BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, A PUMPKIN, TWO RAGING STEEDS, A HORSEMAN, AND ICHABOD CRANE

Halloween in Gravenhurst -  Despite the continuous rain falling on Halloween evening in Gravenhurst, a large number of Trick or Treaters were out touring the neighbourhood seeking those homes who were shelling out the goodies. (Photo By Fred Schulz)

Trick or Treating for the Local Food Bank -  Sue Armstrong (Right) along with Daughter Erin (Middle) and friend Abby Brown (Left) were out in the rain in Gravenhurst this evening Trick or Treating for the local Food Bank in Gravenhurst through the Me to We – We Scare Hunger Program. (Photo By Fred Schulz)

TIckets still available!

BRACEBRIDGE, MUSKOKA, AND THE LEGENDARY RIDE OF THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN

ICHABOD....POOR FELLOW

     "IRVING DIED ON THE NIGHT OF NOVEMBER 28TH, 1859, AND ALL THAT WAS MORTAL OF HIM WAS BURIED ON THE 1ST OF DECEMBER, AT TARRYTOWN. IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL WINTER DAY, CLEAR AND SUNNY, RADIANT WITH THE STILL LINGERING INDIAN SUMMER, WHICH SHED A SOFT AND MELANCHOLY LIGHT OVER THE SOLEMN SCENE. 'IT WAS ONE OF HIS OWN DAYS,' SAID THE MOURNERS, AS THEY RODE FROM 'SUNNYSIDE,' TO CHRIST CHURCH, WHERE THE FUNERAL SERVICES WERE HELD, AND THENCE TO THE CEMETERY, ABOUT A MILE DISTANT, ON THE SIDE OF A HILL, WITH A VIEW OF THE HUDSON ON ONE SIDE, AND ON THE OTHER, OF THE VALLEY OF SLEEPY HOLLOW - CLASSIC GROUND WHICH THE GENIUS OF IRVING HAS MADE IMMORTAL," WROTE RICHARD HENRY STODDARD, IN HIS BRIEF BIOGRAPHY, ACCOMPANYING THE 1893 REPUBLICATION OF "THE SKETCH BOOK."
     MY 1893 EDITION OF WASHINGTON IRVING'S, "THE SKETCH BOOK," IS NEARING THE POINT, WHERE LIKE ICHABOD CRANE, IT WILL SOON RETURN TO THE EARTH FROM WHICH IT CAME. ONE OF THREE IN THE REPRINT SERIES FROM THE 1890'S, I PURCHASED AT THE EWING ESTATE AUCTION, IN THE MID 1980'S, AT THE ZISKA ROAD FARMSTEAD, IN BRACEBRIDGE, IS IN FAILING HEALTH, DUE TO THE POORER QUALITY PAPER ON WHICH IT WAS PRINTED. THE ACID CONTENT IN THE PAPER IS ACTUALLY WORKING FROM THE INSIDE OUT, TO TURN THE PAPER INTO A FINE DUST. I'VE HAD SEVERAL BOOKS DETERIORATE IN THIS FASHION, BUT THEY WERE NEVER VALUABLE TEXTS TO START WITH. WHILE I WOULD LIKE TO OWN FIRST EDITIONS OF BOTH "THE SKETCH BOOK," FROM 1819 AND "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," CIRCA 1822, I DON'T HAVE THE THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS IT WOULD TAKE TO MAKE THE ACQUISITIONS. THE CHEAPER VERSIONS OF THE SAME BOOKS, OF THE 1890'S, WERE PUBLISHED FOR THE MASSES, AND WERE OFTEN KNOWN BROADLY AS THE "POPULAR EDITION," AND THE "CHEAP EDITION." THE PAPER WAS OF LESSER QUALITY, AND YET, IT HAS STILL LASTED FOR WELL MORE THAN A CENTURY, UP TO AND INCLUDING HALLOWEEN 2013....AND ITS OBLIGING KINDNESS TO THIS WRITER, OFFERING THE OPEN PAGES OF "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW." I WILL LOOK AFTER THIS BOOK, AS BEST I CAN, IN AN ARCHIVE'S SENSE, BUT I KNOW IT WON'T BE OF MUCH USE IN ANOTHER TEN YEARS, AS EVEN NOW, ALL IT WOULD TAKE IS A MODEST AMOUNT OF ROUGH HANDLING TO DISINTEGRATE TOTALLY. IT IS KIND OF A SPIRITED LITTLE COLLECTION, AND IT MEANS SOMETHING TO ME, IN THE FACT THAT IT CAME FROM A BRACEBRDIGE AREA FARMSTEAD, WHEN THE TOWN ITSELF CARRIES THE PROVENANCE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. IF YOU ARE JUST JOINING THE BLOG TODAY, YOU CAN ARCHIVE BACK TO MONDAY, WHEN THE WASHINGTON IRVING SERIES BEGAN. YOU WILL LEARN ABOUT THE PROVENANCE BETWEEN WASHINGTON IRVING'S BOOK, "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," AND HOW THE NAME WAS SELECTED BY POSTAL AUTHORITY, WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR, IN 1864, FOR THE TITLE OF THE NEW POST OFFICE FOR THE PIONEER HAMLET. THE UNFORTUNATE REALITY IS, THAT THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE HAS NEVER IN ITS HISTORY, DECIDED PUBLICLY, AT LEAST, TO FURTHER DEVELOP THE INHERENTLY POSITIVE RELATIONSHIP, WITH ONE OF THE BEST KNOWN WRITERS IN THE WORLD. PITY.
     WE NOW REVIST THE LAST FEW MOMENTS OF THE WILD WOODLAND RIDE, OF IRVING'S TRAGIC CHARACTER, ICHABOD CRANE, THE TEACHER AT THE SLEEPY HOLLOW SCHOOL. IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER, ICHABOD WAS BEING CHASED, ON HIS WAY HOME, BY THE HESSIAN TROOPER, BETTER KNOWN AS "THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN." IT'S IS EXPECTED BY IRVING, THAT READERS WILL UNDERSTAND THE HORSEMAN, BY SPECULATION,TO BE THE CHARACTER BRAM BONES, THE OTHER MAN IN COMPETITION FOR ONE OF THE SLEEPY HOLLOW DAMSELS. JEALOUSY CAN LED TO MANY SUCH MISADVENTURES. OR, WAS IT A TRUE TO LIFE CASE OF THE SUPERNATURAL MANIFESTATION, OF A FORMER SOLDIER, SEARCHING FOR HIS LOST HEAD.....THE RESULT OF BEING IN THE WAY OF CANNON FIRE, DURING AN UNNAMED BATTLE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. PLEASE READ ON:
     "AN OPENING IN THE TREES  CHEERED HIM WITH THE HOPE, THAT THE CHURCH BRIDGE WAS AT HAND," WROTE WASHINGTON IRVING, OF ICHABOD CRANE'S ILL FATED RIDE, AGAINST THE DARK APPARITION ON THE THUNDEROUSLY LARGE, GALLOPING STEED, IN THE FINAL PARAGRAPHS OF "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW."
     "THE WAVERING REFLECTION OF A SILVER STAR IN THE BOSOM OF THE BROOK, TOLD HIM THAT HE WAS NOT MISTAKEN. HE SAW THE WALLS OF THE CHURCH DIMLY GLARING UNDER THE TREES BEYOND. HE (ICHABOD) RECOLLECTED WHERE BROM BONES' GHOSTLY COMPETITOR HAD DISAPPEARED. 'IF I CAN BUT REACH THAT BRIDGE,' THOUGHT ICHABOD. 'I AM SAFE'. JUST THEN HE HEARD THE BLACK STEED PANTING AND BLOWING CLOSE BEHIND HIM; HE EVEN FANCIED THAT HE FELT HIS HOT BREATH. ANOTHER CONVULSIVE KICK IN THE RIBS, AND OLD GUNPOWDER SPRUNG UPON THE BRIDGE; HE THUNDERED OVER THE RESOUNDING PLANKS; HE GAINED THE OPPOSITE SIDE, AND NOW ICHABOD CAST A LOOK BEHIND, TO SEE IF HIS PURSUER SHOULD VANISH, ACCORDING TO RULE IN A FLASH OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE. JUST THEN HE SAW THE GOBLIN RISING IN HIS STIRRUPS, AND IN THE VERY ACT OF HURLING HIS HEAD AT HIM. ICHABOD ENDEAVOURED TO DODGE THE HORRIBLE MISSILE, BUT TOO LATE. IT ENCOUNTERED HIS CRANIUM WITH A TREMENDOUS CRASH - HE WAS TUMBLED HEADLONG INTO THE DUST, AND GUNPOWDER, THE BLACK STEED, AND THE GOBLIN RIDER, PASSED BY LIKE A WHIRLWIND," WROTE IRVING, OF THE TEACHER, HAVING BEEN KNOCKED VIOLENTLY OFF HIS MOUNT. BY OF ALL THINGS, A THROWN HEAD....WHICH TURNED OUT SOMEWHAT DIFFERENTLY UPON FINAL INSPECTION.
     "THE NEXT MORNING THE OLD HORSE WAS FOUND WITHOUT HIS SADDLE AND WITH THE BRIDLE UNDER HIS FEET, SOBERLY CROPPING THE GRASS AT HIS MASTER'S GATE. ICHABOD DID NOT MAKE HIS APPEARANCE AT BREAKFAST - DINNER HOUR CAME, BUT NO ICHABOD. THE BOYS ASSEMBLED AT THE SCHOOL-HOUSE, AND STROLLED IDLY ABOUT THE BANKS OF THE BROOK; BUT NO SCHOOL MASTER. HANS VAN RIPPER NOW BEGAN TO FEEL SOME UNEASINESS ABOUT THE FATE OF POOR ICHABOD, AND HIS SADDLE. AN INQUIRY WAS SET ON FOOT, AND AFTER DILIGENT INVESTIGATION, THEY CAME UPON HIS TRACES. IN ONE PART OF THE ROAD LEADING TO THE CHURCH, WAS FOUND THE SADDLE TRAMPLED IN THE DIRT; THE TRACKS OF HORSES' HOOFS DEEPLY DENTED IN THE ROAD, AND EVIDENTLY AT A FURIOUS SPEED, WERE TRACED TO THE BRIDGE BEYOND WHICH, ON THE BANK OF A BROAD PART OF THE BROOK, WHERE THE WATER RAN DEEP AND BLACK, WAS FOUND THE HAT OF THE UNFORTUNAE ICHABOD, AND CLOSE BESIDE IT, A PUMPKIN."
     THE AUTHOR REPORTS, "THE BROOK WAS SEARCHED, BUT THE BODY OF THE SCHOOL MASTER WAS NOT TO BE DISCOVERED. HANS VAN RIPPER, AS EXECUTOR OF HIS ESTATE, EXAMINED THE SADDLE, WHICH CONTAINED ALL HIS WORDLY EFFECTS. THEY CONSISTED OF TWO SHIRTS AND A HALF; TWO SOCKS FOR THE NECK; A PAIR OF TWO WORSTED STOCKINGS; AN OLD PAIR OF CORDUROY SMALL-CLOTHES; A RUSTY RAZOR; A BOOK OF PSALM TUNES FULL OF DOG'S EARS (FOLDED CORNERS); AND A BROKEN PITCH PIPE. AS TO THE BOOKS AND FURNITURE OF THE SCHOOL HOUSE, THEY BELONGED TO THE COMMUNITY, EXCEPTING COTTON MATHER'S HISTORY OF WITCHCRAFT, A NEW ENGLAND GLAND ALMANAC, AND A BOOK OF DREAMS AND FORTUNE-TELLING; IN WHICH LAST WAS A SHEET OF FOOLSCAP, MUCH SCRIBBLED AND BLOTTED BY SEVERAL FRUITLESS ATTEMPTS TO MAKE A COPY OF VERSES, IN HONOUR OF THE HEIRESS OF VAN TASSEL. THESE MAGIC BOOKS AND THE POETIC SCRAWL WERE FORTHRIGHT CONSIGNED TO THE FLAMES BY HANS VAN RIPPER; WHO FROM THAT TIME FORWARD, DETERMINED TO SEND HIS CHILDREN NO MORE TO SCHOOL; OBSERVING THAT HE NEVER KNEW ANY GOOD COME OF THIS SAME READING AND WRITING. WHATEVER MONEY THE SCHOOL MASTER POSSESSED, AND HE HAD RECEIVED HIS QUARTER'S PAY BUT A DAY OR TWO BEFORE, HE MUST HAVE HAD ABOUT HIS PERSON AT THE TIME OF HIS DISAPPEARANCE.
     "THE MYSTERIOUS EVENT CAUSED MUCH SPECULATION AT THE CHURCH ON THE FOLLOWING SUNDAY. KNOTS OF GAZERS AND GOSSIPS WERE COLLECTED IN THE CHURCHYARD, AT THE BRIDGE, AND AT THE SPOT WHERE THE HAT AND PUMPKIN HAD BEEN FOUND. THE STORIES OF BROUWER, BROM BONES AND A WHOLE BUDGET OF OTHERS, WERE CALLED TO MIND, AND WHEN THEY HAD DILLIGENTLY CONSIDERED THEM ALL, AND COMPARED THEM WITH THE SYMPTONS OF THE PRESENT CASE, THEY SHOOK THEIR HEADS, AND CAME TO THE CONCLUSION, THAT ICHABOD HAD BEEN CARRIED OFF BY THE GALLOPING HESSIAN. AS HE WAS A BACHELOR, AND IN NOBODY'S DEBT, NOBODY TROUBLED HIS HEAD ANY MORE ABOUT HIM; THE SCHOOL WAS REMOVED TO A DIFFERENT QUARTER OF THE HOLLOW, AND ANOTHER PEDAGOGUE REIGNED IN HIS STEAD.
     "IT IS TRUE, AN OLD FARMER, WHO HAD BEEN DOWN TO NEW YORK ON A VISIT SEVERAL YEARS AFTER, AND FROM WHOM THIS ACCOUNT OF THE GHOSTLY ADVENTURES WAS RECEIVED, BROUGHT HOME THE INTELLIGENE THAT ICHABOD CRANE WAS STILL ALIVE; THAT HE HAD LEFT THE NEIGHBOURHOOD, PARTLY THROUGH FEAR OF THE GOBLIN AND HANS VAN RIPPER, AND PARTLY IN MORTIFICATION AT HAVING BEEN SUDDENLY DISMISSED BY THE HEIRESS; THAT HE HAD CHANGED HIS QUARTERS TO A DISTANT PART OF THE COUNTRY; HAD KEPT SCHOOL AND STUDIED LAW AT THE SAME TIME; HAD BEEN ADMITTED TO THE BAR; TURNED POLITICIAN; ELECTIONEERED; WRITTEN FOR NEWSPAPERS; AND FINALLY HAD BEEN MADE A JUSTICE OF THE TEN POUND COURT. BROM BONES, TOO, WHO, SHORTLY AFTER HIS RIVAL'S DISAPPEARANCE, CONDUCTED THE BLOOMING KATRINA IN TRIUMPH TO THE ALTAR, WAS OBSERVED TO LOOK EXCEEDINGLY KNOWING WHENEVER THE STORY OF ICHABOD WAS RELATED, AND ALWAYS BURST INTO A HEARTY LAUGH AT THE MENTION OF THE PUMPKIN; WHICH LED SOME TO SUSPECT THAT HE KNEW MORE ABOUT THE MATTER THAN HE CHOSE TO TELL.
     "THE OLD COUNTRY WIVES, HOWEVER, WHO ARE THE BEST JUDGES OF THESE MATTERS, MAINTAIN TO THIS DAY, THAT ICHABOD WAS SPIRITED AWAY BY SUPERNATURAL MEANS; AND IT IS A FAVORITE STORY OFTEN TOLD ABOUT THE NEIGHBORHOOD ROUND THE WINTER EVENING FIRE. THE BRIDGE BECAME MORE THAN EVER AN OBJECT OF SUPERSTITIOUS AWE; AND THAT MAY BE THE REASON WHY THE ROAD HAS BEEN ALTERED OF LATE YEARS, SO AS TO APPROACH THE CHURCH BY THE BORDER OF THE MILL POND. THE SCHOOL HOUSE BEING DESERTED, SOON FELL TO DECAY, AND WAS REPORTED TO BE HAUNTED BY THE GHOST OF THE UNFORTUNATE PEDAGOGUE; AND THE PLOUGH-BOY, LOITERING HOMEWARD OF A STILL SUMMER EVENING, HAS OFTEN FANCIED HIS VOICE AT A DISTANCE, CHANTING A MELANCHOLY PSALM TUNE, AMONG THE TRANQUIL SOLITUDES OF SLEEPY HOLLOW."
     I HOPE ONE DAY, IN THE NOT TOO DISTANT FUTURE, THAT THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, WILL FIND REASON, AND INITIATIVE, TO ENGAGE THEMSELVES IN THE PROVENANCE OF WHICH THEY ARE ENTITLED. THANKS FOR JOINING TODAY'S BLOG.  AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN, IN KEEPING WITH THE SITUATION.

BRACEBRIDGE AND THE STORY THAT DIDN'T GET AWAY; WASHINGTON IRVING'S "LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW"

Sparrow Lake on October 30th -   An early morning photograph along the shores of Sparrow Lake between Kilworthy and Severn Bridge shows a tranquil mirror image on the water and a stillness in the morning mist beyond the marsh reeds. (Photo By Fred Schulz)

BRACEBRIDGE'S RIGHT OF ASSOCIATION, TO SHARE THE FAME - THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW

WHAT A LITERARY TREAT FOR THE CELEBRATION OF HALLOWEEN



     THURSDAY EVENING, WITH A PREDICTED WEATHER EVENT, TO INCLUDE ALL THE INDULGENCES OF LATE AUTUMN.... HOWLING WIND, HEAVY RAIN AND RANDOM BEWITCHING, REMINDS ONE OF THE OLD, OLD TALE, OF WASHINGTON IRVING'S HEADLESS HORSEMAN. TONIGHT WE PURCHASED A PLUMP PUMPKIN FOR SONS ANDREW AND ROBERT TO CARVE INTO SOMETHING MENACING, AND I PLAN TO HAVE IT ILLUMINATED ON A STAND NEAR MY CHAIR, ON HALLOWEEN, FOR MOOD ENHANCEMENT, IN ORDER TO READ "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW," FROM START TO FINISH. LIKE ICHABOD, I WILL NEED TO BE FEED THE SEASONAL FARE......WHICH THIS YEAR, WILL BE SQUASH SOUP BECAUSE SUZANNE JUST MADE THREE CARTONS TONIGHT. BIG SLICE OF FRESH BREAD, SQUASH SOUP, A SCARY PUMPKIN, AND WASHINGTON IRVING.  WOW. BRING IT ON....HESSIAN! SUZANNE TENDS THE DOOR. THE BOYS REMAIN AT THE STORE TO GUARD AGAINST THE FEARFUL EGG BARRAGE....AND I IMMERSE IN THE TRADITIONS OF OLD HALLOWEEN.

