FYI
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Llyn Clague
his issue starts with a profile of our CFO Jean Eccleston by Muriel Fox. Jean has played a critical role in not only managing but substantially improving Kendal on Hudson’s finances in the short time she has been with us. In addition, with a trait not necessarily associated with “financial types,” Jean is a committed “people person.” Anne White presents three possible outings for Kendalites as, fully vaccinated, we look further afield. We follow with several descriptions of meaningful personal experiences in the lives of fellow residents: Bill Lyons shares intimate and amusing moments from his childhood, including how a babyish nickname followed him into the Air Force. Jim Woods relates a plane crash involving contraband alcohol (with a snapshot); Edith Litt describes a summer learning to live intelligently with alcohol; Jerry Littner takes us “barging” with Suzanne through France on its canals (also with a photo). Following my article on the importance of demography for New York, Peter Seldin takes us to a revelatory summer in Sweden, and we end with a poem of mine celebrating (if you can call it that) “eating out.” The front cover photograph was taken by Arthur Brady at Stone Crop Gardens. The circle frames the pond, the rough rock wall, and the rich foliage. The inside front cover is by Mona Dukess. She writes, “I used my camera on a sunny day to capture reflections in a pond of tall green plants and white reflections of sky and water. The abstract nature of the print allows for personal interpretations.” The inside back cover is also by Arthur; depicting Kendal’s Pergola over time, he calls it “A Pergola for All Seasons.” The back cover is by Edward Kasinec. Called “A Beckoning Northern Vista,” it looks north up the Hudson. Kendal View readers: Do you have a story, adventure, event in your life you would like to share with the community? Write it yourself, or talk with us, and we will write it. Contact Pat or me. KENDAL VIEW STAFF Editor Pat Taylor Managing Editor Llyn Clague Editorial Staff Eugene DuBow, Doris Eder, Muriel Fox, Edith Litt, Deborah O’Keefe, Sue Phillips, Pat Seldin, Norman Sissman Photography Editors Arthur Brady, Caroline Persell Advertising Director Peter McCuen 1
Our CFO Is a Hugger Muriel Fox Jean Eccleston, our Chief Financial Officer, is not the CFO that one might expect. Sure, she’s a Numbers Person. But she’s also a People Person. Surprisingly, this is an important part of her job. Jean says 15 to 20 percent of her work is helping residents and staff solve financial problems. “I try to find a way to say Yes to people.” When an organization has had a problem, Jean has found solutions through building teams and creating new relationships. As the divorced mother of a 20-year-old daughter on the autism spectrum, Jean has overcome many obstacles in her life. In her previous job at a Florida CCRC, she helped them weather Hurricane Wilma and the Great Recession. When she decided to leave the Florida facility, one factor was the abundance of helpful resources available for her daughter in the mid-Hudson area. Here at Kendal on Hudson, Jean looks forward to the post-Covid day when close personal contact is permitted once again. “I’m a hugger. In my last position I was a CFO who got hugged every day.” Jean has been given credit for her savvy and skill in helping KoH return to the healthy financial position it enjoys today. She worked with four different CEOs in her first three years here. When Pat Doyle hired her in January 2018, the CFO position had been open for 18 months. Nobody in the department had an Accounting degree. (Now four out of six hold Accounting degrees.) Our balance sheet is strong, and Jean predicts we’ll grow even stronger in the months ahead. Jean points out, “In effect we operate as a complicated insurance company. Our fiduciary responsibility to every resident is to stay strong financially.” In a past time of temporary financial difficulty, caused by what the much-loved Pat Doyle called “a tsunami of death and dementia,” KoH had been forced to make a small interim reduction in the work-hour schedules of employees. Jean’s team was able to restore most of the old work schedule in the 2019 budget. Three years later, our high-and-growing occupancy rate – enhanced by an effective marketing department – provides the revenues we need for a robust balance sheet. Jean’s office is next to the office of our CEO Pamela Klapproth. She helps Pamela work out decisions that are “always a balancing act that manages revenues and expenses.” Jean will serve on Pamela’s various strategic teams working on future developments, such as dining renovations to keep current and future residents happy. “Considerations must include cost, as well as the lifestyle needs of Baby Boomers, who will want more food choices and more varied ways of dining. We’ll also have to keep in mind the feelings of some residents who don’t want too much change.” 2
