Appleboom Point

Pettiness in Paradise
and
Other Tales of Appleboom Point

author: John E. Connors

Backcover:

What appears to be nothing more than a sleepy side note on the Seaway Trail along the south shore of Lake Ontario comes to life in these vivid tales. They are written by a beloved teacher and a keen observer of human nature who adopted the tiny town of Pultneyville, New York as his home. Originally known as Appleboom Point, the community is shown in its heydey as a bustling harbor town filled with lively characters busily making history. The author, using accounts from local newspapers, diaries, and other historical sources, builds a richly imagined world of days gone by. The stories, while fictional, paint a vibrant picture of a town's history. They are complete with accounts of local militiamen resisting the British assault during the War of 1812 and conductors guiding others to freedom on the Underground Railroad. Then, too, there are patrons carousing in the Pig's Ear Saloon, returning heroes haunted by the Civil War, and ghostly entities inhabiting elegant homes fully equipped with witch bottles in the ceiling. Spanning the decades when sleek and majestic schooners plied the treacherous waters of the Great Lakes, the stories tell how it must have been when the high and mighty were brought to this crossroad of commerce. Pettiness in Paradise: And Other Tales of Appleboom Point takes the reader on a fascinating journey back to upstate New York as it was when the captain was king, and the way of life was the way of adventure.

John Connors was a graduate of Alfred University with a Master's Degree in English. He taught English at Williamson Central School in Williamson, New York and at the Rochester Institute of Technology. He loved poetry and wrote many poems, some of which have been published in various poetry collections. He also wrote a collection of his own titled Conjure Man. This book is his only published prose and is his last. John died in June of 2005.

(John E. Connors lived)
In a Place called Pultneyville...Appleboom Point

ISBN #: 978-1-4251-1448-0
Trafford Publishing
Printed in Victoria, BC, Canada

Thank you Mr Connors for believing in me and my writings. Love Always.

One student,

WCS, Class of '77

Jane Marla VerDow

Roots;Land and Water

Maternal Grandfather came from London ("Home" Kent, England) on The Saint Louis, (1910) as a young man of 20. Plans were to come to America to be a barber and to send money back home to his Mother. He was sponsored by a family (farmers) in the town of Ontario and worked for them until he purchased a farm, settled in the Town of Ontario, became a Father, and played coronet in the Ontario Fireman's band.

He never returned to England. Two of his brothers traveled England to America then back, then returned to America from 1909 to 1920. His brother purchased a ticket for the Titantic voyage but at the last minute "missed the boat" by a "change in plans".

Grandma Sarah (paternal line) came from Holland (farmers) with her family; Mother and Father ages 24 and 25, with three young children (born to that date) all under the age of five. Sarah, age 1, became ill on the voyage (The Veendam) and years later it was summized by the nature and lengthly period of time of her liver illness that she had contracted hepatitis on the journey. Her passing left 6 children ranging in ages from 2 to 16 to be raised by my Grandfather, the oldest children, and extended family.

2006, my parents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. To mark the occasion and for the gathering of family and extensive list of their friends of all ages I put together a scrapbook. I honored the fact that Mom's Dad (age 52) had passed the year prior to their marriage and Dad's Mom (age 40) had passed when he was 14 years old; neither of them living to be a part of that day in 1946.

I wrote this in loving memory to "the Grandparents I never met" and to include them on this day, 60 years later, in celebration of their children:

God, watch over me and mine I pray

Your Ocean to cross so vast.

Dream You planted in my heart just as deep

Your Promise be true, what I sow may I reap.

Set my sail to horizon -America, there may

Mother Liberty open her arms.

Captain my ship as she sails on the Sea

Me a lad or babe, Mother praying over me.

Farmland rich for Your Hands did make.

My gifts all I bring, from Thee.

My hands able to labor and music I play

Send Your Love and Guide my way. Amen.

Maternal family line; Great-Grandma and Grandpa. His family came from Holland sometime before the Civil War...stories were recorded by newspaper that he remembered the day President Lincoln was shot (about 5 years old at the time).

My Grandma had a green thumb for vegetable gardens and flowers. Memories of her many; spading dirt by shovel in the Spring and tending her gardens each Summer through Fall, a gift she inherited and learned from her father and then passed on to my Mom.

Photos taken near the Water, down on her Lakeshore; Ontario, the Great Lake. This place where families settled and they chose to be the caretakers of the land deposited there, a place to root children, and then to raise them near. She, this Great Lake and they, each generation, each family, each one...took a moment to be recorded as having been there...in this place, settled, together.

Good Friends

Grandpa, closest to water pictured above with a friend, was a farmer by trade, and an avid fisherman by hobby and at heart. His older brother, John was the "professional" fisherman on Lake Ontario waters. Stories told down of family back home in Holland, "farmers and fisherman on the Sea, they were."

Names of "Home Towns" In Holland (Providence) I saw printed, though letters switched or left off or added on through speech translation handscripted now in print or handwriting versions of the storycarriers. Here I will write them as Zeelandic Flander; Zuidzande; but most common I saw Cadzand. Speech we often heard Zuid-er-zee. I assume that meant land Zuidzande next to or on the zee (Noordzee/North Sea). Funny how sound and letters get lost over time.

