In a David vs. Goliath victory over politics and Uncle Sam, car dealer Bill Schneck broughtChevroletHulsizer back fromforcedgovernmentclosure because he could sell cars
Live King George Rock Solid Business Sweet Meats
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The Last Great Place
By Michael Capuzzo
Mountain Home celebrates its Keystone winners! 8
Mountain Chatter
By Nicole Hagan
A bachelor keeps cooking and spring makes perfect bike riding weather.
13
Heart of the Mountain
By Patricia Brown Davis
After going missing for forty-five years a childhood treasure is once again found.
16
Row Your Boat
By Steve Hainsworth
With his wife and in-laws aboard, our new writer takes on the Susquehanna. 18
Reading Nature
By Tom Murphy
Our columnist explores his local forest with help from The Sibley Guide to Trees
The Community King
By Dawn Bilder
After a life of community work , George C. Williams’ generosity continues on after him. 22 The Better World
By John & Lynne Diamond-Nigh
A true craftsman is someone who can make the spirit of their materials live on in their work.
Back in Business
By Matt Connor
After 110 years and a neardeath experience Hulsizer Chevrolet soldiers on.
Camera Man
By Angela Cannon-Crothers
Doug McFarland photographs the outdoor life through a unique color pallete.
No Wool Over Your Eyes
By Jennifer Cline
It’s no lie that concrete has never looked better since the opening of Wool’s Decorative Concrete in 2006.
Top: Hulsizer owner Bill Schneck and his inventory. Middle: Doug McFarland’s Forest Cathedral Hike taken in Cook Forest, Pennsylvania. Bottom: Concrete heroes at Wool’s Decorative Concrete. Cover art by Tucker Worthington. Photography by James Fitzpatrick.
Farm, Sweet, Farm
By Angela Cannon-Crothers
Tucked in the hills of Italy Valley, New York, Sweet Grass Meats makes fresh farm-raised meats a priority.
30
Read & Feed
By Neil O’Donnell
Ciao take-out! Say goodbye to fast food and hello to wonderful Italian dishes from Marcella Hazan.
34
Someplace Like Home
By Dave Milano
Our writer marvels at the ever-changing beauty of Pennsylvania landscape.
36
O’Shaughnessy Antiques and Fine Arts
By Roberta McCulloch-Dews
The antique eyes are smiling at O’Shaughnessy’s where decades of treasures are waiting to be explored.
42
Back of the Mountain
A Teddy Bear Picnic
P ublisher
Michael Capuzzo
e ditor - in - C hief
Teresa Banik Capuzzo
A sso C i A te P ublisher
George Bochetto, Esq.
M A n A ging e ditor
Kay Barrett
C o P y e ditors
Mary Nance, Kathleen Torpy
s t A ff W riter
Dawn Bilder
i ntern
Nicole Hagan
C over A rtist
Tucker Worthington
P r odu C tio n M A n A ger / g r AP hi C d esigner
Amanda Doan-Butler
C ontri buting W riters
Kay Barrett, Dawn Bilder, Sarah Bull, Angela Cannon-Crothers, Jennifer Cline, Matt Connor, Barbara Coyle, John & Lynne Diamond-Nigh, Patricia Brown Davis, Steve Hainsworth, Martha Horton, Holly Howell, Rob Lane, Roberta McCulloch-Dews, Cindy Davis Meixel, Fred Metarko, Karen Meyers, Dave Milano, Tom Murphy, Mary Myers, Jim Obleski, Cornelius O’Donnell, Audrey Patterson, Gary Ranck, Kathleen Thompson, Joyce M. Tice, Linda Williams
P hotogr AP hy James Fitzpatrick, Ann Kamzelski
s A les r e P resent A tives
Christopher Banik, Michele Duffy, John White
A CC ounting
Zachery Redell
b e A gle
Cosmo
Mountain Home is published monthly by Beagle Media LLC, 39 Water St., Wellsboro, Pennsylvania, 16901. Copyright 2009 Beagle Media LLC. All rights reserved.
To advertise, subscribe or provide story ideas phone 570-724-3838 or e-mail info@mountainhomemag.com. Each month copies of Mountain Home are available for free at hundreds of locations in Tioga, Potter, Bradford, Lycoming, Union, Clinton, Wyoming, and Sullivan counties in Pennsylvania; Steuben, Chemung, and Schuyler counties in New York.
Visit us at www.mountainhomemag.com.
Get Mountain Home at home. For a one-year subscription to Mountain Home (12 issues), send $24.95, payable to Beagle Media LLC, to 39 Water St., Wellsboro, PA 16901.
LOOK FOR Mountain Home Real Estate Guide wherever Mountain Home magazine is found.
The Last Great Place Our Artist Wins The Gold Michael Capuzzo
Amoment can change your life. Here are two of them:
A slim, white-haired man moving with the wild energy of swoosh jumped onto the porch at 39 Water Street in Wellsboro, and shook our hands with a jolting force that felt more like zzzzzpt. Thus we were first hit by the electro-magnetic wave that calls itself Tucker Worthington, the 72-year-old artist who designs all the Mountain Home covers.
A tall, dark-haired Irishman with a bard’s soul called from Lock Haven and said he’d read my book, Close to Shore , and wanted to write for Mountain Home . It didn’t take me long to realize that Matt Connor, like Tucker, could write for anyone ( Forbes magazine, among others), but was willing to lend Mountain Home his gifts because we all shared a vision, and a secret (see below), of what a story could be.
I’m proud to announce that Tucker, who designed this month’s cover, won a first place Keystone Award for the best front page design in the state for a sample of his work, including his February 2009 cover, “Feed My People,” on Westfield pastor Glen Schoonover’s call from God.
Matt, who wrote this month’s cover story on GM dealer Bill Schneck’s victory over Uncle Sam, has won two prestigious Keystone Awards from the Pennsylvania Newspaper Association for best feature and sports writing in the state— for his April 2009 cover story, “Declassified: Fish Tales,” on U.S. Presidents fishing locally, and for his May 2009 cover story, “Lost,” on Capt. Lawrence Ritter’s crashed World War II plane. (We’re all pulling for Matt, by the way, during his recent illness; the Lock Haven Express , where Matt works, is hosting a May 29th benefit. Check the Mountain Home Web site (www.mountainhomemag.com), Facebook, and Twitter sites for details to come.)
If you like David vs. Goliath stories such as this month’s
cover, you’ll like this one: Mountain Home writers, artists, and photographers won a total of seven Keystones this year, competing against the largest weekly newspapers in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and across the state.
Kudos to: Jeffrey Allen Federowicz, who won first place in business writing for his August 2009 cover story, “Rewind,” about drive-in theaters in the Susquehanna Valley, the same issue in which local photographer Ann Kamzelski won the photo story first place for “Oh, What a Tangled Web,” her vision of spiders. Fred Metarko, the “Lunker,” won first place for sports/outdoor column with his fishing tales, and our Finger Lakes writer Angela Cannon-Crothers, won an honorable mention in sports story for “Flossie and the Watkins Glen Grand Prix.”