     "AS ICHABOD APPROACHED THIS FEARFUL (TULIP) TREE, HE BEGAN TO WHISTLE; HE THOUGHT HIS WHISTLE WAS ANSWERED; IT WAS BUT A BLAST SWEEPING SHARPLY THROUGH THE DRY BRANCHES. AS HE APPROACHED A LITTLE NEARER, HE THOUGHT HE SAW SOMETHING WHITE HANGING IN THE MIDST OF THE TREE; HE PAUSED, AND CEASED WHISTLING; BUT ON LOOKING MORE NARROWLY, PERCEIVED THAT IT WAS A PLACE WHERE THE TREE HAD BEEN SCATHED BY LIGHTNING, AND THE WHITE WOOD LAID BARE. SUDDENLY HE HEARD A GROAN - HIS TEETH CHATTERED AND HIS KNEES SMOTE AGAINST THE SADDLE; IT WAS BUT THE RUBBING OF SOME HUGE BOUGH UPON ANOTHER, AS THEY WERE SWAYED ABOUT BY THE BREEZE. HE PASSED THE TREE IN SAFETY, BUT NEW PERILS LAY BEFORE HIM," WROTE WASHINGTON IN "THE SKETCH BOOK," PUBLISHED IN 1819; THE STORY OF COURSE, IS "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW."
    THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, WAS NAMED OUT OF RESPECT FOR WASHINGTON IRVING'S SECOND BOOK OF SKETCHES, IN THE 1820'S, KNOWN THEN AS "BRACEBRIDGE HALL." IT WAS IN 1864 THAT CANADIAN POSTAL OFFICIAL, WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR, NAMED THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, AFTER IRVING'S INTERNATIONALLY RESPECTED BOOK. IF YOU MISSED THE FIRST TWO COLUMNS IN THIS SHORT SERIES, YOU CAN ARCHIVE BACK TO MONDAY'S BLOG. BEING NAMED AFTER THE WORK OF WASHINGTON IRVING, WAS INTENDED BY LESUEUR, TO BE A MEMORIAL HONOR TO THE AMERICAN WRITER, WHO HAD DIED SOME YEARS EARLIER. IT WAS LIKELY THAT NEW RELEASES OF HIS BOOKS, AFTER HIS DEATH, WOUND UP ON LESUEUR'S DESK, AS ONE OF OUR COUNTRY'S UP AND COMING LITERARY CRITICS. WHEN ASSOCIATE HISTORIANS, IN THE PAST, HAVE WRITTEN THAT "HE NAMED BRACEBRIDGE AFTER THE TITLE OF A BOOK HE WAS READING AT THE TIME," THEY OF COURSE, WERE CORRECT TO ASSUME THIS.....BUT THEY FAILED TO EXPLAIN WHY. LESUEUR WENT ON TO BECOME WELL KNOWN AS A LITERARY CRITIC, WITH REVIEWS PUBLISHED IN SOME OF THE MOST INFLUENTIAL PERIODICALS IN NORTH AMERICA; WHILE AT THE SAME TIME, DUTIFULLY BECOMING A SIGNIFICANT CANADIAN HISTORIAN. HIS DAY JOB, IN PART, INVOLVED NAMING HAMLET POST OFFICES THROUGHOUT CANADA.
     THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE HAS KNOWN FOR LONG AND LONG, ABOUT THIS IMPORTANT LITERARY CONNECTION, BUT HAS GENERALLY SHOWN LITTLE INTEREST IN DEVELOPING THE CONNECTION MORE FULLY. THIS I OFFERED THEM AT THE TURN OF THE NEW CENTURY, AS A LINK BETWEEN THE TOWN, AND THE IRVING MUSEUM, AT SUNNYSIDE, IN NEW YORK; SOMETHING I HAD ARRANGED PERSONALLY, AND AS AN EXTRA MEASURE, EVEN WROTE A SMALL BOOK ABOUT THE EXCITING, UNDER-UTILIZED RELATIONSHIP. THIS DIDN'T EXCITE THEM EITHER. OUR FAMILY EVEN WENT TO THE EXTENT OF HAVING A SMALL MUSEUM QUALITY EXHIBIT, OF WASHINGTON IRVING - WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR MATERIALS, (VISUALS) AVAILABLE FOR VIEWING, IN THE AUDITORIUM OF THE BRACEBRIDGE UNITED CHURCH....AT CHRISTMAS, AS A BOLSTER TO THE IDEA OF PROMOTING "BRACERBRIDGE HALL." THERE IS AN OUTSTANDING REFERENCE TO CHRISTMAS CELEBRATIONS, AT BRACEBRIDGE HALL, CONTAINED IN THIS BOOK, OF WHICH THE TOWN HAD THE RIGHTS OF PROVENANCE, TO FULLY EXPLOIT THE CONNECTION TO ONE OF THE WORLD'S BEST KNOWN AUTHORS. THERE HAVE BEEN BRACEBRIDGE HALL DINNERS IN THE PAST, BUT NOTHING THAT WOULD CONSTITUTE THE SEEDING OF A TRADITION. I THINK THIS HAS BEEN A TERRIBLE MISSED OPPORTUNITY, AND I REFLECT THIS EDITORIALLY WHENEVER I'M AFFORDED AN OPPORTUNITY.
     AS FOR "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW," IT WOULD BE A WONDERFUL OPPORTUNITY FOR THE BRACEBRIDGE BUSINESS COMMUNITY, AND AREA PUBLIC SCHOOLS, TO HAVE ADOPTED A WEEK LONG HALLOWEEN FESTIVAL, HONORING THE AUTHOR OF ONE OF THE BEST KNOWN STORIES OF THE PARANORMAL EVER WRITTEN......AND CELEBRATE THE PROVENANCE THEY WERE GIVEN BY ONE OF CANADA'S LEADING LITERARY REVIEWERS OF THE TIME. BUT JUST BECAUSE IT HASN'T BEEN EMBRACED, DOESN'T STOP A BLOGGER LIKE ME, FROM PRESENTING THE STORY, ABRIDGED AS IT MUST BE, FOR PURPOSES OF THIS BLOG. IT'S FOR READERS WHO LOVE OUR MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE STRAIGHT-UP......HISTORY ENJOYED FOR WHAT IT HAS BEEN, AND WHAT IT HAS MEANT EVER SINCE. I STILL REGRET THAT WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR HADN'T INCLUDED A WEE NOTE, BACK TO THE TOWN, IN AUGUST 1864, EXPLAINING WHY HE FELT THIS MEMORIAL TRIBUTE, WAS IMPORTANT TO THE FLEDGLING TOWN, BUILT ON THE EMBANKMENT OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER. BOY OH BOY, WOULD THAT HAVE BEEN EASIER TO WORK WITH, THAN THE COLD SELL TODAY.
     "ABOUT TWO HUNDRED YARDS FROM THE TREE, A SMALL BROOK CROSSED THE ROAD, AND RAN INTO A MARSHY AND THICKLY-WOODED GLEN, KNOWN BY THE NAME 'WILEY'S SWAMP'. A FEW ROUGH LOGS, LAID SIDE BY SIDE, SERVED FOR A BRIDGE OVER THIS STREAM. ON THAT SIDE OF THE ROAD WHERE THE BROOK ENTERED THE WOOD, A GROUP OF OAKS AND CHESTNUTS MATTED THICK WITH WILD GRAPE-VINES, THREW A CAVERNOUS GLOOM OVER IT. TO PASS THIS BRIDGE, WAS THE SEVERIST TRIAL. IT WAS AT THIS IDENTICAL SPOT THAT THE UNFORTUNATE (MAJOR) ANDRE WAS CAPTURED, AND UNDER THE COVERT OF THOSE CHESTNUTS AND VINES WERE THE STURDY YEOMEN CONCEALED WHO SURPRISED HIM. THIS HAS EVER SINCE BEEN CONSIDERED A HAUNTED STREAM, AND FEARFUL ARE THE FEELINGS OF A SCHOOL-BOY, WHO HAS TO PASS IT ALONE AFTER DARK," WROTE IRVING.
     "AS HE APPROACHED THE STREAM HIS HEART BEGAN TO THUMP; HE SUMMONED UP, HOWEVER, ALL HIS RESOLUTION, GAVE HIS HORSE HALF A SCORE OF KICKS IN THE RIBS, AND ATTEMPTED TO DASH BRISKLY ACROSS THE BRIDGE; BUT INSTEAD OF STARTING FORWARD, THE PERVERSE OLD ANIMAL MADE A LATERAL MOVEMENT, AND RAN BROADSIDE AGAINST THE FENCE. ICHABOD, WHOSE FEARS INCREASED WITH THE DELAY, JERKED THE REINS ON THE OTHER SIDE, AND KICKED LUSTILY WITH THE CONTRARY FOOT; IT WAS ALL IN VAIN; HIS STEED STARTED, IT IS TRUE, BUT IT WAS ONLY TO PLUNGE TO THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE ROAD INTO A THICKET OF BRAMBLES AND ALDER-BUSHES. THE SCHOOLMASTER NOW BESTOWED BOTH WHIP AND HEEL UPON THE STARVELING RIBS OF OLD GUNPOWDER, WHO DASHED FORWARDS, SNUFLING AND SNORTING, BUT CAME TO A STAND JUST BY THE BRIDGE, WITH A SUDDENNESS THAT HAD NEARLY SENT HIS RIDER SPRAWLING OVER HIS HEAD. JUST AT THIS MOMENT A PLASH TRAMP BY THE SIDE OF THE BRIDGE, CAUGHT THE SENSITIVE EAR OF ICHABOD. IN THE DARK SHADOW OF THE GROVE, ON THE MARGIN OF THE BROOK, HE BEHELD SOMETHING HUGE, MISSHAPEN, BLACK AND TOWERING. IT STIRRED NOT, BUT SEEMED GATHERED UP IN THE GLOOM LIKE SOME GIGANTIC MONSTER READY TO SPRING UPON THE TRAVELLER."
     THE SKETCH BOOK ACCOUNT, OF ICABOD'S FATEFUL NIGHT, CONTINUES: "THE HAIR OF THE AFFRIGHTED PEDAGOGUE ROSE UPON HIS HEAD WITH TERROR. WHAT WAS TO BE DONE? TO TURN AND FLY WAS NOW TOO LATE; AND BESIDES, WHAT CHANCE WAS THERE OF ESCAPING GHOST OR GOBLIN, IF SUCH IT WAS, WHICH COULD RIDE UPON THE WINGS OF THE WIND? SUMMONING UP, THEREFORE, A SHOW OF COURAGE, HE DEMANDED IN STAMMERING ACCENTS, 'WHO ARE YOU?' HE RECEIVED NO REPLY. HE REPEATED HIS DEMAND IN A STILL MORE AGITATED VOICE. STILL THERE WAS NO ANSWER. ONCE MORE HE CUDGELLED THE SIDES OF THE INFLEXIBLE GUNPOWDER, AND SHUTTING HIS EYES, BROKE FORTH WITH INVOLUNTARY FERVOUR, INTO A PSALM TUNE. JUST THEN THE SHADOWY OBJECT OF ALARM PUT ITSELF IN MOTION, AND WITH A SCRAMBLE AND A BOUND, STOOD AT ONCE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. THOUGH THE NIGHT WAS DARK AND DISMAL, YET THE FORM OF THE UNKNOWN MIGHT NOW IN SOME DEGREE, BE ASCERTAINED. HE APPEARED TO BE A HORSEMAN OF LARGE DIMENSIONS AND MOUNTED ON A BLACK HORSE OF POWERFUL FRAME. HE MADE NO OFFER OF MOLESTATION OR SOCIABILITY, BUT KEPT ALOOF ON ONE SIDE OF THE ROAD, JOGGING ALONG ON THE BLIND SIDE OF OLD GUNPOWDER, WHO HAD NOW GOT OVER HIS FRIGHT AND WAYWARDNESS."
     EVERY ONE OF US, AT SOME POINT IN OUR LIFE'S JOURNEY, HAS FOUND OURSELVES IN A SIMILARLY UNSETTLING SITUATION, AS THE GOOD MR. CRANE. MAYBE WE HAVE COME UPON SOMETHING WE MIGHT HAVE BELIEVED TO BE AN APPARITION, HOVERING IN A DOORWAY; OR WITNESSED WHAT APPEARED TO BE A VICTORIAN WOMAN, WALKING  THROUGH A LOCAL CEMETERY, SUDDENLY VANISHING INTO THIN AIR, UPON YOUR APPROACH.....SUCH THAT ONE QUESTIONS THE SENSES. MAYBE IT WAS THE CASE WE WERE FRIGHTENED, WHILE ON A PASSIVE COUNTRYSIDE HIKE, WHEN WE HEARD AN ANIMAL THRASHING IN THE UNDERBRUSH, FEARING THAT A BEAR MIGHT BE FLEXING FOR AN ATTACK. THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT, UNSETTLE THE NERVES, AND ENGAGE OUR IMAGINATIONS.
     I WAS IN SUCH A SITUATION ONCE, WHEN ON MY WAY HOME, ON A MIDNIGHT HIKE, TO A COTTAGE LOCATED ON THE EXTENSION OF BEAUMONT DRIVE, IN BRACEBRIDGE, I WAS STOPPED AT THE INTERSECTION TO KIRBY'S BEACH, BY THE STRANGE APPEARANCE OF A WOLF. ONLY ONE THANKFULLY. I HAD NO WEAPON TO THWART AN ATTACK EXCEPT MY BARE HANDS. THERE WERE NO NEARBY RESIDENCES TO SEEK ASSISTANCE, AND YELLING WOULD HAVE SERVED LITTLE PURPOSE, AT THAT POINT, OTHER THAN TO POSSIBLY, BUT NOT LIKELY, SCARE OFF THE LONE WOLF. THERE WAS ENOUGH MOONLIGHT, TO SEE THE ANIMAL CLEARLY, STANDING IN MY WAY. IT GROWLED, BARED ITS TEETCH, AND BEGAN TO MOVE AROUND ME, BUT NEVER TRIED TO CLOSE THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US. I MOVED IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION, SO THAT I EVENTUALLY GAINED OPEN ROAD TO THE BEAUMONT FARM, LESS THAN HALF A KILOMETRE WEST. THE WOLF, OF SUBSTANTIAL SIZE AND WEIGHT, NEVER TOOK ITS EYES OFF ME, AND I NEVER LOST MY PERSPECTIVE EITHER. AFTER A MINUTE OR SO OF SHIFTING LOCATIONS, THE WOLF STOOD WHERE I HAD BEGUN THE SHOWDOWN, AND I WAS NOW UNOBSTRUCTED ON MY ESCAPE ROUTE. I KNEW IT WAS POINTLESS TO ATTEMPT TO OUTRUN THE WOLF, SO I JUST CONTINUED TO ACT INDIFFERENT, SHOWING NO SIGNS OF FEAR. I WAS SCARED TO DEATH HOWEVER, BECAUSE I WAS SURE OTHER WOLVES WERE IN THE VICINITY. WE STOOD STARING EYE TO EYE, AND WITHOUT WARNING, THE ANIMAL MADE WHAT APPEARED TO BE A LUNGE FORWARD, SENDING ME BACK, AND THEN IN THE SAME SUCCESSION OF MOVEMENTS, TURNED AWAY ALMOST AS IF IT HAD BEEN SCARED AWAY BY SOMETHING ELSE. POSSIBLY MY GUARDIAN ANGEL THWACKED IT ON THE END OF ITS NOSE. I DON'T KNOW, BUT I RAN ALL THE WAY HOME AFTER THAT ENCOUNTER. SO HOW ABOUT YOU? DO REMEMBER TIMES WHEN, ALL OF A SUDDEN, YOUR SENSE OF SECURITY AND NORMALCY WAS SHATTERED, BY SOME UNEXPECTED, UNEXPLAINED INTERVENTION....BENIGN OR OF SOME PARANORMAL QUALITY, NEVER FULLY EXPLAINED? MOST CAN BE EXPLAINED. SOME REMAIN LIFE-LONG MYSTERIES.
     "ICHABOD, WHO HAD NO RELISH FOR THIS STRANGE MIDNIGHT COMPANION, AND BETHOUGHT HIMSELF OF THE ADVENTURE OF BROM BONES, WITH THE GALLOPING HESSIAN, NOW QUICKENED HIS STEED IN HOPES OF LEAVING HIM BEHIND." WRITES IRVING OF MR. CRANE'S EXIT FROM WHAT HE BELIEVED WAS IMMINENT PERIL. "THE STRANGER HOWEVER, QUIKENED HIS HORSE TO AN EQUAL PACE. ICHABOD PULLED UP, AND FELL INTO A WALK, THINKING TO LAG BEHIND - THE OTHER DID THE SAME. HIS HEART BEGAN TO SINK WITHIN HIM; HE ENDEAVOURED TO RESUME HIS PSALM TUNE, BUT HIS PARCHED TONGUE CLOVE TO THE ROOF OF HIS MOUTH, AND HE COULD NOT UTTER A STAVE. THERE WAS SOMETHING IN THE MOODY AND DOGGED SILENCE OF HIS PERTINACIOUS COMPANION THAT WAS MYSTERIOUS, AND APPALLING. IT WAS SOON FEARFULLY ACCOUNTED FOR. ON MOUNTING A RISING GROUND WHICH BROUGHT THE FIGURE OF HIS FELLOW-TRAVELLER IN RELIEF AGAINST THE SKY, GIGANTIC IN HEIGHT, AND MUFFLED IN A CLOAK. ICHABOD WAS HORROR-STRUCK, ON PERCEIVING THAT HE WAS HEADLESS, BUT HIS HORROR WAS STILL MORE INCREASED, ON OBSERVING THE HEAD, WHICH SHOULD HAVE RESTED ON HIS SHOULDERS, WAS CARRIED BEFORE HIM ON THE POMMEL OF HIS SADLE! HIS TERROR ROSE TO DESPARATION; HE RAINED A SHOWER OF KICKS AND BLOWS UPON GUNPOWDER, HOPING, BY A SUDDEN MOVEMENT, TO GIVE HIS COMPANION THE SLIP - BUT THE SPECTRE STARTED A FULL JUMP WITH HIM. AWAY, THEN, THEY DASHED THROUGH THICK AND THIN; STONES FLYING AND SPARKS FLASHING AT EVERY BOUND. ICHABOD'S FLIMSY GARMENTS FLUTTERED OVER HIS HORSE'S HEAD, IN THE EAGERNESS OF HIS FLIGHT.
    "THEY HAD NOW REACHED THE ROAD WHICH TURNS OFF TO SLEEPY HOLLOW; BUT GUNPOWDER, WHO SEEMED POSSESSED WITH A DEMON, INSTEAD OF KEEPING UP,  MADE AN OPPOSITE TURN, AND PLUNGED HEADLONG DOWN HILL TO THE LEFT. THIS ROAD LEADS THROUGH A SANDY HOLLOW, SHADED BY TREES FOR ABOUT A QUARTER OF A MILE, WHERE IT CROSSES THE BRIDGE FAMOUS IN GOBLIN STORY; AND JUST BEYOND THE SWELL, THE GREEN KNOLL, ON WHICH STANDS THE WHITEWASHED CHURCH.
     "AS YET THE PANIC OF THE STEED HAD GIVEN HIS UNSKILLFUL RIDER AN APPARENT ADVANTAGE IN THE CHASE; BUT JUST AS HE HAD GOT HALFWAY THROUGH THE HOLLOW, THE GIRTHS OF THE SADDLE GAVE WAY, AND HE FELT IT SLIPPING FROM UNDER HIM. HE SEIZED IT BY THE POMMEL AND ENDEAVOURED TO HOLD IT FIRM, BUT IN VAIN; AND HAD JUST TIME TO SAVE HIMSELF BY CLASPING OLD GUNPOWDER ROUND THE NECK, WHEN THE SADDLE FELL TO THE EARTH, AND HE HEARD IT TRAMPLED UNDER FOOT BY HIS PURSUER. FOR A MOMENT OF TERROR OF HANS VAN RIPPER'S WRATH, PASSED ACROSS HIS MIND - FOR IT WAS HIS SUNDAY SADDLE; BUT THIS WAS NO TIME FOR PETTY FEARS; THE GOBLIN WAS HARD ON HIS HAUNCHES; AND UNSKILLED RIDER THAT HE WAS, HE HAD MUCH ADO TO MAINTAIN HIS SEAT; SOMETIMES SLIPPING ON ONE SIDE, SOMETIMES TO ANOTHER, AND SOMETIMES, JOLTED ON THE HIGH RIDGE OF HIS HORSE'S BACKBONE, WITH A VIOLENCE THAT HE VERILY FEARED WOULD CLEAVE HIM ASUNDER."
     PLEASE REJOIN THE STORY OF ICHABOD CRANE, AND HIS TERROR-FILLED RIDE FROM THE MENANCE OF THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN, IN TOMORROW'S PART THREE OF "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW."
     THANKS SO MUCH FOR KEEPING ME COMPANY. THERE'S MUCH MORE TO COME.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN.