Jean was born and raised in the town of Denville, in Morris County, New Jersey. At the age of 12, after reading To Kill a Mockingbird, she realized what her goals and ambitions would be. “It changed the way I look at life. I wanted to make a difference in the world.” She was a shy child, so she planned to work behind the scenes, avoiding the limelight. She attended the University of Scranton, graduating in 1990. As a high school freshman she took a course in Bookkeeping, and loved it. She chose a college major in Accounting and ultimately earned a CPA degree. Jean has worked more than 30 years building the experience that led to all the things she does for us here at KoH. She was an auditor at two major accounting firms, Ernst & Young and KPMG Peat Marwick. She worked for Cleveland Clinic Florida, a renowned acute care hospital. She spent 16 years (10 years as CFO) at John Knox Village in Pompano Beach, Florida, a CCRC with a population three times that of Kendal on Hudson. Now Jean is adding another skill to her broad expertise: At night she’s attending Pace Law School! She has just completed the first year of a four-year program. When does she do the heavy reading for her courses? Late nights and weekends. She also find time for her hobby of hiking. “I rediscovered my love of hiking when I moved up here. I find a spiritual connection going up in the mountains.” She and her daughter have just moved to a spacious apartment in Upper Saddle River, New Jersey. On low-traffic days it will be a 35-minute commute. Jean describes herself as a happy person and says she feels especially contented in the “warm and welcoming” atmosphere of Kendal on Hudson. She loves the way everyone says Hello. “The Quaker Values speak to me. The way we treat each other is important to me and my team. We’re like a family here.” She admires the bonding between residents and employees. She has enjoyed helping some employees restructure the financial aspects of their lives. Here’s one way Jean has helped KoH enhance its responsiveness to residents’ needs: She and Residents Services Director Ellen Ottstadt devised a system allowing residents to exchange their big bills from ATMs for smaller, more convenient currency. This innovation was a response to a request made by residents at a Kendal Forum. (Incidentally, Jean moved quickly and got KoH included in the first federal program to help small businesses in the early days of the pandemic.) We asked Jean if Accounting is a good field for young persons to consider. Won’t artificial intelligence wipe out the need for real people? She says there will always be a need for accountants. “Some of the labor-intensive numbers work will be done by computers. But the strategizing and decision-making and personal relationships must still be provided by trained human beings.” Pamela Klapproth summarized Jean’s contribution this way: “I greatly appreciate Jean’s awareness of and support for Kendal on Hudson’s residents and employees. Jean brings her compassion and understanding to reviewing financial matters, helping to balance what’s right for our residents and employees with Kendal’s financial performance. Jean is not the typical CFO.” 3
Stepping Out After the Pandemic Anne White One of the delights of living at Kendal is looking out at the ever-changing Hudson River, watching sunsets and storms blowing in, ships and barges, sailboats and kayaks. We also have Rockwood Hall right next door, with carriage roads, trails, and benches to rest and enjoy the views. Now, with most residents protected by vaccines, many are ready to venture further afield. Here are a few suggestions for walks along the river in Sleepy Hollow. From Kendal to Fremont Pond. (Warning: uneven terrain, 1½ miles round trip.) This walk takes you through the Sleepy Hollow Manor neighborhood, along winding streets lined with old-growth trees and single-family homes, to Fremont Pond, where you may find a couple of boys fishing from the bridge. Take the trail across from the Clermont cul-de-sac. At the other end, follow Birch Close to Hemlock Drive, turn right, then right again on Pokahoe Drive, with the historic Fremont Manor, built in 1837, at the corner. Then up and over a hill to Fremont Pond. Poetry in the Pavement. Eleven poems are embedded in this curvy, new sidewalk including ones by Walt Whitman, Langston Hughes, Pablo Neruda, and Emily Dickinson, plus seven local poets. Enjoy sweeping views, plenty of benches, and the historic Philipse Manor Railroad Station and Writers Center. Drive south on Route 9 past the soccer field on the right, take a slight right turn onto Bellwood Avenue, then right on Hunter or Farrington and continue all the way down to the sidewalk on Riverside Drive. The Wishing Wall. This temporary mural, created in the midst of the pandemic, is well worth a visit. Drive all the way down Beekman Avenue, go three quarters of the way around the traffic circle onto River Road, continue to Horan’s Landing and park. It’s about a half-mile walk by the river to get to the Wishing Wall and the Sleepy Hollow lighthouse, built in 1883.
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Bay Shore Memories Bill Lyons All for One In Bay Shore, from age zero through 3 or so, it seemed that all life was all about me! Mom did everything she could for me, all day long. Dad, too, when he came in from the lumberyard. He built a wood box to hold my toys – 2-inch square wood blocks with letters & numbers on them, a ball and a small metal truck I could sit on to ride. Plus a colorful pail and shovel. I also had a little red three-wheeler bike, delicious food served regularly. And no expenses. Mrs. Levy and the Freshly Laid Egg Down the railroad tracks from our lumberyard was the Feed Mill and home of our good neighbors, Dan and Ruth Levy. The Levys’ house was about 100 yards from ours. Mrs. Levy had a chicken coop in her backyard. Mornings before breakfast, Mom would open our kitchen door, bang on a pot, and—magically—Mrs. Levy would open her kitchen door and wave a newly laid fresh egg at Mom. My job was to get that egg back to Mom. I was 2-plus. I was to walk the 50 yards to Mrs. Levy, she would put the still-warm egg in my cupped hands, and – very carefully, step by small step, walk that egg back to Mom without breaking it. I’d tried so hard to do it right. Mom and Mrs. Levy would call encouragements both ways. When I reached Mom and gave her the egg, she’d yell, “He did it! Thanks, Ruth!” Then into the kitchen where Mom and Dad would praise my effort, the boiling pot was waiting, and I’d get a fresh, soft-boiled egg to eat, sunk into pieces of buttered toast –mmm! A success, good food and love. My