Lazy, Hazy Days of Summer

By Karen Osburn, Archivist

A few weeks ago I went to a wonderful Strawberry Social at a local church and found on each table a lovely centerpiece with 3 brightly colored fans standing like straw flowers in a garden.  The note on the basket encouraged the people sitting at the table to use the fans for their comfort if they were warm and requested that when they leave they replace them in the centerpiece so the next diner could use them.

Fossenvue

Those fans brought to mind the old song about the “Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer” and how very glad I am summer days are here.  I know quite a few folks who dread the summer heat, but not me.  The summer warmth reminds me of the days of back yard swimming pools which killed your grass (until someone dropped a snapping turtle in them and the pool was punctured), fireflies, raspberries picked right off the bush and warm from the sunshine, dusty dirt roads by summer cottages, and swimming in the lake from the end of May until the beginning of October. 

I love the way the warmth embraces me when the humidity is just right so that the air feels “soft.”  I love the smell of warm roses, warm honeysuckle and warm earth.  I love to see things grow!  Tomatoes, cabbage, yellow beans, beets, cucumbers, eggplant, cauliflower, broccoli, lettuce, and potatoes just spring out of the ground.  Strawberries, blueberries, and melons arrive in abundance, while cherries, apricots, peaches, nectarines, and plums ripen on the trees and bend the branches toward me so I can pick them.  The grass not only requires lots of mowing, but also beckons me to walk through it in my bare feet and feel the carpet of green blades between my toes.

Firemen's Parade, 2007

I remember days spent on a lake with my dad fishing, canoeing, and boating.  I remember nights spent toasting marshmallows by campfires.  I love the freedom of no boots, coats, scarves or mittens.  I enjoy watching my cats sit in the windows as dusk falls relaxing comfortably on the windowsills and sampling the smells on the night air circulating the neighborhood. 

Cruisin' Night

Do any of these memories from my childhood on a different lake in a different New York State town relate to Geneva?  Oh yes!  I now watch the fireflies infiltrate the back yard behind my apartment and the sound of the Pulteney Park fountain plays gently on the air with the songs from the Methodist Church carillon drifting through my window.  I share ice cream with friends at one of several ice cream/frozen yogurt stores and cookouts and chicken Bar-B-Qs abound.  I thoroughly enjoy the fireworks display the American Legion puts on at the end of their carnival each year.  I love the local church carnivals, the parade on Memorial Day Weekend, the Firemen’s Parade, the Sons of Italy Festival, the Latino Festival, the Plein Air Festival, Crusin’ Night, Music on Porches, the Garden Walk, the Tour of Homes, Geneva Music Festival, Medley of Tastes, Jane Austen Day at Rose Hill, Farm Heritage Day at the Johnston Farm, and the Rose Hill Mansion Food and Wine Celebration.  Wow, that is just a partial list.  I am overwhelmed with the wealth of summer fun that abounds in the Finger Lakes region.  There are cheese trails, wine trails, brewery trails, farmers market, stands and stores selling homemade ice cream, the list just goes on and on.  I don’t think it matters where you are in New York State, you will find many activities to participate in that will remind you of summers past.  And with a little effort you can encourage your children to make memories that they can fondly look back on each time summer roles around anew. 

Pultney Park, 2006

I hope each of you steps out into this bountiful and beautiful area we call the Finger Lakes and make a memory today.  Don’t pass up the chance to eat ice cream, go swimming, see wildlife, visit a local museum, smell and taste the summer.  We have about 3 months to recharge ourselves before winter; last one to the lake is a rotten egg!

The Seneca Chief

By Alice Askins, Site Manager of Rose Hill Mansion

View of Geneva, ca. 1836.  The steamboats are the Geneva (formerly the Seneca Chief) and Stevens.

In 1807, people on the west bank of the Hudson River saw a strange boat.  It was Robert Fulton’s North River Steamboat, often called the Clermont.  The boat was the first vessel to prove that steam propulsion would work for commercial river traffic. According to the book Great Fortunes: 

“What seemed strange in the vessel was the substitution of lofty and straight black smoke-pipes, rising from the deck, instead of . . . gracefully tapered masts . . . and, in place of the spars and rigging, the curious play of the working-beam and pistons, and the slow turning and splashing of the huge and naked paddle-wheels . . . The dense clouds of smoke, as they rose wave upon wave, added still more to the wonderment . . “.