BRACEBRIDGE, WASHINGTON IRVING, AND THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW; WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR?

A Visit to the Ullswater / Bent River Anglican Cemetery

 

A beautiful peaceful fall morning at the Bent River Anglican Cemetery with a wealth of history of the early pioneers of the area and also the final resting spot of Country Legend Smiley Bates. 

(Photo By Fred Schulz)

BRACEBRIDGE CIRCA 1864- DID THE SETTLERS KNOW WHO WASHINGTON IRVING WAS - OR HAD THEY HEARD OF "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW"

AMERICAN CIVIL WAR - A NEW NAME FOR "NORTH FALLS"

     AYE, IT'S LOOKING LIKE AN OLD FASHIONED HALLOWEEN'S COMING DOWN THE PIKE.....WITH ALL THE BELLS AND WHISTLES MOTHER NATURE HAS TO OFFER. ACCORDING TO PRELIMINARY REPORTS, THERE WILL BE A MAJOR WEATHER EVENT FOR THAT SPECIAL, HAUNTED EVENING TO END OCTOBER. IT'S EXPECTED TO BE A BLUSTERY HALLOWEEN THIS YEAR. BETTER DRESS FOR COLD, RAIN, AND WIND. SO IF YOU WERE PLANNING ON BEING A GHOST, MAKE SURE THE SHEET DOESN'T BECOME A SAIL....OR YOU'LL BE GONE, "UP, UP AND AWAY," AS THE SONG SAYS.

