Small whole http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21473small.jpg Medium top http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21473medium.jpg Large whole http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21473.jpg

Crop http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21472crop.jpg BIGGER CROP http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21472crop2.jpg Small http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21472small.jpg Large http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21472.jpg Note the star stuck on her forehead ??

I have several generations of descendants of Ethan Allen Dickinson and his wife Deborah Brown. They were from Massachusetts. He was born abt Mar 4, 1779, and were in Aurelius, Cayuga Co. by 1840. I probably have some comments/source info on these folks if you wish to contact me directly. tbc8@cornell.edu Descendants of Ethan Allen Dickenson 1 Ethan Allen Dickenson b: Abt March 4, 1779 in Massachusetts d: June 17, 1858 in Aurelius, Cayuga Co., New York . +Deborah Brown b: December 29, 1793 in Rutland, Worcester Co., Massachusetts d: September 19, 1833 in Aurelius, Cayuga Co., New York Father: Soloman Brown Mother: Mary Davis ........ 2 Ethan Allen Dickinson, Jr. b: February 17, 1817 in Aurelius, Cayuga Co., New York d: February 13, 1888 ............ +Fanny Crofoot b: February 1, 1821 in Bristol, Ontario Co., New York d: October 2, 1895 in Cayuga Co., New York Father: Benoni Crofoot Mother: Margaret Griffith ................... 3 Deborah Dickinson b: Abt 1838 in Cayuga Co., New York ....................... +Silas A. Fisher b: Abt 1838 in Cayuga Co., New York d: Bef 1880 in Prob. Cayuga Co., New York Father: William Fisher Mother: Harriet ................... 3 Rodney Dickinson b: Abt August 23, 1839 d: October 2, 1842 ................... 3 George Washington Dickinson b: January 16, 1842 in Fosterville, Cayuga Co., New York d: October 2, 1928 in Auburn, Cayuga Co., New York ....................... +Mary Elizabeth Treat b: January 16, 1844 in New York d: February 20, 1912 Father: Manley Tucker Treat Mother: Mary Jean Gilbert ................... 3 Elias Dickinson b: December 19, 1846 d: September 22, 1847 ................... 3 Eliza Ann Dickinson b: Abt January 19, 1850 d: September 27, 1857 in Aurelius, Cayuga Co., New York ................... 3 Mary Ruthette Dickinson b: February 1856 in New York d: 1932 in Cayuga Co., New York ....................... +Wilbur Willis Gutchess b: February 1854 in New York d: Aft 1930 Father: Stephen Gutchess Mother: Sarah E. Willis ................... 3 Augusta Dickinson b: November 1850 in Cayuga Co., New York d: 1929 in New York ....................... +Oscar S. Gutchess b: August 1838 in New York d: 1917 in New York Father: Alexander Gutchess Mother: Lydia ........ 2 William Avery Dickinson b: March 28, 1819 in Aurelius, Cayuga Co., New York d: November 11, 1882 in Cayuga Co., New York ............ +Sally b: Abt 1824 in Aurelius, Cayuga Co., New York Father: Mother: ................... 3 William L. Dickinson b: Abt September 1865 d: August 26, 1879 in New York ........ 2 Harriet Dickinson b: Abt 1832 in New York On Nov 4, 2007, at 12:29 PM, Cynthia Dickinson wrote: > Looking for information regarding Dickinson's in Cayuga County between > 1800-1900. Any info welcome! > > Cynthia > > -----Original Message----- > From: nycayuga-bounces@rootsweb.com > [mailto:nycayuga-bounces@rootsweb.com]On > Behalf Of Shelley Cardiel > Sent: Sunday, November 04, 2007 11:24 AM > To: NYCAYUGA@rootsweb.com > Subject: [NYCAYUGA] COLONEY, HUNGERFORD, BELL, BROWNE,and BRITT Family > Autograph Album > > I've "rescued" an old autograph album which originally belonged to > "Emma". > Clues within the album suggest that Emma is related to the COLONEY, > HUNGERFORD, BELL, BROWNE, and BRITT Families. Based on limited > research I > was able to locate some census information for these families and have > included that information as well. The entries in this beautiful old > album > include the following: > > "Emma's" Autograph Album > Aka "Em" > > Family: > . Etta M. COLONEY, Meridian NY, 10 Apr 1879 "Sister" > 1860 census of Cato, NY: > > Dewitt C. COLONY, age 39, a Wagon Maker, born NY > Ann W. COLONY, age 39, born NY > Emiline C. COLONY, age 11, born NY (is it possible this is Emma?) > Mary E. COLONY, age 5, born NY > John DANEY, age 22, a Day Laborer, born NY > > 1870 census of Cato, NY: > > Dewitt C. COLNEY, age 49, a Wheelwright, born NY > Deborah COLNEY, age 48, a Dressmaker, born NY > Etta COLNEY, age 10, at School, born NY > > 1880 census of Cato, NY: > > Dewitt C. COLONEY, age 59, a Wheelwright, born NY, parents born NY/MA > Frank WARE, son-in-law, age 18, a Laborer, born NY, parents born NY > Etta WARE, dau, age 24, Keeping House, born NY, parents born NY > > . Mary J. HUNGERFORD, 28 Feb 1880 "Sister" > . Andrew HUNGERFORD, Somerset NY > 1900 census of Somerset, NY: > > Andrew HUNGERFORD, age 53, born Mar 1847, married 14 years, born NY, > parents > born NY, a Farmer > Ella HUNGERFORD, wife, age 54, born Dec 1845, married 14 years, no > children, > born NY, parents born VT > Metta HUNGERFORD, dau, age 19, born Oct 1881, born NY, parents born > NY, a > School Teacher > Lucy S. HILL, sister-in-law, age 58, born Mar 1842, born NY, parents > born VT > Mary HILL, sister-in-law, age 71, born Nov 1828, born VT, parents born > VT > Peter RAMSHAW, servant, age 53, born Mar 1844, born NY, parents born > NY, a > Farm Laborer > > . Stata H. BELL, Weedsport, 16 Mar 1888 "Cousin" > 1880 census of Cato, NY: > > John BELL, age 38, born NY, a Farmer, parents born NY > Sarah BELL, wife, age 30, born Canada, Keeping House, parents born > England/Scotland > Willard BELL, son, age 11, born NY, at Home > James BELL, son, age 10, born NY, at Home > Elmer BELL, son, age 7, born NY > Ada BELL, dau, age 3, born NY > Stata BELL, dau, age 1, born NY > > 1900 census of Throop, NY: > > John BELL, age 58, born Dec 1841, married 33 years, born NY, parents > born > NY, a Farmer > Sarah BELL, wife, age 52, born May 1848, married 33 years, 6 children/5 > living, born Canada, parentds born Scotland/England > Ada M. BELL, dau, age 24, born Mar 1876, born NY, a Stenographer > Stada H. BELL, dau, age 21, born Nov 1878, born NY, a Nurse > Charles BELL, son, age 18, born Jun 1881, born NY, a Farm Laborer > > . Mrs. Linnie L. BELL, Middletown NY, 23 Jul 1881 > . "A. L. H." "Your Mother" > . Ruth F. BROWNE, 19 Nov 1885 "Cousin" > . Florence BRITT, Ridgeway, 27 Feb 1880 "Cousin" > . Rosena HUNGERFORD, Somerset NY, 26 Feb > > Friends: > . J. D. SMITH, Meridian NY, 1 Mar 1879 > . M. E. SMITH, Meridian NY, 31 Mar 1879 > . Harry J. BENEDICT, Schuyler Falls, Clinton Co NY, 21 Jul 1889 > . Edith L. BIDELMAN, Medina NY, 2 Mar 1880 > . Eliza SMITH, Middletown NY, 23 Jul 1881 > . T. A. JONES, Hencens Creek Niagara Co NY, 17 Jul 1889 > . Sarah L. LAVID, Cayuga Co NY, 29 Aug 1879 > > I am hoping to identify Emma's family and see that this wonderful old > album > is returned to their care. If you are a member of this family, or know > someone who might be, please contact me. > > Thanks, > Shelley > > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > NYCAYUGA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes > in the subject and the body of the message > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > NYCAYUGA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message >

Looking for information regarding Dickinson's in Cayuga County between 1800-1900. Any info welcome! Cynthia -----Original Message----- From: nycayuga-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:nycayuga-bounces@rootsweb.com]On Behalf Of Shelley Cardiel Sent: Sunday, November 04, 2007 11:24 AM To: NYCAYUGA@rootsweb.com Subject: [NYCAYUGA] COLONEY, HUNGERFORD, BELL, BROWNE,and BRITT Family Autograph Album I've "rescued" an old autograph album which originally belonged to "Emma". Clues within the album suggest that Emma is related to the COLONEY, HUNGERFORD, BELL, BROWNE, and BRITT Families. Based on limited research I was able to locate some census information for these families and have included that information as well. The entries in this beautiful old album include the following: "Emma's" Autograph Album Aka "Em" Family: . Etta M. COLONEY, Meridian NY, 10 Apr 1879 "Sister" 1860 census of Cato, NY: Dewitt C. COLONY, age 39, a Wagon Maker, born NY Ann W. COLONY, age 39, born NY Emiline C. COLONY, age 11, born NY (is it possible this is Emma?) Mary E. COLONY, age 5, born NY John DANEY, age 22, a Day Laborer, born NY 1870 census of Cato, NY: Dewitt C. COLNEY, age 49, a Wheelwright, born NY Deborah COLNEY, age 48, a Dressmaker, born NY Etta COLNEY, age 10, at School, born NY 1880 census of Cato, NY: Dewitt C. COLONEY, age 59, a Wheelwright, born NY, parents born NY/MA Frank WARE, son-in-law, age 18, a Laborer, born NY, parents born NY Etta WARE, dau, age 24, Keeping House, born NY, parents born NY . Mary J. HUNGERFORD, 28 Feb 1880 "Sister" . Andrew HUNGERFORD, Somerset NY 1900 census of Somerset, NY: Andrew HUNGERFORD, age 53, born Mar 1847, married 14 years, born NY, parents born NY, a Farmer Ella HUNGERFORD, wife, age 54, born Dec 1845, married 14 years, no children, born NY, parents born VT Metta HUNGERFORD, dau, age 19, born Oct 1881, born NY, parents born NY, a School Teacher Lucy S. HILL, sister-in-law, age 58, born Mar 1842, born NY, parents born VT Mary HILL, sister-in-law, age 71, born Nov 1828, born VT, parents born VT Peter RAMSHAW, servant, age 53, born Mar 1844, born NY, parents born NY, a Farm Laborer . Stata H. BELL, Weedsport, 16 Mar 1888 "Cousin" 1880 census of Cato, NY: John BELL, age 38, born NY, a Farmer, parents born NY Sarah BELL, wife, age 30, born Canada, Keeping House, parents born England/Scotland Willard BELL, son, age 11, born NY, at Home James BELL, son, age 10, born NY, at Home Elmer BELL, son, age 7, born NY Ada BELL, dau, age 3, born NY Stata BELL, dau, age 1, born NY 1900 census of Throop, NY: John BELL, age 58, born Dec 1841, married 33 years, born NY, parents born NY, a Farmer Sarah BELL, wife, age 52, born May 1848, married 33 years, 6 children/5 living, born Canada, parentds born Scotland/England Ada M. BELL, dau, age 24, born Mar 1876, born NY, a Stenographer Stada H. BELL, dau, age 21, born Nov 1878, born NY, a Nurse Charles BELL, son, age 18, born Jun 1881, born NY, a Farm Laborer . Mrs. Linnie L. BELL, Middletown NY, 23 Jul 1881 . "A. L. H." "Your Mother" . Ruth F. BROWNE, 19 Nov 1885 "Cousin" . Florence BRITT, Ridgeway, 27 Feb 1880 "Cousin" . Rosena HUNGERFORD, Somerset NY, 26 Feb Friends: . J. D. SMITH, Meridian NY, 1 Mar 1879 . M. E. SMITH, Meridian NY, 31 Mar 1879 . Harry J. BENEDICT, Schuyler Falls, Clinton Co NY, 21 Jul 1889 . Edith L. BIDELMAN, Medina NY, 2 Mar 1880 . Eliza SMITH, Middletown NY, 23 Jul 1881 . T. A. JONES, Hencens Creek Niagara Co NY, 17 Jul 1889 . Sarah L. LAVID, Cayuga Co NY, 29 Aug 1879 I am hoping to identify Emma's family and see that this wonderful old album is returned to their care. If you are a member of this family, or know someone who might be, please contact me. Thanks, Shelley ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to NYCAYUGA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