Since Mountain Home became a glossy magazine last fall, we’re retiring from the competition against goliath newspaper corporations with a total of twentythree Keystone Awards for the state’s best journalism in our first four years. The secret, of course, is in plain sight: our readers’ love of old-fashioned storytelling and our writers’ and artists’ natural-born talents have pushed Mountain Home to grow to 100,000 readers while big chain newspapers from Elmira south shrink because they don’t know it. Got story, anyone?
Matt Connor
Fred Metarko
Angela Cannon-Crothers
Ann Kamzelski
Jeffrey Allen Federowicz Tucker Worthington
MOUNTAIN Ch ATTER
The Bachelor...Is Back
As anyone at Mountain Home can tell you—a writer’s work is never done. But for our former columnist, Terry Miller, his work has only just begun.
Terry, known as “The Cooking Bachelor” here at Mountain Home, will release his new book Cooking Bachelor Style on May 11. Much like his columns, his book serves up a series of “simple” recipes, each of which is paired with a pinch of anecdotal humor about the life of a bachelor. “It’s a book to sit down with after the dishes are done and forget about life,” says Terry, “all while getting lost in a little humor that everyone can relate to, especially when the protagonist is a lovable loser.”
“I’ve had such a great response to the articles [in Mountain Home] that a full-fledged book seemed like a natural,” says Terry. “Everyone loves the humor in it, and [with this book] I’m able to provide people with a reason to laugh. Lord knows we can use more of that in these trying times.”
Cooking Bachelor Style is published by Tate Publishing & Enterprises of Mustang, Oklahoma and can be purchased for $15.99 at cookingbachelorstyle.wordpress.com.
~ Nicole Hagan
I
Want to Ride My Bicycle
Although May has an entire schedule of mountain bike events, two in particular have set their gears to help benefit Pennsylvania communities.
The Cascade Classic Mountain Bike Race, which raises funds to buy bikes for local children, begins on Saturday, May 15 in Cascade, Pennsylvania. Sponsored by the Susquehanna Valley Velo Club, this year’s race is an eightmile loop of technical single-tracks, short power climbs, five rock wall crossings, and a new rolling section of winding single-track. Riders participate in one of five categories ranging from beginner to expert, with a children’s race scheduled for 10 a.m.
And for those looking for a longer challenge, the Trans-Sylvania Mountain Bike Epic—based out of State College— is another good-willed event that’s sure to get your adrenaline pumping. Proceeds of the seven-day stage race (scheduled May 30-June 5) will go towards The Outdoor Experience Organization, a non-profit organization that builds, improves, and promotes
forest trails in Pennsylvania. “We are excited to help raise funds to improve outdoor recreational opportunities, both for community health and for increased tourism,” says Mike Kuhn, director of the event. The courses here vary, ranging from the rocky, technical trails of RB Winter State Park to the
smooth, undulating trails around Raystown Lake.
For more information or to find out how to register, visit their Web sites: www.cascadeclassicmtbikerace.org and www.transsylvaniaepic.com.
~ Nicole Hagan
A biker navigates the Trans-Sylvania Mountain Bike Epic that winds it way through State College.
Back in Business
After 110 years and a near-death experience with Government Motors , Hulsizer Chevrolet soldiers on
By Matt Connor
We’ve all heard about the avid fan bases of rock stars and film personalities, some of whom field hundreds of fan letters a day asking for autographs or gushing over individual performances.
But it’s unheard of for a car dealership to have that kind of breathless popularity among its clientele. Well, almost unheard of. When it was announced that the Hulsizer Chevrolet dealership in Montgomery, Lycoming County was about to be closed down, hundreds of people responded in writing, pleading with dealership management to find a way to stay open and viable.
Hulsizer Chevrolet owner Bill Schneck was appreciative of his community’s support while his dealership faced termination.
“I received from my customers over 400 letters in the mail, totally unprompted, written totally on their own,” said Bill Schneck, the current owner of the business, which was founded by his great grandfather over a century ago. “Many of them pretty much told General Motors that if we were going to go, they were going to stop buying Chevys. I guess you can’t have more loyalty than that.”
What accounts for this extraordinary outpouring of affection for—of all things—an auto sales business?
“We’ve always done a good job for them, so they went to bat for us,” Schneck said.
It all started in 1910, when Schneck’s great-grandfather started the business as a blacksmith shop. Some of great-grandpa’s original blacksmithing equipment can still be found in a showroom display, demonstrating the family’s long-term interest in preserving its long history in the community.
“I vaguely remember my greatgrandfather,” said the 60-year-old Schneck. “I was only one or two years old when he passed, but the blacksmith shop went from 1900 to about 19111913, somewhere in there.”
Always an outpost for local transportation needs, the blacksmith
shop catered to horse and buggy travelers until the newfangled Ford tin lizzies started squeezing out the old four-legged modes of transport.
“After we were a blacksmith shop, first we were a Ford dealer,” Schneck said. “We sold Model As, Model Ts, Ford tractors, until the late teens or early 20s. From then on we became a Chevrolet dealer and have been that ever since.”
So what’s feel like to be part of a family business with such deep roots in the community?
“A lot of pressure to keep it going!” Schneck says with a laugh. “Not really, the pressure’s not been traumatic. We have a terrific following and have had for years. We do a good job for the people and it’s the people who have helped us survive how many wars? How many floods? How many recessions? They’re the ones that kept us going. I have customers here where I’m selling to the third and fourth generation.”
That truly remarkable record nearly came to a close last year, however, when the sudden, cataclysmic recession nearly rang the death knell on the auto industry.
In a high-profile move that was discussed in the media for weeks, General Motors, along with its big-
Top Left: Hulsizer Chevrolet was formerly a blacksmith shop in 1910. Bottom Left: In the early teens Hulsizer was a Ford dealer and sold such well-known vehicles as the Model A. Right: Schneck with the over 400 letters of support sent by customers, when the dealership was set to be terminated by GM.
heart of the Mountain Hidden Treasure
Patricia Brown Davis
Leaving my sister in the back yard, I flew into the house. “Mommy, look what I found!” Though five years old, I knew the coin must have value! It was a surprise finding it in the dirt. Though not proficient at reading, I recognized letters and numbers. Tarnished and old looking, it definitely said “treasure.” And it stopped us from finishing our mud pies.
Around 1943, we’d moved from Pennsylvania after Dad was transferred by Corning Glass to Rhode Island. We had no sandbox, so Ann and I enjoyed digging in the dirt. We’d spend hours mixing dirt and water and decorating our “pies” with small stones, pieces of wood, leaves, and flowers. We never expected to find a large mysterious coin.
a slaver, a sailor, or pirates come this way— only two miles from the Narragansett Bay?