first-ever responsibility: I never broke an egg. Since then, literally and figuratively, several. The “Budgeebah” In one of my baby bathtub sessions I must have sounded out a gibberish word for the little rubber drain stopper. It was “Budgeebah” (emphasis on the first syllable: (BUD-gee-bah). Mom must have repeated it back to me — one of the first times I tried to make a word. When I gurgled “Budgebah! Budgebah!” there must have been approving laughter from Mom. But I’m not sure. Whatever way it happened, I became conditioned to say that looney word for the rubber drain stopper. Dad said it, too, and as I grew up we three continued to refer to a drain stopper as a Budgeebah – for any sink drain stopper. Continued through my teens. And at 18 I enlisted in the Air Corps. Fast forward 16 years to 1943: I’m an Aviation Cadet at Primary Flight School in Union City, Tennessee. We’re in a big barrack latrine with a lineup of about a dozen sinks along the wall. Next to me at his sink is Cadet ‘Big Ed’ Kasparak. I see there’s no drain stopper in my sink. 5
I say, “Ed, lend me your Budgeebah?” “My what . . . ?” “The BUDgeebah . . . ” Ed (confused) “Sure, Bill . . . what. . . ?” I impatiently take the stopper out o f his sink. “Thank you!” Ed understands. He grabs the stopper back from me — waves it high for others to see. He yells, “HEY, LYONS WANTS HIS BUHHHD-GEE-BAHHH”! Cadets come over laughing. I try to grab it back, can’t. Ed holds it high, pointing at it, taunting, “LYONS WANTS HIS LITTLE BOOOODGEEEBAAAH . . .” You get the picture. My baby name for the sink stopper went through the Cadet squadron. That afternoon as we marched out to physical training, our Cadet Squadron Leader ordered the usual “Double time, MARCH!” But instead of sounding out the standard four-beat “HEP-2-3-4” in time to the fast cadence, he yelled, “BUD. . .GEE. . .BAH. . .HEY!. . .BUD. . .GEE. . .BAH. . .HEY!” The Squadron joined in. I could see smiles. It was good-natured joshing. I became known. Cadets would pass me and say, “How’s your Budgeebah?” or something similar. Or that began “Up your. . .” Fortunately, those that knew the story got fewer and fewer as our training progressed. By the time I got my wings the Budgebah joshing had petered out. Fortunately. Mr. Squires, the Drunkard, Saves my Life Around age 2-plus I came close to being killed. Mom had put me out in our backyard to play. It was a dirt yard enclosed by wooden boards, a continuation of our lumber yard fence. About 40 feet away were the Long Island Railroad commuter tracks. I somehow managed to squirm out between some boards, walked past old Mr. Squire’s shack next door, and onto the railroad tracks. Mr. Squires was an elderly drunkard. He lived alone. He’d sit on his back porch and drink and wave to the LIRR engineers as their trains came by, and they’d whistle back. This day Mr. Squires couldn’t believe his eyes: there was a little kid walking on the tracks! He ran out and grabbed me off the tracks literally within moments of a commuter train bearing down on me. I remember him holding me and running and shouting “Miz Lyons! Miz Lyons!”… until he handed me over to Mom. Oh, what a joyful fuss Mom made, hugging me and crying and laughing with Mr. Squires. After that she gave him half of any apple pies she baked and brought over many of our meals to him. For years Mom told of his bravery, breathing heavily, virtually reliving it. Mr. Squires was weak-willed when it came to whisky. He smelled of it. But he had courage when it counted. I owe him my life. We moved away before I was old enough to appreciate what he did. He’s one of the special nonrelatives who came through for me that I never thanked personally, eye to eye. Almost all are gone. I close my eyes and in my mind hold them with gratitude. continued on page 8 6
The Bootlegger and Aunt Carolena Jim Wood One very exciting event took place on our farm on a foggy and stormy night in the very early 1930s, when I was a mere five or six years old. My Aunt Carolena, who was living in the stone house on the farm at the time, heard the sound of an airplane engine overhead. A short while later, there was a knock on her front door. Answering the door, she encountered a gentleman who asked to use her telephone. “Oh, my dear man, come on in. What is the problem,” she asked? The man explained, “My airplane crashed in the field behind your barns.” He was very fortunate to have crashed into the soft earth in the ground behind the chicken house, exactly where the stump of an old apple tree recently had been removed. Aunt Carolena said to him, “Well, come on in and have some soup. You really should stay the night and attend to your business in the morning.” “No, please just let me use your phone. I’ll attend to this and be out of your way as quickly as possible.” He then did call his friend on Aunt Carolena’s old wooden crank telephone. She continued to insist that he stay the night, while he continued to demur and wait for his friend to arrive. That evening, the friend arrived with a truck, and the two men removed the plane’s cargo and quickly departed. Early the next morning, my Aunt eagerly telephoned my father to tell him all about the exciting incident. My father, upon hearing the story, burst out laughing. She asked him what he found so funny. As this was during the time of Prohibition, my father was amused to inform his sister that she, president of the local chapter of the WCTU (Women’s Christian Temperance Union), had aided and abetted a bootlegger! For, as it turned out, the pilot had been flying a plane full of whiskey across the border from Canada. While my father thought it was the funniest thing that had ever happened, she was horrified. But she quickly came to understand why the pilot had been in such a hurry to reach his friend and unload the contraband from his plane! As it was a number of days before the plane was dismantled and removed, I had a marvelous time as a small boy climbing in and all over it. A home movie was taken of my escapades, but it is now very well worn after having been shown so many times. Bottoms Up