I've "rescued" an old autograph album which originally belonged to "Emma". Clues within the album suggest that Emma is related to the COLONEY, HUNGERFORD, BELL, BROWNE, and BRITT Families. Based on limited research I was able to locate some census information for these families and have included that information as well. The entries in this beautiful old album include the following: "Emma's" Autograph Album Aka "Em" Family: . Etta M. COLONEY, Meridian NY, 10 Apr 1879 "Sister" 1860 census of Cato, NY: Dewitt C. COLONY, age 39, a Wagon Maker, born NY Ann W. COLONY, age 39, born NY Emiline C. COLONY, age 11, born NY (is it possible this is Emma?) Mary E. COLONY, age 5, born NY John DANEY, age 22, a Day Laborer, born NY 1870 census of Cato, NY: Dewitt C. COLNEY, age 49, a Wheelwright, born NY Deborah COLNEY, age 48, a Dressmaker, born NY Etta COLNEY, age 10, at School, born NY 1880 census of Cato, NY: Dewitt C. COLONEY, age 59, a Wheelwright, born NY, parents born NY/MA Frank WARE, son-in-law, age 18, a Laborer, born NY, parents born NY Etta WARE, dau, age 24, Keeping House, born NY, parents born NY . Mary J. HUNGERFORD, 28 Feb 1880 "Sister" . Andrew HUNGERFORD, Somerset NY 1900 census of Somerset, NY: Andrew HUNGERFORD, age 53, born Mar 1847, married 14 years, born NY, parents born NY, a Farmer Ella HUNGERFORD, wife, age 54, born Dec 1845, married 14 years, no children, born NY, parents born VT Metta HUNGERFORD, dau, age 19, born Oct 1881, born NY, parents born NY, a School Teacher Lucy S. HILL, sister-in-law, age 58, born Mar 1842, born NY, parents born VT Mary HILL, sister-in-law, age 71, born Nov 1828, born VT, parents born VT Peter RAMSHAW, servant, age 53, born Mar 1844, born NY, parents born NY, a Farm Laborer . Stata H. BELL, Weedsport, 16 Mar 1888 "Cousin" 1880 census of Cato, NY: John BELL, age 38, born NY, a Farmer, parents born NY Sarah BELL, wife, age 30, born Canada, Keeping House, parents born England/Scotland Willard BELL, son, age 11, born NY, at Home James BELL, son, age 10, born NY, at Home Elmer BELL, son, age 7, born NY Ada BELL, dau, age 3, born NY Stata BELL, dau, age 1, born NY 1900 census of Throop, NY: John BELL, age 58, born Dec 1841, married 33 years, born NY, parents born NY, a Farmer Sarah BELL, wife, age 52, born May 1848, married 33 years, 6 children/5 living, born Canada, parentds born Scotland/England Ada M. BELL, dau, age 24, born Mar 1876, born NY, a Stenographer Stada H. BELL, dau, age 21, born Nov 1878, born NY, a Nurse Charles BELL, son, age 18, born Jun 1881, born NY, a Farm Laborer . Mrs. Linnie L. BELL, Middletown NY, 23 Jul 1881 . "A. L. H." "Your Mother" . Ruth F. BROWNE, 19 Nov 1885 "Cousin" . Florence BRITT, Ridgeway, 27 Feb 1880 "Cousin" . Rosena HUNGERFORD, Somerset NY, 26 Feb Friends: . J. D. SMITH, Meridian NY, 1 Mar 1879 . M. E. SMITH, Meridian NY, 31 Mar 1879 . Harry J. BENEDICT, Schuyler Falls, Clinton Co NY, 21 Jul 1889 . Edith L. BIDELMAN, Medina NY, 2 Mar 1880 . Eliza SMITH, Middletown NY, 23 Jul 1881 . T. A. JONES, Hencens Creek Niagara Co NY, 17 Jul 1889 . Sarah L. LAVID, Cayuga Co NY, 29 Aug 1879 I am hoping to identify Emma's family and see that this wonderful old album is returned to their care. If you are a member of this family, or know someone who might be, please contact me. Thanks, Shelley

Thomas-Morse Aircraft Corp 1917 catalog (based in Ithaca, NY) Here is the whole catalog as a photo gallery http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/thomas_morse_web/ BELOW ARE BIGGER IMAGES Cover http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21455small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21455medium.jpg Page 2 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21456small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21456medium.jpg Page 3 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21457small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21457medium.jpg Page 4 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21458small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21458medium.jpg Page 5 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21459small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21459medium.jpg Page 6 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21460small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21460medium.jpg Page 7 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21461small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21461medium.jpg Page 8 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21462small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21462medium.jpg Page 9 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21463small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21463medium.jpg Page 10 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21464small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21464medium.jpg Page 11 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21465small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21465medium.jpg Page 12 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21466small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21466medium.jpg Page 13 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21467small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21467medium.jpg Page 14 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21468small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21468medium.jpg Page 15 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21469small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21469medium.jpg