When I was back in Pennsylvania, and 16 years old, it disappeared from my jewelry box. I remember asking my sister and my mother, if they’d seen it. “No,” were their answers. I had to accept it was gone as mysteriously as it’d appeared. Sometimes I’d remember it and think of those days of mud pies and finding, then losing my treasure.
Mom declared, “Don’t lose it; it might be valuable.” We went back to excavate more “valuables,” whatever that meant. We didn’t find any. It went into my jewelry box, remaining there for a decade.
The copper coin had a bust of King George III wearing a laurel wreath and toga, with: “Georgius III. D. G. Rex.” Its back boasted a crown, a spray of laurel leaves, and declared: “One Stiver.” The outer perimeter stated: “colonies of Essequebo & Demarary token, 1813”—a British Guiana coin for coastal colonies between Sarawak and Venezuela.
How did it get in our back yard under inches of dirt? Did
45 years later, in 1999, and executrix to Mom’s estate, while going through her jewelry box, I was stunned to see my coin there! I was shocked—first, to have it again—and secondly, to realize my mother had taken it years ago! Perhaps she was trying to protect it, but, every time she saw it, she had to remember taking it. Mom’s memory, was excellent to the end. Maybe she didn’t realize the “value” for me.
I don’t know her thoughts regarding the coin. I recall talking about it with her when I was at least 50. She never said anything about it. Finding it again was as mysterious as its first appearance.
I discovered the coin’s worth depended on “supply and demand.” with $300 the highest. For a time the value was in the finding of it. Then the value was in its monetary worth, and for a time the value was in keeping it as “treasure.” Apparently now, its value is in the telling of the story.
Patricia Brown Davis is a professional musician and memoirist seeking stories about the Wellsboro glass factory. Contact her at patd@mountainhomemag.com.
Above: The mudpie sisters, Ann and Pat Brown. Left: Our author’s treasure.
OU TDO O RS
Paddle in Hand
No better way to bond with the in-laws than canoeing down the Susquehanna
Photos & Story By Steve hainsworth
“Why is the cross on your riverbank, Lloyd?” asked Dave.
“Because, it’s God’s country,” replied Lloyd.
And now, as we paddle beneath a tall poplar tree with a bald eagle at it’s perch, the two men’s exchange from the previous day is easy to understand. The raptor lifts off with a winged swoop. Soaring downriver, he is joined by his mate who has observed our approach from a neighbouring tree. When the eagles fly out of sight, we continue our canoe cadence. Jared, my brother-in-law, is soloing a short fibreglass canoe. My wife, Melinda, and I tandem a larger ABS model. Our waterway, the 444-mile Susquehanna River, potentially could deliver us to the Atlantic’s Chesapeake Bay. Today’s goal, though, is to paddle from our start in Athens, Pennsylvania, to the take-out at Dave’s riverside outfitting shop in Sugar Run, Pennsylvania, twenty-six miles downstream.
The river flows lazily past cornfields and cottages at first. We’re paddling on what’s known as the Susquehanna River Water Trail, a stewardship project promoting environmental awareness, recreation, and conservation. We paddle past a pair of anglers who have taken up a position in a shady, far-shore eddy. Along our close shore, a Great Blue Heron scans the shallows. Moments after paddling past the heron and the anglers, a fish jumps near Jared’s bow. Perhaps he’s celebrating his successful avoidance of both the fishermen and the fish-eating bird.
“Go right!” calls Melinda from the bow. I pry my paddle against the canoe’s stern and pivot past the rocks she’s pointed out. These rapids didn’t look like much from our lunch break vantage point beneath the Ulster Bridge a half hour ago, so I continued to enjoy the shade and
sandwiches. Now I wish I had taken a second look. The river is wide enough here to expose shallow gravel bars. We dig hard to stay in the river’s main channel, but soon our paddles are pushing more riverbed than water. Melinda and I simultaneously cringe as our boat scrapes enough bottom to beach us. Like our canoe, we both sit frozen for a moment. But as quickly as the river had apprehended us, it releases us to deeper water. Downstream we catch up to Jared who has nimbly navigated past the shallows.
We regroup along the shady shoreline, and Jared and I trade seats. The switch allows him to rest his arms and gives me a chance to solo the responsive fibreglass canoe. I kneel behind the center thwart, rock the boat onto its side, and with a large sweeping reverse stroke join the river’s current again. We drift past another heron and below a red-tailed hawk, both of whom wonder what’s for lunch, no doubt. We hear songbirds chirp from the riverside reeds and spot a turtle sunning his shell on shore. A large slab of stone entices us to pull over. The stone is a great spot for us to sun ourselves and a great platform from which to jump into the cool river.
The James Street Bridge reveals itself as the river bends southward. We drift below the towering, modern overpass. Only a few minutes later, we paddle beneath a bridge from a different generation. Stone and steel hold together the Norfolk Southern Railroad crossing. We steer beneath its tracks and between its cobbled supports. The current intensifies from here and the town of Towanda swings into view. We ride the flow of a channel that closely parallels River Street. A flash of lightning and the repeated clap of thunder convince us to pull our boats ashore. Melinda phones to arrange for a pick up at a park beside the Towanda Bridge.
The weather ends our day short of our intended takeout at Dave’s Endless Mountain Outfitters in Sugar Run. Our early electric exit also means we won’t get downstream enough to see the cross on Lloyd’s riverbank property near Wyalusing, either. But the previous day’s conversation between Dave and Lloyd had already shown that cross in a new light. Dave’s question had unlocked the answer to a lifelong question Melinda and Jared always had for their Grandpa Lloyd. Unanimously, to those that live on the Susquehanna, this area is a heaven on earth.
Steve Hainsworth is a Whistler-based broadcaster married to an adventurous Pennsylvanian, Melinda Good. This is the dual citizen’s first contribution to Mountain Home.
Above: Steve Hainsworth’s brother-in-law Jared Good paddles steadly along the Susquehanna. Below: From his canoe, Hainsworth has a breathtaking view.
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IREADING NATURE
Tree Searching
Tom Murphy
t is so much easier to identify trees than to identify birds since trees don’t fly away as often. Not at all, actually. They stay right there while we try to figure out what they are and will patiently wait for as long as it takes. That trees don’t move much disguises just how much they change. Unless we look closely, deciduous trees tend to be “leaves” or “no leaves,” and the evergreens, well, they are just ever green.
examples of fruit, and a silhouette of a tree without leaves and one with leaves. Looking at these pages we see that the sugar maple is all these things because, like everything in nature, it is a story, a work in progress.
we’re open to the public! That means today and find out more!
www.fhfcu.org
I was exposed to the extent of my own ignorance a few years ago when I decided to watch the sugar maples around our house go from dormant to full leaf. Each step of the process—the swelling of the buds, their gradual elongation as they turn green and pink, the emergence of the flowers looking like small scourges, the leaves emerging as paint brushes, then hanging like folded bats until they flattened into the familiar maple leaves—each step was a big surprise. Where had I been?