     "IN THE BOSOM OF ONE OF THOSE SPACIOUS COVES WHICH INDENT THE EASTERN SHORE OF THE HUDSON, AT THAT BROAD EXPANSION OF THE RIVER, DENOMINATED BY THE ANCIENT DUTCH NAVIGATORS THE TAPPAAN ZEE, AND WHERE THEY ALWAYS PRUDENTLY SHORTENED SAIL, AND IMPLORED THE PROTECTION OF ST. NICHOLAS, WHEN THEY CROSSED, THERE LIES A SMALL MARKET TOWN OF RURAL PORT, WHICH BY SOME IS CALLED GREENSBURG BUT WHICH IS MORE GENERALLY AND PROPERLY KNOWN BY THE NAME OF TARRY TOWN. THIS NAME WAS GIVEN IT, WE ARE TOLD, IN FORMER DAYS, BY THE GOOD HOUSEWIVES OF THE ADJACENT COUNTRY, FROM THE INVETERATE PROSPERITY OF THEIR HUSBANDS, TO LINGER ABOUT THE VILLAGE TAVERN ON MARKET DAYS. BE THAT AS IT MAY, I DO NOT VOUCH FOR THE FACT, BUT MERELY ADVERT TO IT, FOR THE SAKE OF BEING PRECISE AND AUTHENTIC. NOT FAR FROM THIS VILLAGE, PERHAPS ABOUT THREE MILES, THERE IS A LITTLE VALLEY, OR RATHER LAP OF LAND AMONG HIGH HILLS, WHICH IS ONE OF THE QUIETEST PLACES IN THE WHOLE WORLD. A SMALL BROOK GLIDES THROUGH IT, WITH JUST MURMUR ENOUGH TO LULL ONE TO REPOSE; AND THE OCCASIONAL WHISTLE OF A QUAIL OR TAPPING OF A WOODPECKER, IS ALMOST THE ONLY SOUND THAT EVER BREAKS IN UPON THE UNIFORM TRANQUILITY."
     THIS IS THE OPENING OF WASHINGTON IRVING'S BEST KNOWN SHORT STORY; "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW," PUBLISHED IN AND AROUND 1819, IN THE COLLECTED STORIES KNOWN AS "THE SKETCH BOOK," AS "FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER."
     "THE LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING WAS ONE OF THE BRIGHTEST EVER LED BY AN AUTHOR. HE DISCOVERED HIS GENIUS AT AN EARLY AGE; WAS GRACIOUSLY WELCOMED BY HIS COUNTRYMEN; ANSWERED THE LITERARY CONDITIONS OF THE PERIOD WHEN HE APPEARED; WON EASILY, AND AS EASILY KEPT, A DISTINGUISHED PLACE IN THE REPUBLIC OF LETTERS; WAS GENEROUSLY REWARDED FOR HIS WORK; CHARMED HIS CONTEMPORARIES BY HIS AMIABILITY AND MODESTY; LIVED LONG, WISELY, HAPPILY, AND DIED AT A RIPE OLD AGE, IN THE FULLNESS OF HIS POWER AND HIS FAME. HE NEVER LEARNED THE MOURNFUL TRUTH WHICH THE LIVES OF SO MANY AUTHORS FORCE UPON US: 'SLOW RISES WORTH, BY POVERTY DEPRESSED;' HE NEVER FELT THE ILLS WHICH SO OFTEN ASSAIL THE SOULS OF SCHOLARS; 'TOIL, ENVY, WANT, THE POISON AND THE JAIL;' HE NEVER WROTE FOR HIS BREAD LIKE (BEN) JOHNSON AND (OLIVER) GOLDSMITH, AND NEVER HUNGERED LIKE OTWAY AND CHATTERTON; BUT LIVED IN LEARNED CASE, SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS, MASTER OF HIMSELF AND HIS TIME - A PROSPEROUS GENTLEMAN. BORN UNDER A LUCKY STAR, ALL GOOD THINGS SOUGHT HIM OUT, AND WERE TURNED BY HIM TO DELIGHTFUL USES. HE MADE THE WORLD HAPPIER BY HIS GIFTS AND THE WORLD HONORS HIS MEMORY."
     THE FOLLOWING WAS OFFERED, AS A BRIEF BIOGRAPHY, IN THE 1893 COLLECTED WORKS OF WASHINGTON IRVING, BY WELL KNOWN AUTHOR, RICHARD HENRY STODDARD. THE BOOKS WERE FOUND AT AN HISTORIC FARMSTEAD, IN BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, AT AN AUCTION IN THE MID 1980'S, FOR THE EWING FAMILY OF ZISKA ROAD. THEY WERE AMONG HUNDREDS OF OLD BOOKS I PURCHASED AT THE FARM SALE, WHICH WAS ONE OF THE MOST REMARKABLE I'D EVER ATTENDED AS AN ANTIQUE DEALER.
     IN 1864, WHEN POSTAL AUTHORITY (HISTORIAN AND LITERARY CRITIC), WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR, REJECTED THE NAME "NORTH FALLS," AND SELECTED THE NAME "BRACEBRIDGE" INSTEAD, WERE CITIZENS IN THE TINY RIVERSIDE HAMLET, AWARE OF THE PROVENANCE OF THE CHOSEN NAME? THOSE WHO UNDERSTOOD AND APPRECIATED THE PARALLEL? CONSIDERING THAT "THE SKETCH BOOK," AND THE BOOK "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," WERE POPULAR TITLES EVEN BY THE MID 1820'S, IT'S TO BE EXPECTED THAT SOME OF THE SETTLERS, WHO HAD SOME BASIC SCHOOLING, WOULD HAVE KNOWN THE NAME WASHINGTON IRVING. THE QUESTION MORE SO, IS WHETHER ANY OF THE CITIZENS, AT THE TIME, QUESTIONED THE NAME "BRACEBRIDGE" IN THE FIRST PLACE; OR HAD ANY REAL CONCERN, ABOUT  WHY, THE TITLE "NORTH FALLS" HAD BEEN DROPPED AS THE NAME OF THE HAMLET? WAS THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT PROTEST ABOUT THE POST OFFICE'S INTERFERENCE, OR WAS IT SIMPLY THE CASE, THERE WAS TOO MUCH ELSE TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT, IN TERMS OF BASIC SURVIVAL, TO GET EMOTIONAL ABOUT THE SIGN TO BE RAISED OVER THE PIONEER POST OFFICE?
     YET WE HAVE TO ASSUME THAT SOME OF THE EARLY MOVERS AND SHAKERS, WHO DESIRED THE NAME NORTH FALLS, DID APPRECIATE THE WASHINGTON IRVING CONNECTION, AND THE IRONY OF AN AMERICAN WRITER'S BOOK, BEING ADOPTED AS THE NAME OF A FLEDGLING CANADIAN COMMUNITY, DURING THE CLOSING YEARS OF THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR. CONSIDER THE FACT THAT CITY NEWSPAPERS, WERE MAKING IT TO THE SETTLEMENTS IN MUSKOKA, VIA THE MAIL, AS WE KNOW FOR FACT, THAT ONE MEMBER OF THE SHEA FAMILY, FROM THE TINY FARM COMMUNITY, IN UFFORD (THREE MILE LAKE), WAS GETTING A MONTREAL NEWSPAPER, CIRCA 1864, THAT HE HAD TO PICK UP AT THE SOUTH FALLS POST OFFICE......A HELL OF A LONG CANOE PADDLE FROM HIS LOG CABIN. SO THE INHABITANTS OF THIS REGION OF MUSKOKA, EVEN BEFORE THE FREE LAND GRANTS OF THE LATE 1860'S, HAD ACCESS TO THE NEWS OF THE WORLD, AND WHAT WAS GOING ON IN AMERICA AT THIS TIME. WAS THERE CONCERN THE BATTLE COULD PUSH NORTHWARD? CONCERN ABOUT WHETHER THE VICTORS, OF THE NORTH-SOUTH CONFLICT, WOULD THEN TURN THEIR ATTENTION ON CANADA? WHO REALLY KNOWS, BECAUSE NOTHING WAS DOCUMENTED, TO SUGGEST THIS KIND OF CONCERN, UNREST, OR PROTEST, ABOUT THE AMERICAN INFILTRATION OF LITERATURE, FOISTED ON AN UNSUSPECTING, NORTHERN HAMLET. TRUTH IS, THE STORY OF "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," IS ACTUALLY ABOUT IRVING'S STAY IN ENGLAND, AND VERY MUCH, A PROTESTATION, OF AMERICA TURNING ITS BACK ON THE MOTHERLAND, AND ITS TRADITIONS, AS A RESULT OF THE SPLIT CAUSED BY THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. IRVING ARGUED THAT THE AFTERMATH OF A WAR, DIDN'T JUSTIFY SEVERING ALL RELATIONS WITH ANCESTRAL AND CULTURAL REALITIES, AND ALL ITS CHARMING CHARACTERISTICS AND INHERENT TRADITIONS. SO BRACEBRIDGE HALL IS VERY MUCH A BRITISH CULTURAL PROMOTION, AND THUS, ACTUALLY WORKED PRETTY WELL AS A TRIBUTE TO A FLEDGLING SETTLEMENT IN SOUTH MUSKOKA, AS A MAJORITY OF THE FIRST SETTLERS WERE OF BRITISH NATIONALITY.
     LESUEUR WAS CLEVER THIS WAY, AND THOUGHT THE COMMUNITY WOULD GROW TO BE PROUD OF THE PROVENANCE OF A NAME, AND THE AUTHOR WHO MADE IT A LEGENDARY ONE IN WORLD LITERATURE.
     THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, HOWEVER, OPTED INSTEAD, TO ALLIGN ITSELF AS A SISTER COMMUNITY, TO THE LINCOLNSHIRE MUNICIPALITY OF BRACEBRIDGE, IN ENGLAND INSTEAD, IN THE EARLY 1990'S, EVEN THOUGH THERE WAS NO HISTORIC RELATIONSHIP IN THE NAME. LESUEUR ADMITED, DURING A BRIEF INTERVIEW, SHORTLY BEFORE HIS DEATH, THAT HE HAD INDEED BORROWED IRVING'S TITLE, TO NAME "BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO." ALTHOUGH THERE HAS BEEN SOME WILD SPECULATION OVER THE YEARS, INCLUDING THE OFTEN SPUN YARN, THAT THE NAME HAD BEEN INSPIRED BY THE EXPANSE OF SILVER BRIDGE, ACROSS THE CATARACT OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER....."BRACE" AND "BRIDGE." JUST NOT SO.
     SO DESPITE YEARS OF AVOIDANCE AND CONTRARY DEBATE, AND THE REFUSAL OF THE COMMUNITY LEADERSHIP TO EXPLORE MORE THOROUGHLY, THE PROSPERITY AND GOODWILL, ATTACHED TO THE NAME WASHINGTON IRVING, I BECAME, CIRCA 1998-99, THE FIRST HISTORIAN-ADVOCATE IN MUSKOKA, DEMANDING A NEW CENTURY RELATIONSHIP WITH WASHINGTON IRVING. HISTORIANS WITH PENS CAN DO THESE THINGS WITHOUT A MAYOR'S EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION....AND I'VE GONE THROUGH A FEW MAYORS IN MY DAY. AND I'VE HAD TO STEP OVER A FEW HISTORIANS ON THE WAY. IT'S WHY I DON'T GET INVITED TO THE ANNUAL HISTORIANS' BALL. BUT BECAUSE I BELIEVE BRACEBRIDGE HAS MADE THE MISTAKE OF IGNORING THIS HISTORIC RELATIONSHIP, WITH ONE OF THE BEST KNOWN AUTHORS IN THE WORLD, (BECAUSE OF THAT ORIGINAL REFUSAL OF "NORTH FALLS,") I CAN NEVER, IN GOOD CONSCIENCE, ABANDON THIS PROVENANCE.....EVER.....UNTIL LIKE IRVING AND LESUEUR, I TOO, HAVE BECOME AN ETCHED NAME ON THE TOMBSTONE, IN THE FAMILY PLOT....."PUSHING UP THE DAISIES!"
     SO WITHOUT HAVING BEEN COMMISSIONED TO DO SO, HERE IS JUST ONE OF MANY JOYS OF BEING CONNECTED TO THE LEGACY OF WASHINGTON IRVING....."THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW." I HAVE NOT RE-PUBLISHED THE STORY IN FULL, BECAUSE IT WOULD TAKE MANY MORE DAYS TO DO SO.......AND IT WAS IRVING'S WORK AFTERALL....NOT MINE. SO I'VE FOUND KEY PASSAGES TO INFILL THE SPLENDIDLY HAUNTED TALE OF A TEACHER AND THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. (WITH THE HOPE THAT ONE DAY, BRACEBRIDGE BUSINESSES WILL BAND TOGETHER AND HOST A WEEK LONG CELEBRATION OF THIS STORY, OF WHICH THEY ARE INHERENTLY BLESSED, AND ENTITLED, BY AUTHOR ASSOCIATION)
     "FROM THE LISTLESS REPOSE OF THE PLACE, AND THE PECULIAR CHARACTER OF ITS INHABITANTS, WHO ARE DESCENDANTS FROM THE ORIGINAL DUTCH SETTLERS, THIS SEQUESTERED GLEN HAS LONG BEEN KNOWN BY THE NAME OF 'SLEEPY HOLLOW,' AND ITS RUSTIC LADS ARE CALLED THE 'SLEEPY HOLLOW BOYS,' THROUGHOUT ALL THE NEIGHBOURING COUNTRY. A DROWSY, DREAMY INFLUENCE SEEMS TO HANG OVER THE LAND, AND TO PERVADE THE VERY ATMOSPHERE. SOME SAY THAT THE PLACE WAS BEWITCHED BY A HIGH GERMAN DOCTOR, DURING THE EARLY DAYS OF THE SETTLEMENT; OTHERS THAT AN OLD INDIAN CHIEF, THE PROPHET OR WIZARD OF HIS TRIBE, HELD HIS OWN POW-WOW; THERE BEFORE THE COUNTRY WAS DISCOVERED BY MASTER HENDRICK HUDSON. CERTAIN IT IS, THE PLACE STILL CONTINUES UNDER THE SWAY OF SOME WITCHING POWER, THAT HOLDS A SPELL OVER THE MINDS OF THE GOOD PEOPLE CAUSING THEM TO WALK IN CONTINUAL REVERIE. THEY ARE GIVEN TO ALL KINDS OF MARVELLOUS BELIEFS; ARE SUBJECT TO TRANCES AND VISIONS, AND FREQUENTLY SEE STRANGE SIGHTS AND HEAR MUSIC AND VOICES IN THE AIR. THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD ABOUNDS WITH LOCAL TALES, HAUNTED SPOTS AND TWILIGHT SUPERSTITIONS; STARS SHOOT AND METEORS GLARE OFTENER ACROSS THE VALLEY THAN IN ANY OTHER PART OF THE COUNTRY, AND THE NIGHT-MARE, WITH HER WHOLE NINE FOLD, SEEMS TO MAKE IT THE FAVORITE SCENE OF HER GAMBOLS."
     I CAN SO CLEARLY REMEMBER, OUR FIRST FEW MOMENTS IN BRACEBRIDGE, WHEN WE ARRIVED AS A DESTITUTE FAMILY, FLEEING THE CITY FOR A NEW LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. IT WAS THE SPRING OF 1966, AND MY FATHER ED, HAD JUST ACCEPTED A POSITON WITH BRACEBRIDGE'S "SHIER'S LUMBER COMPANY," ONE OF THE AREA'S BEST KNOWN BUILDING SUPPLY COMPANIES. WE HAD EXPERIENCED CAR PROBLEMS ON THE WAY NORTH, AND A FLAT TIRE JUST SOUTH OF BRACEBRIDGE, THAT VERY NEARLY SENT US CAREENING INTO MUSKOKA ROCK AT ROADSIDE. TIRED FROM OUR TRAVEL NORTHWARD, IN A BEAT UP JALOPY, A VAUXHALL, WE ARRIVED OVER THE SILVER BRIDGE, STARING UP THE MAIN STREET OF OUR NEW TOWN, LOOKING AT THE HISTORIC CLOCK TOWER OF THE OLD FEDERAL BUILDING, AND MY MOTHER MERLE, WITH A LONG, CONTENTED SIGH, SAID, WE ARE HOME....THIS IS OUR "SLEEPY HOLLOW." IT WASN'T ALL THAT PROFOUND AT THE TIME, BECAUSE WE WERE JUST TOO TIRED TO UNDERSTAND HOW PROPHETIC HER STATEMENT WAS.....AND SHE DIDN'T KNOW THE DEPTH OF HER OWN FAMILY ANCESTRY THEN, THAT LOW AND BEHOLD, WAS ROOTED IN THAT SAME AREA OF THE HUDSON RIVER VALLEY. SHE WAS KINFOLK OF THE VANDERVOORT FAMILES, OF HOLLAND, WHO HAD BEEN AMONGST THE FIRST SETTLERS OF THE PRESENT STATE OF NEW YORK. I SUPPOSE THIS IS ANOTHER REASON I CONTINUE TO DRAW INSPIRATION FROM IRVING'S TALES, GROWN FROM THE SAME REGION OF PIONEER AMERICA.
     IN THE WORDS OF WASHINGTON IRVING, AND WITH THE COVER OF THE BOOK OPENED TO THE PAGE, WHERE SOME OTHER READER LEFT OFF, IN THE LATE EVENING OF A PAST HALLOWEEN; WE RETURN TO SLEEPY HOLLOW, AND THE GOOD FOLKS' BELIEF IN THE APPARITION KNOWN, AS THE "HEADLESS HORSEMAN," THE HESSIAN TROOPER WHO HAD LOST HIS HEAD IN A REVOLUTIONARY WAR BATTLE....AND HAD BEEN BURIED WITHOUT, IN A CHURCHYARD PLOT.....WHERE IT IS SAID, HE RISES ON MOONLIT NIGHTS LIKE THIS, TO SEEK OUT WHAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO HIM.
     IRVING'S CHARACTER, ICHABOD CRANE, THE NEW SCHOOL TEACHER TO THE VILLAGE OF SLEEPY HOLLOW, CARRIED AFFECTIONS FOR THE DAUGHTER OF ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT MEN OF THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY, AND BY SHOWING HIS AFFECTIONS, HAD GOT UNCOMFORTABLY IN THE WAY, OF HER MORE AGGRESSIVE, CAPABLE ADMIRER, BROM BONES, WHO IT IS SAID, WOULD GO TO ANY LENGTH TO WIN THE SUBJECT OF HIS AFFECTIONS.....INCLUDING THE DISPATCHING OF THE PEDAGOGUE, THE WEAK KNEED, CLUMSY, ANNOYING, GREEDY, MR. CRANE. BUT DID THIS MANIFEST AS AN EFFORT BY A JEALOUS SUITOR, OR WAS THE HESSIAN A PARANORMAL A REAL FORCE OF THE SUPERNATURAL, TO BE RECKONED WITH?
     "IT WAS AS I HAVE SAID, A FINE AUTUMNAL DAY; THE SKY WAS CLEAR AND SERENE, AND NATURE WORE THAT RICH AND GOLD LIVERY WHICH WE ALWAYS ASSOCIATE WITH THE IDEA OF ABUNDANCE. THE FORESTS HAD PUT ON THEIR SOBER BROWN AND YELLOW, WHILE SOME TREES OF THE TENDERER KIND, HAD BEEN NIPPED BY THE FROSTS INTO BRILLIANT DYES OF ORANGE, PURPLE AND SCARLET. STREAMING FILES OF WILD DUCKS BEGAN TO MAKE THEIR APPEARANCE HIGH IN THE AIR; THE BARK OF THE SQUIRREL MIGHT BE HEARD FROM THE GROVES OF BEECH AND HICKORY-NUTS, AND THE PENSIVE WHISTLE OF THE QUAIL, AT INTERVALS FROM THE NEIGHBORING STUBBLE FIELD," WROTE IRVING.
     "THE SMALL BIRDS WERE TAKING THEIR FAREWELL BANQUETS. IN THE FULNESS OF THEIR REVELRY, THEY FLUTTERED CHIRPING AND FROLICKING FROM BUSH TO BUSH, AND TREE TO TREE, CAPRICIOUS FROM THE VERY PROFUSING AND VARIETY AROUND THEM. THERE WAS THE VERY HONEST COCK-ROBIN, THE FAVOURITE GAME OF STRIPLING SPORTSMEN, WITH ITS LOUD QUERILOUS NOTE, AND THE TWITTERING BLACKBIRDS FLYING IN SABLE CLOUDS; AND THE GOLDEN WINGED WOODPECKER, WITH HIS CRIMSON CREST, HIS BROAD BLACK GORGET, AND SPLENDID PLUMAGE; AND THE CEDAR-BIRD, WITH ITS RED-TIPT WINGS AND YELLOW-TIPT TAIL, AND HIS LITTLE MONTEIRO CAP OF FEATHERS; AND THE BLUE JAY, THAT NOISY COXCOMB, IN HIS GAY LIGHT BLUE COAT AND WHITE UNDERCLOTHES, SCREAMING AND CHATTERING, NODDING, AND BOBBING, AND BOWING, AND PRETENDING TO BE ON GOOD TERMS WITH EVERY SONGSTER OF THE GROVE.
     "AS ICHABOD JOGGED SLOWLY ON HIS WAY, HIS EYE, EVER OPEN TO EVERY SYMPTON OF CULINARY ABUNDANCE, RANGED WITH DELIGHT OVER THE TREASURES OF JOLLY AUTUMN. ON ALL SIDES HE BEHELD VAST STORE OF APPLES, SOME HANGING IN OPPRESSIVE OPULENCE ON THE TREES; SOME GATHERED INTO BASKETS AND BARRELS FOR THE MARKET; OTHERS HEAPED UP IN RICH PILES FOR THE CIDER-PRESS. FARTHER ON HE BEHELD GREAT FIELDS OF INDIAN CORN, WITH ITS GOLDEN EARS PEEPING FROM THEIR LEAFY COVERTS, AND HOLDING OUT THE PROMISE OF CAKES AND HASTY-PUDDING; AND THE YELLOW PUMPKINS LYING BENEATH THEM, TURNING UP THEIR FAIR ROUND BELLIES TO THE SUN, AND GIVING AMPLE PROSPECTS OF THE MOST LUXURIOUS OF PIES; AND ANON, HE PASSED THE FRAGRANT BUCKWHEAT FIELDS, BREATHING THE ODOUR OF THE BEEHIVE, AND HE BEHELD THEM, SOFT ANTICIPATIONS STOLE HIS MIND OF DAINTY SLAP-JACKS, WELL BUTTERED AND GARNISHED WITH HONEY OR TREACLE, BY THE DELICATE LITTLE DIMPLED HAND OF KATRINA VAN TASSEL (THE GIRL HE WISHED WOULD RETURN HIS AFFECTIONS)."
     WASHINGTON IRVING, AT HIS DESK, WRITES OF CRANE, "THUS FEEDING HIS MIND WITH MANY SWEET THOUGHTS AND SUGARED SUPPOSITIONS, HE JOURNEYED ALONG THE SIDES OF THE RANGE OF HILLS, WHICH LOOK OUT UPON SOME OF THE GOODLIEST SCENES OF THE MIGHTY HUDSON. THE SUN GRADUALLY WHEELED HIS BROAD DISK DOWN INTO THE WEST. THE WHOLE BOSUM OF THE TAPPAAN ZEE LAY MOTIONLESS AND GLASSY, EXCEPTING THAT HERE AND THERE A GENTLE UNDULATION WAVED AND PROLONGED THE BLUE SHADOW OF THE DISTANT MOUNTAIN. A FEW AMBER CLOUDS FLOATED IN THE SKY, WITHOUT A BREATH OF AIR TO MOVE THEM. THE HORIZON WAS OF A FINE GOLDEN TINT, CHANGING GRADUALLY INTO A PURE APPLE GREEN, AND FROM THAT INTO THE DEEP BLUE OF THE MID-HEAVEN. A SLANTING RAY LINGERED ON THE WOODY CRESTS OF THE PRECIPICES THAT OVERHUNG SOME, PARTS OF THE RIVER, GIVING GREAT DEPTH TO THE DARK GRAY AND PURPLE OF THEIR ROCKY SIDES. A SLOOP WAS LOITERING IN THE DISTANCE, DROPPING SLOWLY DOWN WITH THE TIDE, HER SAIL HANGING USELESSLY AGAINST THE MAST; AND AS THE REFLECTION OF THE SKY GLEANED ALONG THE STILL WATER, IT SEEMED AS IF THE VESSEL WAS SUSPENDED IN THE AIR."
     IRVING NOTES, WITH KEEN OBSERVATION, OF HIS CHARACTER'S PASSAGE, THAT "IT WAS TOWARD EVENING THAT ICHABOD ARRIVED AT THE CASTLE OF THE HEER VAN TASSLE, WHICH HE FOUND THRONGED WITH THE PRIDE AND FLOWER OF THE ADJACENT COUNTRY. OLD FARMERS, A SPARE LEATHERN-FACED RACE, IN HOMESPUN COATS AND BREECHES, BLUE STOCKINGS, HUGE SHOES AND MAGNIFICENT PEWTER BUCKLES. THEIR BRISK, WITHERED LITTLE DAMES, IN CLOSE CRIMPED CAPS, WITH LONG-WAISTED GOWNS, HOMESPUN PETTICOATS, WITH SCISSORS AND PIN-CUSHIONS, AND GAY CALICO POCKETS HANGING ON THE OUTSIDE. BUXOM LASSES, ALMOST AS ANTIQUATED AS THEIR MOTHERS, EXCEPTING WHERE A STRAW HAT, A FINE RIBAND, OR PERHAPS A WHITE FROCK, GAVE SYMPTOMS OF CITY IN MOTIVATIONS. THE SONS, IN SHORT SQUARE-SKIRTED COATS, WITH ROWS OF STUPENDOUS BRASS BUTTONS, AND THEIR HAIR GENERALLY QUEUED IN THE FASHION OF THE TIMES, ESPECIALLY IF THEY COULD PROCURE AN EELSKIN FOR THE PURPOSE, IT BEING ESTEEMED THROUGHOUT THE COUNTRY AS A POTENT NOURISHER AND STRENGTHENER OF THE HAIR.
     "BROM BONES, HOWEVER, WAS THE HERO OF THE SCENE, HAVING COME TO THE GATHERING ON HIS FAVORITE STEED, 'DAREDEVIL,' A CREATURE, LIKE HIMSELF, FULL OF METTLE AND MISCHIEF AND WHICH NO ONE BUT HIMSELF COULD MANAGE. HE WAS, IN FACT, NOTED FOR PREFERRING VICIOUS ANIMALS, GIVEN TO ALL KINDS OF TRICKS WHICH KEPT THE RIDER IN CONSTANT RISK OF HIS NECK, FOR HE HELD A TRACTABLE WELL-BROKEN HORSE, AS UNWORTHY OF A LAD OF SPIRIT.
     "FAIN WOULD I PAUSE TO DWELL UPON THE WORLD OF CHARMS THAT BURST UPON THE ENRAPTURED GAZE OF MY HERO, AS HE ENTERED THE STATE PARLOUR OF VAN TASSEL'S MANSION. NOT THOSE OF THE BEVY OF BUXOM LASSES, WITH THEIR LUXURIOUS DISPLAY OF RED AND WHITE; BUT THE AMPLE CHORUS OF A GENUINE DUTCH COUNTRY TEA-TABLE, IN THE SUMPTUOUS TIME OF AUTUMN. SUCH HEAPED-UP PLATTERS OF CAKES OF VARIOUS AND ALMOST INDESCRIBABLE KINDS, KNOWN ONLY TO EXPERIENCED DUTCH HOUSEWIVES."
     IRVING ADDS, "OLD BALTUS VAN TASSEL MOVED ABOUT HIS GUESTS WITH A FACE DILATED WITH CONTENT AND GOOD HUMOUR, ROUND AND JOLLY AS THE HARVEST MOON. HIS HOSPITABLE ATTENTIONS WERE BRIEF, BUT EXPRESSIVE, BEING CONFINED TO A SHAKE OF THE HAND, A SLAP ON THE SHOULDER, A LOUD LAUGH, AND A PRESSING INVITATION TO 'FAIL TO, AND HELP THEMSELVES'. AND NOW THE SOUND OF THE MUSIC  FROM THE COMMON ROOM, OR HALL SUMMONED TO THE DANCE."
     "ICHABOD PRIDED HIMSELF UPON HIS DANCING AS MUCH AS UPON HIS VOCAL POWERS," IRVING CHARACTERIZES OF THE TEACHER. "NOT A LIMB, NOT A FIBRE ABOUT HIM WAS IDLE; AND TO HAVE SEEN HIS LOOSELY HUNG FRAME IN FULL MOTION, AND CLATTERING ABOUT THE ROOM, YOU WOULD HAVE THOUGHT ST. VITUS HIMSELF, THAT BLESSED PATRON OF THE DANCE, WAS FIGURING BEFORE YOU IN PERSON." "WHEN THE DANCE WAS AT AN END, ICHABOD WAS ATTRACTED TO A KNOT OF THE EAGER FOLKS, WHO WITH OLD VAN TASSEL, SAT SMOKING AT ONE END OF THE PLAZA, GOSSIPING OVER FORMER TIMES, AND DRAWING OUT LONG STORIES ABOUT THE WAR," RECORDS THE AUTHOR, OF CRANE'S MOVEMENT ABOUT THE HOME.
     "THE REVEL NOW GRADUALLY BROKE UP. THE OLD FARMERS GATHERED TOGETHER THEIR FAMILIES IN THEIR WAGONS, AND WERE HEARD FOR SOME TIME RATTLING ALONG THE HOLLOW ROADS, AND OVER THE DISTANT HILLS. SOME OF THE DAMSELS MOUNTED ON PILLIONS BEHIND THEIR FAVORITE SWAINS, AND THEIR LIGHT-HEARTED LAUGHTER, MINGLING WITH THE CLATTER OF HOOFS, ECHOED ALONG THE SILENT WOODLANDS, SOUNDING FAINTER AND FAINTER, UNTIL THEY GRADUALLY DIED AWAY - AND THE LATE SCENE OF NOISE AND FROLIC WAS ALL SILENT AND DESERTED," WRITES IRVING. "ICHABOD ONLY LINGERED BEHIND, ACCORDING TO THE CUSTOM OF COUNTRY LOVERS, TO HAVE A TETE-A-TETE WITH THE HEIRESS; FULLY CONVINCED THAT HE WAS NOW ON THE HIGH ROAD TO SUCCESS. WHAT PASSED AT THIS INTERVIEW I WILL NOT PRETEND TO SAY, FOR IN FACT I DO NOT KNOW. SOMETHING HOWEVER, I FEAR ME, MUST HAVE GONE WRONG, FOR HE CERTAINLY SAILED FORTH, AFTER NO VERY GREAT INTERVAL, WITH AN AIR OF QUITE DESOLATE AND CHAPFALLEN - OH, THESE WOMEN, THESE WOMEN! COULD THAT GIRL HAVE BEEN PLAYING OFF ANY OF HER COQUETISH TRICKS? WAS HER ENCOURAGEMENT OF THE POOR PEDAGOGUE ALL A MERE SHAM TO SECURE HER CONQUEST OF HIS RIVAL? HEAVEN ONLY KNOWS."
     "IT WAS THE VERY WITCHING TIME OF NIGHT THAT ICHABOD, HEAVY-HEARTED AND CREST-FALLEN, PURSUED HIS TRAVEL HOMEWARDS, ALONG THE SIDES OF THE LOFTY HILLS WHICH RISE ABOVE TARRY TOWN, AND WHICH HE HAD TRAVERSED SO CHEERILY IN THE AFTERNOON. THE HOUR WAS AS DISMAL AS HIMSELF. FAR BELOW HIM, THE TAPPANN ZEE SPREAD ITS DUSKY AND INDISTINCT WASTE OF WATERS, WITH HERE AND THERE A TALL MAST OF A SLOOP, RIDING QUIETLY AT ANCHOR UNDER THE LAND. IN THE DEAD HUSH OF MIDNIGHT, HE COULD EVEN HEAR THE BARKING OF THE WATCHDOG FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HUDSON; BUT IT WAS SO VAGUE AND FAINT AS ONLY TO GIVE AN IDEA OF HIS DISTANCE FROM THIS FAITHFUL COMPANION OF MAN. NOW AND THEN, TOO, THE LONG-DRAWN CROWING OF A COCK, ACCIDENTALLY AWAKENED WOULD SOUND FAR, FAR OFF, FROM SOME FARM-HOUSE, AWAY AMONG THE HILLS - BUT IT WAS LIKE A DREAMING SOUND IN HIS EAR. NO SIGNS OF LIFE OCCURRED NEAR HIM, BUT OCCASIONALLY THE MELANCHOLY CHIRP OF A CRICKET, OR PERHAPS THE GUTTURAL TWANG OF A BULL-FROG FROM A NEIGHBORING MARSH, AS IF SLEEPING UNCOMFORTABLY, AND TURNING SUDDENLY IN HIS BED. ALL THE STORIES OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS THAT HE HAD HEARD IN THE AFTERNOON, NOW CAME CROWDING UPON HIS RECOLLECTION. THE NIGHT GREW DARKER AND DARKER; THE STARS SEEMED TO SINK DEEPER IN THE SKY, AND DRIVING CLOUDS OCCASIONALLY HID THEM FROM HIS SIGHT. HE HAD NEVER FELT SO LONELY AND DISMAL. HE WAS MOREOVER, APPROACHING THE VERY PLACE WHERE MANY OF THE SCENES OF GHOST STORIES HAD BEEN LAID. IN THE CENTRE OF THE ROAD STOOD AN ENORMOUS TULIP-TREE, WHICH TOWERED LIKE A GIANT ABOVE ALL THE OTHER TREES OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD, AND FORMED A KIND OF LANDMARK. ITS LIMBS WERE GNARLED AND FANTASTIC, LARGE ENOUGH TO FORM TRUNKS FOR ORDINARY TREES, TWISTING DOWN ALMOST TO THE EARTH, AND RISING AGAIN, INTO THE AIR. IT WAS CONNECTED WITH THE TRAGICAL STORY OF THE UNFORTUNATE ANDRE, WHO HAD BEEN TAKEN PRISONER HARD BY; AND WAS UNIVERSALLY KNOWN BY THE NAME OF MAJOR ANDRE'S TREE. THE COMMON PEOPLE REGARDED IT WITH A MIXTURE OF RESPECT AND SUPERSTITION PARTLY OUT OF SYMPATHY FOR THE FATE OF ITS ILL-STARTED NAMESAKE, AND PARTLY FROM THE TALES OF STRANGE SIGHTS AND DOLEFUL LAMENTATIONS TOLD CONCERNING IT."
     I WILL J RE-JOIN THE ADVENTUROUS TRAVELS OF ICHABOD CRANE, IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF STORIED "SLEEPY HOLLOW," IN TOMORROW'S BLOG. PLEASE CATCH PART TWO OF THREE OF THIS TRIBUTE TO WASHINGTON IRVING, AND THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, THAT CARRIES THE PROVENANCE OF HIS GOOD NAME.
     IT IS KNOWN, BY THE WAY, THAT AUTHOR CHARLES DICKENS, HIMSELF, WAS A BIG FAN OF THE WORK OF WASHINGTON IRVING, CONFESSING TO A COLLEAGUE ONCE, THAT HE OFTEN "RETIRED TO BEDLAM," WITH ONE OF HIS BOOKS, "TUCKED UNDER HIS ARM." NOT A BAD PROVENANCE THEN, WOULDN'T YOU SAY, TO HAVE BEEN AFFORDED A NAME ASSOCIATED WITH WASHINGTON IRVING?"