*http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures214/21452.html* * Courtney and Cornell Rowing* By Charles Van Patten Young Ithaca, NY Cornell Publications Printing Co. 1923 CHAPTER I EARLY DAYS Charles E. Courtney was born on November 13, 1849, at Union Springs, New York, a quaint village near the northern end of Cayuga Lake. His father, James Thomas Courtney, was a landscape gardener, a hard-working, frugal man, with a large family of seven children; not so large for those days, however, as it would be today. He had brought his family from Salem, Massachusetts, nine years before, traveling in a packet, a mode of travel then much in vogue. Charles was the next to the youngest child, and was but six years of age when his father died, so that his only recollection of his father was that of a big, burly, good-natured man of deep voice and rough exterior, who would carry him down the road on his back or romp with him and his older brothers after the evening meal had been eaten and the dishes put away in the large, old-fashioned cupboard, the most prominent piece of furniture in the house. Near the house, but farther back from the road, stood an old Quaker meeting-house, which was of perennial interest to the children, who never grew tired of watching, and at times imitating, the solemn-faced Quakers stalking in through the open door. At times they even ventured, in the growing dusk of evening, to tiptoe up to the door and peek in, or even climb up on the window ledge. If rebuked for this, the boys would hie them down to the lake shore, less than a stone's throw distant, and amuse themselves until, after a patient but vain waiting for the stirring of the spirit, the silent throng rose and dispersed as silently as they had come. Strange to relate, Union Springs was at that time the most noted place in the State for pleasure and racing yachts, and from his earliest boyhood, Charles was about the water, climbing into skiffs that might be lying by the dock, falling overboard 12 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING and being fished out by some chance on-looker, and even, as he grew older, rowing one of the rich "sports" out to his anchored craft. There was a great strife on between the Springs and Aurora as to which could build or impress into service the fleeter yacht. The old residents will even to this day talk about the race between the Cayuga Chief and the Flying Cloud, in which the Cayuga Chief fouled a buoy and was declared loser. No one in Union Springs, however, would ever yield supremacy to the Aurora craft. Later when the Island Queen followed the Cayuga Chief, and defeated in turn the Ashland of New York, and the Mohawk Belle of Geneva and the Algonquin of Seneca, the whole countryside went wild. Although the struggle was kept up for thirty years or more, interest never flagged, so that love for boating was bred into every boy's bones. "Why, I can well remember now at sixty-five years/' Court-ney said in speaking of those days, "how we used to run away from school to help the boys put black lead on the bottoms of the boats and polish 'em up. Even at an earlier date, when I was about six years of age, I was the proudest boy in the Springs. One of the boats had just been completed but would not slide off the ways. Finally one of the workmen caught me up and tossed me aboard, and with the additional weight she slid gracefully into the water and I was the hero of the hour. When I was seven I could row a boat and go anywhere on the water, and we had races between boys about every evening after school. "When I was about twelve years old, I decided that it was about time to build a boat of my own. I got hold of a twelve-foot plank for the bottom, which I cut all around with an axe, canoe-shape, and then I took two hemlock boards for the sides, which I endeavored to nail to the plank and fasten at the ends, at the same time plastering up all the chinks with yellow clay. It was wonderful to look at, but the water would force off the clay in no time, in spite of all I could do, and then down she would go. We had great fun racing in her, however," he added reflectively, "the conditions of the race being to see who could 13 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING go around a stick about fifty feet out in the lake and back again before the craft would sink. That was one race that no one ever won. "When I was about the age of fourteen, I had my first chance at sailing a boat. Captain John Carr was my tutor, and there wasn't anything about sailing a boat that he didn't know. He was born and raised on the lake shore and had been a fisherman and sailor all his life. In a short time I got so I could handle the boat to his satisfaction, and then he would take me out into the lake a considerable distance, crawl into a floating battery, or sink-box, he had devised, and after carefully placing a hundred or a hundred and fifty decoys in a strategic position, he would send me off with the sail-boat to scare up the ducks. That sink-box, by the way, was quite a unique affair, having the usual platform with a box-like depression large enough to conceal the hunter, but also with canvas wings extending out on all sides to break the swell of the waves. "I remember one day in particular, as we were returning from one of these trips in which John had bagged as many ducks as the two of us could comfortably carry, I espied some ducks not far out from what we called the cribbing. John was an excellent shot, in spite of the fact that he wore the large, old-fashioned spectacles common in those days. Well, I played a little joke on him. In the excitement of the moment, and while getting his gun ready for action, his spectacles were knocked off. I picked them up, slyly removed the lenses, and held them until he was ready for them. 'Wait until I put on my spy-glasses,'— he always called them 'spy-glasses'—and after fumbling with them for a moment, always intently watching the ducks, he gravely adjusted the rims. 'Yes,' he said, 'They're canvas backs, and no mistake.' I said, 'Are you sure those glasses are a great help to you?' 'Yes,' he replied, 'I couldn't hit that house yonder without them,' and just then, as the ducks started off, he blazed away and dropped three of them. Without saying a word, I stooped over and pretended to pick something up from the ground, and then I asked, holding up the lenses, 'Why, where did these come from?' His face was a study for a moment, 14 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING and then he turned a half-quizzical, half-angry look at me and muttered, 'You durned little fool—you never did know anything!' The joke was too good to keep, and it wasn't long before the whole village was laughing at old John." About this time Charley and a chum, Billy Cozzens, by name, decided to have a boat of their own. Billy had got hold of a magazine article describing McGregor's trip through England, Scotland, and various parts of Europe in a craft which was only twenty-four inches wide, nine inches deep, and sixteen feet long, which was called the Rob Roy. That was the kind of boat they started out to build with no other tools than a buck-saw, a hammer, and a smooth plane, with no lumber, or money wherewith to buy it, and not a great deal of experience. The lumber was soon acquired in one way or another,—just how need not be told here, although no one was ever the wiser—and they set to work. The boat was finally built, and if their words are to be believed, she was a beauty. Both of the boys were natural mechanics, and while following the dimensions of the other boat, added some features of their own, the most noticeable one being a red and white cedar deck. They decided not to take her on the lake at first, but to show her off down at Howland's mill-pond, which was a common rendezvous for the boys of the vicinity. When some of the older men saw the boat which the boys were carrying, they shook their heads and said the boys had built themselves a coflin. No one had ever seen such a narrow craft, but soon every one was taking a turn in her, each trying to make the circuit of the pond with a double-bladed paddle in the shortest possible time. This second Rob Roy did a yeoman's service on that pond, until finally she was called upon to play a more worthy part. In spite of the fact that when his father died he left a large family in poor circumstances, Charley and the rest of the children were kept at school. Although it meant hard work for the mother, they all managed to get more than the average education, finishing in the high school if not graduating. Charley was large and strong for his age, so that is it not to be wondered 15 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING at that, with his interest in boating and his assisting his old friends Carr and others in their boat-building operations, it was decided that he should be a carpenter. He left school to start out to learn the trade with Jerry Jaquith, and later worked with Emmet Anthony, a budding architect, with whom he planned and built several houses and a small church, until Anthony went to Denver to live. Then Charley went into the carpentry business with the only brother still at home, under the name of the Courtney Brothers. His oldest brother had gone to California in the spring of 1861, and the next brother entered the Civil War and starved to death in Libby Prison. The Courtney Brothers did a substantial, if not a highly remunerative business and were known throughout the countryside as splendid fellows to deal with. Apparently Charley was to be a carpenter all his life, but one never knows what apparently insignificant events or incidents may affect the whole course of a life. CHAPTER II COURTNEY WINS HlS FlRST RACE Even while building houses he was accustomed in the evening and at other odd moments to paddle around in the old Rob Roy which he and Cozzens had built. One evening, while these two were sitting in the back room of the Post Office, talking about nothing in particular, one of their acquaintances, Noyes Collins by name, walked in and sat down, remarking as he did so, "Say, Charley, I saw in the papers today that they have made a boat out of paper, twelve inches wide and thirty feet long." Charley replied, "Noyes, they must be crazy," and they all laughed at the idea. "But anyway, it's so," Noyes added, "and a fellow named Tyler is going to row a race in her, if any one will compete with him." Then Cozzens said, "Charley, let's put oars on our boat; we can find some lumber right here in Union Springs and make them ourselves." No sooner said than done, and a few days after the oars had been completed and tried out, notice came that a single scull race was advertised to take place at Aurora on a certain date. Captain Angel brought the news and at the same time suggested to Charley that he might take the little boat he and Cozzens built and go in. He said Mr. Morgan of Aurora had asked him if there was anybody at the Springs who could row in a boat, and he had replied that Charley Courtney had built a small boat in which he had recently put oars, and that he would try and persuade him to enter. Everybody at once took it up and all were determined that he should go in; and so, says Charley, "I finally consented to go, as I thought the Rob Roy, with her new oars, was about the finest and swiftest boat in the world. The big boats and yachts all went ahead, and I took the little craft in the steamer the next morning. Shall I ever forget the expression on the boys' 17 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING faces when I met them on the dock at Aurora? Collins had a face about a mile long, and he exclaimed to me in a hoarse whisper, 'My God, there's two men here with those shell boats, and you never saw such freakish-looking crafts in your life!' "You have hard of people's hearts going down into their boots. When I went over into the storehouse with Collins, and saw those boats like two bars of polished steel—twelve inches wide and finished as beautifully as a piano body, I said, 'Let's go and cover my boat up!' I had taken her from the steamer and put her out on Captain Angel's sail-boat, and she was quite a curiosity to the crowd,—a home-made craft in every sense of the word. Some city youths were standing around her, poking each other in the ribs, and giving sly winks, and I was just as ashamed of her as I could be. She weighed at least eighty pounds, which was probably twenty pounds more than the other two put together. "Well the race was called at about three o'clock in the afternoon. The excitement was up to fever heat. Those two racing shells from New York were a complete surprise to everybody. As for me, I don't suppose I shall ever be able to describe the feelings and sensations that came over me when I took my position between them. There were looks of pity in the faces of my friends; they wanted to see me win, of course, but no one thought I had the ghost of a show. W. H. Bogart, of Aurora, started the race, and when I sat there waiting for the word, I realized that I was in a boat and I was out there to pull as I had never pulled before. "But if those shell boats were a surprise, that race was a bigger one. Of course, my opponents were no good as oarsmen, or I never could have beaten them, but I just literally ran away from them. Much to their disgust and to the delight of the crowd, I crossed the line when they were still desperately trudging along somewhere down the course, and my first race was won. I think more of the little cup that was given to me as the prize on that occasion than any prize I have ever won. 18 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING "That was in August, '68, and it marked the first real outbreak of rowing at the Springs. After that we had local races every year. The first time I ever saw a man in a boat who could really row was at Buffalo on July 4th, 1870. I had heard that there was going to be a shell boatrace up there, and busy as we were at house-building, I couldn't resist the temptation to go and see it. The race was between Harry Coulter, a famous professional, and Bob Berry, of Toronto, over a two-mile course with a turn at the end of the mile. The time of the winner was 15:15. As I had been covering a similar course in almost two minutes, less time, I went back home convinced for the first time that I could row. Nothing would do then but that I must have a shell; and not long afterward an opportunity presented itself for purchasing at Geneva a lap-streak boat, twenty-three feet long and nineteen inches wide. In this I rowed my second race of note at Syracuse in 1873 (June 25), when I defeated two entries from New York, Charles Smith and William Bishop, by something like a quarter of a mile over a three-mile course." CHAPTER III His First Visit To Cornell University IT was the year before this that Charles Courtney first saw Cornell University. While he went up as the stroke of the Springport four-oared crew to take part in their first regatta, he was curious to see this "Godless institution" about which so much had been written in the papers of the State. His descriptions of the Campus is interesting. "It was just after a thaw," he said, "and before all the snow had disappeared. After climbing the steep hill, and wading through mud in places up to my ankles, I came to the college dormitory, which appeared to me to be a very imposing building. Then I crossed an old, rickety bridge and came upon the Campus, although it didn't look much like a campus then. Pools of water, a result of the recent thaw, and through which I was obliged to wade, were standing in various places. Walks and carriage-ways were in no wise numerous. A sort of drive, which apparently had engineered itself, stretched across what to me had the appearance of being a converted pasture rather than a campus, as I had thought of it. A sidewalk of boards straggled along toward the buildings in the distance. It had no foundation and consequently its planks shook and tottered, and in places where no central plank had been laid, the gravel had been washed out and the walking was even more precarious. In some places along the walk the snow still lingered in drifts. Floundering along, I finally came to the South Building, and strolling beyond it I suddenly became conscious of experiencing the sensations of a man in a deep gravel pit. There was a gravel bank to the right and a gravel bank to the left, and at irregular intervals were deep holes, some of them excavations for sand, some natural depressions, and some that were apparently ditches for the laying of pipes. Lying all around was a lot of rotting timber, broken slate, and fragments of stone, and as I went on I ran into several cows straying from the barns not far away. My first impression of the University was anything but inspiring; but the next 20 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING year when I returned, a great deal of the building debris had been cleared away, the Sage Building was practically completed, and I began to feel that after all Cornell was going to be something." The regatta for which he had made this first trip to Ithaca was held in the afternoon, and to use the words of the sporting writer of The Cornell Era of a later day, "Charley Courtney was the stroke of that memorable crew, and that explains what follows. The Cornell crew was stroked by Dole, the trainer who had been secured to prepare a crew for the Intercollegiate Regatta, with Button, Goldsmith, and Bean the other members. The boat used by the University crew was named The Buffalo, and was supposed to be quite a triumph of the boat-builder's art, while the boat used by the other crew, The Sam Weller, was thirty or forty inches wide and loomed up like a canal-boat. She had been specially selected for the Springport crew because it was thought no four men could bail her out and at the same time propel her fast enough to win a race. No wonder that as that 'big four' came sweeping in ahead of our boys, we stared at them in silent wonder. The second race was for single scullers and we had only one, Jack Elseffer, but he had not lost a race, or even been hard-pressed in the tryouts. s His antagonist was— Charley Courtney. Poor Jack rowed as if his life were at stake, and he evidently thought there was a chance for him to win, for he was never more than a few feet behind the other boat. In the following years, when Charley swept all the amateur scullers before him, we understood better why it was that Jack could not overcome that exasperating lead." CHAPTER IV He Acquires A Racing Shell Shortly after his Syracuse race in '73, Charley was invited to go to Saratoga for their big regatta in September, and for this event he had to have a racing shell. The young man was working for a dollar a day and paying board out of that wage, and while the "high cost of living" was not at that time an acute problem at Union Springs, it was no easy matter to raise one hundred and twenty-six dollars. Friends chipped in, however, Dr. Fordyce, the genial old village doctor, generously helped to make up the balance, and Charley became the proud possessor of a real "honest to goodness" racing shell, twelve inches wide, thirty feet long, and weighing only thirty pounds. What a beauty she was! And many an evening, after the day's work was over, a crowd would collect on the dock to watch her go skimming through the water, propelled by the strong arms and stout heart of her owner. Finally the time for the race approached and, to take up Charley's own account: "I left for Saratoga with fifteen dollars in my pocket, which, I reckoned, ought to pay my board for at least three weeks. Upon my arrival, I went at once to the Grand Union Hotel, which I had heard about through a friend from Union Springs who was employed there. When I went to the desk and asked the clerk about the price of board, he told me three dollars and a half a day; I nearly dropped. However, I went into the dining-room and I was never so scared in my life. I had never been as far away from home, and I felt so awkward and green that I imagined every one was looking at me; I simply couldn't eat, hungry as I was. If I reached for a fork, I stuck my fingers into the butter, the soup was so hot I burned my tongue, and in reaching for a glass of water I knocked over the celery dish and things were a mess. The waiter glared at me. I thought the best thing for me to do was to bolt; so out I rushed, feeling that I had made myself a laughing stock. I walked along the lake and, about the time I cooled down, came to Moon's Hotel. That looked good to me and in I went. There 22 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING I met an old friend, John Morrissey, who immediately took me under his wing. He introduced me to Mr. Moon, and we sat down at the family table; and while Morrissey told us about his history and his early training, I ate. I shall never forget that dinner—biscuit, brook trout, black bass, partridge,—everything that was good, and I was so interested in the conversation that I never noticed until afterwards that the others had long finished and were just watching me eat. "Well, in a few days I got a little more used to things, and was soon busy practicing for the race. When I wasn't rowing, I was out back of the boathouse lying in the grass, as I didn't like to be stared at as one fresh from the country. At first I didn't feel comfortable with only fifteen dollars in my pocket, but when I plucked up courage one day and told Mr. Moon how much money I had and wondered whether that would see me through the eight days before the race, he just laughed, and guessed it would be enough. After that I slept better. There were twelve other entries besides myself, and while there were very few who thought enough of my chances to bet any money on me, I knew I could win, and wrote the folks home so. It was a beautiful day on which the race was rowed, and it must have been a great sight to see those thirteen men in line and thirteen pairs of oars flash in the sunlight. "When I think back over it all, I have to smile at some of the funny things that occurred. I was pretty nervous at the start and I started out to row as if it were a hundred-yard sprint. My boat went ahead so fast that spectators began to yell, 'Whoa! Whoa!' and I could hear them laugh, but I thought they were making fun of me and rowed all the harder. When I got down to Ramsdall's Point I was so far ahead that a young man, who had a lady in a boat with him, asked me if I wouldn't stop and take a drink of lemonade. 'You have time enough/ he said, but of course I rowed all the harder. I won in 14:15, which was one minute faster than Josh Ward's professional record, and they all thought it was a wonderful performance; but even at that I felt I had a little up my sleeve in reserve had I been pushed. COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING 23 "After the race I went up to pay my board, and asked what the bill was. 'Well, young man/ said Mr. Moon, 'come with me into the sitting-room and we'll settle up.' We went in and he sat down at a table and pulled out a roll of bills and counted them out. 'There!' he said, 'I won three hundred dollars on this race—you take half of it.' He insisted upon my taking the money, and he didn't charge me a cent for board besides, and then he hitched up his horses and took me and my boat back to Saratoga. Then James H. Brister, of Union Springs, came to my room, and said he had placed a little on the race, and as I had done all the work I ought to have a share in the result. He had won six hundred dollars and gave me half of it. I felt like a Rothschild. I never had so much money before. I left Saratoga with $450 in my pocket, besides the fifteen dollars I had brought, and I tell you I never let go of that money—kept it right in my hand until I got home. Mother was glad I had won, and the money helped; but she had opposed my going from the start. She was afraid it might lead me to on other races, and it did; for in the next few years I rowed eighty-eight races in all—and never lost a race." CHAPTER V courtney turns professional >From the time that Charley turned professional in 1877 his troubles began and he always referred to that action with regret. "I was a fool to do it," he said, "but I was led into it,—urged on by my friends against my better judgment." He had up to this time maintained his wonderful strength and physique. He had shown no evidence of overwork or physical strain; but Dr. VanCleve of Watkins warned him that he had trained to a point where nature would soon begin to assert her rights. This, however, did not check him, so intoxicated with success was he. At Saratoga, with Frank Yates as a partner, he had rowed the fastest race for two miles ever rowed in this or any other country. The record, 12:16, stands today. At Aurora, in a single scull, against a double scull, he had rowed two miles in 13:14, the best time on record for a turning race, and in practice he had rowed a mile in six minutes, and a mile and a half in nine minutes. He thought that even if he did go in for professional rowing, it would only be for a short time, and he could stop at any time; but he found that it was not so. The first time he was ever beaten was by Ned Hanlan at Lachine, in 1878; but the race was so close and there was so much dispute as to which was the better oarsman, that finally, after a great deal of newspaper talk and criticism, papers were signed for another race, to be rowed over a five-mile course, with turn, on Chautauqua Lake, on October 8th, 1879. That race never came off, because on the morning of the 8th it was discovered that Charley's shell had been sawed in two. Charles S. Francis, a lifelong friend, editor of The Troy Times, and later Ambassador to Austria under President Taft's administration, describes what follows: "It seems as if never since the firing on Fort Sumter did an event so arouse the anger of the American people. In every city, village, and hamlet, wherever a telegraph wire or a newspaper penetrated, the storm of indignation raged. And, not strange at all to relate, but perfectly natural, as has always been the case from time immemorial, the majority did 25 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING not place the blame where it belonged, but in their blind and unreasonable anger, accused Courtney of sawing his own boat, the last man on earth who would have done such a thing. His whole racing career, from the time he won his first silver cup at Aurora, had been without a breath of suspicion and without reproach. He never touched a drop of liquor, he did not use tobacco, he did not gamble, he knew no fast companions. He was the same upright, honest country boy that he was when he first went to Saratoga with but fifteen dollars in his pocket. Success had not turned his head, and feeling that he had not been decisively beaten, if at all, at Lachine, he was ready to try again. He was in perfect condition for the race and felt confident of winning. "What happened? Hanlan, whose convivial habits were well known, had been out the day before. He had listened to the voice of the charmer and apparently had forgotten all about the race. His friends and backers became alarmed. A conference was held with Courtney that same night, and efforts were made to postpone the race. When these failed, the entire prize of $6,000 was offered him if he would consent to make the race a draw. The reply was characteristic of the man. 'Gentlemen/ he said, 'the race will be rowed tomorrow, and whoever wins it will have to row for it!' A suspicion of foul play never entered his head; but before the morrow dawned, those whose bribe had been spurned were avenged, whether through their own or the machinations of others will never be known." So much by way of explanation. Whatever be the truth of that much discussed event, and whoever was responsible for the dastardly deed, it is the one event in Charles E. Courtney's life that threw a shadow over his otherwise clear and sunny sky. He bore the burden all his life, and if ever a man's actions and attitude, both preceding and following the incident, belied insinuations and accusations, which it need hardly be said were never credited for a moment by those who knew him intimately, it certainly can be said that he lived them down He was so amazed and absolutely thunderstruck by the storm of abuse and vituperation that swept over him that he never 26 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING even raised a voice of protest, and in his later years he was always entirely willing to rest upon his record for vindication. Whenever in the course of his long and busy life the matter was broached with some heat now and again by one of his friends, he always waved him aside with, "Never mind, my boy; it will all come out right in the end." Whatever arguments may be brought forward in exculpation of this particular instance, however, there can be no question that Courtney's career as a professional oarsman was marred by untoward incidents and accidents which gave some ground for the suspicion under which he fell. The probable explanation for some of the actions of which he was guilty during this period was that he not only became intoxicated with success, as he himself intimated, but was early seized upon by professional gamblers, who took advantage of his inexperience and callowness and used him for their own ends. In any case no one more bitterly lamented the mistakes of his professional career than did Courtney himself; and it can be said to his credit that from that time to the day of his death suspicion never in any shape or form attached itself to him. In all his private dealings he was the soul of honor, a genial, good-natured, hard-working, serious-minded man, who in spite of the mistakes of earlier life so far succeeded in impressing his personality and character upon many succeeding generations of students that his name came to be the synonym for straight-forward, rugged honesty. CHAPTER VI early athletics at cornell COURTNEY'S career as a trainer began in '75 with a class of young ladies from the Seminary at Union Springs. For several years he spent many an hour patiently instilling in their minds some of the rudiments of rowing. Every now and then, too, he repeated his early visit to Ithaca, viewing with increasing interest the growth of the University and the enthusiasm manifested by the students in rowing matters. When John Ostrom's varsity six defeated an improvised but matured crew which he took down to give them practice, he was as pleased as were the college boys themselves, and he predicted great things for the crew—which, it may be mentioned, were afterwards realized. Ostrom, partly as a result of his own independent and clear-headed deductions, but partly as a result of observing the stroke of the Union Springs champion, had hit upon a stroke with the same sharp, hard catch, and the same quick start on the recovery, which has always been so characteristic of the "Courtney stroke." Courtney once said that if John Ostrom, the "Old Man" of the early days, had only stayed on a few years until he took up the thread in '83, Cornell crews would have been propelled by one continuous stroke throughout their history, with the possible exception of '84, when he was busy with his professional rowing and John Teemer was the coach. In speaking of these early days, and the character of the students and their activities, many anecdotes, more or less humorous, have been elicited from the "Old Man." "Particularly was I impressed," he said when he was in one of his more communicative moods, "with the rugged character of the students of that early period. On two occasions I almost took an involuntary part in what they called a 'cane rush.' The first rush occurred down town when I was standing in front of the old Clinton House in the early fall. A student, evidently a freshman, suddenly appeared from somewhere bearing a cane. This seemed to be the signal to a lot of sophomores in the 28 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING neighborhood, and a spirited rush ensued then and there, the crowd surging from one side of the street to the other, until the cane was reduced to a condition in which it was not a cane. That ended the rush for that time, except that the sophs got hold of and broke up a few more canes which were put into the hands of freshmen by some interested juniors. "The second occasion was a much more pretentious affair and occurred on the Campus, where I had gone to look up some boating official. Entering one of the recitation rooms by mistake, I found myself in the midst of an excited group of freshmen, and I stayed by to see the fun. Someone brought in a plug hat and a stout hickory cane, which excited intense enthusiasm. Each freshman submitted to being chalked fore and aft for the purpose of recognition, and the class then descended to the sophomores below, who had been keeping up lively expectations by yells and bowlings, and who were prepared to receive them with open arms. No more impressive sight was ever witnessed than those young men descending to battle with their implacable foes, for the grand right to the pursuit of happiness in wearing plug hats and swinging little canes. The collision took place on the outside steps, and thence the conflict raged up and down the Campus, back and forth, to and fro, with a duration and severity unequaled, as I was told, by any preceding mob in the history of the institution. The pluck displayed by both classes was wonderful. In many cases, their clothes were torn entirely from their backs, yet still they fought. Finally the sophomores succeeded in getting the cane, and escaped with it into the building, whence they could not be dislodged. This practically ended the rush, and it was about time. All were in a most dilapidated state-a whole coat being a rare exception, while bloody noses and bare backs streaked with dirt formed a prominent feature of the scene. "In connection with this it might be said that the game of football as played in those days was not much more than an organized form of rushing. The first games were played between the military companies A and B, and C and D, into which the students were formed. There were forty men on a side and the object was to force the ball between two trees which served to 29 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING mark the goal line. The side first securing three goals would win the match. I saw the first class match between the freshmen and sophomores, although the game was not decided on the day that it commenced. The sophs had two goals, but the third run was carried into the evening, and it was only after two balls had been used up, after the umpires and referees had left the field after vain attempts to call off the sides, and after a freshman had had two ribs broken and was rendered unconscious, that the game was called off by both parties in sheer despair and exhaustion. "I remember also the excitement which prevailed among the students in the fall of '73 upon the receipt of a challenge to a football game from thirty men chosen from the University of Michigan. The game was to be played at Cleveland, and forty men were selected and put to work with the view of picking a team. A set of rules was drawn up which it was thought would agree in most particulars with the game as played elsewhere, and a copy was sent to Michigan. All that remained was to collect the money for expenses, and secure Faculty approval, both of which it was thought would be forthcoming. Great was the disappointment and howling when the Faculty refused, as President White expressed it, "to let forty men go four hundred miles just to agitate a bag of wind." His further statement that football as then played was not a game of skill caused heated argument, but I think that the students themselves before many years came to recognize that while it was an excellent test of class muscle, it took low rank as a scientific game, and could hardly be used as a form of intercollegiate competition. "I remember very well, too, some of the early baseball games played in a field belonging to Mr. Cornell, because there was not a level place of sufficient size available on the Campus. I was never much of a baseballist, but the game even then had come to resemble the modern game in many respects. One main difference, as I recall, was that the pitcher was forced to throw underhand instead of overhand, and it was no uncommon thing for a game to last three or four hours with a score in the fifties or sixties. In the old-fashioned game of my boyhood days a soft 30 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING ball was used, and instead of cutting a man off at the bases, he was taken on the wing between the bases. The catcher thus was selected more for his accuracy in throwing than in catching. If a player could stop a ball with his shins and hit a man between the bases, he was pronounced a prodigy in baseball, and immediately installed as catcher. "The next important qualification in the game was hard hands and stiff fingers. If a man could shout vociferously and yell 'Gitty!' with gusto, he was immediately treated with a patronizing air and given a place on the nine. This player, when not otherwise engaged, was yelling regardless of anything in particular, such things as 'Donny!' 'Donny!' 'Climb!' 'Heave!' 'Hit!' 'Hold!' No one seemed to pay attention to him, and yet he seemed to be an important person in the game. Another important person was the umpire. His prerogative was unlimited. He decided arbitrarily all questions which arose, and even at times decided the game before it commenced. Any appeal from his decisions was considered bad form, especially as he usually carried a club to enforce his decisions. The pitcher was a funny man. He usually covered the ball with sand, rolled it around in his hands, gazed fondly upon it, rubbed his left hand upon his trousers, gazed intently for a few seconds in a certain direction, and then suddenly wheeled and threw the ball in an opposite direction at a baseman. If the latter caught the ball, the runner tumbled on the base, and then all eyes turned toward the umpire. If the umpire said 'Out!' the man who tumbled down got up and walked with a swagger, which if artistically done, elicited applause from the crowd. If the umpire said 'Safe!' the tumbler got up, brushed off his clothes, walked three steps from the base, and assumed a position which is often seen in pictures of devils welcoming sinners into Hades, while the baseman shook his fists, threw down the ball, and swore. Thus the game continued until everyone was tired, when they all rushed to the umpire, who shouted something which nobody understood. Then they all commenced to shout, apparently trying to settle the game by their abilities as bawlers. At least that is how the game often looked to me as a boy; but of course it is a very different game now."

