Announcing
the 2008 Scholarship Award Winners:
My Catskill Heritage
By Brandon LaBumbard
Heritage is one of the many keys that fit the lock
io our identity. Without a
heritage there would he a valuable part missing from
our lives. That is why I take pride in
my heritage. I am glad to say that I grew up in the
Caiskill Mountains. Here the land is
gorgeous the water is clean and the air is refreshing.
In the fall the leaves change color
making the Catskill Mountains dazzling to onca eye.
This all makes me thankful that I
was raised in the safe mountains where I could grow
up undamaged by the lands outside
the Catskiils.
1 feel honored and gifted living in a small town because
the people are friendly
and there is a strong connection between the students
and teachers, who oiler !ie!p -ivhcn
it is needed. The subjects that appeal to me the most
are Ihe sciences and mathematics. I
excel in the science and math subjects and plan to
attend college at SUNY-ESF for
wildlife science and adolescent education in biology
so that T can pass on the wisdom and
admiration for science that I have received.
One of the most influential activities on my life
that I have done wss when I
participated in the BFL (Birds in Forested Landscapes)
program through Cornell over the
summer. This volunteer research program is to help
determine how many birds have
come back to the area to nest, record observations
on the effects of pollution to the birds,
and to help determine the population of the local
species. I enjoyed researching and
finding out about some different wildlife I did know
know lived in our area. I enjoyed this
study so much that I plan on participating in it again
this year.
Click.
by Anthony Mincarelli
My vision-goggles started up, singing their little
boot song, and a few seconds
later the video starts up. The video is blocked by
what looks like a vaguely human shape,
which soon clears up and the figure sits down, obviously
having to adjust the camera
himself. The person is my great-great grandfather,
dead for almost 6 years now. He
sighs and starts to talk.
"If y:yi are watching this," he says "it
must be many years in the future."
"Yeah, right." I mutter under my breath,
as he continues talking.
"I am recording from the soon-to-be-gone CatskiB
Mountains. I refuse to leave,
and they say the result will be a 22nd century equivalent
of what happened when they
flooded what was once known as the Papacton Reservoir."
I should stop right now to say that my great-great
grandfather, Anthony
Mincarelli, was a native of the Catskill Mountains.
He grew up there and was fascinated
with the history of the place. When the world went
to the skies, he stayed there, insisting
that the land was still livable. He was there until
about 6 years ago when the Great
Fertilization happened, giving the children of the
skies the food they needed to survive.
"It would be beneficial for the skies to know
what happened on this land. Many,
many good things happened here that might never be
remembered if they are not
recorded now."
I sighed and settled down, knowing this would be long.
"I won't make this long seeing how I want to
save space for this 'Great
Fertilization'. These mountains, they have been my
home. I remember fishing in the
brook at the bottom of my driveway, going up the road
to the family farm to visit my
cousins. I remember every time we drove past the Reservoir,
my eyes lit up when I was
little. I can remember my senior year so vividly like
it happened yesterday. The trip, the
stress, the good times had by all." He sighed,
"Times never to be remembered if this is
lost. The following is a few clips from my childhood."
Short clips are flashed before me, my great-great
grandfather as a toddler,
gurgling on the swing set, him as a young teen holding
a chicken, and him as a senior,
accepting his diploma. The picture switches back to
him.
"I am sorry that this is happening. If more people
were committed to saving this
land, these memories would never end, and would be
added to by future generations. I
must end this now, or else there will be nothing left
for the re-forming of the land."
My great-great grandfather gets up and turns off the
camera. The final image
fades to green and I sigh. I was looking forward to
a few more stories of the past, but I
guess there wouldn't be any. I take off the goggles
and remove the video-chip, putting it
in the tube to send to the Sky National Museum of
History.