WHY NOT EMBRACE THE "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW," AS A BUSINESS PROMOTION AT HALLOWEEN?

Falkenburg Union Cemetery – 1886

 

The picturesque Falkenburg Union Cemetery north of Bracebridge is the resting place for a number of the pioneers of the area.   Nestled under the trees are some of the monuments of early settlers of the area.  I spot well worth visiting on one of these beautiful crisp fall days. (Photo By Fred Schulz)

EVEN WITHOUT A MUSEUM, AN HISTORICAL SOCIETY, A HUGE VOLUNTEER BRIGADE - FREE ENTERPRISE CAN DO IT ALL

HISTORY FOR PROFIT - IT'S GOT A LOT OF POTENTIAL


     YESTERDAY WAS KIND OF EXCITING FOR ME. IT DIDN'T INVOLVE WINNING A LOTTERY, OR GETTING NEWS OF A PULITZER PRIZE COMING IN THE MAIL. A CASE OF BEER WASN'T DELIVERED TO MY FRONT DOOR, AS A GIFT FROM CARING NEIGHBORS, AND TO MY KNOWLEDGE, I WASN'T  INVITED TO A CEREMONIAL DINNER; OR EVEN A FRIEND'S HOUSE FOR BUFFALO WINGS, AND TO WATCH THE FOOTBALL GAME. BUT WHAT TREASURE I DID FIND, WITH A LITTLE DIGGING IN MY ARCHIVES, WERE THE WASHINGTON IRVING BOOKS I HAD STORED AWAY BACK AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY (2000), AFTER I'D FINISHED MY BOOK ON THE NAMING OF BRACEBRIDGE, (AFTER IRVING'S BOOK "BRACEBRIDGE HALL.") I GOT MAD AT THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, BECAUSE THEY SHOWED ABSOLUTELY NO INTEREST IN FOLLOWING-UP MY SUGGESTIONS FOR A FULL RECOGNITION OF THIS LITERARY CONNECTION. WELL, THEN THERE WAS THE TIME, SHORTLY AFTER THE BOOK'S RELEASE, WHEN THE MAYOR, AT THAT TIME, PHONED (WHILE I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF DINNER) TO ASK IF I COULD GIVE HIM ONE OF MY BOOKS, SO HE COULD PRESENT IT TO THE DIRECTOR OF A COMMUNITY BAND, VISITING BRACEBRIDGE, FROM ENGLAND. I OFFERED HIM TWO, I BELIEVE, ONE TO GIVE AWAY, AND THE OTHER TO HAVE AT TOWN HALL FOR REFERENCE. NOW THAT WAS A LAUGH. I DID OFFER TWO BOOKS TO THE LIBRARY'S MUSKOKA COLLECTION. BUT YESTERDAY, I WAS JUST HAPPY TO FIND THEM AGAIN, BECAUSE I WASN'T SURE HOW DEEP, AND FOR HOW LONG, I WAS GOING TO HAVE TO QUEST IN ORDER TO FIND THEM. NOW I CAN DO THE SERIES OF COLUMNS I WANTED TO PREPARE , IN CELEBRATION OF HALLOWEEN.....AND HEADLESS HORSEMEN WHERE EVER THEY RIDE THE MOONLIT TRAILS THROUGH THE COUNTRYSIDE.
     SO HERE'S MY PRE-SERIES PERSPECTIVE, ON WHAT I CALL THE "FORWARD-BACKWARD" APPROACH TO GOVERNANCE. I SEE IT HAPPENING OFTEN IN OUR REGIONAL MUNICIPALITIES.
     OUR MUSKOKA TOWNS ARE ALWAYS LOOKING FOR TOURISM-FRIENDLY IDEAS, TO ENTICE VISITORS TO OUR COMMUNITIES THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. THERE HAVE BEEN MANY INITIATIVES TO ENCOURAGE COTTAGERS (SECOND HOME OWNERS), AND TOURISTS, TO EXPLORE OUR REGION BEYOND THE FALL COLORS AT THANKSGIVING, AND DURING THE WINTER SEASON. THE CRANBERRY FESTIVAL IN BALA, HAS BEEN ONE OF THOSE SUCCESS STORIES, AND DESPITE THE ONGOING BATTLE WITH THE ELEMENTS, A LOT OF THOSE FOLKS WHO ATTEND, DON'T CARE ABOUT INCLEMENT WEATHER. FOR MANY COTTAGERS, DAY TRAVELLERS, AND PERMANENT RESIDENTS, THE FESTIVAL IS HOME GROWN FUN.....WHERE YOU CAN BUY CRANBERRIES FROM THE GROWERS THEMSELVES. THE VILLAGE OF BALA WORKS HARD TO PUT THIS EVENT ON, IN CO-OPERATION WITH A LOT OF PARTNERS, AND A BRIGADE OF WILLING VOLUNTEERS, WHO SHOW UP YEAR AFTER YEAR, INSISTING ON BEING A PART OF A REALLY UNIQUE MUSKOKA AUTUMN-SEASON TRADITION. IMAGINE IF THE ORIGINAL MUSKOKA CAVALCADE OF COLOR, HAVING BECOME SO POPULAR IN THE 1970'S, HAD BEEN MAINTAINED FOR ALL THESE YEARS, TIEING INTO THE CRANBERRY FESTIVAL, AS A SEPTEMBER TO LATE OCTOBER ALLURE?
     AFTER A PRETTY FAIR TRACK RECORD, FROM THE 1970'S, THE MUSKOKA WINTER CARNIVAL RAN OUT OF STEAM AND VOLUNTEERS AS A DISRICT-WIDE EVENT IN THE 1990'S, BUT IS BEING REBORN ONE TOWN AT A TIME. THERE ARE WINTER CARNIVAL EVENTS IN COMMUNITIES LIKE PORT CARLING AND PORT SYDNEY, AND THE GRAVENHURST WINTER CARNIVAL HAS ACTUALLY REKINDLED THE OLD "SKOKIE" THEME, FROM THE ORIGINAL EVENT BEGUN AS A TOURIST PROMOTION IN THE EARLY 1970'S. THE PROBLEM WITH THE ORIGINAL EVENT, IN EARNEST, WAS THAT MUSKOKANS WERE EXPECTED TO RUN THE MYRIAD OF EVENTS, WHICH AT ONE TIME STRETCHED OVER TEN DAYS. THE ORIGNAL IDEA, WITH PROVINCIAL FUNDING ASSISTANCE, WAS TO ENHANCE THE ATTRACTIONS OF MUSKOKA IN ITS MOST ADVERSE, WEATHER-CHALLENGED TIME OF YEAR. UNFORTUNATELY, MANY CITIZEN HELPERS, WHO HAD NO VESTED INTEREST IN THE EVENT DOING WELL,  (NOT BEING STAKE HOLDERS IN THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY) FELT SLIGHTLY USED, AND A TAD ABUSED, AS VOLUNTEERS, IN THE PROJECT, CLEARLY ORCHESTRATED TO BOOST THE CAUSE OF YEAR ROUND TOURISM. THEY WERE IN FACT, MAKING BUSINESS FOR THE RETAIL COMMUNITY, AND SOME TOURIST ACCOMMODATIONS, BUT WERE GETTING TIRED OF THE PHYSICAL DEMANDS.....WHICH BECAME MORE INTENSE AS THE VOLUNTEER WORK FORCE BEGAN TO DECLINE.
     THE DIFFERENCE TODAY, IS THAT THESE NEWLY CRAFTED AND UPDATED WINTER CARNIVAL EVENTS, HAVE BEEN DEVELOPED TO SATISFY THE PERMANENT POPULATION, AS WELL AS VISITORS. THE GRAVENHURST WINTER CARNIVAL OGRANIZERS, WERE SMART TO MAKE THE EVENT INCLUSIVE OF LOCALS, AND NOT JUST SEEK THEM OUT, AS SERVICE STAFF TO THE TOURISM INTERESTS. THEY WANT EVERYONE TO JOIN IN, AND THAT MEANS A HAPPY MIX OF COTTAGERS, PERMANENT RESIDENTS AND DAY-TRAVELLERS WANTING TO CHECK OUT THE ACTION. EVENTS IN PORT CARLING AND PORT SYDNEY, HAVE ALWAYS HAD THE NEIGHBORLINESS GENE,  BEING NOT ONLY GOOD HOSTS, BUT  CRAFTING A WEEKEND EVENT THAT APPEALS TO A WIDER, AND MORE DIVERSE AUDIENCE.....TO PROMOTE COMMUNITY GOODWILL, AT THE SAME TIME AS MAKING A WEE PROFIT FOR CHARITABLE CAUSES.....AND SOME PROFIT OF COURSE, FOR LOCAL BUSINESSES.
     IN BRACEBRIDGE, IN THE LATE PART OF THE 1990'S, THERE WAS A WELL THOUGHT-OUT INITIATIVE, TO PROMOTE THE NATURAL HERITAGE OF THE COMMUNITY, AND REGION; BY RECOGNIZING THE IMPORTANCE OF WATER POWER AND RIVER RESOURCES, TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE TOWN, FROM ITS PIONEER YEARS ONWARD. I SAT ON THIS COMMITTEE, AND DID A LOT OF PUBLIC RELATIONS WRITING FOR THEM, UNTIL, I BEGAN TO SENSE A POLITICAL UNDERCURRENT I COULDN'T LIVE WITH. IN MY OPINION, ORGANIZERS BECAME OVERLOADED WITH NEW RESPONSIBILITIES, AND VOLUNTEERS BEGAN TO DECLINE IN NUMBER. IT SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN A SPRING EVENT, BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN GREAT IN THE FALL SEASON. THE PROBLEM WAS THAT DISSENTERS STARTED TO INFUSE CRITIQUES, AND OVERHAUL SUGGESTIONS, TO THE POINT, MANY WHO HAD BEEN KEEN ASSOCIATES, DECIDED TO PURSUE OTHER ACTIVITIES INSTEAD. FOR AN EVENT OF THIS SIZE, YOU COULDN'T OPERATE IT WITHOUT AN ARMY OF VOLUNTEERS....OR MAKE IT A MAJOR TOURIST ATTRACTION, RANKING AMONGST THE BEST IN THE PROVINCE, WITH OUT A MAJOR INFUSION OF CAPITAL.  MONEY WAS A KEY  ISSUE, AND ONCE AGAIN, IT FALTERED BECAUSE IT WAS AN EVENT FOR VISITORS, MORE THAN IT WAS FOR THE PERMANENT POPULATUON. THUS AGAIN, ORGANIZERS  EXPECTED THAT THE LOCALS WOULD PITCH IN, TO HELP BRING PROSPERITY TO THE REGION. BUT MOST OF THE VOLUNTEERS DIDN'T STAND TO GAIN FROM THE SUCCESS OF THE EVENT, EXCEPT TO SAY THEY'D ENJOYED BEING IN COMPANY WITH FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS, AS EVENT HELPERS. WHICH IS GOOD AND WHOLESOME FUN, BUT IT'S BLOODY HARD TO SUSTAIN VOLUNTEER SUPPORT FROM THE LOCAL POPULATION, WITHOUT SOMETHING MORE TANGIBLE AS COMPENSATION FOR HOURS INVESTED.
     BOOSTING THE TOURISM INDUSTRY, NO MATTER HOW THE SUBJECT MUNICIPALITY STICKS IN ITS OARS, IS STILL PRETTY MUCH A FREE ENTERPRISE KIND OF THING.....AND THE FESTIVAL SPONSORS IN THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY, SHOULD HAVE BEEN HUGELY, IF NOT OVER-WHELMINGLY, THE PROVIDERS OF FUNDING AND GUMPTION TO MAKE IT A BETTER, AND MORE DYNAMIC EVENT. WHEN YOU HINGE AN EVENT ON BUSINESS RELATED ASSOCIATIONS, THE MOOD OF THE MUNICIPALITY AT BUDGET TIME, AND BOTH THE FEDERAL AND PROVINCIAL LEVELS OF GOVERNMENT, THE SET UP AND MANAGEMENT REQUIRES MUCH MORE SKILL TO PULL OFF SUCCESSFULLY, OVER THE LONG TERM.....AND MANY, MANY MORE VOLUNTEERS TO WORK IN ADMINISTRATIVE CAPACITIES, THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. NOT JUST AT THE TIME OF THE EVENT. IT'S A VOLUNTEER KILLER, NO DOUBT ABOUT IT!
    THE COMPLICATIONS AND ADMINISTRATIVE REQUIREMENTS, TO MEET GRANT AND LOAN REQUIREMENTS, CAN BE OVERWHELMING TO THOSE EVENT COMMITTEES, ILL PREPARED FOR REQUIRED PAPER-WORK, AND CONSTANT NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN FUNDING PARTNERS. IT WAS THE MAIN BUSINESS REASON, ON A MUCH SMALLER SCALE,  WE HAD SO MUCH TROUBLE OPERATING BRACEBRIDGE'S WOODCHESTER VILLA AND MUSEUM, FROM ITS VERY FIRST YEAR OPEN FOR BUSINESS. THE ADMINISTRATIVE WORK REQUIRED AT LEAST ONE FULL TIME MUSEUM STAFF, AND THE MORE GOVERNMENT RESTRICTION AND REQUIREMENTS FOR MUSEUM FUNDING CHANGED, WE ACTUALLY COULD HAVE USED TWO FULL-TIME STAFF JUST FOR CLERICAL RESPONSIBILITIES, TO LIVE UP TO GOVERNMENT STANDARDS. IF WE HAD BEEN PERFECT, IN GOVERNMENT TERMS, AND DONE ALL THE CLERICAL WORK DUTIFULLY, WE WOULDN'T HAVE HAD ANYONE TO ACTUALLY OPERATE THE MUSEUM DAY TO DAY; EXCEPT VOLUNTEERS. THIS IS WHAT WE TRIED TO DO, AND THE BURDEN UPON THESE GENEROUS FOLKS BECAME SO ONEROUS AND TIME INTRUSIVE, THAT YEAR AFTER YEAR, WE HAD FEWER AND FEWER VOLUNTEERS TO CALL.
     BALA IS A GOOD EXAMPLE OF A BALANCE ACHIEVED AND VERY NEARLY MASTERED, BETWEEN THE PERMANENT POPULATION OF THE VILLAGE, COTTAGERS, VISITORS, PRIVATE ENTERPRISE, AND THE SERVICE INDUSTRY. IT'S NOT PERFECT, BECAUSE THERE ARE STILL DISSENTERS WHO WISH IT WOULD GO AWAY, BECAUSE OF COMPROMISES AND INCONVENIENCES THEY HAVE TO MAKE IN THEIR LIVING AND TRAVEL NECESSITIES, OVER THE EVENT WEEKEND. I'VE TALKED TO RESIDENTS WHO OPT TO LEAVE THE AREA ENTIRELY, FOR THE WEEKEND, RATHER THAN TOLERATE THE HUSTLE AND BUSTLE THAT THEY FIND ANNOYING. THE OVERWHELMING MAJORITY, SEEM TO LIKE THE IDEA OF THE VILLAGE STANDING OUT SO PROMINENTLY IN THE DISTRICT, AND PLAY PERFECT HOSTS FOR THE THRONGS OF VISITORS SHOWING UP IN ALL KINDS OF WEATHER,  TO BE PART OF THIS SEASONAL HAPPENING, BASED ON THE GOOD TASTES OF THE BRIGHT RED CRANBERRY.

PRIVATE ENTERPRISE AND THE FESTIVALS THAT COULD BE!