In 1817, steam propulsion spread to Lake Ontario when a consortium in Sackets Harbor funded the construction of the first US Great Lakes steamboat, the Ontario.  By the late 1820s Seneca Lake had its first steamboat, the Seneca Chief.  It was built for and operated by the Rumney brothers, Geneva merchants.

The Chief’s keel was laid in Geneva on December 12, 1827.  Originally the boat was 90 feet long, 19 feet wide, eight feet high, and the draft was four and a half feet.  In June 1828, the Geneva Gazette reported that the Chief’s engines were between 40 and 45 horsepower, and would propel the boat at 10 to 12 miles per hour.   

Launched in May 1828, the Chief’s first official trip was part of the Independence Day celebrations (the exact date is uncertain, as different sources mention different dates).  The Gazette reported,

“We are indebted to a friend for the following account of an excursion made on Saturday last, from Geneva to the head of the Seneca Lake, on board the Seneca Chief, by a party of Ladies and Gentlemen, which . . . amounted to one hundred and thirty persons. The day was uncommonly fine, the party in excellent spirits . . . The Boat left the Harbor at Geneva precisely at 8 o'clock in the morning . . . The country on each bank of the Lake excited universal admiration among the passengers . . . between four and five thousand persons assembled at [the head of the lake]  . . . to greet the Steam Boat on its first trip . . . After stopping here about two hours, the Boat set out on its return to Geneva, where she arrived at eight o'clock, having been a little more than five hours going, and rather less in returning.  Part of the way down her speed was equal to ten miles an hour, without raising the pressure to near the capacity of her excellent Engine . . .  when fully completed and the machinery worn smooth, the Boat will be enabled to make her trips . . . and return in eight hours, including short stoppages at several points.  A Band of amateur Musicians afforded a zest to the pleasures of the day.“

The writer was delighted that the Chief had created “ next door neighbors” at the other end of Seneca Lake, “that hitherto remote region.”

The Seneca Chief, however,  was not just a pleasure boat, though. 

“Immediately after the Fourth the Steam Boat will commence her regular trips to the head of the Lake daily, Sundays excepted, leaving Geneva at 7 in the morning and returning at 7 in the evening—carrying the mail in connexion [sic] with a daily line of Stages to Washington city.  She will touch at Dresden and at Bailey town 

(near Ovid) to receive and deliver passengers and take freight boats in tow.”   

The Courier mentioned in April 1831 that the Chief had arrived with passengers and ten boats in tow, which included such cargo as flour, pork, whisky, and lumber.  The Gazette predicted that “Geneva will become a great focus for travel by Steam Boats, Canal Boats and Stages.”

The Rumneys did not rest on their laurels.  Less than a year after its launch, they overhauled the Chief:

“The Engine has been raised so as to add three feet to her wheels, giving them a diameter of 15 feet.  An elegant Cabin is erected upon the deck . . . a mast has been added on which to spread a sail in a fair wind; and, taken altogether, she is much improved in speed, accommodations and appearance.” 

In January 1832, a storm sank the Seneca Chief at the wharf.  When the boat was raised, the damage was minor.  Still, the Rumneys took the opportunity to make more changes.  That spring, the Courier announced that

“The Steam-Boat Seneca Chief has now commenced running up and down Seneca Lake, four times each week . . . The boat is much improved in appearance and speed . . . and every attention will be paid to the comfort of passengers, as well as the strictest attention to neatness and order.  No ardent spirits will be kept on board. ."   

In 1833, the Rumneys sold the Seneca Chief to John R. Johnston and Richard Stevens, who in turn bought the steam navigation rights to Seneca Lake.  Johnston and Stevens rebuilt the Chief, lengthening it by 35 feet and renaming it the Geneva.  They may have installed a bigger engine, as an 1879 memoir stated “When John R. Johnston operated on the water, a new life was put into the steam marine of Seneca Lake, and things moved lively from that time to this.”   Two years after purchasing the Chief,  Johnston and Stevens built the Richard Stevens, the second steam boat on Seneca Lake.