<http://www.ancestry.com/s33216/t11581/grid1020/rd.ashx> Courtney and Cornell Rowing By Charles Van Patten Young Ithaca, NY Cornell Publications Printing Co. 1923 CHAPTER I early days charles E. courtney was born on November 13, 1849, at Union Springs, New York, a quaint village near the northern end of Cayuga Lake. His father, James Thomas Courtney, was a landscape gardener, a hard-working, frugal man, with a large family of seven children; not so large for those days, however, as it would be today. He had brought his family from Salem, Massachusetts, nine years before, traveling in a packet, a mode of travel then much in vogue. Charles was the next to the youngest child, and was but six years of age when his father died, so that his only recollection of his father was that of a big, burly, good-natured man of deep voice and rough exterior, who would carry him down the road on his back or romp with him and his older brothers after the evening meal had been eaten and the dishes put away in the large, old-fashioned cupboard, the most prominent piece of furniture in the house. Near the house, but farther back from the road, stood an old Quaker meeting-house, which was of perennial interest to the children, who never grew tired of watching, and at times imitating, the solemn-faced Quakers stalking in through the open door. At times they even ventured, in the growing dusk of evening, to tiptoe up to the door and peek in, or even climb up on the window ledge. If rebuked for this, the boys would hie them down to the lake shore, less than a stone's throw distant, and amuse themselves until, after a patient but vain waiting for the stirring of the spirit, the silent throng rose and dispersed as silently as they had come. Strange to relate, Union Springs was at that time the most noted place in the State for pleasure and racing yachts, and from his earliest boyhood, Charles was about the water, climbing into skiffs that might be lying by the dock, falling overboard 12 COUETNEY AND CORNELL ROWING and being fished out by some chance on-looker, and even, as he grew older, rowing one of the rich "sports" out to his anchored craft. There was a great strife on between the Springs and Aurora as to which could build or impress into service the fleeter yacht. The old residents will even to this day talk about the race between the Cayuga Chief and the Flying Cloud, in which the Cayuga Chief fouled a buoy and was declared loser. No one in Union Springs, however, would ever yield supremacy to the Aurora craft. Later when the Island Queen followed the Cayuga Chief, and defeated in turn the Ashland of New York, and the Mohawk Belle of Geneva and the Algonquin of Seneca, the whole countryside went wild. Although the struggle was kept up for thirty years or more, interest never flagged, so that love for boating was bred into every boy's bones. "Why, I can well remember now at sixty-five years/' Court-ney said in speaking of those days, "how we used to run away from school to help the boys put black lead on the bottoms of the boats and polish 'em up. Even at an earlier date, when I was about six years of age, I was the proudest boy in the Springs. One of the boats had just been completed but would not slide off the ways. Finally one of the workmen caught me up and tossed me aboard, and with the additional weight she slid gracefully into the water and I was the hero of the hour. When I was seven I could row a boat and go anywhere on the water, and we had races between boys about every evening after school. "When I was about twelve years old, I decided that it was about time to build a boat of my own. I got hold of a twelve-foot plank for the bottom, which I cut all around with an axe, canoe-shape, and then I took two hemlock boards for the sides, which I endeavored to nail to the plank and fasten at the ends, at the same time plastering up all the chinks with yellow clay. It was wonderful to look at, but the water would force off the clay in no time, in spite of all I could do, and then down she would go. We had great fun racing in her, however," he added reflectively, "the conditions of the race being to see who could *COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING 13* go around a stick about fifty feet out in the lake and back again before the craft would sink. That was one race that no one ever won. "When I was about the age of fourteen, I had my first chance at sailing a boat. Captain John Carr was my tutor, and there wasn't anything about sailing a boat that he didn't know. He was born and raised on the lake shore and had been a fisherman and sailor all his life. In a short time I got so I could handle the boat to his satisfaction, and then he would take me out into the lake a considerable distance, crawl into a floating battery, or sink-box, he had devised, and after carefully placing a hundred or a hundred and fifty decoys in a strategic position, he would send me off with the sail-boat to scare up the ducks. That sink-box, by the way, was quite a unique affair, having the usual platform with a box-like depression large enough to conceal the hunter, but also with canvas wings extending out on all sides to break the swell of the waves. "I remember one day in particular, as we were returning from one of these trips in which John had bagged as many ducks as the two of us could comfortably carry, I espied some ducks not far out from what we called the cribbing. John was an excellent shot, in spite of the fact that he wore the large, old-fashioned spectacles common in those days. Well, I played a little joke on him. In the excitement of the moment, and while getting his gun ready for action, his spectacles were knocked off. I picked them up, slyly removed the lenses, and held them until he was ready for them. 'Wait until I put on my spy-glasses,'— he always called them 'spy-glasses'—and after fumbling with them for a moment, always intently watching the ducks, he gravely adjusted the rims. 'Yes,' he said, 'They're canvas backs, and no mistake.' I said, 'Are you sure those glasses are a great help to you?' 'Yes,' he replied, 'I couldn't hit that house yonder without them,' and just then, as the ducks started off, he blazed away and dropped three of them. Without saying a word, I stooped over and pretended to pick something up from the ground, and then I asked, holding up the lenses, 'Why, where did these come from?' His face was a study for a moment, *14 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING* and then he turned a half-quizzical, half-angry look at me and muttered, 'You durned little fool—you never did know anything!' The joke was too good to keep, and it wasn't long before the whole village was laughing at old John." About this time Charley and a chum, Billy Cozzens, by name, decided to have a boat of their own. Billy had got hold of a magazine article describing McGregor's trip through England, Scotland, and various parts of Europe in a craft which was only twenty-four inches wide, nine inches deep, and sixteen feet long, which was called the Rob Roy. That was the kind of boat they started out to build with no other tools than a buck-saw, a hammer, and a smooth plane, with no lumber, or money wherewith to buy it, and not a great deal of experience. The lumber was soon acquired in one way or another,—just how need not be told here, although no one was ever the wiser—and they set to work. The boat was finally built, and if their words are to be believed, she was a beauty. Both of the boys were natural mechanics, and while following the dimensions of the other boat, added some features of their own, the most noticeable one being a red and white cedar deck. They decided not to take her on the lake at first, but to show her off down at Howland's mill-pond, which was a common rendezvous for the boys of the vicinity. When some of the older men saw the boat which the boys were carrying, they shook their heads and said the boys had built themselves a coflin. No one had ever seen such a narrow craft, but soon every one was taking a turn in her, each trying to make the circuit of the pond with a double-bladed paddle in the shortest possible time. This second Rob Roy did a yeoman's service on that pond, until finally she was called upon to play a more worthy part. In spite of the fact that when his father died he left a large family in poor circumstances, Charley and the rest of the children were kept at school. Although it meant hard work for the mother, they all managed to get more than the average education, finishing in the high school if not graduating. Charley was large and strong for his age, so that is it not to be wondered *COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING 15* at that, with his interest in boating and his assisting his old friends Carr and others in their boat-building operations, it was decided that he should be a carpenter. He left school to start out to learn the trade with Jerry Jaquith, and later worked with Emmet Anthony, a budding architect, with whom he planned and built several houses and a small church, until Anthony went to Denver to live. Then Charley went into the carpentry business with the only brother still at home, under the name of the Courtney Brothers. His oldest brother had gone to California in the spring of 1861, and the next brother entered the Civil War and starved to death in Libby Prison. The Courtney Brothers did a substantial, if not a highly remunerative business and were known throughout the countryside as splendid fellows to deal with. Apparently Charley was to be a carpenter all his life, but one never knows what apparently insignificant events or incidents may affect the whole course of a life. CHAPTER II *COURTNEY WINS HlS FlRST RACE* Even while building houses he was accustomed in the evening and at other odd moments to paddle around in the old Rob Roy which he and Cozzens had built. One evening, while these two were sitting in the back room of the Post Office, talking about nothing in particular, one of their acquaintances, Noyes Collins by name, walked in and sat down, remarking as he did so, "Say, Charley, I saw in the papers today that they have made a boat out of paper, twelve inches wide and thirty feet long." Charley replied, "Noyes, they must be crazy," and they all laughed at the idea. "But anyway, it's so," Noyes added, "and a fellow named Tyler is going to row a race in her, if any one will compete with him." Then Cozzens said, "Charley, let's put oars on our boat; we can find some lumber right here in Union Springs and make them ourselves." s No sooner said than done, and a few days after the oars had been completed and tried out, notice came that a single scull race was advertised to take place at Aurora on a certain date. Captain Angel brought the news and at the same time suggested to Charley that he might take the little boat he and Cozzens built and go in. He said Mr. Morgan of Aurora had asked him if there was anybody at the Springs who could row in a boat, and he had replied that Charley Courtney had built a small boat in which he had recently put oars, and that he would try and persuade him to enter. Everybody at once took it up and all were determined that he should go in; and so, says Charley, "I finally consented to go, as I thought the Rob Roy, with her new oars, was about the finest and swiftest boat in the world. The big boats and yachts all went ahead, and I took the little craft in the steamer the next morning. Shall I ever forget the expression on the boys' *COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING 17* faces when I met them on the dock at Aurora? Collins had a face about a mile long, and he exclaimed to me in a hoarse whisper, 'My God, there's two men here with those shell boats, and you never saw such freakish-looking crafts in your life!' "You have hard of people's hearts going down into their boots. When I went over into the storehouse with Collins, and saw those boats like two bars of polished steel—twelve inches wide and finished as beautifully as a piano body, I said, 'Let's go and cover my boat up!' I had taken her from the steamer and put her out on Captain Angel's sail-boat, and she was quite a curiosity to the crowd,—a home-made craft in every sense of the word. Some city youths were standing around her, poking each other in the ribs, and giving sly winks, and I was just as ashamed of her as I could be. She weighed at least eighty pounds, which was probably twenty pounds more than the other two put together. "Well the race was called at about three o'clock in the afternoon. The excitement was up to fever heat. Those two racing shells from New York were a complete surprise to everybody. As for me, I don't suppose I shall ever be able to describe the feelings and sensations that came over me when I took my position between them. There were looks of pity in the faces of my friends; they wanted to see me win, of course, but no one thought I had the ghost of a show. W. H. Bogart, of Aurora, started the race, and when I sat there waiting for the word, I realized that I was in a boat and I was out there to pull as I had never pulled before. "But if/ /those shell boats were a surprise, that race was a bigger one. Of course, my opponents were no good as oarsmen, or I never could have beaten them, but I just literally ran away from them. Much to their disgust and to the delight of the crowd, I crossed the line when they were still desperately trudging along somewhere down the course, and my first race was won. I think more of the little cup that was given to me as the prize on that occasion than any prize I have ever won. *18 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING* "That was in August, '68, and it marked the first real outbreak of rowing at the Springs. After that we had local races every year. The first time I ever saw a man in a boat who could really row was at Buffalo on July 4th, 1870. I had heard that there was going to be a shell boatrace up there, and busy as we were at house-building, I couldn't resist the temptation to go and see it. The race was between Harry Coulter, a famous professional, and Bob Berry, of Toronto, over a two-mile course with a turn at the end of the mile. The time of the winner was 15:15. As I had been covering a similar course in almost two minutes, less time, I went back home convinced for the first time that I could row. Nothing would do then but that I must have a shell; and not long afterward an opportunity presented itself for purchasing at Geneva a lap-streak boat, twenty-three feet long and nineteen inches wide. In this I rowed my second race of note at Syracuse in 1873 (June 25), when I defeated two entries from New York, Charles Smith and William Bishop, by something like a quarter of a mile over a three-mile course." CHAPTER III His First Visit To Cornell University I T was the year before this that Charles Courtney first saw Cornell University. While he went up as the stroke of the Springport four-oared crew to take part in their first regatta, he was curious to see this "Godless institution" about which so much had been written in the papers of the State. His descriptions of the Campus is interesting. "It was just after a thaw," he said, "and before all the snow had disappeared. After climbing the steep hill, and wading through mud in places up to my ankles, I came to the college dormitory, which appeared to me to be a very imposing building. Then I crossed an old, rickety bridge and came upon the Campus, although it didn't look much like a campus then. Pools of water, a result of the recent thaw, and through which I was obliged to wade, were standing in various places. Walks and carriage-ways were in no wise numerous. A sort of drive, which apparently had engineered itself, stretched across what to me had the appearance of being a converted pasture rather than a campus, as I had thought of it. A sidewalk of boards straggled along toward the buildings in the distance. It had no foundation and consequently its planks shook and tottered, and in places where no central plank had been laid, the gravel had been washed out and the walking was even more precarious. In some places along the walk the snow still lingered in drifts. Floundering along, I finally came to the South Building, and strolling beyond it I suddenly became conscious of experiencing the sensations of a man in a deep gravel pit. There was a gravel bank to the right and a gravel bank to the left, and at irregular intervals were deep holes, some of them excavations for sand, some natural depressions, and some that were apparently ditches for the laying of pipes. Lying all around was a lot of rotting timber, broken slate, and fragments of stone, and as I went on I ran into several cows straying from the barns not far away. My first impression of the University was anything but inspiring; but the next *20 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING* year when I returned, a great deal of the building debris had been cleared away, the Sage Building was practically completed, and I began to feel that after all Cornell was going to be something." The regatta for which he had made this first trip to Ithaca was held in the afternoon, and to use the words of the sporting writer of /The Cornell Era /of a later day, "Charley Courtney was the stroke of that memorable crew, and that explains what follows. The Cornell crew was stroked by Dole, the trainer who had been secured to prepare a crew for the Intercollegiate Regatta, with Button, Goldsmith, and Bean the other members. The boat used by the University crew was named The Buffalo, and was supposed to be quite a triumph of the boat-builder's art, while the boat used by the other crew, The Sam Weller, was thirty or forty inches wide and loomed up like a canal-boat. She had been specially selected for the Springport crew because it was thought no four men could bail her out and at the same time propel her fast enough to win a race. No wonder that as that 'big four' came sweeping in ahead of our boys, we stared at them in silent wonder. The second race was for single scullers and we had only one, Jack Elseffer, but he had not lost a race, or even been hard-pressed in the tryouts. _s His antagonist was— Charley Courtney. Poor Jack rowed as if his life were at stake, and he evidently thought there was a chance for him to win, for he was never more than a few feet behind the other boat. In the following years, when Charley swept all the amateur scullers before him, we understood better why it was that Jack could not overcome that exasperating lead." CHAPTER IV He Acquires A Racing Shell Shortly after his Syracuse race in '73, Charley was invited to go to Saratoga for their big regatta in September, and for this event he had to have a racing shell. The young man was working for a dollar a day and paying board out of that wage, and while the "high cost of living" was not at that time an acute problem at Union Springs, it was no easy matter to raise one hundred and twenty-six dollars. Friends chipped in, however, Dr. Fordyce, the genial old village doctor, generously helped to make up the balance, and Charley became the proud possessor of a real "honest to goodness" racing shell, twelve inches wide, thirty feet long, and weighing only thirty pounds. What a beauty she was! And many an evening, after the day's work was over, a crowd would collect on the dock to watch her go skimming through the water, propelled by the strong arms and stout heart of her owner. Finally the time for the