The Iroquois Indian Museum, Howes Cave, NY

While we were in Schoharie County, rambling through the deep, mysterious recesses of the subterranean (Howe Caverns!), I discovered another attraction nearby: Iroquois Indian Museum. I grew up in New York State, ancient land of the Iroquois Nations, so their history has been drilled into my skull endlessly since my school years. As a homeschooling mom (and New York traveler extraordinaire), the Iroquois history has become familiar territory. We’ve been to the Shakowi Cultural Center in Oneida, gone on an extensive search for the Oneida Stone, learned about the history of Hamilton College (originally built to educate local Indians and white settlers for the ministry) and Reverend Samuel Kirkland‘s house, paid our respects at the Oriskany Battlefield monument, and on and on and on!

The Iroquois Indian Museum is unlike any of the other places I visited. The artifacts and art displays mingled Indian culture and it’s development with the history of the Iroquois. In case you have never heard of the Iroquois, allow me to briefly introduce you. The Iroquois Nation consisted of five (then later, six) tribes of the Eastern Woodlands natives of North America: the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Senecas, Cayugas, and later, the Tuscaroras from Carolina. These tribes make a peace agreement with each other and were allotted tracts of land stretching across the untamed wilderness of what we now know as Upstate New York– the Mohawks were the “keepers of the door” near Albany and the Senecas maintained the other end of the land.

What made the Iroquois so unique was their form of self-government. When other tribes across the land were still hunting and gathering and slaughtering buffalo and each other, the Iroquois made a pact and recorded it with wampum (a belt of beads made from seashells).

The Iroquois Indian Museum is an amalgam of modern Indian art from local artists and artifacts discovered throughout New York State. Oh, how I remember as a little girl, digging in my yard looking for arrowheads!

An old Mohawk pot, reconstructed from shards.

A modern work of art crafted from a deer antler.

This is an amazing sculpture from a moose antler!

Indian beadwork from the late 1800s. The ladies of the Iroquois nations still make such lovely beadwork. I saw many such items for sale at the New York State Fair this year.

Wampum beads. It was difficult to tell what articles were new and what were historic.

Iroquois women used to decorate their pottery just like ladies still love to do, today. The placard said that you could always tell what tribe pottery came from because the designs were unique to the groups.

The Iroquois Indian Museum has two levels. One is filled with such amazing artifacts and art work. The lower level is for kids. There’s a big turtle pond that my son loved– the turtles were rather friendly and swam up to him. Or maybe my son just has this *knack* with turtles, I don’t know. There are “hands on” activities, tables with coloring sheets, a few televisions playing Iroquois-related documentaries, and a booth for dressing up.

We did not take advantage of it due to the cold, rainy weather, but the Iroquois Indian Museum has 45 acres of wilderness trails in the back. The area is a real wilderness, with a stream, lush forests and wildlife. It’s a popular place for birdwatching, beaver watching and searching for Natty Bumpo and Uncas. Haha, kidding about that last part, although my kids are CONVINCED we’ll find them someday.

There is an admission fee to the museum, and the museum closes January 1st. It reopens in May and is open every day except Monday until November.

Love Teaching? Check out the Woodrow Wilson Teaching Fellowship

A great teacher can change the lives of young people. I have had many experiences in my life where a compassionate, knowledgeable and godly teacher directed me and encouraged me. Teaching is a gift. While I think that everyone has it “in” them to help and encourage another person, some people just have this amazing knack of explaining and showing how to do or learn something that enlightens the minds of students.

If you or someone you know has that “knack” and wants to develop it further, check out the Woodrow Wilson Teaching Fellowship. There is a great need for good teachers today. The WWTF was formed to meet that need, to connect bright students, graduates, and established teachers with the brilliant and specialized education required to effectively train our young people. The WWTF is a scholarship, providing a $30,000 stipend to help future teachers complete their masters degree at participating universities across the mid-west.

Some of the qualifications include:

• have majored in and/or have a strong professional background in a science, technology, engineering or math (STEM) field
• have attained, or expect to attain a bachelor’s degree from an accredited U.S. college or university by June 30, 2012
• have achieved a cumulative undergraduate grade point average (GPA) of 3.0 or better on a 4.0 scale

You can see more qualifications, learn more about the program, and watch an informative video at the WWTF website: www.WWTeachingFellowship.org.