One place I had been was without The Sibley Guide to Trees because more than any other guide I have seen, this one helps us see how dynamic trees are. Spread out on the two pages about sugar maples we see four green leaves, each one a slightly different shape, and three autumn leaves each one a slightly different shade. The pages show bark on young trees and bark on older trees, branches with buds and branches with flowers, winter branches with fruit stalks without fruit and
Even the relatively stable-looking pines are shown with immature green cones, mature cones, and cones splayed open after emptying their seeds. As with all the tree families, the pines are introduced with an illustrated analysis of their common characteristics and differences. While the needle clusters and cones and branches are drawn with realistic detail, the silhouettes of the pines and all the trees have a hint of abstraction so that the larger structure rather than the details stands out.
The book is beautiful to look at. Flipping through it, I would stop frequently, my eyes caught by the patterns of shape and color; the choice of how to arrange leaves and branches and flowers on the page always seems so apt. The design of the book reminds us that there is beauty in the trees; there is something in them that speaks to us with our branching blood vessels and nervous system and neural network. It’s good to know the trees.
Tom Murphy teaches nature writing at Mansfield University. You can contact him at readingnature@mountainhomemag.com.
Wellsboro
B ODY & S OUL
The House That George Built
Upon his death in 2007
George C. Williams gave life to an appreciative care facility
By Dawn Bilder
In 2007 ninety-one year-old George C. Williams died from congestive heart failure in his home in Wellsboro at the same time the Endless Mountain Music Festival was performing the second movement of Beethoven’s seventh symphony. His generosity in life—and also in death—has been as deep and poignant as the music playing when he passed.
Williams was in the Rotary Club and used his law degree to help local people in the agricultural community. He was largely responsible for bringing the Green Home to Wellsboro and served on the board of Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Hospital for twenty-four years. But his lasting contribution has been his home at 68 Waln Street. “I know,” says Williams’ son, Caleb, a Wellsboro resident and professional photographer, who lived with and cared for his dad for the last two years of his life, “that my dad considered his house his legacy.”
It was built in 1905 by Caleb’s great grandfather, George W. Williams, for five thousand dollars. For three generations it stayed in the family, but, when George C. Williams made his will, offering to bequeath it to his three children, they were all living in other places at the time and didn’t want it. He decided to leave it to the Laurel Health System.
Laurel Health turned the house into a Community Living Arrangement, which offers twenty-four-hour care in a residential setting for individuals with developmental disabilities. But renovations had to be made. Among other things, Laurel Health provided new heating and electrical systems, sidewalks, landscaping, and insulation. They painted, repaired the ceiling, added new lighting, refurnished floors and woodwork, updated the kitchen, and even turned the sunroom into a bedroom.
The generosity of George Williams and Laurel Health has paid off. Each resident has his or her own room, allowing for four residents. Five full-time staff members teach them about socialization, self administration of medication, banking, budgeting, menu planning, shopping, and meal preparation. The program’s goal is to enhance each resident’s daily living skills and to help facilitate their integration and participation in the community.
President and CEO of Laurel Health System, Ron Butler, has nothing but gratitude for the gift. “The house,” he says, “has made a
tremendously positive difference for its residents.”
When asked to describe his father, Caleb smiles. “Generous, of course,” he says. “And dapper—he dressed well. People were always asking him why he was dressed up, and he would joke, ‘What? This is the only outfit I own.’” After thinking some more, Caleb continues, “He was genuinely interested in people. He always wanted to hear what every person had to say no matter what social stratus they were from.”
In an interesting echo of what his father’s house would eventually become, Caleb spent 1995 to 2005 living at Camphill Villiage in Copake, New York, a community for people with developmental disabilities. Since at the time Caleb was a dairy farmer who made and sold his own cheese from the milk of the cows on his farm, he was invited to live at Camphill Villiage for a year to teach its residents how to make cheese from their small dairy farm.
“One year became ten,” Caleb smiles. “Six residents lived with me, my wife, and my daughter for years. It was all about inclusion, how we could structure life so their lives would be meaningful.” His smile grows to show that he’s aware of the same goal and gift that the Williams House offers. “That my dad’s house is now a group home has a strange kind of synchronicity, doesn’t it?” Strange, but good.
Top: George C. Williams, Caleb’s wiife Billie, and Caleb Williams on the day Caleb and Billie moved in to help Williams, who had congestive heart failure. Inset: The Williams House on Waln Street was left to the Laurel Health System in 2007.
IThe
Better World
The Wood Spirit
John & Lynne Diamond-Nigh
n the chapel of Mount Saviour Monastery on the outskirts of Elmira, there stands a small table of figured walnut, used during communion. It is the handiwork of the illustrious American woodworker, George Nakashima. The softly oiled, scarscribed surface seems to float as much on air as it does on the two legs of its base. As tables go, it’s a particular beauty.
We use that phrase in foreign policy--to come to the table, to bring two adversaries together to talk. I am always curious about those tables. Our Secretary of State sits across from her Russian or Chinese counterpart. What in the delicate calibrations of diplomacy determines exactly how wide the table should be that both separates but also unites them in the prospect of some accord? Once--long story—I actually sat for a minute or two at the round table of the UN Security Council.
“A tree has a spirit, he murmured. All trees must die, but perhaps my furniture can help that spirit live on.”
help that spirit live on. Goofy mysticism? No more so than this—that the canary-colored wreck my mother bought home, stripped, reglued and sanded smooth should become the circular core of our family for fifty years.
Ask yourself this: is America more like a family table or an island of poisonous rival tribes?
I believe in the ethics of furniture. You smile. The notion is far less odd in other parts of the world than it is here. The Arts and Crafts Movement, Gustav Stickley, Richard Neutra, Charles Eames: for them furniture had a moral purpose, of which the sofas and lamps in large commercial stores know nothing at all. Home has its ceremonies of loyalty, reproof, generosity and love; our furniture should be as worthy of them as an ornate gothic altar is of our marriage vows or a mahogany coffin is of our death.
Nakashima guided me down to his storeroom. Leaning against the walls were hundreds of vast, extravagant slabs of wood from all over the world. Trees I had never heard of. A tree has a spirit, he murmured. All trees must die, but perhaps my furniture can
As a kid, I lived one winter at a monastery in Greece. I remained until the spring festival of the patron saints. Crosses lurched, banners snapped, chants dissolved in the fierce Mediterranean wind as we trod in darkness around the monastery walls. After the morning service, I bade some monks adieu and slipped away. An hour down the road, a vehicle squiggled to a stop, a door flung open, arms drew me inside. Back at the monastery and before a large crowd feasting on chestnut soup and platters of octopus, I was sternly led to the head table where sat all manner of church and state dignitaries. A chair was empty beside the abbot. He frowned. left. Why? We were talking about American rock and roll.