Alyssa
Fane
Roxbury Central School Catskill Heritage Scholarship
Essay
There are several obvious reasons to love living in
the Catskills: the beautiful
scenery, the seasonal sports, and the quiet neighborhoods
that are perfect for retiring or
raising families. I love the Catskills for a different
reason: its unique sense of community
that is found in these small Catskill Mountain towns.
Acts of generosity and support that I
have encountered in my life could not have been found
elsewhere. I've been lucky
enough to experience living with all classes of people
and to watch how small
communities act as a web of trust and support.
The sense of community in the Catskills is one of
a kind. Recently a second
home owner in the Catskills commented on how locals
will ".. .talk behind your back, but
they'll be the first ones at your house if you had
a fire." This statement couldn't be more
accurate. Gossip remains a problem of small town life,
but I have watched as huge groups
of people pull together when tragedy strikes. For
example, this past year a young child
was killed in a horrible accident in my community.
Our entire town mourned with their
family. People took turns looking after the family's
other children, local businesses put
donation jars in their stores, and in school we had
moments of silence during the day of
the little boy's funeral. It was as if we all had
lost our little brother. In a big city this sort
of combine effort on such a personal level would never
be possible,
Small towns like the one I live in are a microcosm
of society; rich, poor, and
middle class all live and work together. In towns
with such low populations we can't help
but converse with and befriend people from different
ethnic or financial classes. I am
friends with people who live in poverty as well as
people who are extremely well-off.
Surprisingly we get along beautifully. In a different
environment it might be odd to see a farmer and a
retired Broadway performer having coffee together,
but here it is a normal
occurrence. The steady influx of talented city people
who move here live and socialize
side by side with our working class. As a result,
we interact with all walks of life,
something nearly impossible to do anywhere else.
In a small Catskill Mountain town, residents form
a network of connections; if
I don't know someone in town, my friend does. One
afternoon in my sophomore year I
was fundraising for my class. I was selling pizza
to a woman who lived across the street
from the business my family runs. The woman asked
me what I wanted to do when I
grew up and I told her that I planned to be a journalist.
She remembered that she knew of
a writer who owned a house in town, so she introduced
us. This woman hardly knew me
and was only an acquaintance to the writer. This writer,
Bethany, works for The New
York Times and meeting her turned out to be the best
thing that could have happened to
me because of my aspiration to become a writer myself.
I still see Bethany regularly and
she's currently assisting me with my college search.
I love the way that little connections
like this these turn out to be such huge advantages;
I believe that this sort of thing
couldn't have happened to me somewhere else.
Living in the Catskills has allowed me to see and
understand many walks of
life, to be introduced to great people, and to know
that if I ever have a problem, there will
be at least half a town willing to help bear the burden
of my dilemma. Because of
everything this area has offered me, I am proud to
call the Catskill Mountains my home. My growing knowledge
for wildlife is what I am most interested in to farther
peruse my future endeavors. My passion is to help
save threatened species which I
consider to be one of my most predominate strengths.
I feel that we can't enjoy life if
nature isn't there to add beauty and happiness to
our everyday world. I feel that it is a gift
living here in the Catskills because we are surrounded
by all different kinds of fauna and
flora and were nature can be enjoyed by looking out
a window. Nature is a big part of my
heritage and it is what makes me part of the Catskill
like because there isn't another place
I would rather live It is always good to go away for
a while but that makes coming back
even more special. I hope that after college and a
successful life I can return to the
Catskills to live out the rest of my life, who knows
I might even decide to return here to
raise my own family so that I can pass on the heritage
that was bestowed upon me by my
relatives and community over that past eighteen years.
I love the fact that when I get up in the morning
and go to school I can relate to so
many people that have lived here there entire lives
and others that don't because these
lands are very open and welcoming to anyone. Most
of the people are friendly and
respectful which shows that people were raised right
and honorable. This place is exactly
what the Catskill Heritage Alliance states, "...
preserving the harmony between people
and wilderness in the central Catskills."