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That Was the Summer … by Edith Litt At age 13, I learned to drink. Daiquiris. Killy (Mary Caroline) was the nicest kid in my school, maybe the nicest person I ever met. Not brilliant. Not beautiful. Just thoroughly 100 percent nice. So when she invited me to spend a month at her family’s farm in a tiny Pennsylvania hamlet, I jumped at the chance and my family agreed. I was thirteen, Killy two or three years older (I had skipped some grades). At the farm, on a typical day, she and I dug ditches all morning, rerouting a troublesome stream. We ate lunch outdoors, dirty and smelly as we were. Her family had horses, loved to ride. So in the afternoons, we mucked out the stables, curried the horses, and then exercised them. I learned to jump that summer. At the end of the day, we showered, changed into dresses, and joined her parents in their living room. The family home had been built by Killy’s ancestors before the Revolution, and they had made the furniture. All plain and honest, good Quaker-values kind of stuff. Nothing soft and squishy. Killy and I would sit in front of the fire with her parents, discussing the news of the day, the books we were reading. And sip our daiquiris. So at thirteen I learned that after a hard day’s work, a drink was a wonderful way to wind down. And think. And hold a serious discussion. Work the mind, relax the body. Drinking was not for getting drunk, but for appreciating good friends, good people, good ideas and culture. What a concept! Maybe everyone should learn to drink that way. continued from page 6 Dad, Harpie and I Sleighing into Bay Shore Age 3. Winter 1927. A snowstorm. I remember Mom bundling me up like a papoose and Dad strapping me into blankets onto a sled hooked up by rope to Harpie’s body harness. Harpie and Roxy were watchdogs for the Lumber Yard — a big Airedale and a German Shepherd. Dad ran out into the road, yelling, “Here Harpie, here boy!” Harpie eagerly pulled the sled to go to Dad — with a happy me in it. Dad trotted ahead with Harpie running after him. We went that way all the way into downtown Bay Shore, Dad running and urging Harpie on, me laughing and yelling, and Harpie, jaws open and tongue hanging out, barking and pulling the sled. What fun! For all three of us! 8
Barging Through France Jerry Litner
She said, “Why don’t we get a pied-à-terre in Paris?”
He said, “There’s more of France to see than just Paris.”
She said, “Well, then, why don’t we get a barge and see it all?”
And next we see two late-aged New Yorkers in Amsterdam clambering over barges of various sizes and types. The idea was not as crazy as it sounds. We both had extensive yachting experience, mostly in the Caribbean. We had previously tasted life on the canals of France by one-week rentals of smaller canal boats. And Suzanne is fluent in French. But nothing in Amsterdam suited our vision of a perfect barge, so on to Belgium and then France. The ideal we were looking for was a converted Peniche, the big freight carriers on the canals and rivers of France. We worked our way south in France and finally, almost on the shores of the Mediterranean, we found “our” barge. She was virtually brand-new. The previous owner, an American, started with an old hull and had her completely rebuilt to American tastes and specs. So, what was this “dreamboat”? She was 75 feet long and 16 feet wide, a floating threebedroom apartment. The main salon had a fireplace at one end and at the other end was a cuisine americaine, complete with a big refrigerator and freezer, microwave, a dishwasher, and hot and cold running water. The aft cabin had its own shower and toilet and a Jacuzzi in one corner. Up forward of the salon were two bedrooms, each with a shower and toilet. In one of the cabins there was an access hatch to a crawl space, where we kept our wines at a perfect temperature … a floating “cave.”
Tons of Room
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Three quarters away back was the wheelhouse with the engine controls, bow-thruster switch, and a 3-foot-diameter steering wheel. Under the wheelhouse was the engine room. Our power came with a belch of smoke and menacing rumble from a Dutch diesel truck engine. There was a generator and a large bank of truck batteries. Driving this huge pile of steel was nothing like steering a “conventional” power boat on Long Island Sound! There are significant differences. First, the driver stands a good 50 feet from where the front of the boat wants to go. Then, the steering wheel takes 10 turns from “lock to lock.” No little wiggle of the wheel is going to have much of an effect. But to save ourselves from crashing from side to side there was the “bow thruster,” a small electric motor mounted crosswise under the water at the bow, operated with a small joystick at the helm.
Getting Launched
The seller was nice enough to stay with us for a week to give us a “shakedown” cruise up the Canal du Midi toward Bordeaux. But there was only so long he could hold our hands and we found ourselves moored and alone in the small city of Agen. After two days of angst, we got up the courage to leave the dock and make circles in a wide spot off the port. Finally we ventured onto the canal for a trial run. The first test of our skill was crossing over a valley on a viaduct, a channel of water on a bridge over a 100-foot drop to a valley floor. The viaduct was just wide enough for our boat, but to our inexperienced eyes it seemed not wide enough. A sloppy bit of steering would take us over the edge.