The frown passed. His Christ-like eyes gleamed with curmudgeonly mirth.
John writes about art and design at serialboxx. blogspot.com. Lynne’s website, aciviltongue.com, is dedicated to civility studies.
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A RTS & L EISURE Looking Out My Back Door
Since his childhood Doug McFarland has captured outdoor beauty through a camera lens
By Angela Cannon-Crothers
“Ihave a real love for the deep woods,” says photographer
Doug McFarland. “I like trees, a trail that bends and disappears into the distance, gnarly roots; I like to have people feel they’re walking down the trail.” McFarland adds, “I shoot in the hopes that others can experience the beauty of the forest as I do.”
McFarland’s impressionist photography is shaped by natural forms, colored in the golds, creams, and brown tones he designed, and inspired by a passion for the earth.
McFarland considers himself an Appalachian boy, having spent his childhood in the Pennsylvania mountain regions in the 1950s around Johnstown and Altoona, with summers in Huntington. He grew up an only child in a one-bedroom house with his mother, a nurse, and his father, a WWII flier and pilot. “Rain or shine, hot or cold, I lived my free time in nature. The fox, chipmunk and wood thrush became my roommates,” says McFarland.
Beside the natural world, McFarland’s
other companion as a small boy was the Kodak Brownie-style camera he took along on his forays. Through the eye of his 620 box camera, McFarland saw the world in his own way. He also did artwork in pastels, pen and ink, and charcoal. He had a talent and sold his first painting at the age of 16.
When McFarland was a teen he and his family moved to State College where his father worked as a University Pilot for Penn State. It was there he met a soul mate with whom to hike. Barb became his high school sweetheart, and later, his wife.
In the early 1970s McFarland enlisted in the Army Reserves. “I’d never done processing ‘til then, but every base had a wet lab.” McFarland said he learned to develop his own photos during his tour of duty in Europe.
He and his wife moved up to the Rochester, New York, area during this time. After the Army, McFarland worked for Xerox while raising a family of three children. “Using the apartment bathtub to process film with three little ones all in diapers didn’t go over
so well,” jokes McFarland. “It wasn’t until years later—when my son was taking a photography class in high school—that I got back into it.”
McFarland moved on to digital photography shortly after his reemergence into the art. “I wanted to do black and white but I didn’t like the printer quality color,” he says. “I tried experimenting with the tone curves in B&W and other
Top: McFarland’s Naples Way View. Bottom: McFarland has been seen with a camera in hand since he was a small boy in the Pennsylvania Mountains.
colors—even blue.” McFarland found his own unique style with his personally created color palette of browns.
After 30 years at Xerox, McFarland moved onto software programming with the company that spurred his fervor for images in the beginning—Kodak. Today, photography is his art and the outdoors remains his passion. His love of the outdoors led him to the Canadian far north’s Kopka and Albany Rivers by float plane and canoe.
“These trips influenced me to take up serious B&W photography in an attempt to capture the essence, perhaps the very soul, of the beauty of the wilderness.” McFarland’s eye has also captured the wildness of places closer to home: the Allegheny Mountains, the Adirondacks, Letchworth and the vineyards and waterfall glens throughout the Finger Lakes.
“I love to set the alarm for 2:30 a.m., pack a thermos of coffee and drive to someplace like Buttermilk Falls outside Ithaca,” McFarland says. “I hit the trail before 6 a.m. and I’m excited.” McFarland
says he loves to capture the morning light and experience that type of alone time in nature, with everything just waking up. He also hikes with his camera at the other end of the day—deep into the woods and off the trail to find the best shots. “I always carry emergency supplies in case it gets too dark to find my way back and I need to make an all night vigil—I’m ready.”
Look for McFarland’s work at the 2nd Annual Naples Artisan Showcase in Naples on the weekend of May 22 and 23. Of course, you might also find him, camera in hand, down some forest trail, alongside a rushing gully, or beside a wilderness lake.
What: The 2nd Annual Naples Spring Artisan Showcase
When: May 22 and 23 from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Where: Naples, New York
For Info: call Grape Moments at 585-374-6563 or visit their websites at www.grapemomentstudios.com and www.bvtnaples.org
Angela Cannon-Crothers is a freelance writer and outdoor educator living in the Finger Lakes region of New York.
McFarland continued from page 24
McFarland’s Timeless Cascade shows the beauty his color palette can create in any landscape.
F OOD & D RINK
How Sweet It Is
Farm, Sweet, Farm could be the motto for the husband-and-wife-run Sweet Grass Meats
Story & Photos By Angela Cannon-Crothers
The products of Sweet Grass Meats in Italy Valley outside of Naples, New York are all-natural and “raised on grass and sunshine.”
“When you see the cows or sheep out grazing in the pastures, eating all that rich grass, you can’t help but think: this is good,” says Leith MacKenzie, who operates the farm with his wife, Sasha. The MacKenzie’s are right; studies show that grass-fed beef is higher in Omega 3s and lower in saturated fats. The MacKenzie’s raise and produce 100% grass-fed beef and lamb without antibiotics or hormones. They also sell pork and, in the summer, pasture-raised chicken.
Leith grew up on a family farm in Italy Valley. His father raised Scottish Highlanders - a shaggy, long-horned heritage breed of beef cow. Leith attended Warren Wilson College in North Carolina where he worked on the campus farm. His love of working with livestock led him to two ranches in Colorado, then on to Oregon, and eventually back to a farm in North Carolina where he met his wife-to-be, Sasha. The couple loved the idea of starting their own farm, and Leith talked Sasha into coming back with him to the Finger Lakes of New York to look for land near his father’s farm. Today they manage hundreds of acres of pasture and just finished building a small home that abuts his parents land.
After careful thought, the MacKenzie’s chose to raise Scottish Highlander mixed and Angus livestock. “We aren’t actually preserving a pure heritage breed,” Leith says. “We are however, preserving a type of small, stocky cow which is more efficient, requires less energy to produce, and can finish on grass.” The sheep they raise are Kathadin-Dorper crosses, a kind of “hair sheep” known for its meat that sheds its wool each spring like a wild sheep would naturally do. The pigs they produce are cross Berkshire boars, a rare breed, bred by their neighbors at Simple Gifts Farm.
With grass fed beef, you’re also far less likely to be exposed to the deadly strain of ecoli bacteria known as 0157:H7, which infects industrially-farmed corn fed beef (how much less likely is still up for debate, though many proponents of grassfed beef say there is no threat at all). “Digesting only grass prevents the gut acidity that 0157:H7ecoli needs to develop in cows,” says Leith. Unlike grocery store chain meats, none
of Sweet Grass Meats are treated with ammonia in order to make the food safe for consumption.