This is why I am proud to say that I grew up and came
from the Catskills when I
venture out on my own. Out there in the real world
I will be able to pass on the same
great qualities I picked up and learned by others
that live in this gorgeous, peaceful, and
secluded region of New York and why I consider my
heritage to be one of the best
aspects that has influenced my life for the better.
Children
and the Catskills
Meaghan Harper
The Catskills
.............These days,
not too many seem to remember my family name. I am
a Harper, yet I live
amongst Twiggs. My heritage in these mountains is
a renewal of memories, although they are not my own.
.............I am a part
of the legacy of Billy Twigg and the White Water Depot,
and a faraway
member of the Floridian Harpers.
.............I have lived
in the same house since the age of four, and the gardens
surrounding it have grown as much as I have.
.............The white
picket fence has long since rotted down to the nails,
and by moonlight my
mother hacked it all down two years ago. Spring had
just started.
.............My Catskill
heritage is not one of joyous measures. I have lost
many while I have lived here, and gained few. Yet
woe is not me, as I have inherited much from the opposing
sides of my family.
.............The acquisition
of a love of music, of art, of peace, and of the understanding
that life is as it is, the bad will come hand-in-hand
with the good. You never know who will step through
the door first.
.............I am the
reminder of a double dose of alcoholic tendencies,
of disconcerting mental
disorders, and the attempt to be selfless.
.............I have received
the gift of nature, not pavement, while I have lived
here. I have learned to find innocent fun wandering
the forests, and the sun is never blocked by a building.
.............The changes
this area has experienced in the last thirteen years
are, in my mind, drastic.
.............I live in
a small neighborhood, a small community with children
that I've grown up with.
.............I have watched
the effects of boredom in these mountains. The drugs,
the partying, and the sex, all of it, has been the
recurring downfall of my family.
.............I wonder,
how could anyone, knowing the expense of it all, welcome
such things?
Why would I?
The
Beauty of the Catskills
By: Hannah Connelly
My Catskill heritage stared with my grandma (NaNa)
coming up in the late
60's early 70's and she lived in the house that my
mother, stepfather, and I
live in now. What the Catskills mean to me...
Quiet, peace, dead standing trees, open woods, bears,
bees, the reservoir, the
big blue water. Lots of rain, precipitation, small-minded
people, big dreams.
Beautiful nights sky, twinkling stars, narcotic chipmunks,
hawks, and falcons
swarm around die cold ground. Fresh air, trees to
climb, old trails to explore,
muddy boots, golden fields of grain. Green and blue
colors, east, west, the
suns rise. Stuck, glide, let go your mind. Open space,
old rusting cars resting
on soggy ground.
Same people, same faces, cows, pigs, turkeys, deer,
big brown eyes. Feathers,
bark, run away moon. Window, cold stair, not there.
Bobcats, mountain
lions, swimming fish, flooded towns, underground.
Fessent, grouse, just
hanggin' out, ducks, crows, feel the wind blow.
Weather the changing seasons. Rearranging musical
notes. Drums, base, free
spirit. Drugs, addiction, the darker side of town.
Ignorant hicks, blind
operations, dentists, doctors, pay for clock hours.
White people, no colored
skin, old pink polka dotted memories. Broken glass
bottles covered by time
and earth. Soft soil, underground stream, inside scream,
dance and prance,
play your chance. Drunken sleep, red necks squeak,
the things you replace,
and you cannot keep. Burned down brick buildings,
solemn stone fire place
stands out among the woods. Birds sing, chipmunks
swing seeds in their little
mouths. Flying down the mountain on the back of a
snowboard, hit my
backbone on ice, slide more than just twice. Bushy
lilacs sent the sweet air, /
pollen blowing everywhere. Spring is coming soon enough.
All of a sudden/
the mountains open up, and glow and sparkle low. Sunset
explodes in hot,
pink, makes me think. Writing with ink, just give
me a wink, innocent blue
jay, come here, my way. Leave today, don't complain,
please refrain from
battering my heart Mother's milk, poison silk drips
from heaven above. C)rily
love, haylo widow, black clay rises from the ashes
of living things past Dusk
settles in my skin, rest awhile, fairy child. Let
me believe in the impossible, let
me see the unknown. Seasons changing, spinning raging.