race approached and, to take up Charley's own account: "I left for Saratoga with fifteen dollars in my pocket, which, I reckoned, ought to pay my board for at least three weeks. Upon my arrival, I went at once to the Grand Union Hotel, which I had heard about through a friend from Union Springs who was employed there. When I went to the desk and asked the clerk about the price of board, he told me three dollars and a half a day; I nearly dropped. However, I went into the dining-room and I was never so scared in my life. I had never been as far away from home, and I felt so awkward and green that I imagined every one was looking at me; I simply couldn't eat, hungry as I was. If I reached for a fork, I stuck my fingers into the butter, the soup was so hot I burned my tongue, and in reaching for a glass of water I knocked over the celery dish and things were a mess. The waiter glared at me. I thought the best thing for me to do was to bolt; so out I rushed, feeling that I had made myself a laughing stock. I walked along the lake and, about the time I cooled down, came to Moon's Hotel. That looked good to me and in I went. There *22 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING* I met an old friend, John Morrissey, who immediately took me under his wing. He introduced me to Mr. Moon, and we sat down at the family table; and while Morrissey told us about his history and his early training, I ate. I shall never forget that dinner—biscuit, brook trout, black bass, partridge,—everything that was good, and I was so interested in the conversation that I never noticed until afterwards that the others had long finished and were just watching me eat. "Well, in a few days I got a little more used to things, and was soon busy practicing for the race. When I wasn't rowing, I was out back of the boathouse lying in the grass, as I didn't like to be stared at as one fresh from the country. At first I didn't feel comfortable with only fifteen dollars in my pocket, but when I plucked up courage one day and told Mr. Moon how much money I had and wondered whether that would see me through the eight days before the race, he just laughed, and guessed it would be enough. After that I slept better. There were twelve other entries besides myself, and while there were very few who thought enough of my chances to bet any money on me, I knew I could win, and wrote the folks home so. It was a beautiful day on which the race was rowed, and it must have been a great sight to see those thirteen men in line and thirteen pairs of oars flash in the sunlight. "When I think back over it all, I have to smile at some of the funny things that occurred. I was pretty nervous at the start and I started out to row as if it were a hundred-yard sprint. My boat went ahead so fast that spectators began to yell, 'Whoa! Whoa!' and I could hear them laugh, but I thought they were making fun of me and rowed all the harder. When I got down to Ramsdall's Point I was so far ahead that a young man, who had a lady in a boat with him, asked me if I wouldn't stop and take a drink of lemonade. 'You have time enough/ he said, but of course I rowed all the harder. I won in 14:15, which was one minute faster than Josh Ward's professional record, and they all thought it was a wonderful performance; but even at that I felt I had a little up my sleeve in reserve had I been pushed. *COUETNEY AND CORNELL ROWING 23* "After the race I went up to pay my board, and asked what the bill was. 'Well, young man/ said Mr. Moon, 'come with me into the sitting-room and we'll settle up.' We went in and he sat down at a table and pulled out a roll of bills and counted them out. 'There!' he said, 'I won three hundred dollars on this race—you take half of it.' He insisted upon my taking the money, and he didn't charge me a cent for board besides, and then he hitched up his horses and took me and my boat back to Saratoga. Then James H. Brister, of Union Springs, came to my room, and said he had placed a little on the race, and as I had done all the work I ought to have a share in the result. He had won six hundred dollars and gave me half of it. I felt like a Rothschild. I never had so much money before. I left Saratoga with $450 in my pocket, besides the fifteen dollars I had brought, and I tell you I never let go of that money—kept it right in my hand until I got home. Mother was glad I had won, and the money helped; but she had opposed my going from the start. She was afraid it might lead me to on other races, and it did; for in the next few years I rowed eighty-eight races in all—and never lost a race." CHAPTER V courtney turns professional FROM the time that Charley turned professional in 1877 his troubles began and he always referred to that action with regret. "I was a fool to do it," he said, "but I was led into it,—urged on by my friends against my better judgment." He had up to this time maintained his wonderful strength and physique. He had shown no evidence of overwork or physical strain; but Dr. VanCleve of Watkins warned him that he had trained to a point where nature would soon begin to assert her rights. This, however, did not check him, so intoxicated with success was he. At Saratoga, with Frank Yates as a partner, he had rowed the fastest race for two miles ever rowed in this or any other country. The record, 12:16, stands today. At Aurora, in a single scull, against a double scull, he had rowed two miles in 13:14, the best time on record for a turning race, and in practice he had rowed a mile in six minutes, and a mile and a half in nine minutes. He thought that even if he did go in for professional rowing, it would only be for a short time, and he could stop at any time; but he found that it was not so. The first time he was ever beaten was by Ned Hanlan at Lachine, in 1878; but the race was so close and there was so much dispute as to which was the better oarsman, that finally, after a great deal of newspaper talk and criticism, papers were signed for another race, to be rowed over a five-mile course, with turn, on Chautauqua Lake, on October 8th, 1879. That race never came off, because on the morning of the 8th it was discovered that Charley's shell had been sawed in two. Charles S. Francis, a lifelong friend, editor of /The Troy Times, /and later Ambassador to Austria under President Taft's administration, describes what follows: "It seems as if never since the firing on Fort Sumter did an event so arouse the anger of the American people. In every city, village, and hamlet, wherever a telegraph wire or a newspaper penetrated, the storm of indignation raged. And, not strange at all to relate, but perfectly natural, as has always been the case from time immemorial, the majority did *COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING 25* not place the blame where it belonged, but in their blind and unreasonable anger, accused Courtney of sawing his own boat, the last man on earth who would have done such a thing. His whole racing career, from the time he won his first silver cup at Aurora, had been without a breath of suspicion and without reproach. He never touched a drop of liquor, he did not use tobacco, he did not gamble, he knew no fast companions. He was the same upright, honest country boy that he was when he first went to Saratoga with but fifteen dollars in his pocket. Success had not turned his head, and feeling that he had not been decisively beaten, if at all, at Lachine, he was ready to try again. He was in perfect condition for the race and felt confident of winning. "What happened? Hanlan, whose convivial habits were well known, had been out the day before. He had listened to the voice of the charmer and apparently had forgotten all about the race. His friends and backers became alarmed. A conference was held with Courtney that same night, and efforts were made to postpone the race. When these failed, the entire prize of $6,000 was offered him if he would consent to make the race a draw. The reply was characteristic of the man. 'Gentlemen/ he said, 'the race will be rowed tomorrow, and whoever wins it will have to row for it!' A suspicion of foul play never entered his head; but before the morrow dawned, those whose bribe had been spurned were avenged, whether through their own or the machinations of others will never be known." So much by way of explanation. Whatever be the truth of that much discussed event, and whoever was responsible for the dastardly deed, it is the one event in Charles E. Courtney's life that threw a shadow over his otherwise clear and sunny sky. He bore the burden all his life, and if ever a man's actions and attitude, both preceding and following the incident, belied insinuations and accusations, which it need hardly be said were never credited for a moment by those who knew him intimately, it certainly can be said that he lived them down He was so amazed and absolutely thunderstruck by the storm of abuse and vituperation that swept over him that he never *26 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING* even raised a voice of protest, and in his later years he was always entirely willing to rest upon his record for vindication. Whenever in the course of his long and busy life the matter was broached with some heat now and again by one of his friends, he always waved him aside with, "Never mind, my boy; it will all come out right in the end." Whatever arguments may be brought forward in exculpation of this particular instance, however, there can be no question that Courtney's career as a professional oarsman was marred by untoward incidents and accidents which gave some ground for the suspicion under which he fell. The probable explanation for some of the actions of which he was guilty during this period was that he not only became intoxicated with success, as he himself intimated, but was early seized upon by professional gamblers, who took advantage of his inexperience and callowness and used him for their own ends. In any case no one more bitterly lamented the mistakes of his professional career than did Courtney himself; and it can be said to his credit that from that time to the day of his death suspicion never in any shape or form attached itself to him. In all his private dealings he was the soul of honor, a genial, good-natured, hard-working, serious-minded man, who in spite of the mistakes of earlier life so far succeeded in impressing his personality and character upon many succeeding generations of students that his name came to be the synonym for straight-forward, rugged honesty. CHAPTER VI early athletics at cornell COURTNEY'S career as a trainer began in '75 with a class of young ladies from the Seminary at Union Springs. For several years he spent many an hour patiently instilling in their minds some of the rudiments of rowing. Every now and then, too, he repeated his early visit to Ithaca, viewing with increasing interest the growth of the University and the enthusiasm manifested by the students in rowing matters. When John Ostrom's varsity six defeated an improvised but matured crew which he took down to give them practice, he was as pleased as were the college boys themselves, and he predicted great things for the crew—which, it may be mentioned, were afterwards realized. Ostrom, partly as a result of his own independent and clear-headed deductions, but partly as a result of observing the stroke of the Union Springs champion, had hit upon a stroke with the same sharp, hard catch, and the same quick start on the recovery, which has always been so characteristic of the "Courtney stroke." Courtney once said that if John Ostrom, the "Old Man" of the early days, had only stayed on a few years until he took up the thread in '83, Cornell crews would have been propelled by one continuous stroke throughout their history, with the possible exception of '84, when he was busy with his professional rowing and John Teemer was the coach. In speaking of these early days, and the character of the students and their activities, many anecdotes, more or less humorous, have been elicited from the "Old Man." "Particularly was I impressed," he said when he was in one of his more communicative moods, "with the rugged character of the students of that early period. On two occasions I almost took an involuntary part in what they called a 'cane rush.' The first rush occurred down town when I was standing in front of the old Clinton House in the early fall. A student, evidently a freshman, suddenly appeared from somewhere bearing a cane. This seemed to be the signal to a lot of sophomores in the *28 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING* neighborhood, and a spirited rush ensued then and there, the crowd surging from one side of the street to the other, until the cane was reduced to a condition in which it was not a cane. That ended the rush for that time, except that the sophs got hold of and broke up a few more canes which were put into the hands of freshmen by some interested juniors. "The second occasion was a much more pretentious affair and occurred on the Campus, where I had gone to look up some boating official. Entering one of the recitation rooms by mistake, I found myself in the midst of an excited group of freshmen, and I stayed by to see the fun. Someone brought in a plug hat and a stout hickory cane, which excited intense enthusiasm. Each freshman submitted to being chalked fore and aft for the purpose of recognition, and the class then descended to the sophomores below, who had been keeping up lively expectations by yells and bowlings, and who were prepared to receive them with open arms. No more impressive sight was ever witnessed than those young men descending to battle with their implacable foes, for the grand right to the pursuit of happiness in wearing plug hats and swinging little canes. The collision took place on the outside steps, and thence the conflict raged up and down the Campus, back and forth, to and fro, with a duration and severity unequaled, as I was told, by any preceding mob in the history of the institution. The pluck displayed by both classes was wonderful. In many cases, their clothes were torn entirely from their backs, yet still they fought. Finally the sophomores succeeded in getting the cane, and escaped with it into the building, whence they could not be dislodged. This practically ended the rush, and it was about time. All were in a most dilapidated state-a/ /whole coat being a rare exception, while bloody noses and bare backs streaked with dirt formed a prominent feature of the scene. "In connection with this it might be said that the game of football as played in those days was not much more than an organized form of rushing. The first games were played between the military companies A and B, and C and D, into which the students were formed. There were forty men on a side and the object was to force the ball between two trees which served to COURTNEY AND CORNELL *ROWING 29* mark the goal line. The side first securing three goals would win the match. I saw the first class match between the freshmen and sophomores, although the game was not decided on the day that it commenced. The sophs had two goals, but the third run was carried into the evening, and it was only after two balls had been used up, after the umpires and referees had left the field after vain attempts to call off the sides, and after a freshman had had two ribs broken and was rendered unconscious, that the game was called off by both parties in sheer despair and exhaustion. "I remember also the excitement which prevailed among the students in the fall of '73 upon the receipt of a challenge to a football game from thirty men chosen from the University of Michigan. The game was to be played at Cleveland, and forty men were selected and put to work with the view of picking a team. A set of rules was drawn up which it was thought would agree in most particulars with the game as played elsewhere, and a copy was sent to Michigan. All that remained was to collect the money for expenses, and secure Faculty approval, both of which it was thought would be forthcoming. Great was the disappointment and howling when the Faculty refused, as President White expressed it, "to let forty men go four hundred miles just to agitate a bag of wind." His further statement that football as then played was not a game of skill caused heated argument, but I think that the students themselves before many years came to recognize that while it was an excellent test of class muscle, it took low rank as a scientific game, and could hardly be used as a form of intercollegiate competition. "I remember very well, too, some of the early baseball games played in a field belonging to Mr. Cornell, because there was not a level place of sufficient size available on the Campus. I was never much of a baseballist, but the game even then had come to resemble the modern game in many respects. One main difference, as I recall, was that the pitcher was forced to throw underhand instead of overhand, and it was no uncommon thing for a game to last three or four hours with a score in the fifties or sixties. In the old-fashioned game of my boyhood days a soft 30 COURTNEY AND CORNELL ROWING ball was used, and instead of cutting a man off at the bases, he was taken on the wing between the bases. The catcher thus was selected more for his accuracy in throwing than in catching. If a player could stop a ball with his shins and hit a man between the bases, he was pronounced a prodigy in baseball, and immediately installed as catcher. "The next important qualification in the game was hard hands and stiff fingers. If a man could shout vociferously and yell 'Gitty!' with gusto, he was immediately treated with a patronizing air and given a place on the nine. This player, when not otherwise engaged, was yelling regardless of anything in particular, such things as 'Donny!' 'Donny!' 'Climb!' 'Heave!' 'Hit!' 'Hold!' No one seemed to pay attention to him, and yet he seemed to be an important person in the game. Another important person was the umpire. His prerogative was unlimited. He decided arbitrarily all questions which arose, and even at times decided the game before it commenced. Any appeal from his decisions was considered bad form, especially as he usually carried a club to enforce his decisions. The pitcher was a funny man. He usually covered the ball with sand, rolled it around in his hands, gazed fondly upon it, rubbed his left hand upon his trousers, gazed intently for a few seconds in a certain direction, and then suddenly wheeled and threw the ball in an opposite direction at a baseman. If the latter caught the ball, the runner tumbled on the base, and then all eyes turned toward the umpire. If the umpire said 'Out!' the man who tumbled down got up and walked with a swagger, which if artistically done, elicited applause from the crowd. If the umpire said 'Safe!' the tumbler got up, brushed off his clothes, walked three steps from the base, and assumed a position which is often seen in pictures of devils welcoming sinners into Hades, while the baseman shook his fists, threw down the ball, and swore. Thus the game continued until everyone was tired, when they all rushed to the umpire, who shouted something which nobody understood. Then they all commenced to shout, apparently trying to settle the game by their abilities as bawlers. At least that is how the game often looked to me as a boy; but of course it is a very different game now." <http://www.ancestry.com/s33216/t11564/grid1003/rd.ashx>