“As well, over 80% of our country’s antibiotics are given to feed lot animals,” says Leith, “that’s where antibiotic resistance is coming from.” Because the MacKenzie’s do not use antibiotics, they must ensure a clean environment for their animals by rotating them to different pastures, not crowding them, and keeping a close watch on their herds.
Right now the MacKenzie’s can’t offer their meat as certified organic and the standards are still evolving for meat.
“Sometimes I think it’s more complicated to grow all-natural food without the certification,” says Leith. “I have to make a lot more judgment calls; it’s not all laid out for me.”
Sweet Grass Meats sells everything from quality boneless sirloin roasts to lamb-burger, no-nitrate smoked ham steaks, brisket, hot and mild sausages and more. Their farm store is open year-round in the heart of Italy Valley on Saturdays from 9-2. They also sell at South Wedge Market in Rochester and with Good Food Collective Community Supported Agriculture.
The drive into the rolling hills of Italy Valley to the farm’s store on any spring Saturday is a worthwhile trip, so experience and taste it for yourself.
Angela Cannon-Crothers is a freelance writer and outdoor educator living in the Finger Lakes region of New York.
Top: The sheep and other animals of Sweet Grass Meats live a life free of antibotics and filled with fresh grass. Bottom: Leith and Sasha MacKenzie own and operate Sweet Grass Meats in Italy Valley, NY.
Read & Feed Marcella’s Magic
Cornelius O’Donnell
The late Craig Claiborne, at the time the influential Food Editor of the New York Times, said of Marcella Hazan: “(She) is a national treasure. No one has ever done more to spread the gospel of pure Italian cookery in America” And I say to that, “Amen.”
Thanks to the recent spotlight on Julia Child, many folks know that Julia came to cooking in her 30s due to the influence of her husband Paul. Marcella’s story follows the same scenario. Julia was a WWII “spy.” Marcella concentrated on obtaining two doctorates in biology. They both grew up in relative affluence, and cooks prepared the meals in their houses.Marcella met and married Victor Hazan, an American. His family was in the fur business in Manhattan, and eventually he took his bride to live in the big city. Victor, an epicure on the order of Paul Child, encouraged her fledging attempts at cooking. Marcella was blessed with a “taste memory,” so she concentrated on reproducing the foods she knew at home.
Soon she was giving classes in their apartment. In 1969 Craig Claiborne got word of this, attended a class, and praised her in the Times. The rest is history.
Marcella has an uncanny ability to write recipes clearly and express her ideas on the page. As she says, “Cooking must express taste, not technique.” Her teaching and writing share her golden rule: “Nothing unnecessary ought to be in the dish or enter your mouth…what you keep out is as significant as what you put in.” The recipes—as all Italian cooking should be—are based on superior ingredients.
For Marcella, the flavor of the ingredients should never be masked by overzealous use of herbs, spices, sauces, and accents such as garlic. For example, “Sauces should just coat the pasta, not blanket it.” The
Marcella’s Fennel and Orange Salad
You might imagine that Marcella’s books are filled with pasta recipes, classic Italian main courses, crostini, and the like. And you’d be right. But I love her way with salads that work so well with meats or fish from the oven or grill.
Here’s a delicious, refreshing, and simple example from “Marcella Says…” It serves 4 to 6.
1 medium fennel bulb
2 navel oranges
Fine sea salt
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper (optional)
tendency of chefs to serve vegetables “al dente” (in reality practically raw) is a particular anathema to her.
And while she loves freshly made pasta, factory made pasta can work well provided you use imported products such as De Cecco or Martelli. Both are extruded through bronze dies to add texture and hold the sauce. More importantly, the pasta sauce should suit the pasta’s shape.
There seems to be a new Italian cookbook published every week or so and are mostly forgettable. Instead, opt for any of Marcella’s books. Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, published by Knopf in 1992, contains both of Hazan’s earlier books: Classic Italian Cooking and More Classic Italian Cooking. Read Essentials and you need not buy another book on the cuisine of Italy (unless it’s another of Marcella’s).
I hope you’ll add Marcella Cuisine, published by Morrow in 1997, to your collection. And how could I leave out Marcella Says…Italian Cooking Wisdom from the Legendary Teacher’s Master Classes (Morrow, 2004) or her latest book, Amarcord: Marcella Remembers (Gotham 2008)? The latter is her autobiography and is as fascinating as the author.
My favorite of her books is Marcella’s Italian Kitchen (Knopf, 1982) possibly because many of the color photographs taken in her Venetian cooking school, feature Corning casseroles, supplied by yours truly. Most students came from the U.S., so she wanted to use products available here.
Trim off the fennel tops, all the way down to where the stalks rise from the bulb. Cut the bulbs in half lengthwise. If the first outside leaf is blemished, discard it. Pare away a thin slice from the root end. Slice the fennel crosswise as thin as you are able. If you have a mandoline, now is the time to use it. Cut away the tops and bottoms of the orange and cut off the peel and white pulpy white pith. Marcella carefully removes each section. I simply slice the oranges and then cut the slices in half. Arrange the fennel and orange pieces in a shallow dish rather than a bowl. (This may be done several hours ahead and refrigerate, tightly covered with wrap.
When ready to serve, toss with the salt, pour over the olive oil and toss again. Dust with ground black pepper if desired.
Note: Victor Hazan is an expert on Italian wine and wrote a book in 1982, called just that: Italian Wine. Son Guiliano Hazan not only has written three excellent Italian cookbooks, but runs a summer cooking school in Bologna, Italy. It’s a great place to get ciao – I mean chow!
Chef, teacher, and author Cornelius O’Donnell lives in Corning, New York.
hOME & REAL ESTATE
Cemented In Time
Sam
and Gloria Wool make concrete a must-have for any home decor
By Jennifer Cline
Sam Wool grew up in the concrete business.
His father, Walter “Bubb” Wool, opened Wool’s Concrete Block in the Newberry section of Williamsport in 1946, and Sam and his brothers were raised helping him.
“When your dad has a business, when you’re a little kid, as soon as you’re old enough to pick up a broom, you start helping,” Wool said with a smile.
Soaking in his father’s craft and entrepreneurial spirit (“I’ve only ever worked for one other person, and that was my dad,” he said), it wasn’t a far leap when he and his wife, Gloria, opened Wool’s Decorative Concrete at 3024 Lycoming Creek Road just outside of Williamsport. There they sell concrete and clay lawn accessories.
Wool worked for his father until Walter retired in 1987, after which Sam and his brothers took over. In 2004, they sold the block business, and that unlocked the opportunity for Sam and Gloria to open their own establishment in June 2006.
“This is something we had thought about for years: selling the fountains and statuaries,” Wool said, but the Newberry location hadn’t been right. Now, their retail property is filled with hundreds of unique products to help customers create a backyard refuge
— a menagerie of fountains, gazing balls, and other décor to dress up an expansive yard or a small deck, ranging in style from whimsical to stately, and from festive to serene.