North, south, don't
you dare doubt, me. Maybe we can change, maybe we
can fix our ways.
2007
prizewinning "Our Catskill Heritage" essays
from schoolkids in our area:
Michelle
Wojciechowski - Roxbury School
Many
folks see the country side as a lush land of trees
and a small town get-away from
the bustling city lifestyle, but under the blankets
of lush green trees mirrors the hard lives of
many struggling denizens striving to get by with
a small dollar. Inside the picture perfect oil
painted barn lives a city business of itself with
a slightly different kind of business man which
for
a portion of my life I have observed; the farmer,
working hours in the fields tending to his
livestock and crops just to pay the bills, never
forgetting his family and friends with his deep
heart roots longer than the Catskill oaks themselves.
I
was thirteen when I was handed an opportunity greater
than any, an opportunity that taught me
many virtues of life including patience, friendship,
responsibility, machinery and the value of a
dollar. I arrived on the farm in the warm summer
months where my brother also held a job. I
admired the hard work of the intricate machinery
and the way the other workers helped each
other out as family. I watched the ways the milking
machines worked to the advantage of the
fanner, the way the green and yellow of the tractor
glowed proud as gold as it swept through the
golden hay like a horse with its master. Of most
I enjoyed the companionship of the cows
themselves and the small beagle that also had its
place. My favorite time of the year was when I
went up the mountain on the small tractor to cheek
the spring, it was like you were rising above
the troubles looking out on the world. I could see
the old grain mill, the train as it strolled by
slowly on the tracks and the tourists as they give
you a friendly wave. Summer also brought hard
work which I learned was a large part of the farm
life. Haying started at seven in the morning and
ended at three then milking chores until five. We
would drive through town on me tractor up the hill
and we would gather on the large hay load for a
lunch break as we watched the sun on the hills and
talked aimlessly about nothing.
Summer
came and went faster than the waters of the rivers,
soon leaves began to fall and paint
the colors of orange red and yellow over the green
canvas. Hay season Was done, calves began to birth
and new life came with the death of the summer sun.
The farm had a cold chill that set with the cast
of the barns shadow, you could watch from the barns
peak as the neighboring farmers came to help out
their fellow farmer. It was that day that I took
down the hand painted "sweet corn" sign
that stood before the small farm stand before the
barns drive as the locals drove by with a friendly
wave During the time of winter, life slowed down
and the people of the town went into hibernation
but not the farm work. I still milked in the winter
months and enjoyed it very much as I continuedlearning
and prospering. Before I knew it, winter was gone
and spring came just as fast.
On
December 7th 2006, the Bouton farm sold out, an
era lost. That rainy day was a sad day for
everyone that came to see the. For four years at
that job I learned more than what I could have
ever learned at any other job; first to be patient
because things in life will go wrong like things
on the farm did, to love and to be able to love
all even if they may be hard to work with,
responsibility to show up for work that must be
done, the value of a dollar because if you work
hard enough, money is a gift. I also learned girls
are just as capable as men but out of everything
the one thing I have learned is that the mountains
are filled with people who hold a heart bigger than
their body who are always willing to give people
a chance and their time to teach. My boss had owned
a farm for 52 years and had given me a privilege
of four years on it and even though his death in
January 2007 hurt the hearts of many, we all remember
how he touched us as well.
*****
Philip
Rezac Jr. - Andes School
The
One
I speak for all those who choose not to
I am the voice of reason and compassion
I am the mountain, (he water, and the bear
I am kind.
You are the voice of despair
Your words and thoughts are the cause
You are the machine that decimates all of me
You are unforgiving.
Together, we are influence.
We builct incredible hopes and imaginations
We show them a side that they've never seen
W& are cruel in our most basic sense
We are balance,
Together, we are the one.