     I AM AN UNDETERRED BELIEVER IN FREE ENTERPRISE DOING ITS THING. I'VE LEARNED BY EXPERIENCE IN THIS REGION, AND BY MUCH TRIAL AND ERROR, THAT THE ONE UNTAPPED RESOURCE WE HAVE IN OUR COMMUNITIES, IS THE OLD FASHIONED ENTREPRENEURIAL INITIATIVE, TO RUN PROGRAMS AND EVENTS WITHOUT GOVERNMENT SUBSIDIES AND THEIR ACCOMPANYING RULES, REGULATIONS, AND DRIFT OF POLITICS, WHICH TIME AND AGAIN INTRUDES UPON THE MECHANISM OF SUBJECT EVENTS. IF YOU TAKE THEIR MONEY AND THEIR SUBSIDIZED RATES, FOR RENTAL FACILITIES, YOU ALLOW FOR THIS POLITICAL FANNING-OUT OF INFLUENCES. I KNOW OF SEVERAL EVENTS THAT COULD DO A LOT BETTER IN THE FUTURE, IF MORE BUSINESSES STEPPED UP, AND FORMED A LOOSELY KNIT CO-OP TO FUND AND OPERATE THE SHOWS....BECAUSE VESTED INTEREST IS NOT A BAD THING....AND IT'S PRETTY GOOD FOR BUSINESS RETURN IF IT'S DONE WELL.
    THE PROBLEM OF SEEKING ASSISTANCE FROM BUSINESS ASSOCIATIONS, AND LOCAL GOVERNMENT ON TOP OF THIS, IS THAT PERSONALITIES AND PHILOSOPHIES CAN RUN AMUCK....WHILE A STRICT BUSINESS DEAL BASED ON INVESTMENT RETURN, AS THE KEY MOTIVATION, WITHOUT THE BURDEN OF POLITICS, OFFERS A STRAIGHTFORWARD MISSION STATEMENT. IT'S BUSINESS, BY BUSINESS PARTNERS, WITH A BUSINESS PLAN. REAL SIMPLE. THE IDEA IS TO MAKE MONEY BY RUNNING A SUCCESSFULLY EXECUTED PROGRAM.  SUCH WOULD BE THE CASE IF A BLOCK IN THIS TOWN, (GRAVENHURST) DECIDED TO RUN THEIR OWN PROMOTION, OR EVENT, THAT HAD NOTHING WHATSOEVER TO DO WITH ANY OTHER PART OF TOWN, OR ANY ORGANIZED BUSINESS ASSOCIATION. IT'S BEEN DONE BEFORE, BUT IT COULD BE DONE AGAIN, AND PROSPEROUSLY, IF MANAGED CORRECTLY BY WILLING PARTNERS, TIRED OF THE SAME OLD, SAME OLD. FREE ENTERPRISE NEEDS TO SEPARATE ITSELF FROM MUNICIPAL OVERLORDS FROM TIME TO TIME, TO STRETCH THE OLD WINGS.....AND FIND OUT, BY ADVENTURE, JUST HOW EFFECTIVE AND EFFICIENT THE OLD WINGS ARE, FOR TAKING FLIGHT WITHOUT A SAFETY NET.
     PRIVATE AND BUSINESS FUNDING AND DIRECTION CAN BE PRETTY EXCITING, WITH GREAT RESULTS, WHEN THE TASK IS EXECUTED WELL. THERE'S TOO MUCH RELIANCE THESE DAYS ON BUSINESS ORGANIZATIONS, AND NOT ENOUGH FOCUS ON WHAT NETWORKING BUSINESSES AND INDUSTRY CAN DO ON THEIR OWN, WITHOUT ANY SUPERVISION FROM THE SO CALLED MOTHERSHIP ASSOCIATIONS. THEY HAVE THEIR PLACE BUT NOT AS A REPLACEMENT FOR FREE ENTERPRISE ON THE FREE RANGE. SOME BUSINESSES SEEM TO BE LOST WITHOUT DIRECTION FROM THEIR SO-CALLED KEEPERS, AND I FIND THIS A DIMINISHING REALITY, OF WHAT IT MEANS TO BE FREE ENTERPRISE IN THE FIRST PLACE.
     I'LL GIVE YOU A TIMELY EXAMPLE, WHICH WILL FEED INTO MY HALLOWEEN FEATURE COLUMN, REGARDING BRACEBRIDGE, AND ITS VERY WEAK, TO NON EXISTANT RELATIONSHIP WITH WASHINGTON IRVING, WHO WAS THE AUTHOR RESPONSIBLE FOR THE TOWN'S NAME......GRANTED IN AUGUST, 1864, BY A VERY PLEASED POSTAL AUTHORITY (WRITER, LITERARY CRITIC, HISTORIAN AND CIVIL SERVANT), WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR. DR. LESUEUR THOUGHT HE WAS BESTOWING AN HONOR ON THE PIONEER COMMUNITY, BY ADOPTING THE NAME "BRACEBRIDGE," FROM IRVING'S LANDMARK BOOK, "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," WHICH WAS AN EXTENSION OF THE PREVIOUS "SKETCH BOOK," THAT INTRODUCED THE READER TO GEOFFREY CRAYON, ESQ., IRVING'S CHARACTER TRAVELLER, APPOINTED BY THE AUTHOR TO VISIT ENGLAND. JUST TO FOOTNOTE, THAT DR. LESUEUR HAD ALSO NAMED GRAVENHURST, TWO YEARS EARLIER, AFTER THE TITLE OF A BOOK WRITTEN BY WILLIAM HENRY SMITH, A BRITISH POET / PHILOSOPHER.
     WHEN I WAS WORKING ON A SMALL BOOK, REGARDING THE NAMING OF BRACEBRIDGE, (WHICH I BELIEVE WAS LONG OVERDUE) I CONFESS TO BEING QUITE OPTIMISTIC, THAT A TOWN ALWAYS QUESTING FOR TOURISM ADVANTAGES, TO EXTEND THE TRADITIONAL SUMMER SEASON, INTO THE SHOULDER MONTHS, WOULD BE THRILLED TO HAVE AN OPPORTUNITY TO EXPLORE THE LITERARY ADVANTAGES OF AN ENHANCED RELATIONSHIP WITH WASHINGTON IRVING; HIS WORK, AND PARTNERSHIP WITH OTHER COMMUNITIES SHARING THE CELEBRITY AND NOTORIETY OF HIS WORK. BEING CONVINCED THIS WAS A WIN-WIN SITUATION, FOR ALL COMMUNITY PARTNERS, I SENT A NOTE TO BOTH TOWN COUNCIL, AND THE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE, ASKING TO BOOK A TIME, WHEN I COULD PROPERLY PRESENT MY IDEAS, FOR A FULL RECOGNITION OF THESE IRVING OPPORTUNITIES, OF WHICH I WAS DISCOVERING REGULARLY, BY THE CRAZY HAPPENSTANCE OF RESEARCH. THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN IN AND AROUND THE LATE 1990'S, JUST BEFORE THE PUBLICATION OF MY SMALL BOOK, IN THE SUMMER OF 2000. WELL, TRYING TO GET AN AUDIENCE WAS NEAR IMPOSSIBLE, WITH EITHER THE TOWN OR THE CHAMBER, AND AFTER MY SECOND ATTEMPT, IT WAS SUGGESTED I COULD MEET WITH A TOWN COMMITTEE, BUT IT WOULD REQUIRE SEVERAL WEEKS TO A MONTH'S WAIT, AND A MORE COMPLETE PRESENTATION IN ADVANCE, FOR WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR FROM THE TOWN. I KIND OF STOPPED IN MY TRACKS, AT THIS POINT, BECAUSE I'D ALREADY BEEN CLEAR IN MY COVERING LETTERS TO BOTH GROUPS, AND SOME MATERIAL HAD BEEN PUBLISHED IN THE PRESS.....WHICH I KNEW COUNCILLORS HAD  READ, MONTHS BEFORE I MADE LETTER APPLICATIONS, TO SCHEDULE MORE FORMAL PRESENTATIONS TO BOTH PARTIES......THE TOWN AND THE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE.
     I HAD BEEN INFORMED BY SEVERAL SOURCES, OF CONSIDERABLE RANK IN TOWN POLITICS, THAT I WAS WASTING MY TIME DOING ALL THIS WORK ON IRVING. LESUEUR RULED AGAINSTM AND I DARE SAY, INSULTED THE CITIZENS OF THE TOWN, CIRCA 1864, WHO HAD COME UP WITH THE NAME "NORTH FALLS," TO ADORN THE NEW POST OFFICE SIGN,  WHEN IT WAS FINALLY GRANTED. IT HAD BEEN KNOWN AS NORTH FALLS FOR SOME TIME BEFORE THE OFFICIAL APPLICATION, BUT LESUEUR DIDN'T THINK IT WAS DISTINCTIVE ENOUGH, AND IMPOSED THE NAME "BRACEBRIDGE" INSTEAD. IRVING HAD DIED SOME YEARS EARLIER, AND NEW RELEASES OF HIS GREATEST WORKS, WERE BEING REPUBLISHED AT AROUND THIS TIME. IT'S LIKELY, THAT AS A LITERARY CRITIC, LESUEUR HAD IRVING'S LATEST RELEASE ON HIS BOOK SHELF ANYWAY. SO HE DECIDED TO HONOR THE PIONEER RESIDENTS OF THE TOWN WITH A NAME TAKEN FROM A GREAT BOOK. AS I'VE NOTED MANY TIMES IN THE PAST, LESUEUR'S BIGGEST PROBLEM, LASTING TO THIS DAY, IS THAT HE DIDN'T PEN A LITTLE NOTE, AS TO WHY HE REJECTED NORTH FALLS, AND DECIDED TO HONOR IRVING INSTEAD. KEEP IN MIND, AT THIS CIVIL WAR TIME IN AMERICA, IT MAY NOT HAVE BEEN WELCOME NEWS BEING AFFORDED A NAME ASSOCIATED WITH A WELL LOVED AMERICAN AUTHOR. IF HE HAD GIVEN THE REASON FOR HIS CHOICE OF NAMES, THERE MIGHT BE, TODAY, "WASHINGTON IRVING"-THEMED STREET SIGNS, MEMORIAL TRIBUTES IN THE POSTED NAMES OF RECREATION FACILITIES, BRIDGES, HOLLOWS (SLEEPY), AND FESTIVALS. ONE TINY OVERSIGHT COST US A GOOD AND PROSPEROUS RELATIONSHIP WITH WASHINGTON IRVING. THE SAME HOLDS FOR GRAVENHURST. THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN HAPPIER, ME THINKS, TO HAVE MAINTAINED THE NAME "MCCABE'S LANDING," THE CITIZENS CHOICE IN 1862, RATHER THAN BEING BURDENED BY THE NAME PENNED BY A BRITISH POET, OF CONSIDERABLE ACCLAIM....BECAUSE OF THE LITERARY WHIM OF WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR.
     SO HERE'S THE LONG AWAITED POINT OF THIS BLOG. READY FOR IT? I THINK IT'S SHOCKINGLY PROFOUND. A MISSED OPPORTUNITY OF HOLLYWOOD PROPORTION.  NOW, ONLY A FEW DAYS AWAY FROM HALLOWEEN, AND YOU WON'T FIND A SINGLE WASHINGTON IRVING REFERENCE, BY LOCAL GOVERNMENT, THE BUSINESS ASSOCIATIONS, OR EVEN THE FREE ENTERPRISE OF THE COMMUNITY....NOT A SINGLE TIDBIT OF LITERARY HERITAGE, WARNING OF THE IMMINENT VISIT, OF THE GHOST OF THE HESSIAN TROOPER, LOOKING FOR HIS HEAD. THE "HEADLESS HORSEMAN," OF COURSE, IS THE SUPERNATURAL ENTITY, IN IRVING'S FAMOUS, "LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW." IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT, IN THE CHAPTERS OF THE LARGER "SKETCH BOOK," ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN AND AROUND 1819, YOU, PROBABLY LIKE ME, GREW UP WITH IT, COURTESY OF THE WALT DISNEY CARTOON, THAT USED TO AIR EVERY SUNDAY EVENING, JUST BEFORE HALLOWEEN.....THROUGHOUT MY YOUTH. I'M NOT THRILLED THAT THIS WAS HOW I TURNED ONTO WASHINGTON IRVING, BUT AT LEAST I DID. IT MOST CERTAINLY LED TO MY INTEREST IN LATER YEARS, WHEN I FOUND OUT THAT THE AUTHOR OF THIS MARVELLOUS SHORT STORY, HAD A LITERARY LINK WITH MY HOMETOWN AT THE TIME. WHAT I COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND, WAS WHY THE TOWN SEEMED SO DISINTERESTED IN THEIR OWN PROVENANCE, AND A LINK WITH AN AUTHOR CHERISHED FOR HIS AMAZING TALES, SUCH AS WITH "RIP VAN WINKLE." SO I DECIDED TO INVESTIGATE ON MY OWN, AND I WAS SHOCKED FRANKLY, TO SEE SO LITTLE INTEREST IN WHAT I FELT WAS SO POTENTIALLY FRUITFUL FOR THE COMMUNITY QUESTING FOR MORE TOURISM RECOGNITION.
     I GET SO MAD THESE DAYS, ALMOST TO THE POINT OF SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION, WHEN I READ ABOUT BIG CITY CONSULTANTS BEING HIRED, ONCE AGAIN, TO HELP "BRAND" THE COMMUNITY, WHICH AS A CASE IN POINT, SEVERAL YEARS AGO, HAD TO DO WITH BECOMING KNOWN WORLDWIDE AS AN EDUCATION MECCA OR SOMETHING. I KNOW QUITE A FEW PEOPLE WEREN'T HAPPY ABOUT THIS, PREFERRING TO BE KNOWN INSTEAD AS A CHRISTMAS COMMUNITY, AS A TRIBUTE TO SANTA'S VILLAGE. SO AS THE TOWN'S MOVERS AND SHAKERS WERE PAYING AN OUTSIDE INTEREST, TO HELP THE MUNICIPALITY FIND ITSELF, AND ITS PITCH TO OTHERS TO "COME AND SEE," THE WHOLE IRVING CONNECTION WAS BEING IGNORED. I EVEN TOOK THE TIME, TO REPLY TO THE SURVEY, AND AS I HAVE MANY TIMES BEFORE, OFFEREID TO SPEAK TO THE MATTER IN PERSON....AND TO EVER WOULD GIVE ME THE TIME OF DAY. MAYBE I WOULDN'T BE WRITING THIS IF I'D BEEN CONSIDERED WORTHY ENOUGH AS AN HISTORIAN, TO MAKE SUCH A DEPUTATION...., EVEN FOR FREE. MAYBE IF I'D ATTACHED A HEFTY CONSULTING FEE, THEY'D HAVE TAKEN ME SERIOUSLY. SO WE COME TO THIS POINT IN TIME,  WITH THE SAME OLD OPPOSITION, IN THE SAME OLD POSITION AS ONCE. HONESTLY I HAVE GIVEN UP THE  IDEA, THAT MY FORMER HOMETOWN WILL, WITH ITS BUSINESS ASSOCIATIONS, EVER MAKE  WHAT I THINK IS A REMARKABLE CONNECTION, TO ONE OF THE FINEST STORIES OF THE PARANORMAL EVER WRITTEN. SO HERE'S MY ALTERNATIVE APPROACH. MAYBE THERE ARE BUSINESS PEOPLE IN BRACEBRIDGE, TIRED OF ADVERTISING PROMOTIONS THEY FIND ROUTINE AND UNREMARKABLE. THEY ARE THUSLY ENTITLED TO POACH THESE IDEAS FREE OF CHARGE. I WON'T MIND AT ALL. IN FACT, IT WOULD BE A BLESSING.
     AS ONE OF THE COMMUNITIES IN NORTH AMERICA, OF WHICH THERE ARE A FEW, THAT HAVE A CONFIRMED LITERARY PROVENANCE WITH IRVING'S WORK, THERE IS A TIME HONORED RIGHT, AND INHERENT PRIVILEGE, TO CELEBRATE THE AUTHOR'S MANY ACCOMPLISHMENTS. SOME OF THESE COMMUNITIES CELEBRATE "CHRISTMASES AT BRACEBRIDGE HALL," IN SEASON, AS AFFORDED BY HIS SHORT STORIES OF BRACEBRIDGE HALL, AND MOST CERTAINLY, HALLOWEEN CELEBRATIONS IN OCTOBER, IN RESPECT TO THE TELLING AND RE-ENACTING OF "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW." BRACEBRIDGE HAS, ON NUMEROUS OCCASIONS, CELEBRATED "CHRISTMASES AT BRACEBRIDGE HALL," BUT ONLY BY SELECT COMMUNITY GROUPS, AS FUNDRAISING EVENTS. AS FOR THE FULL RECOGNITION OF "THE RIDE OF THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN," NOT SO MUCH....IF EVER, IN THE CHRONICLE OF TOWN HISTORY, IT HAS EVEN BEEN MENTIONED IN A WHISPER, AS A POSSIBILITY. I'D LIKE TO THROW THIS IDEA OUT TO THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY, AS INDIVIDUAL ENTITIES, MORESO THAN TRYING TO CONVINCE THE MUNICIPALITY OR FORMAL BUSINESS GROUPS, TO LEND AN EAR TO A WHINY OLD HISTORIAN LIKE ME.
     SO FOR TOMORROW AND RIGHT UP TO HALLOWE'EN, I'D LIKE TO TAKE SOME WORDS PENNED BY IRVING, AS RELATES TO SLEEPY HOLLOW, FROM THE 1893 EDITION OF THE SKETCH BOOK, WHICH I PURCHASED FROM AN ESTATE AUCTION, IN BRACEBRIDGE, AT THE FORMER EWING HOMESTEAD, ON ZISKA ROAD. IT'S THE SEASONAL STORY THAT COULD MAKE THE FOUNDATION OF A WEEK-LONG FESTIVAL IN THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY.....OF WHICH, IN LITERARY PARTNERSHIP, THEY ARE ENTITLED TO ENJOY AND PROSPER FROM.....AS MANY CITIES, TOWNS AND VILLAGES HAVE, ACROSS NORTH AMERICA.
    THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR VISITING TODAY. IF YOU DON'T KNOW TOO MUCH ABOUT "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW," EXCEPT WHAT YOU REMEMBER FROM THE DISNEY CARTOON, OR RECOGNIZE FROM JOHNNY DEPP'S PORTRAYAL,  IN THE MOVIE "SLEEPY HOLLOW," WHICH WAS A HUGE STRETCH FROM THE AUTHOR'S ORIGINAL STORY, MAYBE THIS WILL BE A HAUNTINGLY EXCITING TRIP BACK IN TIME....TO THE VALLEY OF THE ENCHANTED HUDSON RIVER. LET ME KNOW IF YOU THINK IT'S THE KIND OF LITERARY ATTACHMENT, AND SUBJECT, THAT COULD WITH TIME, AND INVESTMENT, INSPIRE SUCH A VIGOROUSLY FRIGHTENING, SUBSTANTIALLY PROFITABLE, FREELANCE, OCTOBER FESTIVAL OF THE SAME NAME.
    I'LL START THE STORY TOMORROW. PLEASE JOIN FRED SCHULZ AND I, FOR WHAT I THINK, WILL BE A GREAT HAUNT.....IF INDEED ANY HAUNT CAN BE CONSIDERED AS SUCH.....GREAT!

THANKS TO GRAVENHURST'S AUBURN GALLERY OF FINE ART, FOR GIVING US A PUMPKIN CARVING ADVENTURE

Auburn Gallery of Fine Art – Halloween Carving Event – Saturday, October 16th

 

A team of pro Great Pumpkin Carving experts spent the day creating a wide variety of extremely creative Pumpkins for the judging on Saturday evening.  Hot drinks and soup was available at the great Halloween event held at the Auburn Gallery of Fine Art. (Photo By Fred Schulz)

Auburn Gallery of Fine Art – Halloween – Pumpkin Carvings (Photo By Fred Schulz)

TRADITIONS ARE MADE THIS WAY - ONE PUMPKIN-CARVING EVENT FOLLOWED BY ANOTHER

AUTUMN IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL AND STRANGE INTRUSION OF MELANCHOLY UPON THE SENSES

    HERE IS A SHORT TRIBUTE, OF THIS HISTORIAN'S CHOOSING, DIRECTED TO THE KIND AND THOUGHTFUL FOLKS AT GRAVENHURST'S AUBURN GALLERY OF FINE ART, ON FIRST STREET, FOR PUTTING ON SUCH A FINE EVENT, ONCE AGAIN THIS YEAR, IN CELEBRATION OF ART IN MUSKOKA, THE GREAT DYNAMIC OF THE FARM FRESH PUMPKIN, AND THE CELEBRATION OF HALLOWE'EN. FRED SCHULZ WAS ABLE TO GET SOME NICE SHOTS OF THE PUMPKIN LIGHTING, AT THE GALLERY, SATURDAY NIGHT. DESPITE THE WIND, THE RAIN, AND THE COLD, THE GUESTS WERE TREATED TO A WONDERFUL EVENING. THIS COULD BE A MUCH BIGGER AND MORE WIDELY CELEBRATED LATE AUTUMN SEASON EVENT IN GRAVENHURST, IF MORE FOLKS GOT BEHIND THE AUBURN GALLERY INITIATIVE AND JOINED THE FUN. SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT FOR NEXT YEAR. THANKS TERRY AND FRIENDS FOR DOING THIS FOR OUR COMMUNITY....AND FOR THE PROMOTION OF ARTS IN MUSKOKA.