Currently, the three states participating in the fellowship are Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio. The Fellowship not only helps you with the financial support for higher education, but can connect you with the best schools and direct you toward the schools that most need your teaching expertise. This is a super opportunity to teach ohio or another state that needs high-quality, dedicated teachers! See the website for more information.

Seneca Lake and Geneva, NY

Our latest travels took us to an overnight stay to Corning, NY, in Steuben County in southern New York State. On our way there from Utica, the big news of that day (Sunday) was a huge lake effect snowstorm pummeling areas just north of Syracuse, NY. Oswego County was buried under 3 feet of snow. The city of Fulton declared a snow emergency as visibility dropped to zero and multiple accidents closed roads.

About 20 miles south of all this activity, we we driving along the Thruway, and it looked like this:

Not a snowflake in the air. Absolutely frigid cold temperatures, and the wind was wicked. We could see the clouds to the north– the lake effect clouds blasting the area north of us. Lake effect is so strange and so fickle! As we continued to drive west, we could see dark blue clouds broiling in the horizon. They were white and puffy on the top, but underneath, they were gray and blurry and looked like they were shooting down toward the land. It was like someone with a great big thumb came and smudged the clouds down to the earth. It was the lake effect at work, far, far away to the west over Lake Ontario. We could see it forming and watch it crashing down, but we never experienced a snowflake. I so wished to get a photo of the clouds, but we were traveling too fast. We sped westward.

Geneva, situated at the northern tip of Seneca Lake, is a lovely little city. It reminds me somewhat of Little Falls, but the buildings and streets aren’t as crowded. Population is under 15,000. Geneva is the original site of an old Seneca Indian village. The site is beautiful. The city sits on a slope, and the houses and roads clamber up the hill from the lake. Between buildings, you can see the lake glittering below.

Geneva is part of an area renowned for its great political and social movements. Elizabeth Blackwell, the first woman to graduate from a medical school, studied in Geneva, because it was the only place that would allow a woman to study medicine. Seneca Falls (haven of the suffrage movement, teetotalers, and abolitionists) is nearby.

Geneva is a well-established, wealthy city. I love the architecture. Here are some photos of the local rowhouses.

They are painted so vibrantly and have been maintained so well.

Below is the old Geneva Hotel, established in 1796. The street is brick.

Here’s the Presbyterian Church. It’s newer than many of the buildings, but the architecture is so clean and pristine.

Seneca State Park runs along the northern brim of the lake. I thought it would be great to venture out on the pier and take some photos out toward the center of the lake. Everyone else was silent and looked at me strangely. The temperature had risen to a balmy 11 degrees, and the wind was whipping wildly. I begged the boys to come with me, and, being the devoted boys that they are (plus risking being grounded for life), they came along.

It was f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g. Almost unbearable. My camera was freezing up and my hands were red and painful. We did run out to the pier to snap a few photos, and ran right back to the waiting van. Brr! See what the New York Traveler does for a blog photo-op?

The photos turned out rather nice, considering the overcast skies.

Here, the Episcopal Church towers over this section of the city. It looks like a castle, doesn’t it?

Geneva was beautiful. We’d wanted to see some of the historical homes in the area, but they were all closed for the winter. I guess heating those old beasts is too difficult. I wouldn’t have minded walking around in them without heat. Oh, well. Maybe someday.

We drove out of Geneva down Route 14 south. This route runs parallel to the western side of Seneca Lake, and the views are beautiful.

Seneca Lake is one of New York’s Finger Lakes– so named because they are long and thin and stretch across the state like fingers of a hand. Seneca Lake is the second-longest Finger Lake. Trout are abundant here. Because the lake is so deep, it has been used for submarine testing!

The Seneca nation of the Iroquois Indians lived here, until they made the mistake of siding with the British during the Revolutionary War (they lost). They were driven from their lands. The fertile land is now home to dozens of vineyards and wineries. The Seneca Wine Trail (something the Mr. and I hope to experience someday) is one of the larger tourist attractions in the area. The views of the vineyards drifting down toward the glassy blue water was exhilarating and left me breathless and trembling. Or, it might have been because it was 10 degrees. Whatever.

One of the finest views of the lake is at the Glenora Winery on Route 14.