Then, the waves and Sea...Now, still fighting the elements to work the land and to preserve home...that remains like Homeland, northwest Netherlands. The draw towards living near water remained in the hearts and Souls of next generations and there they settled along The Great Lake; Ontario. Farmland, rich and higher elevation this new place called, home.

Dad carried on the tradition...early morning fisherman with fish tales to tell, taking a break from farming.

Mom never learned to swim, was more fond of viewing or sitting near than being in the water. Still...the story has been told and retold how she jumped into the water (a pool, not the Lake or Bay) and saved me from drowning when I was 2.

"A day at Pultneyville Beach"

Mom sitting the closest to the Lake.

Growing a Family

Cherry Pickin'

Friends from Rochester visit the farm, photo shoot attempted

Big Sister, Little Brother

Special moment with Mother


Grandpa (Myron) and Grandma (Sarah), the early days

family posing next to Great-grandma's snowball bush



photos:

#1 Cherry pickin'. 1933. Dad with sisters. Adult female, lifetime neighbor/family (cousin) and her husband.

#2 Approx. 1929; third and fourth,1923; fifth, approx. 1923
top; Dad center fourth from left with sisters, Isabelle clearing her eyes, Mabel crouched down holding Beulah, and right side Viola, little one consoled by adult. Early spray tank background.
#3 Dad sitting on the lap of big sister, Mabel
#4 Dad on Mother's lap, Mabel looking on
#5 Grandpa and Grandma right, Grandpa's sister, Katie left.

Childhood; 1905

photo 1905; Grandpa and sister, Carrie

Nearing Twenty

Blossom Time

A walk through the orchard


Third week of May in Upstate

Apple Blossoms; May, 1920

(photo:1920; Grandpa VerDow with horses, Fred and Kit)

Day-to-Day along Lake Ontario; Upstate

Sun Rise

Approaching Noon

Sunday Afternoon Drive
Lake Ontario

One Room Schoolhouse


Sunday Afternoon at the Pier

Top three photos: 1918-1920
Schoolroom/class: 1912-1918
Crop Duster, aircraft view: 1947
Pier: approx. 1920; Grandma, Sarah middle

Pultneyville Back When

Pultneyville Harbor

Homecoming; The Place Called Pultneyville

Pultneyville...spoken just the way it looks...with a long e in the middle
that is unless you are talking with one of the locals...
one who's been around the block a couple times...
at the end of the day tired from working the orchards and fields,
or maybe with seasick legs just off the boat...

or then again, some days "jus' because" that's how the locals express their affection for their small Hamlet along the Lake Ontario Southern Shoreline.

Any of these the case and in fact you have found one with roots to there...Pultneyville is slurred to sound more like "Put-neyville"... Just for fun if you look real close at some written accounts printed for the Town of Williamson-where Pultneyville is properly positioned on the map in Upstate, NY, even the locals can be known to "misspell" her this way tho' they pass the roadsigns each day telling them how it is supposed to be...But...no matter, not to the locals...for calling Pultneyville..."Put-neyville" always comes with a smile.


From time to time in the future I thought I'd do some storytelling 'bout this little stop along the Seaway Trail. Rich in heritage connected to Lake Ontario...complete with fishing lines and everyday tale "lines" of "the big one that got away"; sunken ships and cannon balls found along her coast waters left over reminders of the War of 1812 and the St. Peter sunken ship (1898) at rest just off Fairbanks Point; or "the Lake was a bit rough today" warnings for sailing or fishing...

Or maybe show-n-tell you the homes dotting her shoreline of Captains past, many resting at Lakeview Cemetary overlooking, still watching their Lake. Some of the old time homes have not been reconstructed and the "hiding" rooms, many in attics of the homes remain, reminders of the Lake's purpose and calling to carry people safely by night calmed waters across to Canada. Some of the old time homes are cobblestone, small lake-smooth aged stones collected from her shoreline and carried to a coastline home or horse drawn closer to the "Ridge."

Oh...there are a million stories to tell...truth told, Lakeview Cemetary could tell you far more than I have heard to re-tell...because of the stones and the people buried there, yes, that's true...but more by the man who caretakes there. Ask anyone in Put-neyville this weekend...who to ask...about...that is, if you want to know any story that has ever been told or written about Pultneyville...and if you hear the answer, "Chet Peters"...well, you'll know first hand you are talkin' to a local.

For today..."Homecoming" Is the News around Pultneyville.

http://www.pultneyvillehistoricalsociety.org/pages/homecoming.htm

Pultneyville's Gates Hall is known to be "the second oldest little theatre in the United States".


For a listing of this weekend's production go to:
http://www.pultneyvillehistoricalsociety.org/pages/news_feat.htm



And...because the locals love the "holiday season" (even if it is the third weekend of July)
be sure to check out one of the newest attractions along Salmon Creek featuring local artists:

http://www.thelandingatpultneyville.com/pages/artisansloft.html


Have a safe and happy "Homecoming".

Jane Marla VerDow