By 1847 or 1848 (sources differ) the Seneca Chief/Geneva had come to the end of its useful life.  Someone had a brilliant idea – they could blow up the boat as part of the July 4^th celebrations.  The Gazette described the event in 1889:

“It was to be the grand coup of the celebration. Loaded with a supply of powder she was placed far out in the lake, and a wire connected with an electric battery run to her. A grand spectacle was looked for by the assembled multitude on the shore. It is estimated that 10,000 people were present lining the shore at every convenient point. The electric key was touched time and again but there was no thundering response. Failing in this a party armed with a fuse was despatched [sic] in a small boat and another attempt was made to blow her up by thus igniting the powder.  This even failed to work, but the boat took fire and the disappointment of the spectators was considerably lessened by seeing the relict of the grand old steamer shoot fiery tongues towards heaven, illuminating the whole harbor and the adjacent shores . . . The powder had become wet in some manner and its explosive qualities thus destroyed.  As it was the sight was a memorable one.”

Geneva's Changing Waterfront

John Marks, Curator of Collections and Exhibits

Geneva’s Changing Waterfront was the name of a 1989 exhibit and catalogue by researcher Kathryn Grover. The title sounds “ripped from the headlines,” as some TV shows say. Seneca Lake and its shore have always been valuable commodities to Geneva but the nature of that value is always changing.

The lake offered food and transportation for Native Americans. They had no known towns on the lake – those were situated on hilltops for defensive reasons – but in the summer people camped on the shore to catch and dry fish. This was especially true in the shallow areas near inlets and outlets where it was easier to wade out and use nets. A canoe could travel up the Seneca River and east almost to the Mohawk River; after a short carry, it could continue out to the Hudson River.

Early sketch of South Main Street from the lake, 1790s

American settlers valued the bluff that became South Main Street for its view and healthy air. Land around the foot of the lake (the Finger Lakes flow south to north, so the north is the “foot”) was swampy and people who lived near it contracted “Genesee fever,” probably a form of malaria. Land agent Charles Williamson laid out the new village on the high ground; today’s Pulteney Park was the central business district, with homes down Main Street and nearby. The bottom land was occupied by warehouses and less-affluent citizens.

The lake was a major transportation route from the 1790s until the early 20^th century. Lake schooners and steamboats carried produce and goods from around the lake to Geneva, which became an inland port when the Erie Canal was completed in 1825. (The Seneca-Cayuga Canal was in operation prior to 1825.) Steamers hauled “gangs” of barges on the lake between the Seneca-Cayuga in the north and the Chemung Canal in the south.

Factories were always portrayed with smoking stacks; no smoke meant no work.

Commerce has always located near the best transportation routes. Factories and warehouses built docks along the downtown lakefront. Hotels, taverns, billiard rooms, and bordellos on Exchange Street served the lake and canal traffic. Until the 20^th century, respectable businesses were located on upper Seneca and Castle Streets, away from the riff-raff.

In the 1950s, the lakefront was again valued as a transportation route, this time for a bypass around downtown. Almost a million tons of fill were used to expand the shoreline so Routes 5 & 20 could avoid local streets. Divided highways were laid out with a wide grassy median. The downtown lakefront had no perceived value until the 1980s when the roads were moved to the west, creating room for development.

The original arterial design, 1960s

This is a simplified history of the waterfront. A more complicated version includes a century-long debate about how to use the lakeshore closest to downtown. From 1916 to the 1950s, Lakeside Park, at the end of Castle Street, was a pleasant recreational site but it took eleven years of heated debate to be built. The Historical Society has blueprints, master plans, and recommendations for waterfront development dating back to 1935. They range from a mix of industry, retail, and recreation, to single-use options. New reports are added to our archives every few years.

This 1935 proposal for a park begins at Lake Street (far left). The eastern portion, not shown here, included ball fields and a marina, similar to what was finally built in the 1960s as Seneca Lake State Park.

I’ll refrain from giving an opinion on lakefront development; I’m one person, and this is a hot topic. I will say that the Historical Society is a great resource for anyone seeking the “long view” of the lakefront’s history. We have maps, photographs, postcards, and the aforementioned plans and studies. Geneva’s Changing Waterfront: 1779-1989 is out of print but used copies may be found in local stores and the Geneva Public Library should have a copy as well. (We are considering digitizing the book and offering on-demand copies in the future.)

From Lake to Table (Fish Dinner from Catch to Table)

By Karen Osburn, Archivist

I was very young when I learned not all the food my family ate came from a store.  My maternal grandfather had operated a small farm before I was born and by the time I arrived on the scene he still kept a few chickens around.  I was the type of child who was fascinated by any 4 legged or 2 winged animal and I loved going to visit Grandpa Henry.  I knew eggs came from those chickens not the grocery store. 