*****
Melinda
White - Margaretville Central School
Our
Catskill Heritage
The
Catskill Mountains surround one of the most beautiful
places in New York
As a child, I grew up in Sullivan County, in an
area that was still vaguely considered part
of the Catskills region but had none of the grandeur
of blue misted mountains and deep
valleys. Upon moving to the Margaretville area several
years ago, I was instantly struck
by the beauty of the landscapes that provided a
backdrop for the town. I feel that,
because I have not always grown up around such natural
wonders, I am better positioned
to fully notice and appreciate our majestic surroundings.
Many teenagers and even adults who have lived here
for their entire lives never
really take the time to appreciate the Catskills.
A large portion of students have never
even hiked one of the mountains, despite their proximity
over an entire life-span. An
important part of recognizing our Catskill Heritage
is to explore what Mother Nature has
spread out for us by climbing up Giant Ledge and
spending half an hour gazing at the
picturesaue views, or trying to identify the numerous
bird species that flit around your
head.
To
me, a 'Catskill Heritage' implies that we are all
entitled to share the Catskills,
yet we bear some responsibility for it as well.
The massive amount of public lands,
hiking trails, fishing and hunting opportunities,
and charming wilderness in general is a
gift from Nature to everyone. Although we may begrudge
the seasonal tourists who
arrive to take advantage of our surroundings, they
too are entitled to enjoy the natural wonders of
the Catskills. These mountains are part of our heritage;
at birth, we were
brought into an area with boundless outdoor activities
and beautiful sights awaiting us.
However, we must be sure to take care of the Catskill
as well, or we will have no
natural scenery to make up our heritage. This message
is especially relevant for residents
as Earth Day approaches. Perhaps we could all use
some reminding that if we don't take
care of our environment around us, it will disappear.
We as a people need to keep an eye
on developments, energy sources, pollution, and
littering in the area. Just as the Catskills
are part of a common heritage, so too are they a
commonresponsibility.
I
consider myself privileged to have spent a few years
of my life in the Catskill
Mountain area. The immense scope of recreational
activities and elegant beauty that
permeates every aspect of life in Margaretville
has led to many irreplaceable memories. I
will always have a fond spot in my heart for the
Catsldlls, and in future years I hope to
return and be reminded of this incredible landscape
that is a part of our common heritage.
*****
Claire
Branman - Onteora School
I
Am A Mountaineer Dead Deer
I'm
in my room
Sitting on my bed
Thinking
Thinking
Thinking
And then I get up
And walk out my front door
Stick my headphones into my ears
And listen to the music
As I walk up my road
And swerve up the nearby hill
My speed picks up as I near
A miniature waterfall
I look down at the gushing water and sigh
Then I march onwards and upwards
A half hour passes by
And I veer around a comer where a friend of mine
used to live
And I think maybe I should stop here
But instead I say to myself
Wait until this song ends
So I keep walking
And already I'm partway down a steep incline
So I instead when the song ends I keep walking
Then I reach a tree stump I've driven by thousands
of times
And I decide why not keep going till I reach the
end of the road
Then I stop thinking
And I just walk
I sing to the music
I breathe in the spring air
I look at the gravel and the grass at the side of
road
I pass the hunters club
And I think about shaking my fist
But instead I just hope that the deer stay far away
And remain at the DEP station where no hunters can
shoot to kill
Still onward I walk
Until finally I realize it's been two hours
And if I don't turn around I'll never make it home
before dark
So sweaty and tired I spin to face the other way
And trek home
With my thoughts less clustered
And my body ready for sleep
Thanks
to all the participating students and teachers
Prizewinning
"Our Catskill Heritage"
Essays from 2006
Margaretville
HS
Eun Lee
March 30, 2006
"Mv Catskill Heritage"
The worn-in trails rest solitary in the rolling hills
of Catskill
I sit, gazing at the rough yet poised nature of my
surrounding.
