in attendance.  Everyone cheered the nuptials of J-miah and

Qurwam.  And I swear again on the same stack of bibles as before, there was a calm and soothing breeze that wafted by my shoulders when they wed.  And I can only assume it was the spirits of the dead who approved and witnessed the wedding.

The reception after the wedding was a sumptuous feast of huge proportions.  It was impossible for any to leave the reception hungry.

    8:00 p.m.

    8/18/04

    @P&G’s