Ha! we made it.
Pressing onward, we soon came to our next challenge . . . locks. The French waterways are a web of 3,500 kilometers of rivers and canals. To accommodate changes in the elevation the canals have locks. The idea of a lock is pretty simple: A boat enters a concrete chamber, doors are shut at both ends and the water in the chamber is added or subtracted to raise or lower the boat to the level of the next stretch of canal. The problem for us was that the lock openings were 5 meters wide and our 45 tons of steel barge was 4.5 meters wide! So, the captain (me) is at the wheel in the middle of the boat 50 feet away from the bow. It is up to the crew (aka Suzanne) to sight along the length of the boat to the lock entrance and advise the captain with warm, encouraging shouts, such as, ”No, no. You are going to hit . . .Go left . . .quickly . . . no, no too far . . . slow down . . . I said go left! . . . STOP!” . . . until th e barge is safely in the lock chamber. And then it is up to the crew to clamber ashore with a stout rope and tie the barge up. One other key job for the crew was to open or close the door of the lock. The modernized locks have a variety of ways to operate the doors, button, switch, and even radar. But the older locks have gigantic levers which require a strong hand and some grunting. 10
Most of the French waterways run through rural areas, although from time to time you get on real rivers which take you through cities like Toulouse and Lyon. (Just about every large city is on a river of sorts). Cities offer amenities such as docking, but on your floating home you are pretty much self-contained. At night if there are no convenient docks, you just pull over to a bank, have someone (read that as CREW) leap ashore, and hammer a stake into the ground to create a secure moorage.
Dog Gone
As we were traveling with our 75-lb. boxer, Luca, it was pretty much a necessity to find a nice mooring for the night so that he could get ashore and do whatever he had to do. He quickly became acclimated to the daily cycle of life afloat. One memorable occasion: We were traveling with a French couple (on their boat) and we decided to stop for lunch at a small restaurant alongside the canal. We secured both boats to the bank and, leaving Luca on board, crossed over the canal, to lunch, confident that the distance to the shore was too great for Luca to make the leap. But Luca had other ideas. As we settled down to lunch in walked Luca. He had made the leap to shore, made it over the narrow bridge over the canal, and walked into the restaurant. The restaurant owner then did what you would expect of him . . . he filled a bowl with water and set it down for Luca! Such was life in rural France. Travel on the canals comes to a halt in winter as the locks can freeze. The bargees often lay the boats up somewhere and go home for the winter, as we did for three winters. Or they find a good winter mooring. Our winter mooring for our last two wonderful years was PARIS! The best winter hole in Paris was the marina at Arsenal. Since it is by far the best, reservations are hard to come by. But here is one good reason to have a charming Frenchspeaking crew. For two years, every time we were in Paris, Suzanne would go by the office of the administration of Arsenal and plead our case for a place to tie up for the winter. Finally they succumbed to her charms and we had our winter home. So, there we were in a three-bedroom apartment at the foot of Place de la Bastille. Step off the barge, go up a short flight of stairs, and “Eh voila! ” we were in the heart of Paris at the new Bastille opera house.
It doesn’t get much better than that . . .
Still, after five years we sold the barge and came back to a home in rural Connecticut.
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“Demography is Destiny” Llyn Clague “Demography is destiny” may not suggest the moral clarity of the Greek philosopher Heraclitus’ “character is destiny,” but it does have a sliver of truth in a popular democracy when the decennial census can alter the voting power of states and the outcomes of elections. And who better to help us understand that core fact than an expert demographer? Joseph J. Salvo (see box) served as Chief Demographer of New York City for almost 30 years. He spoke at Kendal last year on the subject, during the 2020 election, of adding a question on citizenship to the 2020 Census, which many people feared would depress responses to the survey. Here he shares his thoughts about immigration and its impact on the city and beyond. His perspective is informed both by the most current data and by the long sweep of history, going back to our American beginnings. The bad news, of course, is that New York State lost a Congressional seat in the 2020 census (by the slimmest of margins: just 89 people), despite the fact that New York’s population, which had been expected to decline, actually rose 4.2 percent (but less than the 7.4 percent increase for the U.S. as a whole). The loss of the seat will be a significant financial and political blow to the state and the city. The good news is, coming out of the pandemic, Joe foresees a strong rebound in New York’s industries hardest hit: hotels, restaurants, entertainment, the arts. The businesses and institutions that survived the pandemic will, in all likelihood, flourish. And will get muchneeded support from immigrants, who will fill many of the jobs. In Joe’s view, immigration is a – if not the – crucial factor influencing the present and future of New York, and by extension the evolution of Westchester and the country as a whole. In the larger picture, New York has always been a city of immigrants. Even during the Great Depression of the 1930s and the stagnant decade of the 1970s, when the city fell on hard times, immigrants benefited the city substantially. Italians, Southern Europeans, Eastern Europeans, Jews, Latinos, Caribbean people – each group, in their heyday immigration-wise and beyond – contributed to the building of New York. Collectively they took New York “from city to metropolis”: laid the water mains, built the subways, constructed the ports. Immigration has always been a challenge, but has also always been a net benefit to the city. Even in the 1970s, when New York was broke and in decline, it took in about 800,000 immigrants, while about 2 million people left the city to go elsewhere in the U.S., especially to the suburbs. However bad the city looked to Americans, to those immigrants it looked better than where they had lived. In the 1980s and 1990s immigration expanded. America’s immigration laws, which had been in place since the 1920s, now gave preference to family connections and allowed more immigration based on skills and needed labor. In those decades immigration rose to about one million a year nationally, which continued until about a decade ago. 12