The infinite closed clusters of trees stand tall and
strong,
having endured many years of trials and life.
I pray to have the same luck as they did in standing
tall and strong
against the challenges I will face in years to come.
The silence is broken by the blowing breeze and the
twittering birds
soaring through the unguarded sky.
Blazing reds streak through the open air as the sun
slowly sets down.
The sight is a wonder to behold just like my home
in the Catskill.
My background, my life, my memories, stays here in
the heart of Catskill.
My life was intertwined with nature though I did not
care to notice.
But as I grow older and wiser, I realize that nature
is precious.
Harmony is necessary for balance in life.
Fulfill humankind's destiny by uniting man and nature.
I am seventeen going on eighteen.
A new path lies in front of me, a new branch of my
journey waiting to be embarked upon.
I started my journey in a worn path in the Catskill.
I find a fresh path, rugged and arduous.
That's the path I choose.
I look back at the trip I made, the path I took.
Regrets, happiness, sadness, everything was all for
the better.
I look forward now, the new path waiting for footsteps
to tread upon.
I step forward, fresh mud lie, slick with wetness.
I slide, I hold onto a branch. It holds me up.
Catskill is there to support me.
That’s all I need to know.
Roxbury
Central School
Kelli Huggins
Roxbury Central School
My Catskill Heritage
Whenever anyone asks me where Roxbury is, my usual
response is to say, "Drive to the middle-of-nowhere
and take a left". Then after a few laughs, I
actually describe the area in more exact terms. Despite
my poor attempts at humor, I truly have a deep respect
and appreciation for the Catskills.
I have lived in the Catskills for my entire life.
Growing up in a rural area has definitely shaped my
perspectives and molded me into the person that I
am today. One of the most rewarding aspects of life
in the Catskills is the kinship that is fostered in
small communities. I have always appreciated being
able to walk down the street and see people that I
know and can talk to. It is very comforting to know
that there are always people in the community that
are genuinely concerned with your well-being and happiness.
Living in a small town is like having your own personal
support group, therapist, and second family all rolled
into one convenient package.
Living in a town nestled in the midst of the Catskill
Mountains has also given me a great appreciation for
the beauty of nature. Spring in the Catskills is characterized
by flowers and plants emerging from their dormant
winter hibernation. The summer brings about warm days
full of long hours of sunlight. In autumn, the majestic
maple trees become chameleons as their leaves change
from green to gold and red. Winter generally means
that the land becomes blanketed by beautiful snowfalls.
No matter the season, the splendor of nature is always
evident in the Catskills.
The Catskills have even influenced my career aspirations.
Throughout my schooling, I have repeatedly heard the
stories of John Burroughs, Jay Gould, Zadock Pratt,
and the many other historical figures that have come
from this area. I was captivated by these figures
and their contributions to the country. It always
inspired me to know that they lived in the same little
community as I and that they were able to achieve
so many wonderful accomplishments. Unfortunately,
the vast history that this region has to offer often
goes unnoticed and is underappreciated. I find it
upsetting to discover that some people have never
heard the great life stories of our local heroes.
This has inspired me to major in History at college.
I hope to eventually be able to educate others about
the rich heritage of the Catskills.
My Catskill heritage has profoundly affected every
aspect of my life. I believe that opportunities that
are provided and the overwhelming beauty of the area
make the Catskills one of the best places in the world
to grow up. In that case, the next time someone asks
me about my hometown I will say, "The middle-of-nowhere
is somewhere after all.
AP
Language Seminar Paper 16
Rosie Winn 2/23/06
"My Catskill Heritage"
Old Hurley, New York. The second capital of New York
State. Well, unofficially the
second capital of New York State. It was technically
the capital for a few weeks, at least, when
the first capital, Kingston, was burned down during
the War of 1812, an event that is
enthusiastically reenacted every summer, sometime
after the Fourth of July fireworks and before
the traveling carnival comes to town. See that stone
house over there? No, that stone house,
right there. George Washington slept there. Probably.