Wool also repairs statuaries.
“Some things you could replace, but they have sentimental value,” he said, citing a statue he recently fixed that had belonged to a customer’s mother. “It looked even better than when it [repair] started. He was really happy.”
He finds that, as the economy has more people staying close to home, they are looking to upgrade their houses and lawns.
“People are still spending,” he said, but instead of pouring thousands of dollars into a short vacation, many choose to create a tranquil space at home that they can enjoy for years to come.
As the “outdoor room” concept grows in popularity, he said people are installing patios and soothing water features, as well as decorative pieces. Other trends include fire pits and chimineas, and the Wools are planning to offer outdoor fireplaces beginning this summer.
“My wife and I decided to sell fountains and statuaries, and one thing led to another,” he said of his growing product line.
The Wools attend conventions and trade shows to seek out unique products, making theirs a one-of-a-kind shop in the region and winning it customers from near and far,
including a family from Quebec who drops in every time they are in the area.
“People are tired of going to chain stores and buying the same things over and over again,” he said.
In addition to the wide variety in stock, Wool’s has catalogs of concrete and clay products in hundreds of style and color combinations. And if a customer can’t find it there, Wool’s most likely can obtain it from one of its smaller suppliers.
“We sell almost anything,” Wool said. He and Gloria are willing to spend hours with customers, sharing their knowledge and sorting through the options, to help them find the product that best suits their needs.
“We enjoy working with people,” he said, and that’s the reason Wool and his wife take pleasure in their work. “Some of my manufacturers can’t believe how much time I spend with customers.”
But he doesn’t give a second thought to going the extra mile.
“You try to treat people like you want to be treated,” he said. It’s another trait instilled in him long ago. “We always had the block business that way.”
Old Lycoming Township resident Jennifer Cline is an occasional contributor to Mountain Home.
Left: Sam Wool and wife Gloria (not shown) started Wool’s Decorative Concrete in 2006. Middle: A concrete beagle greatly resembles our Mountain Home mascot.
Right: Concrete knows no limits, from trees to deer.
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Someplace Like home In Season Dave Milano
Our undulating northcentral Pennsylvania topography— countless repetitions of compact valleys and stout, durable hills—makes for a schizophrenic traveling experience. Up, down, dark, light, exposed, obscured. It’s the sort of landscape that rebuffs boredom, but can also create in the long-time resident a latent addiction of sorts—to oscillation, and to verticality. Flat or treeless terrains can give the hill dweller vague feelings of vulnerability or even loneliness. A simple drive through Kansas flatland leaves him itching for the old familiar cadence of rise and fall, for a chance to wonder again, “What’s over the hill and around the curve?” or sometimes, “When can I just get back home?”
We live on a hilltop edge with a long westward view of serial valleys and hillsides. As if that weren’t enough to hold our interest, weather and seasons continually modulate the scenery, making novel impressions, daily drawing new attention. At the back windows, eyes jump instinctively across the landscape from part to parcel (“Hey, they’re putting a new roof on that barn…”) then zoom out for the big picture (“It’s raining over there by Mount Tom. Looks like it’ll be here in half an hour…”). Many times I’ve sat down with a good book and barely read a word for just looking. “I guess you don’t get tired of this,” is the oft-heard comment from visitors. We can only agree.
I’ve found over the years that hills
and hollows make much of my “stuff” surprisingly more useful, and sometimes more fun. Manual transmissions that languish on flatlands come alive in the hills, whether centrifuging along contour lines or boldly, head-on climbing and descending. A good camera is never without fodder, and a good photographer never without a fresh challenge. And of course my fly rod is happiest in hilly regions where steep, tumbling streams chase brook trout into discreet, quiet places, where they can be plucked out with a softly thrown fly.
We humans need relatively steady newness to dispel the deadly disease of boredom, and to maintain hope and happiness. As long as we’re moving, hills and hollows feed us that freshness continuously. Every activity, from building a house to a plain cross-country walk requires a bit more care, a bit more thought, a bit more adaptation. We accommodate because we must, and in return are given perpetual, natural renewal.
Robert Burns wrote, “Look abroad through Nature’s range, Nature’s mighty law is change.” Hills and hollows make fine places to observe Nature’s mighty law, without losing one’s sense of security or place. Come and explore. Stop (or settle) when your mood feels satisfied.
Dave Milano is a former suburbanite turned parttime Tioga County farmer. You can contact him at someplacelikehome@mountainhomemag.com.
IARKET P LACE
Shop Around the Corner O’Shaughnessy Girls
By Roberta McCulloch-Dews
f you’ve ever been interested in acquiring an antique piece but didn’t know where to begin, O’Shaughnessy Antiques and Fine Arts Gallery in Watkins Glen, New York, is a good place to start your search.
That’s because the owners of this corner shop at 300 North Franklin Street, Louise O’Shaughnessy and Deborah Pierce, are excellent guides to help you navigate the world of antiques. Between them, they have fine arts and history degrees plus decades of combined knowledge in the history of antiques and antiques appraisals.
“I’ve been an antique dealer and professional jewelry appraiser for 35 years. I come from a family of jewelry appraisers,” says O’Shaughnessy. Pierce, whose husband’s family owned Pierce’s 1894 restaurant in Elmira Heights, which went out of business in 2008, learned early on the basics of antiques from her mother and grandmother. “We’ve surrounded ourselves with an eclectic mix of these pieces in our homes and it extends to our shop as well,” says Pierce. “All ages, men and women come here. There’s a collector for every category.”
It is a diverse mix, indeed. Upon entering the store, patrons’ eyes will take in an assortment of items; the store sells antiques, estate and costume jewelry, artwork, and vintage designer clothing.
Pierce recommends that patrons give themselves ample time to peruse the shop. “You can go right to the jewelry counter or to the paintings, but spending an hour here would not be unreasonable,” she says.
The antique treasures cover the spectrum, such as a set of demitasse cups, which once belonged to Napoleon, an early 1800s glass swan bride basket, two Shaker rocking chairs,
and an early 1700s copper bed warmer with a long walnut handle, just to name a few. In addition, the store offers Royal Doulton pieces, a large collection of Steuben glass, glassmaker Thomas G. Hawkes of Corning, and European glassmakers such as Orrefors from Sweden. “We’re very proud of our art glass collection,” Pierce says.
Those who are looking for jewelry will find items such as a 1915 brooch enveloped by pierced jade and gold filigree, an antique hat pin holder made by Tiffany, and a handset rhinestone costume necklace. “We pride ourselves by dealing with natural colored stones and we carry jewelry as old as ancient Egyptian amulets, 1940s amulets, and 1970s disco jewelry,” says O’Shaughnessy. “There’s something affordable for everyone.”