After the Great Recession of 2007-2009 there was considerable addition to the housing stock in New York and between the years 2011-13 population grew by 1-percent a year. Then in mid-decade, after the 2016 election, both legislation (the Trump bans and other restrictions) and an overall atmosphere of hostility toward foreigners led to a sharp decline of 46 percent. Overall, from 2010 to 2020, New York City gained about 77,000 residents, just under a one-percent increase in population, according to the latest estimates; however that masked a drop from the peak in 2016 of 8.47 million residents to 8.25 million in 2020. But, the gold standard remains the decennial census and those results will be issued for New York City in August of this year. The ongoing importance of immigration is emphasized by the fact that 52 percent of births in New York City are to foreign-born women – and the number is over 40 percent for Westchester. Westchester, in fact, is a microcosm of New York. Immigration supports and benefits the county and individual towns like Sleepy Hollow much as it does the city. There are significant clusters of immigrants in Yonkers, Port Chester, Tarrytown, Sleepy Hollow, etc. In the entire 31-county metropolitan area, 25 percent of the population is foreign-born. In Sleepy Hollow alone, an estimate for 2019 put the percentage of the Hispanic-Latino population at 47.7, up from 25.5 percent in 2010. The concern that adding a citizenship question to the 2020 census form would seriously reduce the return of those forms, thus possibly understating the size of minority populations in the census, seems not to have been borne out. The response rate for the U.S. as a whole was right around 67 percent in 2020, as in the two previous censuses of 2010 and 2000. For Westchester as a whole the comparable numbers are around 68 percent; for Sleepy Hollow there was a 3 percent decline in 2020. As in America’s 400-year history, we have thrived through immigration, and with the challenges we face in the future – aging, declining birthrate, declining native labor force participation – we will need, and benefit from, waves of immigrants, as we in the past. Joe Salvo was Chief Demographer in the New York City Department of City Planning from October 1993 to April 1, 2021. He earned his PhD at Fordham University, where Kendal resident Alice Clague was a colleague and friend. Kendalites Joe and Sally Costa are also longtime friends of Joe and his wife Roe. In “retirement” he is hardly less busy than he was while employed. He now works with the National Conference on Citizenship, a nonpartisan, nonprofit organization dedicated to increasing civic participation throughout the nation, and is working on an evaluation of the 2020 Census on behalf of the American Statistical Association. On the nonprofessional side, he is looking forward to spending more time pursuing amateur ham radio, having been licensed since he was 17 years old.
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Coming of Age in Sweden Peter Seldin The phrase “Coming of Age” typically refers to someone in their teens growing up and maturing. In my case it happened unexpectedly one summer in Sweden when I was just 16 years old. I had joined the Experiment in International Living, a group that placed American high school and college students for the summer with families in other nations. About a dozen of us were assigned to families in Sollefteå, a small rural town in eastern Sweden near the Baltic Sea. Early one morning we met at the Stockholm train station. The trip to Sollefteå took about six hours and we arrived at the small train station in the early afternoon. The platform was crowded with families who had volunteered to host an American visitor for the summer. One by one, they connected with their assigned “son” or “daughter” and left the station. Eventually, there was only one person left on the now barren platform. That was me. For the next twenty or thirty minutes, I stood there, feeling abandoned and frightened. Why was no one there to meet me? When the organizer of volunteer families came to the station, she said the family that originally agreed to host me had decided to get a divorce. But the good news was that another family just that morning said they would host me at their summer home far to the north. She added that they would pick me up in morning. Meantime, I would stay in her house. Early the following day, my new host family arrived. Their Volvo sedan was jam packed with two adults, three children, and an enormous amount of food and supplies. There was not much room for me. I wiggled into the vehicle and sat between Inga (age 15) and Elsa (12.) Their six-year-old brother (Liam) was curled up asleep on the floor. Neither the children nor their parents spoke much English, and I spoke no more than 25 words of Swedish. Communication over the six hours’ ride was minimal, largely smiles and sign language. Finally, after a long drive up the eastern coast of Sweden, we arrived at our destination. It was a tiny town composed of a cluster of modest houses, a fish-processing company, and one small general store, similar to a 7-11. We unloaded the car and transferred everything to a large motor boat which transported us to their summer home on a very small island in the archipelago of the Baltic. The island was essentially one very large rock. It had scrub brush but no trees and was about three acres in circumference. The family home was the only one there. It had no electricity and no running water. It had no bathroom or outhouse. It did have a single-burner propane “stove.” 14
