Herman Ten Eyck Foster Part 2

By Alice Askins, Education Coordinator at Rose Hill Mansion

In May 1842 Herman came from New York City to learn farming from Mr. Owens near Ithaca.  He wrote in his diary that he was sad to leave his friends, though trying to overcome it.  By June 18, he was already waiting for the Smiths to visit him.  Herman usually called the Smiths “the boys,” but their names were Augustus and William.  We do not know what their relationship with Herman was – they might have been friends or relatives.  The Smiths arrived at the Owens farm on June 23 for a five day visit.  They brought letters from Herman’s parents, a compass (which he said was very welcome,) and “plenty of candy.”  

In September, Herman wrote that ”Mr. O. has consented to receive the boys (Smiths.)  I am very glad of it as they will be some company for me. …”  He spent December and January away from the farm, and did not keep his journal during those months.  Returning to the Owenses in February, he brought the Smiths with him and they quickly settled in.  The three young men arranged and catalogued their books (Herman said they had 101 books, all the best works on agriculture, history, biography, “etc.”), got weighed in Jacksonville (William weighed 130, Augustus 124, and Herman 160), bought a bureau in Trumansburg, and got measured for frock coats.

We can picture William and Augustus Smith looking like this in their new frock coats.  Frock coats were formal day wear.  The boys would have worn them for church and to pay calls, but not for working on their farm.  The figure on the right wears a variation of a frock coat called a cutaway, or morning coat.

 

On March 1, Herman wrote “Today is my twenty-first birthday.  I can hardly realise that I am so old, yet so it is.”  The three young men took a wintery journey to Ludlowville to buy a wagon on March 14.  They stayed overnight with friends, and “Went to bed by a fire, quite a luxury for us and duly appreciated.”  The following Sunday, “On our way through Jacksonville A. [Augustus] got a letter from Pauline.  While reading it, and when he had reached the 8^th line we were somewhat interrupted by the cutter turning over and emptying us into a snow bank.  I held on to the reins and was dragged along by the reins for a few feet on that part of the body usually denominated the abdomen.  We picked ourselves up and tried it again.  Before however reaching home we were upset 3 times.”

Summer eventually came, and marked a year for Herman on the Owens farm.  On June 9, Herman “Left home with Mr. Owen for Waterloo and to look at some farms.  . . .”  A Mr. Strong showed them around a farm owned by Mr. Malbone, “a very eccentric man, subject to fits of hypochondriacism.”   (We are not sure if this Mr. Strong was William Kerley Strong of Rose Hill.  Herman did know him.)  Since Herman’s father and Uncle Jacob had previously seen and approved this farm, Herman decided to buy it -  “Could hardly sleep for thinking.”  On Saturday June 10, he purchased the farm for $10,000.  His new property was south of John Johnston’s farm and Herman named it Lakeland.

Meanwhile, the boys were thinking of buying Mr. Van Gieson’s farm nearby.  Mr. Van Gieson was a brother-in-law of William Kerley Strong, who built the larger part of Rose Hill.  Though the parties came to a tentative agreement, when the Smiths went to Waterloo to make it official, a lawyer told them that Mr. Van Gieson did not have a clear title to the land.  Herman was very disappointed.  Eventually the boys bought a farm at Canoga, near Cayuga Lake.  We estimate that the boys’ farm was around ten or twelve miles from Herman’s, and there seems to have been a fair amount of visiting back and forth.

Throughout the summer, Herman worked on his farm house.  On August 16, he wrote “To all who may read this I would give one piece of advice – never repair old buildings.”  On September 14, he commented “House leaks considerably.”  By October he was referring to the old house and the new house.  He also noted when “all carpenters went to training” – apparently this was militia training.

Herman hired workers, including Matthias from the Owens farm, and a married couple named Pearcy for $180 for a year.  In September he wrote, “Alexander & James left for the west.”  (At this point the west may have been somewhere around the Mississippi.)  Alexander and James were probably farm workers looking for better opportunities.

As final touches to his new house, Herman fixed up the boys’ room (though the Smiths had moved by this time to Canoga,) and got a puppy from the nearby Dey farm.  On December 2 he wrote - “I put down the oil cloth and carpets.  We are now all in order.”  Just before Christmas, Herman left for New York -  “Stayed two weeks in city.  On Saturday, 30, became engaged.  On Monday, 8^th, left city....”

Up next, the farmer takes a wife.