None of the lake that we could see was frozen at all (save a tiny portion we saw in Geneva around some rocks and pamphas grass). The lake looked just as fresh and perky as if it was June. There was really no snow in the area from Harmony Beach (just south of Geneva) until Watkins Glen, and the southernmost tip of the lake. These slightly warmer conditions are favorable for grape-growing.

We drove to Corning (south of Watkins Glen), to a little hotel that I’d found on TripAdvisor. As you regular readers know, we do not stay overnight anywhere very frequently, as we prefer daytrips. However, we got a terrific deal on accommodations and sightseeing in Corning, so we made a night of it.

We stayed at the America’s Best Value Inn: Lodge on the Green in Painted Post, NY. I have my full review at my page on TripAdvisor.com. It was a wonderful place and the cost just couldn’t be beat– it was a fraction of what other places were asking. We enjoyed our stay and wish it could have been longer! If we decide to return to this area (no doubt we will), we’ll reserve another room at the Lodge.

I’ll be posting about our jaunts around the Corning, NY, area soon. I’m preparing photos and a few videos, so stay tuned!

The Old Main, or Utica Lunatic Asylum, NY

The Old Main is the local name for the original New York State Lunatic Asylum of Utica. It has had many names over its 150-year history: Utica Lunatic Asylum, Utica State Hospital, Utica Psychiatric Center. I didn’t travel out to the Old Main in Utica– not this time. I’ve been past the building a few times, and have walked the grounds when we visited an acquaintance of my husband’s, who was attending an alcohol treatment program there. That was fifteen years ago. I thought I had taken photographs then, as I was awestruck by the building’s architecture, but either I am wrong or I lost the photos. This is a “virtual visit.” Roger Luther has graciously granted permission to post his photos of the Old Main. For a multitude of awesome photos and a good summary of the Old Main’s history, check out Luther’s NYSAsylum.com. The photos are spectacular.

The building was open for patients in 1842, but is in terrible disrepair now. It is famous around the world for its architecture, and was home to many of the “firsts” in mental health in the nation. It was the first institute for the treatment of the mentally ill (previously, people had merely been confined). Remember the movie Jane Eyre? Orson Welles’ character kept his insane wife locked up in a tower. It wasn’t too uncommon for mentally ill and insane people to be locked up and the key thrown away. I personally think that a lot of mental illness came from the ingestion and absorption of lead, which was abundant in pipes, lining cisterns, in paints, etc.

The Old Main was the birthplace of the American Journal of Insanity by Dr. Amariah Brigham (this publication would later spawn the American Psychiatric Journal). Dr. Brigham changed the way mental illness was treated. He believed that most mental illness was caused by environmental problems (contaminated food or water, side effects of diseases) or mental strain (depression, stressful lifestyle). Unlike today’s physicians and Big Pharma, who are endlessly shoving pills down throats, Dr. Brigham believed that strenuous exercise, clean foods, and good hard work would cure most of the mentally ill. He was right, for most cases.

The architecture of the building is truly stunning:

[It] is internationally recognized as a monumental example of the Greek Revival architecture tradition… The huge size of the stone structure is perhaps its most significant feature; being 550 feet long and averaging 50 feet in depth. The projecting central portico is 120 feet long and is dominated by six limestone columns 48 feet high and eight feet in diameter at the base. “No European public edifice has a grander Greek Doric portico than that which dominates the tremendous four story front block….” architectural historian Henry Russell Hitchcock wrote in his definitive Architecture: Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries.

The Utica building’s Greek Revival, doric columns (six of them) are eight feet in diameter at the base and 48 feet high. They are at the main entrance which also has a gray facade made of upstate New York limestone. Two four story main wings extend laterally from the entrance. Later construction added wings to either end, greatly increasing its capacity (parts of these additions have since been demolished). One estimate compared the asylum’s original square footage to that of a 26 story sky scraper. In the attic, visitors may still see murals and the stage of a patient’s theater; sunlight still floods the vacant day rooms downstairs.

In 1850, a listing of accommodations noted: 380 single rooms for patients, 24 for their attendants, 20 dormitories each accommodating from 5 to 12 persons, 16 parlors or day rooms, 12 dining rooms, 24 bathing rooms, 24 closets and 24 water closets. The mechanical systems of the original building incorporated the latest improvements. Hot air woodburning furnaces in the basement provided heat for the building. Ventilators opening from the rooms to flues in the walls allowed air to circulate constantly. Hot and cold running water was supplied to each floor, the cold water coming from the roof while the warm water was pumped by a steam engine from basement storage tanks.