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Courtney and Cornell Rowing CHAPTER I early days Charles E. courtney was born on November 13, 1849 at Union Springs, New York, a quaint village near the northern end of Cayuga Lake. His father, James Thomas Courtney, was a landscape gardener, a hard-working, frugal man, with a large family of seven children; not so large for those days, however, as it would be today. He had brought his family from Salem, Massachusetts, nine years before, traveling in a packet, a mode of travel then much in vogue. Charles was the next to the youngest child, and was but six years of age when his father died, so that his only recollection of hisfather was that of a big, burly, good-natured man of deep voice and rough exterior, who would carry him down the road on his back or romp with him and his older brothers after the evening meal had been eaten and the dishes put away in the large, old-fashioned cupboard, the most prominent piece of furniture in the house. Near the house, but farther back from the road, stood an old Quaker meeting-house, which was of perennial interest to the children, who never grewtired of watching, and at times imitating, the solemn-faced Quakers stalking in through the open door. At times they even ventured, in the growing dusk of evening, to tiptoe up to the door and peek in, or even climb upon the window ledge. If rebuked for this, the boys would hie them down to the lake shore, less than a stone's throw distant, and amuse themselvesuntil, after a patient but vain waiting for the stirring of the spirit, the silent throng rose and dispersed as silently as they had come. Strange to relate, Union Springs was at that time the most noted place inthe State for pleasure and racing yachts, and from his earliest boyhood,Charles was about the water, climb­ing into skiffs that might be lyingby the dock, falling overboard and being fished out by some chance on-looker, and even, as he grew older, rowing one of the rich "sports" out to his anchored craft. There was a great strife on between the Springs and Aurora as to which could build or impress into service the fleeter yacht. The old residents will even to this day talk about the race be­tween the Cayuga Chief and the Flying Cloud, in which the Cayuga Chief fouled a buoy and was declaredloser. No one in Union Springs, however, would ever yield supremacy to the Aurora craft. Later when the Island Queen followed the Cayuga Chief, and defeated in turn the Ashland of New York, and the Mohawk Belle of Geneva and the Algonquin of Seneca, the whole countryside went wild. Althoughthe struggle was kept up for thirty years or more, interest never flagged, so that love for boating was bred into every boy's bones. "Why, I can well remember now at sixty-five years," Court-ney said in speaking of those days, "how we used to run away from school to help the boys put black lead on the bottoms of the boats and polish 'em up. Even at an earlier date, when I was about six years of age, I was the proudest boyin the Springs. One of the boats had just been completed but would not slide off the ways. Finally one of the workmen caught me up and tossed me aboard, and with the additional weight she slid gracefully into the waterand I was the hero of the hour. When I was seven I could row a boat and go anywhere on the water, and we had races between boys about every evening after school. "When I was about twelve years old, I decided that it was about time to build a boat of my own. I got hold of a twelve-foot plank for the bottom, which I cut all around with an axe, canoe-shape, and then I took two hemlock boards for the sides, which I endeavored to nail to the plank and fasten at the ends, at the same time plastering up all the chinks with yellow clay. It was wonderful to look at, but the water would force off the clay in no time, in spite of all I could do, and then down she would go. Wehad great fun racing in her, however," he added reflectively, "the conditions of the race being to see who could go around a stick about fifty feet out in the lake and back again before the craft would sink. That was one race that no one ever won. "When I was about the age of fourteen, I had my first chance at sailing aboat. Captain John Carr was my tutor, and there wasn't anything about sailing a boat that he didn't know. He was born and raised on the lake shore and had been a fisherman and sailor all his life. In a short time I gotso I could handle the boat to his satisfaction, and then he would take me out into the lake a considerable distance, crawl into a floating battery, or sink-box, he had devised, and after carefully placing a hundred or a hundred and fifty decoys in a strategic position, he would send me off with the sail-boat to scare up the ducks. That sink-box, by the way, was quite a unique affair, having the usual platform with a box-like depression large enough to conceal the hunter, but also with canvas wings extending out on all sides to break the swell of the waves. "I remember one day in particular, as we were returning from one of thesetrips in which John had bagged as many ducks as the two of us could comfortably carry, I espied some ducks not far out from what we called the cribbing. John was an excellent shot, in spite of the fact that he wore thelarge, old-fashioned spectacles common in those days. Well, I played a little joke on him. In the excitement of the moment, and while getting hisgun ready for action, his spectacles were knocked off. I picked them up,slyly removed the lenses, and held them until he was ready for them. 'Wait until I put on my spy-glasses,'- he always called them 'spy-glasses'-and after fumbling with them for a moment, always intently watching the ducks, he gravely adjusted the rims. 'Yes,' he said, 'They're canvas backs,and no mistake.' I said, 'Are you sure those glasses are a great help toyou?' 'Yes,' he replied, 'I couldn't hit that house yonder without them,' and just then, as the ducks started off, he ! blazed away and dropped three of them. Without saying a word, I stooped over and pretended to pick something up from the ground, and then I asked, holding up the lenses, 'Why, where did these come from?' His face was a study for a moment, and then he turned a half-quizzical, half-angry look at me and muttered, 'You durned little fool-you never did know any­thing!' The joke was too good to keep, and it wasn't long before the whole village was laughing at old John." About this time Charley and a chum, Billy Cozzens, by name, decided to have a boat of their own. Billy had got hold of a magazine article describing McGregor's trip through Eng­land, Scotland, and various parts of Europe in a craft which was only twenty-four inches wide, nine inches deep, and sixteen feet long, which was called the Rob Roy. That was the kind ofboat they started out to build with no other tools than a buck-saw, a hammer, and a smooth plane, with no lumber, or money wherewith to buy it, and not a great deal of experience. The lumber was soon acquired in one way or another,-just how need not be told here, although no one was ever the wiser-and they set to work. The boat was finally built, and if their words are to be be­lieved, shewas a beauty. Both of the boys were natural me­chanics, and while following the dimensions of the other boat, added some features of their own,the most noticeable one being a red and white cedar deck. They decided not to take her on the lake at first, but to show her off down at Rowland's mill-pond, which was a common rendezvous for the boys of the vicinity. When some of the older men saw the boat which the boys were carrying, they shook their heads and said the boys had built themselves a coffin. No one had ever seen such a narrow craft, but soon every one was taking a turn in her, each trying to make the circuit of the pond with a double-bladed paddle in the shortest possible time. This second Rob Roy did a yeoman's service on that pond, until finally she was called upon to play a more worthy part. In spite of the fact that when his father died he left a large family in poor circumstances, Charley and the rest of the children were kept at school. Although it meant hard work for the mother, they all managed to get more than the average education, finishing in the high school if not graduating. Charley was large and strong for his age, so that is it not to bewondered at that, with his interest in boating and his assisting his oldfriends Carr and others in their boat-building operations, it was decided that he should be a carpenter. He left school to start out to learn thetrade with Jerry Jaquith, and later worked with Emmet Anthony, a buddingarchitect, with whom he planned and built several houses and a small church, until Anthony went to Denver to live. Then Charley went into the carpentry business with the only brother still at home, under the name of the Courtney Brothers. His oldest brother had gone to California in the spring of 1861, and the next brother entered th! e Civil War and starved to death in Libby Prison. The Courtney Brothers did a substantial, if not a highly remunerative business and were known throughout the country­side as splendid fellows to deal with. Apparently Charley was to be a carpenter all his life, but one never knows what apparently insignificant events or inci­dents may affect the whole course of a life.