A peek into the clothing section reveals garments like satiny lace-trimmed bed jackets, finely tailored dresses, scarves, shoes, and bags. The pieces are goods, Pierce says, that are provided to the store and also acquired from household appraisals. Pierce says attention to detail in the clothing is key. “It’s the color, the style, the year, and the designer,” she says.
But that doesn’t mean handmade items are not acceptable. “We have some handmade pieces that are just beautiful. For instance, we have a fuchsia swing coat with satin lining and piping inside. It’s a couturier piece.”
The ladies knowledge of antiques often comes in handy. “Sometimes the small pieces that people think are worthless have great value. For example, a woman came in with a dark and dingy brooch with stones in it,” says O’Shaughnessy. “It turned out that it was a late Victorian brooch pin made with gold and set in diamonds. We’re very good at finding
things of value that peoples may not be aware of.”
Ultimately, Pierce says her and O’Shaughnessy’s goal is this: it’s the sense of fond memories that drives a big chunk of the collectors’ business. We hope that when people come into our shop, they are impressed.”
O’Shaughnessy Antiques is located at 300 N. Franklin Street, Watkins Glen. For more information, call 607-535-4206.
Horseheads resident Roberta McCulloch-Dews is an occasional contributor to Mountain Home
Top: Louise O’Shaughnessy and Deborah Pierce have a combined knowledge of fine arts and history. Middle: O’Shaughnessy Antiques on North Franklin Street in Watkins Glen. Bottom: Collectables from all eras are available for purchase.
name rivals, approached the Obama administration about a bailout in early 2009. As part of the agreement to provide emergency funds for the auto industry, administration officials demanded a scale-down in the number of affiliate dealers connected to each company.
That was hideous news to hundreds of dealerships around the nation.
“Where this all happened was, General Motors, like Chrysler and others, went into hard times,” Schneck says. “So they went to Washington, D.C. to talk to a committee that President Obama set up. The first time they went to Washington, D.C., the only thing you heard about the event was criticism of them coming in on corporate Lear jets. That was the first meeting.
“For the second meeting, all of them drove in with their hybrid cars,” he continued, laughing. “What came out of that second meeting was that the committee members wanted the CEOs to get rid of some of their dealers, not knowing that we dealers don’t cost them any money. We pay for everything!
“I also blame General Motors for not telling them that, but it’s also that committee, which knows nothing about the car business, that told them this was what they had to do.
“So what do you do? You don’t say no if you’re looking for help, right? So you pretty much have to listen to what they have to say.”
Just the same, nobody at Hulsizer —heck, nobody in Lycoming County —imagined that this icon of automotive sales would face closure as a result of the Obama administration-mandated dealerships closures.
“The long and short of it is, we never thought we’d get a letter of termination
because we’ve always done such a terrific job for Chevrolet,” Schneck said. “The standards they went by are four categories of business. It comes to them in what they call a DART report, which I think stands for Dealer Analysis something something. One category was worth 50 points, another was worth 30 and two others were worth 10 points each. If you met their standards you would get 100 points.”
Hulsizer consistently exceeded every category. In their last DART report, the dearlership’s score was an astounding 193.
“Dealers below 100 points received a letter. Dealers above 100 points continued on,” Schneck said. “You could get over 100 points if you were above their standard in each category. You could have more than 50 in one catetory, more than 30 in another and so on. Our score was 193, so by all rights we should not have gotten a termination letter.”
What happened? Schneck believes that when General Motors went into Chapter 11, all bets were off regarding corporate franchising specifications “They were then able to pick and choose who they wanted to go forward,” Schneck said.
Top: Hulsizer Chevy in 1950. Bottom: The dealership was the top rated in the Northeast in 1988, shown left to are the district representative, owner Bill Schneck, and Fred Price.
Hulsizer continued from page 12
“That’s where the politics entered.”
Suddenly, and not for the first time in its long history, Hulsizer Chevy was fighting for its life.
“General Motors wasn’t listening to one little dealer saying, ‘Hey, I don’t deserve this.’ So I was preparing for arbitration in the timeframe of, beginning in the beginning of this year up through a few weeks ago. I had contacted an attorney and was gathering all the information I needed for this hearing.”
At that time Hulsizer was in a “winddown agreement” with General Motors. They were prohibited from ordering new vehicles beginning last June. Still, they persevered.
“With the help of my dealer friends, I was able to purchase new inventory from them, from the ones that were going forward,” Schneck said. “They did as much as they could to help me, but they also had to take care of their own needs for inventory. So it cut me short in inventory on some things—the hot things, the things that were easy, that were selling. Naturally they used those on their own lots.
“But even that did help, and I was appreciative of that. I was able to have some new inventory for the duration— from the time we received the termination letter till I was notified we were being reinstated going forward. That happened about the Sixth of March.”
To the relief of Schneck, his employees,
and the hundreds of his dealership’s “fans,” the story has a sudden and unexpected happy ending.
“I received a phone call from my district sales representative and she informed me that of the 2,000 dealers that received a termination letter, 1,100 of them decided to go to arbitration, which I did.
“She told me I was selected to go forward and I was among 580 dealers who were selected. As the time wore on, that grew to about 611, something like that. But that, in essence, stopped the termination.
“I received a “going forward” agreement, and I am now close to being reinstated to the point, really, where I haven’t officially received the documentation from them or am able to order cars, but I’m very, very close. All they have to do is flip the switch.”
By the time you read this, that “switch” may have already been “flipped,” and a certain car dealership that has been through 110 years of wars, recessions, fires and floods, will be up-and-running again.
And who knows, with its remarkable resiliency, Hulsizer may still be in business 110 years from now, when one imagines it will be selling methanepowered time-traveling DeLorians to its hundreds of devoted “fans.”
Editor, author, and frequent Mountain Home contributor Matt Connor lives in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania.
Hulsizer
Left to right: Hulsizer employee Jake Heiges, happy customer Leon Rupert, and Hulsizer employee Chick Adams, c. 1930s.
B ACK OF T h E M OUNTAIN
The Three Bears
Wellsboro’s Bernadette Chiaramonte-Brown caught a once-in-a-lifetime shot when these cubs set up a tea party in her backyard.
Ralph Ranck is glad he chose Dr. Osevala and Susquehanna Health.
Years after he had quadruple bypass surgery, Ralph started experiencing shortness of breath. His family doctor told him he needed a valve replacement and recommended another well-known medical facility for the procedure. Ralph chose his own path. He requested Susquehanna Health’s Heart & Vascular Institute and Dr. Mark Osevala. Why? Ralph wanted not only a highly accomplished surgeon for the most important surgery of his life, but also a doctor who would talk to him in a way he understood. And he wanted to be at the hospital where he had always been treated with respect and compassion – Susquehanna Health’s Heart & Vascular Institute at the Williamsport Regional Medical Center.
A higher level of cardiac care, closer to home.
visit
“Dr. Osevala talked to me in a way I could understand.”