Later, I learned corn, tomatoes, lettuce, beans and squash were grown in our garden, along with some other vegetables I distinctly did not enjoy.  I even got to visit a barn full of sheep and later pigs.  I discovered that you should not bother the sow (female pig) and piglets unless you were able to outrun the pig and the rest of the children who helped you tease her.

Still, the best part of my fresh food experience involved fish.  My father and his father were hobby fisherman.  They loved spending the day by the water, any body of water, and casting in a line with the hope that some large (or medium size) denizen of the deep would deem their bait worthy of a taste.  If the bobber dipped below the surface the battle was on!  Since they fished exclusively fresh water the hook could hold any number of surprises; largemouth bass, small mouth bass, muskellunge, pike, pickerel, bullhead, trout, perch, black bass, rock bass, sunfish, carp or even eel.  Every strike was an adventure for a 6 year old. 

As my family was Roman Catholic and I grew up in the days of no meat Fridays, fresh fish was our alternative.  If there was no fish in the refrigerator we were forced to eat the dreaded creamed canned salmon on potatoes or worse…EGGS!  To this day I seldom eat eggs unless I am out at a restaurant for breakfast.  I became a fish connoisseur early knowing that I favored the fish with fewer bones over the ones with many.  Fish lightly floured and sprinkled with salt and pepper then fried in hot butter was a highly prized luxury for me.  Some of my favorite fish were smelt.  Small finger length fish that could quickly cleaned and prepared. 

With all fish, once the catch is on the hook, in a net or in the boat the next step to a fish dinner is cleaning.  This is where I balked.  I had often watched my dad scale and clean various types of fish, but when he wanted me to help, oh no!  Dad’s explanation was pretty clear.  My mom had cut her finger and if I wanted smelt instead of eggs this Friday I had best sit myself down and toughen up.  Sigh, I wanted smelt so I sat and gulped.  My dad, who often couldn’t figure out how to deal with the 3 women in his house, had an inspired moment using this “food preparation event” to teach me about fish anatomy.  Since you catch smelt in the spring around spawning time it was the perfect time to teach me how to tell a male fish from a female based on their insides.  Before I knew it the cleaning was over, fish were ready for Friday dinner, and I learned something!

So what, you ask, does this story have to do with the Finger Lakes or even the Historical Society?  The answer is multi-faceted.  First Seneca Lake is called the “Lake Trout Capital of the World” and each year the Lake Trout Derby is held on Memorial Day weekend.  Second, most of the fishing my father and I did years ago was in the Finger Lakes, mainly Hemlock and Canadice.  However, from time to time we did manage to go to some of the other Finger Lakes like Honeoye, Seneca, Canadaiqua, Otisco, and Conesus.   I loved them all and considerd myself very fortunate to be able to live in this beautiful spot.  Finally, one of the stories concerning Rose Hill involves a muskellunge (often called a “Muskie”), which Robert Swan bought while in Geneva and brought home for their cook to prepare.  A letter about the meal states the fish was very large, the cook served the fish boiled and nobody cared for it very much.

Well, of course they didn’t!  Muskellunge is a game fish that can grow upward of 50 inches and weigh 30 or more pounds.  It has some “y” shaped bones that need to be removed before cooking, unless you want to take a very long time to pick over your meal.  The fact that the fish grows so large means you should clean any visible fat off it to enhance the flavor and discard the pollutants which collect in the fat.  Of course the cook probably looked at the fish and thought “what will I do with this thing?”  Still, I can’t imagine serving it boiled.  I checked the internet for Muskie recipes and found recommendations for pan frying, baking, grilling and poaching, but not boiling.

I had the opportunity to cook a “Muskie” once and lightly floured it then cooked it with a sprinkle of salt and pepper in hot butter.  It was “WONDERFUL” even though I had to watch extremely carefully for bones.

I think it really is sad that so many children today don’t understand where our food originates.  I doubt many of them have been chased by pigs, ridden a tractor with their father to plow the garden or had the chance to learn about the internal organs of fish while sitting by the sink cleaning smelt.  The Swan children of Rose Hill knew who produced their food and how it arrived on the table.  Many times when I give a tour at Rose Hill and mention the muskellunge I hear, “What is that?”  Thanks to my childhood, I can tell our visitors.

Miss Trout