After we unloaded the boat and unpacked, they gave me a tour of the house and the island. Given the very small size of each, it took no more than three minutes! Then they showed me both my cot in the bedroom I would share with Liam, the six-year-old, and the fishing nets we would use several times each day to catch the Stromming fish that would comprise most of our meals. One day ran into another. Every morning we had a 30 minute language class. I tried to teach them English. They tried to teach me Swedish. Twice a day, we took the motor boat into the Baltic Sea, spread out the nets behind the boat, and trolled for fish. They were plentiful and, not surprisingly, we ate what we caught. Linnea, the wife of Oscar, was remarkably skillful in preparing the Stromming fish in a variety of tasty ways. Her husband, Oscar, was a high ranking naval officer. Every morning he raised his binoculars and spent a few minutes scanning the horizon looking for Russian submarines. He never found any. Liam passed the time skimming rocks into the water and building nondescript stone groupings with me. Elsa (12) spent most of her day in her room reading trashy magazines. Inga (15), an especially well-endowed young woman who was closest to my age, devoted much of her time to topless sunbathing. To my teenage eyes, this was a daily highlight! When I wasn’t staring at her, I was reading the only book I had brought, Kon-Tiki. Over the six weeks, I probably read that book ten times. When I reflect on my summer in Sweden, I’m struck by how impactful it was in shaping who I became. To a large degree, the circumstances forced me to became more flexible, self-reliant, able to adapt well to new, and unanticipated situations. Those outcomes would be expected. But some others were more subtle. Three examples: First, I developed a deep interest in other cultures. And since my work has taken me to countries as disparate as New Zealand and Egypt, Finland and Indonesia, I’ve been able to learn firsthand about the attitudes, values, and beliefs of the people who live there. Second, because I didn’t speak Swedish, to communicate even on a superficial level, it was necessary that I learn how to pick up nonverbal cues and read body language. That has served me well in my work teaching university faculty and senior officials who work for the State Department in different countries. Third, I’ve developed a longterm stoicism. Spending the summer on a very small island in the far north of Sweden, in a house with no running water or electricity, and with a family that spoke virtually no English, certainly would not have been my first choice. But my Swedish “family” stepped in as a last-minute substitute. My gratitude to them far outweighed the isolation and spartan living arrangements. 15
Authentic Native Cuisine Llyn Clague In mid-summer 2021, as we gradually emerge from the constrictions of Covid-19, we gratefully anticipate freely dining out with friends. In an ethnic restaurant we look for “authentic” dishes and ambiance. My wife Alice and I had one such experience – in a tiny village, in Mali, almost 20 years ago. Put yourself in the scene: whenever you travel, or even at home, in an ethnic restaurant you want the real thing – the genuine alien. We sit in a circle with Dramane and his friends. Women place large bowls of food on the floor, then retire after bringing a small green pail of water, which is passed around for rinsing your hands and shaking the water on the floor. Dramane lifts a clay lid – millet couscous. Onto it he ladles a deep brown sauce. You reach into the common bowl with your fingers (right hand only!) – no plate, no utensil, no individual serving – you cradle a handful of grains drenched in greasy sauce (“hot! hot!” – one man waves a fan over the pot like a slave cooling a potentate) and you slope the glop to your yap and redip as grains and gravy wriggle between your fingers, slither down your wrist, and drop onto your shirt, shorts, sandals and toes. 16
The pail now perhaps no greener than you is passed afterward and you wash one-handed or spread grains and grease to your other hand and smile broadly and say yup, how unforeseen the native cuisine. As you leave you notice, on the floor, strewn around your chair dozens of grains of gravy-ed couscous – notice how spotless the areas where the Malians sat.
BETTY AMICO 914-962-5475 914-962-5475 Seniors Transition Transition Services, Seniors LLC Seniors Services, LLC LLC friend4619@yahoo.com strans1@gmail.com srtrans1@gmail.com Reduce the Stress of Downsizing
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Dentistry, as with other health services, is rapidly changing. Technology is constantly improving, allowing us to deliver quality care in less time and with less stress. Most importantly though, dentistry is still an art as well as a science. As a health service, the patient care is provided not only by the doctor, but by the entire office staff. Dentistry as a health service means properly placed restorations and courteously answered phones. Rapidly changing technology will not change this philosophy of service.
Kevin Jong, DMD & Peter Zegarelli, DDS
87 North Broadway • Tarrytown, NY 10591 • 914-631-1800 Website: www.drzegarelli.com • Email: info@drzegarelli.com The Zegarelli dental office has been located in Tarrytown since 1982. We have been serving KoH residents since the Kendal opening day in 2005.
Ninety-One North Broadway Tarrytown, NY 10591 (914) 631-0983 www.coffeyfuneralhome.com NANCY COFFEY • MICHAEL COFFEY A Family-Operated Business Serving Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow Since 1911 Pre-Planning Available 18
BOSTICK, MURPHY & COMPANY CERTIFIED PUBLIC ACCOUNTANTS P.C. Individual, Business, Trust and Estate Tax consulting, planning and return preparation We will meet at your home, office or at our location in Mount Kisco William G. Bostick, CPA, CVA Patricia A. Murphy, CPA, CVA, CFP, CHFC, PFS, CGMA 113 SMITH AVE. MT. KISCO, NY 10549 (914) 666-6336 (914) 666-0396 fax pmurphycpa@aol.com
FYO Accounting & Tax Services
914-631-8868 Keeping the Kendal community mobile with one-stop auto repair services
Mickey Keegan, Owner mickey@mickeys-automotive.com
WE SERVICE ALL CARS
In-home service Tax Preparation & Planning Bookkeeping Filing & Organizing • Bill Paying • • • •
Owner: Jean Mayer, EA
Serving residents at Kendal on Hudson since its opening. 914-862-2305
jeanmayertax@gmail.com
FRONT END SPECIALISTS · TIRES WEEL ALIGNMENT & BALANCE EXHAUST REPAIR · HEAT/AC COOLANT · BRAKES · AND MORE!