RogerPost21 <http://myaccount.rootsweb.com/publicprofile?mba=009df38d-0001-0000-0000-000000000000&rurl=> (View posts <http://boards.rootsweb.com/authorposts.aspx?uname=RogerPost21&uid=009df38d-0001-0000-0000-000000000000&uem=&rurl=http%3a%2f%2fboards.rootsweb.com%2flocalities.northam.usa.states.newyork.counties.cayuga%2f4726.1.1%2fmb.ashx>) Posted: 23 Oct 2007 6:37PM GMT Classification: Query Surnames: Lepak, Rogalski, Rudick, Cuipylo, Testa, Cecchinni, Vitale, Pacyliak Hi, Bill. Sharon and Ralph Schooley have provided names for the motorcyclists in the picture of the Devil Riders. Left to right: Harold Lepak, Barney Rogalski, Bobby Rudick, Al Cuipylo, Joe Testa, Aldo Cecchinni, Ben Vitale, Dick (Farmer) Pacyliak. Sharon says the picture was taken late 1940s. An article appeared in The Citizen, "Death riders memorable sight" - By Tom DeFurio, on 22 October 2007. A cropped version of the picture with the motorcyclists' identities appears in the print version of the newspaper. The article is here: http://www.auburnpub.com/articles/2007/10/22/news/lake_life/lakelife04.txt Auburn Death Riders small http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10756_96.jpg> large version http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10756.jpg> Elsie Yawger Car Crash 1949 at corner of Rt 90 and the old 326 (Cat's Elbow) http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10757_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10757.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10759_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10759.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10760_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10760.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10762_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10762.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10763_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10763.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10764_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10764.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10765_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10765.jpg> The man with the child looks a little like Bob Doremus http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10761_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10761.jpg> The Grill 1949 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10758_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10758.jpg> Half Acre 1950 car accident http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10766_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10766.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10767_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10767.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10768_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10768.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10769_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10769.jpg> East of Oakwood 1954 http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10770_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10770.jpg> Motorcycle Hill Climb Sine (Sine) Farm 1948 WHERE IS THIS ????? http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10771_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10771.jpg> Note chains on rear tire http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10772_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10772.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10773_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10773.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10774_96.jpg> http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures... <http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/%7Espringport/pictures107/10774.jpg> Death riders memorable sight By Tom DeFurio Monday, October 22, 2007 9:47 AM EDT A few days ago, as I was driving west on Grant Avenue, I pulled up along side of Eddie Speno. I rolled down my window to say hello, and Eddie responded with a question about “would I like a great story for my column?” I said that I'm always looking for interesting topics. We pulled over into the Dunkin Donuts parking lot, and he told me about one of Auburn's motorcycle clubs that was formed after World War II. Although he wasn't a member, he remembers the group and how it developed. Eddie and his brother, Jack Speno, lived on Wallace Avenue. Many of “the boys” lived in the area, and Mrs. Speno volunteered to sew letters on their shirts and jackets. They were known as the Auburn Death Riders. Many of the members have passed on, but Ben Vitale of School Street in Throop was able to tell me about this comrades, and how they enjoyed motorcycling. He told me that after the war, many young men bought Harley-Davidson or Indian motorcycles with their mustering-out pay and pursued the freedom of the road, along with the, then popular, sport of hill climbing. Ben said “invariably no one made it to the top of the hill, but the person who got the farthest was deemed the winner.” The “Riders” were an informal group, with no designated leaders. They congregated at Louie Mentillo's gas station, at the corner of Columbus and Clark streets, from where they took “spur-of-the-moment” rides. They would ride around Lake Ontario or Lake Erie, stopping only for food and short rests. On Sundays, they would ride to Caledonia, N.Y. for the motorcycle races. The Vehicle and Traffic Laws were less strict in those days, and Ben said “it was a pleasure riding without a helmet. We had no serious accidents.” The above photo was taken on Clark Street in front of St. Francis of Assisi Church, and the wooden building behind the bikers is on the grounds in front of the spot where the Our Lady of Lourdes Shrine stands today. The white building to the west was a gas station, then operated by Steve Tarby. The sport has gone through many “cycles,” but its popularity continues to increase. If you would like to share a great story or any “news of the past,” please call me at 567-9989. Tom DeFurio is former town supervisor for Sennett.