    "THEY ARE GIVEN TO ALL KINDS OF MARVELOUS BELIEFS; ARE SUBJECT TO TRANCE AND VISIONS, AND FREQUENTLY SEE STRANGE SIGHTS, AND HEAR MUSIC AND VOICES IN THE AIR. THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD ABOUNDS WITH LOCAL TALES,  HAUNTED SPOTS AND TWILIGHT SUPERSTITIONS; STARS SHOOT AND METEORS GLARE, OFTENER ACROSS THE VALLEY THAN IN ANY OTHER PART OF THE COUNTRY, AND THE NIGHT-MARE WITH HER WHOLE, NINE FOLD, SEEMS TO MAKE IT THE FAVORITE SCENE FOR HER GAMBOLS.
     "THE DOMINANT SPIRIT, HOWEVER, THAT HAUNTS THIS ENCHANTED REGION, AND SEEMS TO BE COMMANDER IN CHIEF OF ALL THE POWERS OF THE AIR, IS THE APPARITION OF A FIGURE ON A HORSEBACK WITHOUT A HEAD. IT IS SAID BY SOME TO BE THE GHOST OF A HESSIAN TROOPER, WHOSE HEAD HAD BEEN CARRIED AWAY BY A CANNON-BALL, IN SOME NAMELESS BATTLE DURING THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR, AND WHO IS EVER AND ANON SEEN BY THE COUNTRY FOLKS, HURRYING ALONG IN THE GLOOM OF NIGHT, AS IF ON THE WINGS OF WIND. HIS HAUNTS ARE NOT CONFINED TO THE VALLEY,  BUT EXTEND AT TIMES TO THE ADJACENT ROADS AND ESPECIALLY IN THE VICINITY OF A CHURCH, THAT IS AT NO GREAT DISTANCE. INDEED, CERTAIN OF THE MOST AUTHENTIC HISTORIANS OF THOSE PARTS, WHO HAVE BEEN CAREFUL IN COLLECTING AND COLLATING THE FLOATING FACTS, CONCERNING THIS SPECTRE, ALLEGE, THAT THE BODY OF THE TROOPER, HAVING BEEN BURIED IN THE CHURCHYARD, THE GHOST RIDES FORTH TO THE SENSE OF BATTLE IN NIGHTLY QUEST OF HIS HEAD, AND THAT THE RUSHING SPEED WITH WHICH HE SOMETIMES PASSES, ALONG THE HOLLOW, LIKE A MIDNIGHT BLAST, IS OWING TO HIS BEING BELATED, AND IN A HURRY TO GET BACK TO THE CHURCHYARD BEFORE DAY BREAK."

     THIS IS A PASSAGE FROM AN 1893 COPY OF THE WORKS OF WASHINGTON IRVING, AND OF COURSE, HIS WELL KNOWN STORY, "THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW."  THIS COPY, IN PRETTY BAD SHAPE NOW, WAS FOUND AT AN ESTATE AUCTION, OF THE EWING FAMILY, AT THEIR PIONEER FARM ON ZISKA ROAD IN BRACEBRIDGE, BACK IN MID 1980'S. IT WAS A WELL-READ BOOK, AND I HAVE ENJOYED MANY QUIET NIGHTS, BY OIL LAMP, READING THROUGH HIS TANTALIZING TALES OF THE HAUNTED HUDSON RIVER VALLEY. I PLAN TO REVISIT THIS BOOK, OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS, LEADING UP TO HALLOWE'EN, BECAUSE, AFTER ALL, THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, WAS NAMED OUT OF RESPECT TO WASHINGTON IRVING, BY CANADIAN POSTAL AUTHORITY / HISTORIAN / LITERARY CRITIC, WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR, IN AUGUST 1864. THUS THE TOWN, WHETHER IT ACCEPTS IT OR NOT, HAS A RIGHT TO CELEBRATE ALL THE WORK OF THIS REVERED, INTERNATIONALLY RECOGNIZED AUTHOR.

     AS A SIDE BAR EDITORIAL, OF TODAY'S BLOG, I WOULD HOPE THAT FOR ALL THOSE WHO SHARE THE SUPERSTITIONS OF HALLOWEEN, AND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW, AND THE REVENGE OF THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN, THAT WE JOINTLY, WITH ONE DETERMINED SPIRIT, HUNT DOWN THE JERK(S) WHO KICKED-IN THE FACE OF THE HUGE JACK 'O LANTERN, CARVED ON SATURDAY, IN THE OPERA HOUSE SQUARE, HERE IN UPTOWN GRAVENHURST.  WHAT A SHAME, TO HAVE HAD THIS HUGE PUMPKIN DONATED BY AUBURN GALLERY OF FINE ART, FOR THE PUBLIC TO ENJOY, TO HAVE IT WIND-UP BEING VANDALIZED BY THE COUNTY MORONS, WHO CAN'T CONTROL THEIR URGES TO BREAK SOMETHING OR OTHER......TO SATISFY THEIR NEED TO EXPRESS THEIR DOMINATION POWER OVER INANIMATE OBJECTS. SO, SHOULD A HEADLESS HORSEMAN RUN ACROSS THEIR PATH.....WELL, HOPEFULLY HEADS WILL ROLL.

     THERE IS SOMETHING STRANGELY WONDERFUL ABOUT THE FINAL WEEKS OF OCTOBER. THE ALMOST HEART-FELT SCENT OF BURNING LEAVES, TUGGING AT OUR EMOTIONS; REMINDING US OF ALL THE AUTUMNS PAST. MOST OF THE PAINTED HARDWOOD LEAVES HAVE FALLEN NOW, AFTER THE HANDIWORK OF RECENT WIND AND RAIN ACROSS MUSKOKA. STILL THERE IS AN ALLURING MELANCHOLY THAT REMINDS US, AT TIMES, OF VIVALDI'S "FOUR SEASONS," WHEN WE TRUNDLE THROUGH THE HAUNTED WOODLANDS, LISTENING TO THE WIND WHISPERING THROUGH THE THICK STAND OF EVERGREENS ALONG THE LAKE SHORE.
    THERE ARE OTHER TIMES, WHEN WE RECALL  ROBERT FROST'S POEM "BIRCHES,"  WHEN WE SUDDENLY COME UPON A LOWLAND, RINGED BY LEANING BIRCHES, SHADOWING OMINOUSLY OVER THE WELL-TRODDEN PATH. IF WE STOP FOR A MOMENT, WE CAN HEAR THE TRICKLE OF WATER IN THE CREEK, HIDDEN SOMEWHERE IN THE SEASON'S MATTED GRASSES; THE RUN-OFF OVER THE TINY CATARACTS, SOUNDING LIKE THE CLINK OF CRYSTAL GLASSES. THERE IS A NOSTALGIC WINDSONG THAT PLAYS IN THE DRIED FIELD GRASSES, THAT BRUSH TOGETHER IN THE DRIFT OF WIND, WASHING UP AND OVER THE FAR HILLSIDE, AND IT INSPIRES THOUGHTS OF YOUNGER DAYS, WHEN WE RAN THROUGH THIS PARKLAND WITH RECKLESS ABANDON; RACING FROM ONE CHUM'S HOUSE TO ANOTHER, WITH GREAT ANTICIPATION OF ADVENTURES YET TO COME THAT DAY.
      WE WALK QUIETLY NOW, ALONG THESE FAMILIAR LEAF-LADEN PATHS, THAT WE COULD WALK BLINDFOLDED; THROUGH THIS AUTUMN-TIME SYMPHONY OF THE SENSES.....ENGRAVED DEEPLY IN THE TRUE LIGHT AND SHADOW OF THIS NATURE OF MUSKOKA, AND IT'S NOT UNCOMMON, FOR US TO FEEL SLIGHTLY SAD, ABOUT THE ETCHING-CHANGES OF TIME; THE LOSS OF GOOD FRIENDS AND DEAR FAMILY, OVER THESE MANY YEARS OF VISITATION, TO PLACES WE USED TO VENTURE CHEERFULLY, OPTIMISTIC THIS WOULD ALL LAST FOREVER. AND THEN RECOLLECT TOGETHER, THE SPUN YEARS OF OUR LIVES. AT A BRIGHT, OPEN CORNER, ALONG THIS PATH THROUGH THE HARDWOOD FOREST, WE MIGHT SWEAR THAT WE HEAR SOMEONE CALLING US....FEEL AS IF WE HAD SOMEONE ELSE WALKING BESIDE US, TOUCHING OUR SHOULDER, OR BRUSHING OUR HAND, AS  IF TO TAKE FULL GRIP; THE SPIRITUAL SENSATION THAT YOU ARE NOT WALKING ALONE, YET THERE IS NO FEAR OF A MALEVOLENT ENTITY. IT MAY JUST BE THE MANIFESTATION OF A VIVID MEMORY, OF A PLEASANT WALK, OF LONG AGO, THAT WAS INSPIRED TO THOUGHT, BY THE SCENT OF THE DAY, THE LIGHT PATCHING ON THE LANDSCAPE, THE CARESS OF A REFRESHING BREEZE SCENTED OF THE LAKE. IT IS AT TIMES AN UNSETTLING FEELING, TO ONCE AGAIN, BECOME FAMILIAR WITH A POIGNANT MEMORY YOU HADN'T RECALLED FOR TIME AND MEMORIAM.  IT IS A HAUNTING FEELING, THAT YOU HAVE BEEN HERE BEFORE, AND ARE NOW, FOLLOWING THE SAME IMPRESSIONS OF FOOT-FALL, THAT YOU DID MANY YEARS BEFORE.
     IT IS THE TRICKERY OF SENSORY PERCEPTION, THAT THESE MEMORIES OF THE AUTUMN FOREST, COME BACK TO LIFE. THE LATE HARVEST SEASON HAS AS ITS TRADITION, PLAYING THE HEART STRINGS AS SOME GREAT HARP, UPON ITS GILT PEDESTAL, AND IT'S WHY WE COME FACE TO FACE, AT THIS TIME OF THE FAILING SEASON, WITH THE GHOSTS OF THE PAST....OUR PAST. WE RECALL, AT THE SAME TIME, WITH THIS FLOOD OF SENTIMENT, THE DAYS OF CHILDHOOD WHEN WE SO LOOKED FORWARD-TO, THE NIGHT OF HALLOWE'EN, WHEN THESE MOONLIT WOODS BECAME SO MUCH MORE ENCHANTED, WITH THE TWITCHING SHADOWS OF WITCHES AND HOBGOBLINS INSTEAD.
     MAYBE ON THIS SAME PATH, BATHED BY MOONLIGHT, ON THE EVE OF HALLOWEEN, THE HEADLESS HESSIAN MAY RIDE IN THE SILHOUETTE OF HISTORY, IN THE STRANGE FICTION, OF THE STORY-BOOK COME ALIVE. THERE IS SOMETHING SO INTIMATELY SPECIAL ABOUT THE HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION, AND THE SENSORY STIMULATION, WE EXPERIENCE, STANDING IN THE MOONLIGHT OF NIGHTS LIKE THIS.....WITH ALL THE GREAT EXPECTATIONS OF CHILDREN YELLING OUT LOUDLY, "TRICK OR TREAT."
     THANKS AGAIN TO AUBURN GALLERY OF FINE ART, FOR MAINTAINING A TRADITION, IN RECOGNITION OF THE FALL HARVEST, THE BELIEF THAT ADULTS LIKE TO CARVE PUMPKINS, AND THE CELEBRATION OF HALLOWEEN. ALL THOSE WHO PARTICIPATED AS PUMPKIN CARVERS, SHOULD FEEL ESPECIALLY PROUD TO HAVE BEEN PART OF A FLEDGLING PARTY THAT MAY GET BIGGER AND BETTER IN THE YEARS TO COME. HAPPY HALLOWEEN.....AND WATCH OUT FOR THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. CAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT ENCHANTMENTS ARE LURKING OUT THERE, IN THIS PLEASANTLY HAUNTED BALLIWICK OF SOUTH MUSKOKA.
     THANKS FOR JOINING FRED SCHULZ AND I, TODAY, FOR A LITTLE HALLOWEEN FUN.

A LITTLE SELF REFLECTION IN ABSTRACTION - MY WAY OF WRITING ABOUT MUSKOKA HISTORY

Terry Mclaughlin of Gravenhurst's Auburn Gallery Of Fine Art with a feathered friend. (Photo By Fred Schulz)

A Gravenhurst Halloween Happening. Auburn Gallery of Fine Art -  Pumpkin Carving by artists. There was a good crowd bundled up, who came out to participate in the annual lighting of the carved pumpkins, Saturday Evening at the gallery on First Street. More pictures to follow tomorrow. (Photo By Fred Schulz) 

THE ECCENTRICITIES I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD.....

THE WRITER YOU DON'T WANT TO LIVE WITH!


     I READ THE ROUGH DRAFT OF MY BLOG TO SON ROBERT, EARLIER THIS AFTERNOON, BECAUSE I APPRECIATE HIS HONEST FEEDBACK. I DON'T ALWAYS LIKE WHAT HE HAS TO SAY, OR CONCUR, BUT THE LAD HAS THE COURAGE TO STARE-DOWN THIS OLD FIREBRAND, AND OFFER SOME SUGGESTIONS TO IMPROVE  THE  FLOW OF THE COPY.
     TODAY ROBERT LISTENED, WHILE HE CLEANED A STOCK OF OLD RECORDS HE'D JUST PURCHASED, FOR HIS MUSIC SHOP, SAT THERE FOR A MOMENT OF SILENCE, LOOKED UP AT ME AND SAID, "YOU KNOW DAD, IF JACKSON POLLOCK HAD PAINTED YOUR PORTRAIT, THIS (BLOG) WOULD BE THE WRITTEN VERSION." SO THEN I HAD MY MOMENT TO PONDER. KEEPING IN MIND, POLLOCK WAS AN ABSTRACT ARTIST, I WASN'T SURE I UNDERSTOOD WHAT ROBERT MEANT. SO BEFORE I COULD ASK FOR CLARIFICATION, HE DISAPPEARED. SO I RE-READ IT TWICE, AND AFTER THINKING ABOUT IT FOR AWHILE, REALIZED HE WAS RIGHT. WRITING ABOUT REGIONAL HISTORY, POLITICS AND ANTIQUES FOR MOST OF MY YEARS IN THE PROFESSION, I OFTEN FORGET ABOUT MY OWN CONSTITUTION IN THIS REGARD; OTHER THAN THE BASICS I'VE BEEN PURSUING FOR DECADES. I SUPPOSE IT CAN BE SAID, THERE ARE TIMES WHEN I SIMPLY "FORGET MYSELF," AND MAYBE THIS MEANS I'M NOT A TRUE NARCISSIST. I ALWAYS WORRY ABOUT THAT. IT'S WHY I HIDE BEHIND MY WORK, AND STAY OUT OF THE PUBLIC EYE.....AT LEAST THAT'S HOW ROBERT SEES IT. MAYBE THE KID'S RIGHT. THIS WAS A VERY PERSONAL TOME, AFTER WEEKS OF BEING BURIED IN MUSKOKA HISTORY......BUNDLES OF ARCHIVES MATERIALS, UP TO MY EARS. THIS WAS WRITTEN ON MY DAY OFF. MAYBE I NEED MORE DAYS OFF, TO REALLY FIND MYSELF. NOTHING LIKE SELF THERAPY TO SET THE DEMONS FREE. SO HERE GOES. WELCOME TO MY GOOD GRACES AND MY NIGHTMARE ROLLED INTO ONE.