Community Stories

By John Marks, Curator of Collections and Exhibits

Club 86 in the 1950s.  Photograph loaned by Bill Legott

Last fall we became involved in a film project about the history of Club 86 in Torrey Park. Jim Augustine, a Rochester native whose roots are in the north end of Geneva, asked for background information about the restaurant and Geneva. We made several posters about the club and Torrey Park for an old-fashioned gig at Club 86 with their famous food and a live band. Community members were invited, free of charge; the event and interviews with those who remembered the place in the 1940s and 1950s became the centerpiece of a short documentary.

 Last month we co-hosted, with the Smith Opera House, a pre-release screening of Club 86.  Like any creation, choices were made about what to put in or leave out (a planned DVD will include much more footage and interviews) but overall the audience was pleased with it.

Much of what I’ve written so far was reported in the Finger Lakes Times or is known to those of you who were there. The larger story that doesn’t fit neatly into a daily news article is about what happens when you invite a community to tell its stories. By and large, people show up and are happy to be asked. (Jim was a genius, offering free lunch and access to a cash bar – who can say no? Sadly, the historical society can’t offer incentives like that.)

As an outsider, not growing up in Geneva in the 1940s, I’m fascinated by the internationally-famous musicians that played the club – not one-night stands but five nights. The list includes Tony Bennett, Lionel Hampton, Louis Armstrong, Nat King Cole, Louis Prima, and many more whose fame has faded over time. I listen to their music and am amazed that Genevans (and people from further away) got to see them perform in a room where the furthest seat is still a short stone’s throw from the stage.

The stories I’ve heard from “insiders” are very different: each one focuses on family. “My grandmother worked there”, “I used to visit my Aunt Lena at work”, “my dad knew the Legotts and got me a job when I was 14”. The stories start with family, then usually move into working at the club – cleaning radishes, peeling potatoes, folding napkins, prepping the bar – and finally get to a human perspective of the stars. One man’s mother laundered and ironed Louis Armstrong’s famous white handkerchiefs. Another person remembered cleaning the main room while Nat King Cole practiced piano for hours in the afternoon.

I heard my new favorite story after the pre-release screening. A man came up to me with photographs of an upright piano lid. (I’ll be vague until I have permission to use names.) His grandparents were local musicians; when they went to shows at Club 86, they would invite performers back to their house for a drink. Many of the guests carved their names into the piano – the first photo I saw was Nat and Maria Cole, the next was Louis Armstrong and Velma Middleton.  I had to Google names like Johnny Board and Irving Ashby, but found they were well-known sidemen in bands that came to the club.

 Many of the signers dated their scratchings and were there in the late 1940s and early 1950s. One aspect of the story is that the host couple was white and most of their guests were African American, who couldn’t stay in Geneva hotels. What was that like? Did anyone say anything? Again as an outsider, even more amazing to me is walking up to Louis Armstrong and saying, “Hi, want to come out to the house for a drink?”

The eternal challenge for local history organizations is gathering these stories. People take the stories for granted because their friends had the same experience. They may share the stories with children or grandchildren who are unresponsive, and they stop telling the stories. Or they believe their lives were ordinary and they never did anything “historical” that a museum would want to hear about it.

Well, you probably did, and we want to hear about it. We can’t offer baked ziti and a live band, but call us or stop by and share your stories, photographs, and objects.

Without a Story it is All Just "Stuff"!

by Karen Osburn, Archivist

I think I have written before that I am a collector.  I am interested in many things, try out many crafts (with varying degrees of success), read lots of books and am constantly curious.  I love working in museums because they not only provide me with gainful employment, they provide me with the opportunity to learn about and work with other peoples “stuff”.

What is “stuff”? I looked up the word in the Merriam-Webster dictionary to get a complete definition; here is the Full Definition of STUFF:

1:  materials, supplies, or equipment used in various activities: as An obsolete:  military baggage

b :  personal property

2:  material to be manufactured, wrought, or used in construction <clear half-inch pine stuff — Emily Holt>

3:  a finished textile suitable for clothing; especially :  wool or worsted material

4a :  literary or artistic production

b :  writing, discourse, talk, or ideas of little value :  trash

5a :  an unspecified material substance or aggregate of matter <volcanic rock is curious stuff>

b :  something (as a drug or food) consumed or introduced into the body by humans

c :  a matter to be considered <the truth was heady stuff> <long-term policy stuff>

d :  a group or scattering of miscellaneous objects or articles <pick that stuff up off the floor>; also :  nonphysical unspecified material <conservation and…all kinds of good stuff — Eric Korn>