Don’t these old romantic pictures make you feel like you are putting your loved one in a tender, safe place?

Those old Elm trees in the Utica area were so beautiful, weren’t they? Back then, even the asylums were built and kept up to be beautiful. But the truth is, the things that went on inside weren’t always beautiful. The Utica Crib was invented here. It was a combination cage and bed, to restrain the uncontrollable patients. The crib was sometimes suspended with chains and would rock the patient, to soothe him.

Critics called it savage even though some patients preferred it. It was removed from use in 1887.

There’s more history that runs down the Main’s halls. Famed abolitionist, U.S. Congressman, and Hamilton College alumni Gerrit Smith was admitted to the Old Main for over two months. The story is filled with speculation and intrigue! Smith (whose homestead we Mecombers hope to visit this spring when we go on our Heritage Freedom Trail trip) was a “Free-Soil” advocate, and an outspoken supporter of violent abolitionist John Brown. (We hope to visit John Brown’s historic site, also!) “They” say it was John Brown who started the Civil War.

To be associated with such a “vigilante” as John Brown was political suicide. After Brown’s failed raid on an arsenal at Harper’s Ferry, Virginia, and his hanging a few weeks later, Gerrit Smith was fingered for aiding and abetting Brown’s violent raid. Smith was promptly admitted to the Utica Lunatic Asylum (by his family). Some historians have speculated Smith was admitted to avoid his critics and investigations. Others, exposing more details of Smith’s illnesses (including a long bout of typhoid that contributed to his chronic health conditions), said Smith was genuinely distressed, having been depressed for a long time. They say it was the Harper’s Ferry incident that “broke the camel’s back.”

One source claimed:

“Gerrit Smith shows continued marks of insanity,” a New York journal reported later that month. “No one is allowed to see him, but it is understood that he refers in his ravings to the Harper’s Ferry matter, and supposes himself arrested.”

And another source has a longer and extremely interesting report of the history. You can find that at The “Black Dream” of Gerrit Smith, New York Abolitionist.” I found the information and story there riveting. Here’s a portion:

The New York Herald dispatched a special reporter to visit Smith at Peterboro in late October to obtain more information concerning the abolitionist’s ties to Brown and the Harpers Ferry raid. The only statement the reporter could get from Smith was this remark: “I am going to be indicted, sir, indicted! You must not talk to me about it. . . . If any man in the Union is taken, it will be me.” This reporter had covered Smith’s gubernatorial campaign the previous fall and made some very interesting comments upon the changes in Smith since that time.

Concerning the controversy which followed the raid, the reporter observed:

[It] has not only impaired his health, but is likely to seriously affect his excitable and illy-balanced mind. . . . His calm, dignified, impressive bearing has given place to a hasty, nervous agitation, as though some great fear was constantly before his imagination.

The Herald reporter concluded from his visit with Smith:

He is in evident alarm and agitation, inconsistent with the idea that his complicity with the plot is simply to the extent already made public. I believe that Brown’s visit to his house last spring was immediately connected with the insurrection, and that it is the knowledge that at any moment, either by the discovery of papers or the confession of accomplices, his connection with the affair may become exposed, that keeps Mr. Smith in constant excitement and fear.

The Herald account was only one of several reports of Smith’s increasing state of agitation in late October and early November. The Rochester Daily Express reported that Smith had been “constantly wringing his hands and bemoaning the fate of poor Brown” and that the abolitionist’s friends were “apprehensive that his reason would give way under the load of grief and anxiety. . . .” The Albany Argus related that a visitor to Smith’s home shortly after the time of the raid reported that “his eye was wild and his appearance haggard, and his motion spasmodic and uncertain, but unceasingly restless”. Smith’s sleep and eating habits became increasingly erratic. He was despondent and his family feared he might attempt suicide. He even talked of going to Virginia to share John Brown’s fate. Finally, on 7 November, friends and family members were able to persuade Smith to accompany them to the state asylum at Utica by assuring him that he was on his way to Virginia.

Back to the Old Main. After years of dwindling financial support and the construction of better buildings, it was closed in 1978. The Old Main is in great disrepair now.