     I WRITE ABOUT MUSKOKA BECAUSE, WELL, IT'S ALWAYS THE CENTRE OF MY UNIVERSE. IT'S WHAT I SEE FRAMED IN MY MIND, AS I TRAVEL THROUGHOUT THE REGION. WHAT FRED SCHULZ SEES, AND CAPTURES THROUGH HIS CAMERA LENS, I WRITE ABOUT INSTEAD. MY VIEWFINDER DOESN'T DROP, THE SAME AS THE PHOTOGRAPHER LOWERS HIS CAMERA. I'VE BEEN WORKING LIKE THIS FOR YEARS, FRAMING LIFE AND TIMES OUT OF HABIT; MEANING I HAVE VERY FEW MOMENTS WHEN I'M NOT SETTING SOMETHING UP, TO OVERVIEW IN PRINT. IT BEGAN AS A FAILED EFFORT AS A NEWS AND FEATURE PHOTOGRAPHER, DATING ALL THE WAY BACK TO 1979, WHEN I BEGAN MY FUMBLING, INEPT WORK WITH CAMERA AND LENS.
     EARLIER TODAY, I STARTED TO WRITE, IN THIS BLOG, ABOUT THE WAY NEWSPAPER LIFE AND TIMES, DETOURED WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN AN OTHERWISE NORMAL PROFESSION, OF POSSIBLY WRITING NOVELS, OR GREAT WORKS OF NON-FICTION; MAYBE EVEN AUTHORDOM AS A REKNOWNED HISTORIAN. I WAS TRYING TO EXPLAIN, HOW I LOOKED AT THE WORLD, IN THOSE EARLY DAYS OF REPORTING, AS IF THROUGH A WINDOW FRAME MINUS THE GLASS. I SAT STARING AT THIS SCREEN FOR A HALF HOUR, TRYING TO FIND A WAY OF PRESENTING THIS WILD ABSTRACTION, SO THAT READERS WOULD BE ABLE TO IMAGINE HOW MY CREATIVE COGS SPIN, HIT AND MISS, DAY AFTER DAY. THERE IS A METHOD TO MY MADNESS. FIRST I HAD TO COMPENSATE FOR MY LACK OF SKILL IN PHOTOGRAPHY, BY BEING GOOD AT DESCRIBING EVENTS AND SCENES I WAS ATTENDING. HERE'S WHY.
    HERE'S HOW IT STARTED. I WAS A CRAPPY PHOTOGRAPHER. SO HOW DID THAT INFLUENCE MY WRITING PERSPECTIVE? WELL, BECAUSE I OFTEN SHOWED UP, AFTER ATTENDING A MAJOR NEWS EVENT, WITH NEGATIVES UNDER OR OVER EXPOSED, OUT OF FOCUS, OR FLASHED INTO AN OBLIVION OF HEAVENLY WHITE LIGHT; SO I WOULD ROUTINELY HAVE TO MAKE UP FOR THE LOSS OF THE NEWS PHOTOGRAPHS, BY THROWING A FEW EXTRA PARAGRAPHS INTO MY WEEKLY STORIES, TO PAINT THE IMAGE (I RUINED) WITH WORDS INSTEAD. I'M NOT KIDDING. I SCREWED UP SO MANY IMPORTANT PHOTOGRAPHS, IN MY EARLY YEARS OF NEWS REPORTING, THAT I BECAME VERY GOOD AT SUBSTITUTING WORDS FOR THE IMAGES I'D LOST. IT WAS THAT OR BE FIRED FOR INCOMPETENCE. SO I GOT INTO THE CRAZY, SLIGHTLY MISGUIDED HABIT, OF STUDYING MY SUBJECT ASSIGNMENT WITH SUCH HIGH INTENSITY, THINKING IN ADVANCE, THAT IF THE PHOTOGRAPHS DIDN'T TURN OUT, I'D AT THE VERY LEAST, BE ABLE TO COMPENSATE WITH A MORE COMPELLING LITERAL DESCRIPTION, FOR THAT WEEK'S NEWSPAPER ISSUE.
   EVEN TODAY, I AM STILL FRAMING WHAT I SEE ON MY TRAVELS, MUCH AS I DID WHEN I WAS EDITOR OF THE LOCAL PRESS. I LEARNED BY MISADVENTURE IN THE PHOTOGRAPHIC ARTS, TO PREPARE IN ADVANCE FOR THE POTENTIAL, MY PHOTOGRAPHS OF THE TRIP, OR SUBJECT, ANIMAL OR HUMAN, WOULD BE TOO POOR TO PUBLISH. MY DARK ROOM TECHNICIANS USED TO CRINGE, AND TREMBLE, WHEN I'D COME INTO THEIR OFFICE, WITH A BAG OF SPENT FILM, FROM THE WEEKEND ASSIGNMENTS. THEY KNEW THAT TO PULL A PICTURE FROM ONE OF MY WASHED-OUT NEGATIVES, IT WOULD TAKE THEM WAY TOO MUCH TIME, AS DEADLINE LOOMED. "CAN'T YOU JUST WRITE A STORY ABOUT IT INSTEAD," JOHN BLACK USED TO ASK ME, ALMOST CRYING WITH MY FILM IN HIS HANDS.....LOOKING AT THE SIX ROLLS HE'D HAVE TO DEVELOP, KNOWING FULL WELL HE'D BE LUCKY TO GET A DOZEN IMAGES FROM THE TWENTY OR THIRTY I'D REQUIRE FOR THAT WEEK. BUT I ALWAYS HAD IT, AS A BACK-UP PLAN, THAT I COULD FUDGE A SOLUTION, FOR A MISSING PHOTOGRAPH.....BY WRITING TO SUIT. BY NECESSITY, I DEVELOPED A WAY OF FRAMING THESE MOMENTS IN MY IMAGINATION, SO THAT WHATEVER I NEEDED TO INCLUDE, AS A PHOTO SUBSTITUTE, I'D HAVE THE DETAIL NEEDED TO MAKE A PICTURE, IF ONLY BY DESCRIPTION. SURE IT WAS A LITTLE AWKWARD AND UNPROFESSIONAL, SORT OF, BUT EVEN WHEN I GOT BETTER AT SNAPPING IMAGES, I STILL FELT COMPELLED, TO MAKE LASTING MENTAL IMAGES, IN ORDER TO REMEMBER HOW THE EVENT TRANSPIRED, AND EVOLVED. SO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU REPEAT THIS KIND OF EFFORT, OVER AND OVER AGAIN? YOU EITHER WIND UP BONKERS, A TAD WEIRD (STRANGE) OR ECCENTRIC, LIKE MY WIFE CALLS ME, FOR LACK OF A BETTER, ALL-ENCOMPASSING WORD, OR WORDS, TO DESCRIBE MY ODD PLACEMENT IN THE UNIVERSE.
    IT SOON BECAME SECOND NATURE, TO TAKE A PICTURE WITH MY MIND. I'M STILL FRAMING MY WAY AROUND MUSKOKA, THINKING LIKE A JOURNALIST, WHO WOULD LIKE TO TAKE A PICTURE, BUT IS ONLY ADEQUATE WITH A PEN. THIS IS HOW I WRITE MOST OF MY BLOGS. THANK GOODNESS, FRED SCHULZ HAS TAKEN CARE OF THE VISUAL QUALITIES OF THIS SITE. IT STILL DOESN'T MATTER, BECAUSE I CAN'T KICK THE HABIT NOW ANYWAY. IF YOU STOP TO CHAT WITH ME, FOR A FEW MOMENTS, I GUARANTEE YOU, I WILL FRAME THE MOMENT FOR POSTERITY, AND IT WON'T HAVE A DARN THING TO DO WITH DIGITAL IMAGERY. GOOD THING TOO. YOU'D LOOK TERRIBLE IF I WAS THE PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPHER.
     MAYBE YOU CAN IMAGINE THIS. POSSIBLY NOT. I'LL TRY TO EXPLAIN IT SIMPLY BUT, I HAVE A WAY OF COMPLICATING MY STORIES, WITH UNANTICIPATED RECOLLECTIONS.....THEN STUFFING THEM, LIKE FAT BALLOONS INTO A TINY BAG.
     IF I'VE TALKED TO YOU FACE TO FACE, YOU'LL APPRECIATE HOW FAST I CAN GET OFF THE BEATEN PATH, IN CONVERSATION, AND BE HEADING INTO THE ABYSS OF REMINISCENSES A SECOND LATER.
     SUZANNE CALLED ME ECCENTRIC THE OTHER NIGHT, BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT QUALIFIES SOMEONE AS BEING TRULY ECCENTRIC ANYWAY. I CAN BE A LITTLE NAIVE, ACCORDING TO MY CRITICS. SHE CALLED ME THIS, AFTER I BLURTED OUT, FOR NO APPARENT REASON, "DEAR, I THINK I'D MAKE A GREAT CORPSE!" "YOU'VE BEEN READING RIMSTEAD AGAIN, HAVEN'T YOU," SHE ASKED. SUZANNE WAS REFERRING TO MY PAUL RIMSTEAD BOOKS, I KEEP ON THE TABLE BESIDE MY CHAIR IN THE LIVING ROOM. I USE RIMSTEAD AS A SOURCE OF MOTIVATION, WHEN I'M FEELING A TAD MELANCHOLY AFTER A LENGTHY RESEARCH OR WRITING JAG. OR IF SUZANNE HAS YELLED AT ME FOR A NUMBER OF HOUSEHOLD ERRORS IN JUDGEMENT. IT HAPPENS. SO I FIND RIMMER'S OLD COLUMNS, HAVE THE KIND OF IRREVERENT SPARK, THAT PUSHES ME UP THE SIDE OF THAT MOUNTAIN, AND HANG-ON......, OVER THE OTHER SIDE WITH A HUSKY PUSH....A LITTLE LIKE LUGING DOWN LOOSE GRAVEL....BUT WITHOUT THE SLED. I ESPECIALLY LIKED THE SERIES OF COLUMNS HE WROTE FOR THE TORONTO SUN, CHALLENGING THE DEVIL TO A BATTLE OF TEMPERMENTS......SUGGESTING THAT IF THERE REALLY WAS A DEVIL OUT THERE, LURKING ABOUT IN QUEST OF LOST SOULS, THEN HE (OR SHE) WOULD SHOW UP AND HARVEST HIM. HE WAS THE KING OF DEVIL-MAY-CARE, WHEN IT CAME TO SOCIAL MISDEMEANORS. IF NOT, THEN IT WOULD BE PROOF TO THE WHOLE WORLD THAT THE DEVIL WAS, FIRST OF ALL, "CHICKEN!" SECONDLY, AND AS AN ANNOYANCE, JUST ANOTHER FICTIONAL ENTITY, WITHOUT HORNS, OR HEAT, OR A FORK TO POKE INTO FLESH, BEING USED UPON THE HUMAN SPIRIT, FROM OUR INFANCY, AS A THREAT TO REFORM BAD BEHAVIOUR. RIMSTEAD SURVIVED THIS PUBLISHED CHALLENGE TO THE DEVIL, TO PUT UP OR SHUT UP, BUT OF COURSE, FACT IS, HE STILL DIED A VERY YOUNG MAN, AT THE TOP OF HIS CAREER AS A WRITER. NONE OF US RIMSTEAD FANS WANT TO THINK THAT THE DEVIL MAY HAVE HAD A HAND IN THIS MATTER OF MORTAL FATE. BUT MOST OF US, AND I MEAN THE OVERWHELMING MAJORITY, WOULD NOT CHALLENGE THE DEVIL UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE. JUST IN CASE! RIMMER WROTE THESE COLUMNS SHORTLY AFTER THE 1970'S MOVIE, "THE EXORCIST," WAS RELEASED. LEAVE IT TO RIMSTEAD TO ASK THE DEVIL TO MAKE A GUEST APPEARANCE FOR PURPOSES OF HIS READERSHIP'S ENTERTAINMENT, EVEN IF IT MEANT HAVING THE AROMA OF SULPHUR UP HIS NOSE FOR A VERY LONG TIME.
     SO GETTING BACK TO THE "CORPSE" REFERENCE. TRUTH IS, I WAS ACTUALLY THINKING ABOUT A BILL COSBY RECORD, I HAD AS A TEENAGER, JUST BEFORE I MADE THE COMMENT, TO SUZANNE, THAT I RECALL HAD A SHORT PIECE ABOUT DEATH, COFFINS, AND HOW HE'D PUT SOME ENTERTAINMENT ZEST INTO THE VISITATION RITUAL. HIS IDEA WAS TO HAVE A TAPED MESSAGE PRE-RECORDED, FOR EVERY FRIEND AND RELATIVE ARRIVING AT THE FUNERAL HOME. WHEN THEY APPROACHED THE COFFIN, A RECORDING WOULD ADDRESS THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALLY, AS CONTROLLED BY, I SUPPOSE, A SOUND TECHNICIAN, WHO ALSO KNEW THOSE IN ATTENDANCE. THE RESPONSE WOULD BE SOMETHING LIKE, "HI BOB, HOW ARE THE WIFE AND KIDS. DON'T I LOOK LIKE MYSELF?" AS HE POINTED OUT, THE MOST COMMON RESPONSE WHEN VISITORS ENTER THE PARLOR, AND APPROACH THE DECEASED, IS "HE (SHE) REALLY LOOKS DEAD," AS IF THERE IS ANY OTHER WAY TO LOOK, UNLESS DRESSED AS A CLOWN, AND PROPPED UP IN A CHAIR. SO WHEN I MADE MY MOOD ALTERING STATEMENT, TO SUZANNE, I GUESS IT WAS JUST A CASE OF HEARING COSBY'S VOICE IN MY HEAD, AND MAKING A CASUAL, WHILE SOMEWHAT DISTURBING DECLARATION. "I MEAN, FOR GOSH SAKES, WHAT OTHER KIND OF CORPSE WOULD YOU BE," SHE ASKED, SHAKING HER HEAD,UNDOUBTEDLY WONDERING IF I WAS PLANNING SOME EXIT STRATEGY, THAT WOULD ALSO PRESERVE MY BOYISH GOOD LOOKS. "WELL, I SURE WASN'T  PLANNING TO EXPIRE VIA LAWNMOWER BLADE," I QUIPPED, WITHOUT GETTING EVEN A CHUCKLE FROM MY MATE BESIDE.
     "DEAR, I WAS JUST DAYDREAMING, NOT PRE-PLANNING....AND IT POPPED INTO MY HEAD......SO DON'T CALL IN THE UNDERTAKER YET," I SAID. "I'VE STILL GOT A FEW MILES OF FUEL LEFT IN THIS OLD MULE." I WAS JUST TRYING TO LIGHTEN THE MOOD. HER KNITTING-NEEDLE SOUNDS ANNOY ME, SO I HAVE TO DISTRACT MYSELF WITH DEEP, AND I LIKE TO THINK, PROFOUND THOUGHTS ABOUT LIFE AND THE HEREAFTER. "WHAT, BY TELLING YOUR WIFE, YOU'D MAKE A GOOD LOOKING CORPSE," SHE SHOT BACK. "YOU KNOW, IT'S BAD LUCK TO SAY THINGS LIKE THAT? GOD KNOWS WHAT YOU MIGHT STIR-UP MAKING FUN OF DEATH. FOR SOMEONE WHO IS SO SUPERSTITIOUS, AND KNOCKS WOOD FOR GOOD LUCK, TEN TIMES A DAY, DON'T YOU THINK THE GRIM REAPER LISTENS FOR HIS NAME TO BE MENTIONED?" "NEVER GAVE IT MUCH THOUGHT," I REPLIED. "HONESTLY, I DIDN'T!" THAT'S WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, I GOT THINKING ABOUT HOW RIMSTEAD CHALLENGED THE DEVIL, AND AS WILD AS THIS READS, IT MADE ME THINK ABOUT MY OWN DAYS AS A COLUMNIST, FOR THE HERALD-GAZETTE; AND THEN ABOUT HOW CRAPPY A PHOTOGRAPHER I WAS, FOREVER AND A DAY. SO CALL IT CREATIVE MADNESS, BUT THIS IS HOW I GOT THINKING ABOUT MY IMAGE FRAMING, FOR WRITING PURPOSES. I HAD ACTUALLY, FOR A MOMENT, PICTURED MYSELF IN A COFFIN, REACHING UP TO SHAKE SOME DUDE'S HAND, FRED SCHULZ I THINK IT WAS, WHO HAD COME FOR THE "TED VIEWING." IF SUZANNE ACTUALLY READ ANY OF MY COLUMNS, SHE'D FREAK OUT ABOUT THIS, AND HAVE TO PRAY TWICE AS LONG, TO SAVE ME FROM A FATE EVEN WORSE THAN DEATH. WHICH OF COURSE, IN SIMPLE LANGUAGE, IS HER BEING MAD AT ME FOR SOME INDISCRETION OR OTHER.
     FOR FUN, I WILL OCCASIONALLY, FOR A WEE LAUGH, READ A "WRITER HELPING WRITERS" INSTRUCTIONAL COLUMN, PUBLISHED IN A MAGAZINE, OR SOMETIMES EVEN IN THE LOCAL PRESS, AND WONDER TO MYSELF, WHAT KIND OF TUTORING I WOULD GIVE A ROOKIE SCRIBE UNDER MY WATCH. GOD FORBID I SHOULD DO SOMETHING SO EVIL, AS TO IMPRESS UPON A YOUNG SOUL, THE CORRUPT WAYS OF AN OLD FART, WHO VIEWS HIS SUBJECTS LIKE A STORM THROUGH A WINDOW. ONE WHO HAS, IF NOT AS A SUCCESSFUL WRITER, THEN AS ONE WHO HAS AT THE VERY LEAST, WALKED THE WALK, THROUGH THE QUAGMIRE OF SELF DOUBT AND DISCOVERY, FOR LONG AND LONG; JUST TO WIND UP AT THIS STATION IN LIFE, WONDERING HOW I'D LOOK AS DEATH WARMED-OVER. NOW WHAT FLEDGLING WRITER WOULDN'T BENEFIT, FROM A TELL-ALL, BARE-ALL OVERVIEW LIKE THIS? STRANGE AS IT MAY SEEM, THE THREAD WEAVING THROUGH ALL MY WRITING YEARS, HAS THIS "FRAMING" IDEAL ATTACHED, LIKE A PERMANENT VIEWFINDER, SUCH THAT I SEE ALL MY STORIES LIKE A PHOTOGRAPH, FIRST,.....BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL COULDN'T CAPTURE THE IMAGE ANY OTHER WAY, BUT WITH THE WORDS GOD GAVE ME, TO SAVE MY SOUL.
     THE REASON I WROTE THIS EXPLANATORY PIECE, WAS TO CONFESS AS BIOGRAPHY, SORT OF, HOW MY POIGNANT DANCE WITH ACTUALITY, AND WHAT I PERCEIVE AS ACTUALITY, COMPOUNDS WHAT, AND HOW, I VIEW MY SUBJECT....LIKE THE KIND OF BLURRED IMAGES I WAS FAMOUS FOR AS A PHOTOGRAPHER. TO ME, I'VE BEEN MAKING SENSE OUT OF DOUBLE IMAGE ABSTRACTIONS, SEEMINGLY FOR EVER. YET NOT THINKING OF IT AS UNUSUAL. IT'S MY CUMBERSOME WAY OF TAKING IT ALL IN, SO I DON'T MISS A THING. MY WRITING JAGS BEGIN WITH A MENTAL PHOTOGRAPH, AND WITHIN THAT FRAME, WILL BE ANYTHING THAT DISTRACTS ME UNTIL THE LAST OVERLAPPING PERIOD OF THE VERY LAST PARAGRAPH...AND IT WILL INCLUDE THE ANNOYING SENSORY PERCEPTION, THAT SOMEWHERE IN MY CREATIVE ENTERPRISE, THERE ARE THE SOUNDS OF KNITTING NEEDLES TAPPING AGAINST EACH OTHER, IN THAT HAUNTINGLY FAMILIAR CADENCE KNOWN WELL AT BIRCH HOLLOW. I WILL, AT ONE MOMENT, BE FRAMING AN OBSERVATION ABOUT A RAGING STORM, JUST THEN, THRASHING DRIED RASPBERRY CANES AT THE GLASS PANE, OF MY OFFICE WINDOW; AND THEN, SUBTLY BUT CONTENTLY INTRUDED UPON, BY MEMORY'S ELECTRIC SILHOUETTE; THE FAINT IMPOSING IMAGE OF SUZANNE KNITTING SOCKS, ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GREAT CHINA CUPBOARD, THAT HOLDS HER GLASS HEIRLOOMS. ONE ACTUALITY IS OVERLAPPED BY ANOTHER, AND THIS IS HOW I SEE EACH DAY, SECOND BY SECOND, MINUTE BY MINUTE. THUS, A STORM, AS PROFILED BY THIS WRITER, IS NEVER JUST A STORM. IT IS A STORM OUTSIDE OF A MODERN HOMESTEAD, WHERE A KNITTER KNITS, AND A WRITER PREPARES TO WRITE. A STORM OVER A HOUSE, THAT IS HOME TO CATS AND AN OLD DOG; A CRACKLING FIRE ON A BRICK HEARTH, A SPIDER'S WEB IN ONE CORNER OF THE CEILING, AND THE CHIRP OF A CRICKET FROM BEHIND A BASEBOARD HEATER. AS A PHOTOGRAPHER I WAS DISTRACTED BY WHAT I SAW IN THE VIEWFINDER. I COULD NEVER ACHIEVE THE PHOTOGRAPHIC-CAPTURE OF ALL THAT I SAW, AND PERCEIVED THROUGH THAT TINY PORTAL OF GLASS, SUCH THAT I WAS ALWAYS DISAPPOINTED IN THE BLACK AND WHITE, OF WHAT I SAW AS FULL COLOR. IF I SEEM ABSTRACT AT TIMES, VIA THESE BLOGS, IT IS FOR THIS REASON. MY DOUBLE IMAGE OF LIFE AND TIMES IS PERPETUAL...AND TERMINAL. SUZANNE CALLS ME ECCENTRIC AND POETIC. I AGREE WITH ONE OF THE TWO.