6a :  fundamental material :  substance <the stuff of greatness>

b :  subject matter <a teacher who knows her stuff>

7:  special knowledge or capability <showing their stuff>

8a :  spin imparted to a thrown or hit ball to make it curve or change course

b :  the movement of a baseball pitch out of its apparent line of flight :  the liveliness of a pitch <greatest pitcher of my time…had tremendous stuff — Ted Williams>

9:  dunk shot

— stuff·less adjective

As you can see, “stuff” has as many meanings as it has forms. For the sake of this blog post I will just refer to two or three dimensional, inanimate materials that take up space in our lives, mostly my life. 

Just "stuff."

My own house is filled with “stuff”, figurines of animals, stuffed bears, model horses, lots of books, and the materials needed to do several different crafts.  I also like to cook so my house is filled with unusual bake ware, odd dishes, ceramics, and ingredients.  I could go on, but I am sure you get the idea.  My life at home is filled with “stuff” and my life at work is filled with “stuff”.  At the museum I have 50,000 photos, numerous books, some art work, manuscripts, maps, family collections, business collections, religious collections and information on the city of Geneva.  At work the majority of my collections are two dimensional, the majority being paper or film.  The 3-D collections fall under the expert care of our curator, John Marks.

Everywhere I turn there is “stuff”.  So what is the point I am trying to make here?  All of these wonderful collections are invaluable, but I don’t mean in a monetary way.  Of course some items are valuable in a material way, but almost all of the things that fill my office, fall under my care in the museum, or collect dust in my home are valuable for the information they contain, the sentimental value or attachment they hold, or what their existence tells us about the people who once owned them.

Valuable "stuff" - Clio wishes for fish.

For example, in the archive at the Geneva Historical Society we have a many photograph albums.  Most of these albums are of local people living their lives in and around the City of Geneva.  Albums like these are history.  In context they tell the visual story of a family, their friends, and their pets in a place that is common and familiar to those of us who live in Geneva.  However, a small minority of these albums are filled with images of unknown places and unknown people.  They have no context for us to place them in so we guess at the dates, guess at the places and make judgments on the images because we have no way of knowing the truth about them.  The first albums are valuable historic documents; the second albums are interesting, but not as valuable and are more likely to be considered “stuff”.

As I look around my office I see a good example of “stuff”, a dream catcher.  Now I have a dream catcher at home that was made for me by a very good friend and given to me for Christmas.  It has sentimental value, it is unique, it was made just for me, and it tells me something about my friend and her ability and knowledge.  It is valuable “stuff”.  The dream catcher in my office was a promotion from a Native American group wanting a donation.  It is not unique, it is not carefully crafted, and it has no meaning for me except to remind me that someone was looking for money from me.  As far as I am concerned it is just stuff.

Just "stuff" - V-E Day in Paris, 1945

The difference between plain “stuff” and valuable “stuff” is not so much about what it is made of, but does it have a story behind it?  Items with history tell stories and become much more than “stuff”, generic items with no provenance are less valuable no matter what they are made of and fall into the realm of just “stuff”. 

Just to see if this idea of “stuff” makes sense to you, see which category “valuable stuff” or “just stuff” you would put the following items in:

1.)    Red Fruit of the Loom T-Shirt you have worn for 2 years; Crosby, Still, and Nash Concert T-shirt from an event you attended at CMAC; Land’s End T-Shirt bought in the Land’s End Store in Maine while on vacation in 2001.

2.)   Christmas card from your first Christmas; Christmas card from an acquaintance; handmade Christmas card from a good friend.

3.)    Small dog figurine purchased when you were 10 at you first trip to Niagara Falls;  a dog figurine you bought for 10ȼ at a garage sale; a ceramic sculpture of your first dog handcrafted by a local artist.

Valuable "stuff" - Walt Doupagne (my dad) in Paris on V-E Day

Sometimes it isn’t very easy to decide is it?  These are choices we all face whether you are in the museum field or deciding which of the 263 flower figurines of your deceased aunt’s to keep.  In the end it is all just stuff, the deciding factor is the story behind each piece.  If you have an interesting story to go with a photo, book, sculpture or any object please think about writing it down and keeping it with the item so it doesn’t get thrown away for being “just stuff.”