25% discount to Kendal residents.
Free Pick-Up and Delivery for All Kendal Residents www.mickeys-automotive.com
Off-Season Tax Special: Provide your prior year tax returns and receive a free review, consultation, and fee quote. No obligation. 19
Vitality
Your partner in health & wellness Vitality at Phelps Hospital Northwell Health offers free educational and fun health-related programs and events, as well as support groups, to help you stay active and engaged as you age. Stay connected to your health and wellness, while having fun with your peers - offered right in your backyard at Phelps! Programs include the Breakfast Club, fall prevention programs, osteoporosis education, holistic pain support, memory care & more.
For more information about Vitality programs and events, please call Ellen at (914) 366-3937 or email vitality@northwell.edu.
701 N. Broadway, Sleepy Hollow, NY 10591 (914) 366-3000 | www.phelps.northwell.edu
life
I N TR AN SI T ION Wealth management, tax and legacy planning strategies for anyone who may benefit from professional guidance after retirement, loss of a spouse, divorce or employment change.
Let our team help! Call us at 914-762-4760 or visit www.hudsonfs.com. Hudson Financial Services, Inc. 1249 Pleasantville Road, Briarcliff Manor, NY 10510 Securities and investment advisory services offered through Cetera Advisor Networks LLC, member FINRA/SIPC, a broker/dealer & Registered Investment Adviser. Cetera is under separate ownership from any other named entity. Neither Cetera Advisor Networks LLC nor its representatives offer tax or legal advice. Please consult your attorney or tax advisor for guidance.
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Your Great Expectations... Can Be Filled.
GRAPE EXPECTATIONS
Wine and Liquor Merchant A few doors from C Town. Free parking in the back away from traffic. Knowledgeable and friendly staff will answer questions and help you select from the largest and most unique display in the Rivertowns. ❖ Competitive pricing and discounts. ❖ I look forward to having you join our many Kendal customers. John Sarofeen, Proprietor
Tel. 914-332-0294
92 N. Broadway, Tarrytown, NY
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Westchester’s Finest Clockmaker since 1951
Harnik Bros. J E W E L E R S
Enrico Hair Care, Inc. Enrico Hair Care, Inc. Wednesday Mondays Kim does hair color/cut and styling Enrico cuts and styles and Tatiana consults on color Friday Wednesdays Toni and Andi do hair Hairstylingcolor/cut by Kim and styling Wednesdays through Fridays Maria Saturday does manicures Thursday and Fridays Enrico does hair color/cut and styling Hairstyling by Toni Fridays Christina does pedicures, manicures and hair.
Call Callfor for appointments appointments 523-6382 922-1057 523-6382 or or 922-1057
Visit Our Showroom
Free Prescription Delivery Hospital Beds - Lift Chairs – Scooters - Power Wheelchairs Manual Wheelchairs Incontinence Supplies - Walking Devices - Respiratory Supplies
40 Spring Street Ossining, NY 10562 914-941-4476 Ext 2 www.hudsonsurgical.com
SALES, RENTALS, AND REPAIRS FOR ANY MEDICAL EQUIPMENT! 22
Specializing in
Watch Repair • Clock Repair Jewelry Repair & Remodeling Battery and Band Replacements Tall Case • Ships • Atmos • Carriages
Museum Quality Restoration Since 1951
All Work Done On Premises Free Estimates Pick Up & Delivery
914.631.3224
Harnik Bros. Jewelers 6 North Broadway, Tarrytown, NY 10591
Being honored for giving excellent patient care is the best recognition a hospital can get. ®
Free 1-Hour, In-Home Consultation!
The American Heart and American Stroke Associations awarded Phelps Hospital • “GOLD PLUS” for the 10th year in a row • Honor Roll Elite for providing the latest evidence-based treatment for best patient care and outcomes. phelps.northwell.edu (914) 366-3000
Sleepy Hollow Cemetery Nonprofit, Nonsectarian. Established 1849
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Community mausoleum, traditional in-ground burials, natural burial grounds, private family mausoleums. 540 North Broadway ◆ Sleepy Hollow, NY 10591 914-631-0081 ◆ www.sleepyhollowcemetery.org
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our services
• ADL Assistance • Toilet Assistance • Medication Reminders • Medical Care • PT, OT, ST • Housekeeping • Nutrition Planning and Meal Prep
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• Social Worker • Wound Care • Chronic Disease Management • Outings and Errand Assitance • Companion Care • Home Safety Evaluation • Mobility Assistance • Memory Care