Some of its old wings have been demolished. You can see that there are huge gashes in the walls, allowing moisture and critters to invade.

When I attended Utica’s Genesis Group meetings years ago, there was some discussion about what should be done with the Old Main. There were some who wanted a museum of mental illness (which I didn’t think would be a very attractive draw), others wanted a Revolutionary War museum housed there, since central New York is so rich in history of that era. And others suggested that the City of Utica move its main offices there. There was talk about trying to get some rich investor to pour his billions into the place, but I don’t think anything came of that.

Part of the building was renovated a few years ago, and these rooms house the Records Archive and Repository for the NYS Office of Mental Health. But I think restoring the entire building could never be accomplished by the city (or the state) alone.

Sometimes, these beautiful old buildings are too difficult to restore, and they outgrow their usefulness; although I’m not ruling out any miracles. For now, the Old Main still stands.

Photos courtesy Roger Luther at nysasylum.com. (Thanks, Roger!)

Central Leatherstocking Region Name Changed to “Central New York”: My Opinion

It’s official. The unifying regional name for Oneida, Madison, Chenango, Broome, Otsego, Schoharie, and Montgomery counties– Central Leatherstocking region– has been changed by the New York Legislature to “Central New York.” Sure, Central New York is more efficient, more economical, more utilitarian, but this is what makes the changeover sad.

Who knew what “leatherstocking” referred to, anymore?

That’s what makes it sad.

Greater Utica Area officially renamed “Central New York” *[see my note below]

Assemblywoman RoAnn Destito said, “The Finger Lakes, The Hudson Valley** and the Adirondacks** [see my notes below] are designations that clearly define regions of New York State. White (sic) James Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales is an important part of our history, the Central Leatherstocking designation never really created an identity for our region’s tourism industry. The new name, Central New York, will help us do this, and it will greatly improve our ability to market and promote tourism in our region.”

Senator Griffo said, “The new name will simply better identify our geographic region. While it may seem trivial today – changing the name of the area was a huge step for the region.”

I grew up in the 1980s; and I have lived in the Central Leatherstocking region Central New York region most of my life. Even as a kid, I had NO IDEA why my region was called “Leatherstocking.”

You see, that’s what makes it so sad. Kids are not taught their history, their heritage, their culture. I think this is purposeful of the government school education: a whole populace educated about our history and heritage of constitutionalism and freedom can’t be counted on to kowtow Washington’s every whim, now can it?

“Leatherstocking” comes from the James Fenimore Cooper stories. I never knew of them as a kid. I found out much, much later as an adult, when I decided to become more educated about our history and heritage.

It’s a weird term, I admit. It’s outdated. And I wish I could say that Cooper’s books are riveting stories of passion and adventure. They are real snoozers, they are. But Cooper wrote them about our region, back when this was all wilderness, when brave men and women were forging houses in the woods and the glorious seeds of self-government in their hearts. Men were valiant, women were moral, children were eager, and God was revered.

Some will say I’m making too much of the name change. It’s *just* a name change. Ah, but words MEAN things; names MEAN things. When we mention the “Adirondack region,” we visualize pointed pines on rugged mountains that burn our noses with their tangy fresh air**. When we mention “Finger Lakes” or “Thousand Islands,” we visualize the geographic majesty of New York’s blue waters contorted into unusual shapes, twisted around emerald isles or in between languishing green hilltops.

But “Central New York” is so cold and utilitarian. We have no pointy pines or long lakes or bejeweled islands here. All we had was our history, that last thread of leatherstocking history that showed the other regions that we were of good stock: scrappy, industrious, and valiant. Now all we are is a central blob on the map. And what distinguishes us from all the other regions? Nothing, except that we are wedged between them.

I think it would have been much better to educate New Yorkers about their history than to change their name from under them.

P.S.
*We are not the “Greater Utica area,” either, journalists!

** The Adirondack tourism department successfully crafted an association with their unusual name, why couldn’t “Central New York”? I mean, Adirondack means “bark eaters”! But to most, it means the largest national park in the world. Why isn’t the Adirondack Region getting a name change? Answer: because they successfully created an association with their name. Same with the Hudson Valley. Central New York failed to do so, it’s not that the “identity didn’t work.” It’s just sad.

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