-------- Original Message -------- Subject: DOW JONES REPRINTS This copy is for your personal, non-commercial use only. To order presentation-ready copies for distribution to your colleagues, clients or customers, use the Order Reprints tool at the bottom of any article or visit: www.djreprints.com. • See a sample reprint in PDF format. • Order a reprint of this article now. Free Trial Start a FREE trial of the Online Journal Subscribe Subscribe to The Print Journal Free US Quotes: Symbol Name Get FREE E-Mail by topic Check Out our Mobile & Wireless Services DIGEST OF EARNINGS Details of the latest corporate earnings reported for FREE. The Photo Detective Does the shoebox in the attic hold family secrets? Alexandra Alter on how one expert unlocks the past. By ALEXANDRA ALTER October 12, 2007; Page W1 Maureen Taylor has dated a photograph to 1913 by studying the size and shape of a Lion touring car's headlamps. Armed with her collection of 19th-century fashion magazines, she can pinpoint the brief period when Victorian women wore their bangs in tight curls rather than swept back. Using a technique borrowed from the CIA, she identified a photo of Jesse James by examining the shape of his right ear. Photo sleuth Colleen Fitzpatrick of California talks about her own forensic techniques and analyzes two vintage family pictures. With millions of Americans obsessively tracing their roots, Ms. Taylor has emerged as the nation's foremost historical photo detective. During a recent meeting of the Maine Genealogical Society, attendees lined up a dozen deep as she handled their images with a cotton glove and peered at the details through a photographer's loupe. One man offered a portrait photo and asked if it could be of his great grandmother, who died in 1890. "It's not," Ms. Taylor said after about 15 seconds; she'd dated the hairstyle and billowy blouse to the early 20th century. When another attendee asked why her great-great-grandfather was wearing small hoops in his ears in a portrait, Ms. Taylor explained, "He was in the maritime trade." Each day, millions of people visit genealogy Internet sites such as Ancestry.com1, which now has 15 million users, and has seen sales balloon to $151 million last year, three times the 2002 total. Ms. Taylor and a handful of other detectives are filling a growing niche in the genealogy business: dating and identifying the subjects of photographs. Since she launched her business 10 years ago, Ms. Taylor says, she's tackled some 10,000 photo puzzles. Working out of a cluttered office in her Westwood, Mass., home, she receives about 30 requests each week, up from five a decade ago. She is sought out by collectors, historians and even TV producers to weigh in on controversies. Her current preoccupation: finding lost or unidentified photos of people who lived during the Revolutionary War. The Story Behind the Photo [Go to enlarged photo]2 Civil War soldier or hunter? Click the photo to see the clues Ms. Taylor used to topple one family's lore. Ms. Taylor, who charges $60 an hour, has learned to spot details that reveal not only a photo's period, but the story behind it. A broom at the feet of a couple in a mid-19th-century portrait, for instance, often marks it as a wedding picture. A photograph of a baby in a carriage from the 1860s might not be a birth announcement, but a death card; in that period of high infant mortality, dead infants were commonly photographed in carriages. A 19th-century woman with unusually short hair may have had scarlet fever, because it was common to shave a victim's head. The most satisfying cases, Ms. Taylor says, are those that reunite people with lost pieces of their past. When her 85-year-old mother moved into a nursing home, Cassie Horner, a 50-year-old free-lance writer in Plymouth, Vt., inherited more than 100 photographs, most of which were unidentified. In February, Ms. Horner and a cousin hired Ms. Taylor to analyze the images, especially a tintype of two women and a baby. Ms. Taylor dated the photo within two years of its creation, just by flipping it over; she recognized a Civil War tax stamp that was used from Aug. 1, 1864, to Aug. 1, 1866. With that time period, the cousins determined one woman was their great-grandmother, Myalina Gage, the eldest of 13 children, with her younger sister Malinda. The baby was likely one of Myalina's children who died. [Independent Street]3 INDEPENDENT STREET BLOG • Preserve Your Own Photo History: Small Shops Make it Simple4 For years, Brad Leonard of Missoula, Mont., puzzled over the contents of an album he believed had belonged to his great-grandmother. So in January, he sent more than 50 images to Ms. Taylor. She spent four months researching Rhode Island photo studios, studying the family tree and comparing facial features. Eventually, she identified 25 of Mr. Leonard's ancestors in images she dated from 1860 to 1900. She said one was of his great-grandfather John, whose picture he had never seen. In one portrait, John Leonard leans jauntily on an ornamental column, wearing a bowler and a stylish pinstriped suit. It was strange, Mr. Leonard says, to see his own long, straight nose and deep-set eyes looking back at him. "Sometimes I think it would be nice if we could have a cocktail party and all meet," he says of his ancestors. Ms. Taylor says her job is more of a passion than a lucrative enterprise. As a child in Bristol, R.I., she occupied herself on snowy days by studying old family photos from her mother's closet. After earning a history degree in 1978, she joined the Rhode Island Historical Society, where she worked as an assistant photo curator and genealogical researcher. To augment her $6,000 salary, she took up a paper route. In the mornings, she worked on genealogy, poring over family records and church rosters. Afternoons were devoted to studying nuances of old photos like tintypes (they're made of iron, so magnets will stick to them) and daguerreotypes (they have reflective surfaces like mirrors). When the photos are well preserved, she says, "the people look like they're so real they could step out of the frame." [photos] Maureen Taylor in her office. There are currently about half a dozen family historians who specialize in dating images by clothing, photographic style or props. Some are using scientific methods to date photos, rather than focusing on details like clothing. Colleen Fitzpatrick, an optical scientist and genealogist who also studies handwriting, tries to answer questions about photographs by measuring shadows -- which might hint at what time of day they were taken -- or by measuring the dimensions of photos to determine what kind of camera was used. Kathleen Hinckley, executive director of the Association of Professional Genealogists, says Ms. Taylor has risen to the top of the field by bridging the disciplines of genealogy, art history, costume history and cultural anthropology. The first popular photographs, daguerreotypes, appeared in France and England in the 1830s. These small, reflective, metal images typically have protective cases and can last hundreds of years. The medium proved immensely popular. By the 1850s, studios made ambrotypes, images captured on glass with a mixture of ether and gun cotton; tintypes, photos made by coating iron plates with light-sensitive chemicals; and card photographs, prints mounted on cardboard. When candid photography arrived in 1889 with the invention of the Kodak snapshot, family collections swelled with shots of christenings, birthdays and everyday scenes. Problematically, few people thought to label them. Today, old photographs sit in attics or unlabeled boxes at antiques fairs and thrift shops, or drift unclaimed on eBay. Some Web sites hawk unidentified portraits, branding them "instant ancestors," while others specialize in reuniting orphaned photos with their families. One site, deadfred.com, has a database with more than 70,000 abandoned photos dating back as far as 1840; more than 1,100 have been claimed. One client of Ms. Taylor's, a New York artist, asked her to determine whether one of the four men in an 1874 photo was Jesse James. Using a technique she'd found in a book by a former CIA analyst, Ms. Taylor studied the shape of the man's right ear and compared it to photos known to be of James. A bump on the man's helix, combined with a receding hairline and narrow jaw, identified him as the infamous outlaw. On a typical morning, Ms. Taylor is at her desk by 8, scanning photos uploaded to her Web site or submitted by email. She often prints 20 or so and tacks them on her bulletin board to mull over. Sometimes, they stare back at her for months. One troublesome photograph, of a woman in a dress whose style was difficult to date, stayed on her board for a year before Ms. Taylor hit upon the answer. The woman, who was likely poor, had resewn the dress several times. Ms. Taylor is a compulsive collector of obscure reference books (one of her prize finds was an 1884 geographical dictionary called the Lippincott Gazetteer of the World), and has floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with guides to gravestone markers, buttons, shoes, Victorian costumes, encyclopedias of United States Army uniforms, quilt-pattern catalogs, encyclopedias of paper products, fabric swatches, stamp books, a manual on the symbolism of fraternal organizations and a guide to photo fakery written by a former official at the CIA's National Photographic Interpretation Center. [photo] After Ms. Taylor dated an unknown photo as 1900-1910, Rita Werner of Taylorville, Ill., was able to identify the women as (from left) her great-grandmother, her great-aunt and her great-grandmother's sister. She's constantly scavenging for old photographs, and has amassed an entire closet full of antique photos from flea markets, antique fairs and online auction sites. Among them is a cardboard box of 19th-century family portraits that she bought two years ago at an antiques fair in Brimfield, Mass. Each photograph is labeled according to the person's relationship to a mystery woman named Louise. "I haven't gotten to it yet," says Ms. Taylor, who's tall and slim with icy blue eyes. "I still have to find Louise." When an answer can't be found in one of her books or in images she's already identified and dated, she hunts down other experts to learn about horticulture, medical photography or 19th-century weapons. Sometimes, her conclusions topple well-established family lore. Marjorie Osterhout, 46, a free-lance writer in Seattle, was fairly certain she'd found a photo of a relative who'd served in the Civil War (see image5). The thin, stern-looking gentleman wears an ammunition belt and poses with a rifle and a black dog at his feet. She learned she had a tintype, a cheap, durable photograph Civil War soldiers often mailed home to relatives. In June, she submitted the image to Ms. Taylor to test the theory, and an answer arrived three days later. The photograph did fit the Civil War period, but the man's high-crowned leather cap differed from the uniform caps soldiers wore. His strange, lace-up shirt wasn't part of a military uniform or even a work shirt. A military expert helped Ms. Taylor determine that the gun, which appears to be an 1866-model Winchester repeating rifle, was not military-issue. Looking beyond the soldiers in her family, Ms. Osterhout found a match: Samuel Downs of Vineland, N.J., a blacksmith who, for reasons that remain unknown, did not serve in the Civil War despite being the right age. Mr. Downs might have been posing in his hunting gear. "I didn't know we had a hunter in the family," Ms. Osterhout says. Revolutionary War Ms. Taylor gives about 20 lectures a year, has a column in Family Tree Magazine and writes books, including "Uncovering Your Ancestry Through Family Photographs" (2005). Her latest quest may well be her most ambitious. Using census records, Ms. Taylor and a colleague, David Lambert, are tracking down photos of Revolutionary War veterans who lived to see the photography era in the late 1830s. So far, the researchers have found 100 images. They've also found photos of Revolutionary War families, including widows, by searching public and private collections for 1840s-era photographs of elderly people. "We're looking for pictures people don't know they have," says Ms. Taylor, who's working on a book about the topic. "The majority of photographs from that period are still unidentified. They're lost." Write to Alexandra Alter at alexandra.alter@wsj.com6 URL for this article: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB119214969916756801.html Hyperlinks in this Article: (1) http://Ancestry.com (2) OpenWin(' http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-enlargePic07.html?project=imageShell07&bigImage=WK-AK218_PHOTO_cov.jpg&h=682&w=604&title=WSJ.COM&thePubDate=20071011','imageShell07','604','738','off','true',40,10);return false; (3) http://blogs.wsj.com/independentstreet/2007/10/11/preserve-your-own-photo-history-small-shops-make-it-simple/ (4) http://blogs.wsj.com/independentstreet/2007/10/11/preserve-your-own-photo-history-small-shops-make-it-simple/ (5) OpenWin(' http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-enlargePic07.html?project=imageShell07&bigImage=WK-AK218_PHOTO_cov.jpg&h=682&w=604&title=WSJ.COM&thePubDate=20071011','imageShell07','604','738','off','true',40,10);return false; The Photo Detective October 12, 2007 The Photo Detective Does the shoebox in the attic hold family secrets? Alexandra Alter on how one expert unlocks the past. By *ALEXANDRA ALTER* October 12, 2007; Page W1 Maureen Taylor has dated a photograph to 1913 by studying the size and shape of a Lion touring car's headlamps. Armed with her collection of 19th-century fashion magazines, she can pinpoint the brief period when Victorian women wore their bangs in tight curls rather than swept back. Using a technique borrowed from the CIA, she identified a photo of Jesse James by examining the shape of his right ear. Photo sleuth Colleen Fitzpatrick of California talks about her own forensic techniques and analyzes two vintage family pictures. With millions of Americans obsessively tracing their roots, Ms. Taylor has emerged as the nation's foremost historical photo detective. During a recent meeting of the Maine Genealogical Society, attendees lined up a dozen deep as she handled their images with a cotton glove and peered at the details through a photographer's loupe. One man offered a portrait photo and asked if it could be of his great grandmother, who died in 1890. "It's not," Ms. Taylor said after about 15 seconds; she'd dated the hairstyle and billowy blouse to the early 20th century. When another attendee asked why her great-great-grandfather was wearing small hoops in his ears in a portrait, Ms. Taylor explained, "He was in the maritime trade." Each day, millions of people visit genealogy Internet sites such as Ancestry.com <http://Ancestry.com>^1 , which now has 15 million users, and has seen sales balloon to $151 million last year, three times the 2002 total. Ms. Taylor and a handful of other detectives are filling a growing niche in the genealogy business: dating and identifying the subjects of photographs. Since she launched her business 10 years ago, Ms. Taylor says, she's tackled some 10,000 photo puzzles. Working out of a cluttered office in her Westwood, Mass., home, she receives about 30 requests each week, up from five a decade ago. She is sought out by collectors, historians and even TV producers to weigh in on controversies. Her current preoccupation: finding lost or unidentified photos of people who lived during the Revolutionary War. *The Story Behind the Photo* ^2 Ms. Taylor, who charges $60 an hour, has learned to spot details that reveal not only a photo's period, but the story behind it. A broom at the feet of a couple in a mid-19th-century portrait, for instance, often marks it as a wedding picture. A photograph of a baby in a carriage from the 1860s might not be a birth announcement, but a death card; in that period of high infant mortality, dead infants were commonly photographed in carriages. A 19th-century woman with unusually short hair may have had scarlet fever, because it was common to shave a victim's head. The most satisfying cases, Ms. Taylor says, are those that reunite people with lost pieces of their past. When her 85-year-old mother moved into a nursing home, Cassie Horner, a 50-year-old free-lance writer in Plymouth, Vt., inherited more than 100 photographs, most of which were unidentified. In February, Ms. Horner and a cousin hired Ms. Taylor to analyze the images, especially a tintype of two women and a baby. Ms. Taylor dated the photo within two years of its creation, just by flipping it over; she recognized a Civil War tax stamp that was used from Aug. 1, 1864, to Aug. 1, 1866. With that time period, the cousins determined one woman was their great-grandmother, Myalina Gage, the eldest of 13 children, with her younger sister Malinda. The baby was likely one of Myalina's children who died. ^ ^ For years, Brad Leonard of Missoula, Mont., puzzled over the contents of an album he believed had belonged to his great-grandmother. So in January, he sent more than 50 images to Ms. Taylor. She spent four months researching Rhode Island photo studios, studying the family tree and comparing facial features. Eventually, she identified 25 of Mr. Leonard's ancestors in images she dated from 1860 to 1900. She said one was of his great-grandfather John, whose picture he had never seen. In one portrait, John Leonard leans jauntily on an ornamental column, wearing a bowler and a stylish pinstriped suit. It was strange, Mr. Leonard says, to see his own long, straight nose and deep-set eyes looking back at him. "Sometimes I think it would be nice if we could have a cocktail party and all meet," he says of his ancestors. Ms. Taylor says her job is more of a passion than a lucrative enterprise. As a child in Bristol, R.I., she occupied herself on snowy days by studying old family photos from her mother's closet. After earning a history degree in 1978, she joined the Rhode Island Historical Society, where she worked as an assistant photo curator and genealogical researcher. To augment her $6,000 salary, she took up a paper route. In the mornings, she worked on genealogy, poring over family records and church rosters. Afternoons were devoted to studying nuances of old photos like tintypes (they're made of iron, so magnets will stick to them) and daguerreotypes (they have reflective surfaces like mirrors). When the photos are well preserved, she says, "the people look like they're so real they could step out of the frame." [photos] Maureen Taylor in her office. There are currently about half a dozen family historians who specialize in dating images by clothing, photographic style or props. Some are using scientific methods to date photos, rather than focusing on details like clothing. Colleen Fitzpatrick, an optical scientist and genealogist who also studies handwriting, tries to answer questions about photographs by measuring shadows -- which might hint at what time of day they were taken -- or by measuring the dimensions of photos to determine what kind of camera was used. Kathleen Hinckley, executive director of the Association of Professional Genealogists, says Ms. Taylor has risen to the top of the field by bridging the disciplines of genealogy, art history, costume history and cultural anthropology. The first popular photographs, daguerreotypes, appeared in France and England in the 1830s. These small, reflective, metal images typically have protective cases and can last hundreds of years. The medium proved immensely popular. By the 1850s, studios made ambrotypes, images captured on glass with a mixture of ether and gun cotton; tintypes, photos made by coating iron plates with light-sensitive chemicals; and card photographs, prints mounted on cardboard. When candid photography arrived in 1889 with the invention of the Kodak snapshot, family collections swelled with shots of christenings, birthdays and everyday scenes. Problematically, few people thought to label them. Today, old photographs sit in attics or unlabeled boxes at antiques fairs and thrift shops, or drift unclaimed on eBay. Some Web sites hawk unidentified portraits, branding them "instant ancestors," while others specialize in reuniting orphaned photos with their families. One site, deadfred.com, has a database with more than 70,000 abandoned photos dating back as far as 1840; more than 1,100 have been claimed. One client of Ms. Taylor's, a New York artist, asked her to determine whether one of the four men in an 1874 photo was Jesse James. Using a technique she'd found in a book by a former CIA analyst, Ms. Taylor studied the shape of the man's right ear and compared it to photos known to be of James. A bump on the man's helix, combined with a receding hairline and narrow jaw, identified him as the infamous outlaw. On a typical morning, Ms. Taylor is at her desk by 8, scanning photos uploaded to her Web site or submitted by email. She often prints 20 or so and tacks them on her bulletin board to mull over. Sometimes, they stare back at her for months. One troublesome photograph, of a woman in a dress whose style was difficult to date, stayed on her board for a year before Ms. Taylor hit upon the answer. The woman, who was likely poor, had resewn the dress several times. Ms. Taylor is a compulsive collector of obscure reference books (one of her prize finds was an 1884 geographical dictionary called the Lippincott Gazetteer of the World), and has floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with guides to gravestone markers, buttons, shoes, Victorian costumes, encyclopedias of United States Army uniforms, quilt-pattern catalogs, encyclopedias of paper products, fabric swatches, stamp books, a manual on the symbolism of fraternal organizations and a guide to photo fakery written by a former official at the CIA's National Photographic Interpretation Center. [photo] After Ms. Taylor dated an unknown photo as 1900-1910, Rita Werner of Taylorville, Ill., was able to identify the women as (from left) her great-grandmother, her great-aunt and her great-grandmother's sister. She's constantly scavenging for old photographs, and has amassed an entire closet full of antique photos from flea markets, antique fairs and online auction sites. Among them is a cardboard box of 19th-century family portraits that she bought two years ago at an antiques fair in Brimfield, Mass. Each photograph is labeled according to the person's relationship to a mystery woman named Louise. "I haven't gotten to it yet," says Ms. Taylor, who's tall and slim with icy blue eyes. "I still have to find Louise." When an answer can't be found in one of her books or in images she's already identified and dated, she hunts down other experts to learn about horticulture, medical photography or 19th-century weapons. Sometimes, her conclusions topple well-established family lore. Marjorie Osterhout, 46, a free-lance writer in Seattle, was fairly certain she'd found a photo of a relative who'd served in the Civil War (see image <http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-enlargePic07.html>^5 ). The thin, stern-looking gentleman wears an ammunition belt and poses with a rifle and a black dog at his feet. She learned she had a tintype, a cheap, durable photograph Civil War soldiers often mailed home to relatives. In June, she submitted the image to Ms. Taylor to test the theory, and an answer arrived three days later. The photograph did fit the Civil War period, but the man's high-crowned leather cap differed from the uniform caps soldiers wore. His strange, lace-up shirt wasn't part of a military uniform or even a work shirt. A military expert helped Ms. Taylor determine that the gun, which appears to be an 1866-model Winchester repeating rifle, was not military-issue. Looking beyond the soldiers in her family, Ms. Osterhout found a match: Samuel Downs of Vineland, N.J., a blacksmith who, for reasons that remain unknown, did not serve in the Civil War despite being the right age. Mr. Downs might have been posing in his hunting gear. "I didn't know we had a hunter in the family," Ms. Osterhout says. *Revolutionary War* Ms. Taylor gives about 20 lectures a year, has a column in Family Tree Magazine and writes books, including "Uncovering Your Ancestry Through Family Photographs" (2005). Her latest quest may well be her most ambitious. Using census records, Ms. Taylor and a colleague, David Lambert, are tracking down photos of Revolutionary War veterans who lived to see the photography era in the late 1830s. So far, the researchers have found 100 images. They've also found photos of Revolutionary War families, including widows, by searching public and private collections for 1840s-era photographs of elderly people. "We're looking for pictures people don't know they have," says Ms. Taylor, who's working on a book about the topic. "The majority of photographs from that period are still unidentified. They're lost." *Write to* Alexandra Alter at alexandra.alter@wsj.com <mailto:alexandra.alter@wsj.com>^6 URL for this article: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB119214969916756801.html *Hyperlinks in this Article:* (1) http://Ancestry.com (2) OpenWin(' http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-enlargePic07.html?project=imageShell07&bigImage=WK-AK218_PHOTO_cov.jpg&h=682&w=604&title=WSJ.COM&thePubDate=20071011','imageShell07','604','738','off','true',40,10);return false; <http://online.wsj.com/article_email/article_print/OpenWin%28%27%20http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-enlargePic07.html?project=imageShell07&bigImage=WK-AK218_PHOTO_cov.jpg&h=682&w=604&title=WSJ.COM&thePubDate=20071011%27,%27imageShell07%27,%27604%27,%27738%27,%27off%27,%27true%27,40,10%29;return%20false;> (3) http://blogs.wsj.com/independentstreet/2007/10/11/preserve-your-own-photo-history-small-shops-make-it-simple/ (4) http://blogs.wsj.com/independentstreet/2007/10/11/preserve-your-own-photo-history-small-shops-make-it-simple/ (5) OpenWin(' http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-enlargePic07.html?project=imageShell07&bigImage=WK-AK218_PHOTO_cov.jpg&h=682&w=604&title=WSJ.COM&thePubDate=20071011','imageShell07','604','738','off','true',40,10);return false; <http://online.wsj.com/article_email/article_print/OpenWin%28%27%20http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-enlargePic07.html?project=imageShell07&bigImage=WK-AK218_PHOTO_cov.jpg&h=682&w=604&title=WSJ.COM&thePubDate=20071011%27,%27imageShell07%27,%27604%27,%27738%27,%27off%27,%27true%27,40,10%29;return%20false;> (6) mailto:alexandra.alter@wsj.com Copyright 2007 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. 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October 11, 2007, 9:36 pm Preserve Your Own Photo History: Small Shops Make it Simple Posted by Wendy Bounds In her story <http://online.wsj.com/article/SB119214969916756801.html> today about photo sleuths, Alexandra Alter makes the all too true point that most of us born before the advent of digital photography have troves of old photographs just sitting in attics or unlabeled boxes. To reconstruct our family history this way would require more than sleuthing. It would take a dust mask and knock-down brawl with spiders and mice. And then we’d have to scan them one by one. Photo-service entrepreneurs saw the future a while ago and invested in equipment to make it less painful for the rest of us. Foremost among them are photo retail veterans Mitch Goldstone and his partner Carl Berman of 30 Minute Photos Etc. in Irvine, Calif. Through their Web site scanmyphotos.com <http://scanmyphotos.com> anyone in the U.S. can pay $99.95 for a flat, prepaid box from the U.S. Postal Service, fill it with as many photos as they can (roughly 1,600 4?x6? photos) and send it to 30 Minute Photos. It will scan the images and mail them and a DVD back in a day. Enhancements and restoration cost extra. Other services are doing the same kind of work. Several are mentioned in this story <http://online.wsj.com/article/SB118687354686695264-search.html?KEYWORDS=scanmyphotos.com&COLLECTION=wsjie/6month>. From there, it’s up to you to arrange, label and date the photos on your computer, but the hard part is done. Even photography giants such as Eastman Kodak Co. <http://online.wsj.com/quotes/main.html%3Fsymbol%3DEK%26type%3Dusstock> credit small photo developers such as 30 Minute Photos Etc. with alerting them to the market potential <http://online.wsj.com/article/SB117020659033393092-search.html?KEYWORDS=scanmyphotos.com&COLLECTION=wsjie/6month> of helping us get our memories out of the dusty boxes. It’s a good example of how the small players in an industry that seemed doomed found a way to embrace its biggest threat–the digital age–and thus preserve its own history. Readers, what services, technology and tricks have you used to save your photos? Permalink <http://blogs.wsj.com/independentstreet/2007/10/11/preserve-your-own-photo-history-small-shops-make-it-simple/> | Trackback URL: http://blogs.wsj.com/independentstreet/2007/10/11/preserve-your-own-photo-history-small-shops-make-i

Rowing -Cayuga Inlet ? http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21231small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21231.jpg Letterhead from SIMONS in Union Springs http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21232small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21232.jpg King Ferry stamps http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21233small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21233.jpg Wells Tennis Courts http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21234small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21234.jpg

http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21229small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21229.jpg

Auburn Drop Forge where was it ? http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21226small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21226.jpg

http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21228small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21228.jpg anyone know who and where this is

http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21226small.jpg http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~springport/pictures212/21226.jpg note the big triangle