Maybe. It doesn't matter that if George
Washington were to have slept in all the places people
claim he did, there would have been no
time left for him to win the Revolutionary War. Our
Washington House must be authentic.
Old Hurley, New York. Soar to it at eighty miles an
hour through the sweet corn fields,
straight down Route 209, but remember to slow down
for the state trooper barracks. Take a left
at the sign that says "Welcome to Old Hurley,
Founded 1661", and drive onto Hurley's Main
Street. Another day, you'll go straight over the bridge
over the Esopus Creek and see the small
people fishing below before reentering the ever-present
com fields, or you'll take a left onto Old
Route 209 and pass the Country Store, where you can
buy model airplanes and candy, art supplies
and hunting gear, and the Hurley Mountain Inn, deer
heads tacked to the wall and men in the bar
even at noon. That's for a different day.
Today, turn right and drive past the Stewart's gas
station, where in the summer you can
bike to for ice cream cones. Pass the Old Dutch Church
with their preschool for all the kids in
Hurley and basement where Girl Scout meetings are
held. See the old stone houses (dating back
to 1680!) on both sides of the road. Watch the library
with its friendly librarian and dusty stacks
of books recede into the distance. There goes the
Key Bank, the historical society, the cemetery
where Revolutionary War veterans are buried. When
you were little, you might have thought the
town held everything necessary for life and happiness.
Turn right once again and continue to Myer Elementary
School. The basketball courts
today are deserted; the jungle gyms are empty. Soon
there will be new kids crowding the halls
and the classrooms; playing kickball in the gym; chasing
each other at recess. They'll attend school "dances"
in the cafeteria (4th and 5th graders only) and think
long division is incredibly hard. They'll grow up
here, in this seemingly idealized world, until divorce
and loss and separation touch their lives.
Travel down to the dead end of the road. Leave the
car and cut through someone's
backyard to Orchard Street. Walk past the houses of
the neighbors, the Tschinkels' and the
Scotts', old Mr. and Mrs. Millers' and Jean's. They're
all gone now- moved away or died.
Notice the white farmhouse right before the road loops
back onto itself. In the side yard, a little
girl plays. Maybe she's climbing the willow tree in
the backyard, where she'll remain perched
for hours reading a book. Or she's involved in an
intense game of Manhunt through the woods.
It could be she's riding her bike up one hill, down
another all along the street. Perhaps she's
"camping out" in the backyard, keeping the
tent pitched for weeks with her best friends.
It's only a matter of time before the girl leaves
Hurley. The library will lose its intrigue,
walking down Main Street for an adventure will become
common and boring, she'll discover that this is a
"just another middle-of-nowhere" town, filled
with self admiration of its own perceived
importance. But for now, the girl will stand in awe
of the second state capital status and the legend
of the
night George Washington stopped here.
Andes
Josh Weaver
My Catskill Heritage
06/22/06
I used to think that my Catskill Heritage was unimportant.
I thought my boring loser
laden town was the armpit of the earth. When I look
back on my attitude and outlook on life in
the Catskills I can think of nothing but negativity.
What I did not realize about my Catskill
Heritage, however, is that I am truly the loser. If
there is one thing I have learned about growing
up in a small town it is that any given area you grow
up in can be either a negative experience or
a positive one. I have found that life actually is
what you make it, as my mother would say.
This area has given me a better perspective of life.
I no longer look at my hometown as
"the armpit of the earth", in fact; I've
come to appreciate the lack of activity. As a kid
city life
seems to be most appealing, but when you look at the
whole scheme of things this place is like
heaven on earth. Those very same city dwellers put
their fortunes into weekend homes in the
Catskills. Some city folk retire to the Catskills
to escape the over-populated and polluted city.
To quote my mother once more; "the grass isn't
always greener on the other side." I
guess you do not truly appreciate the simplicity,
yet, utter genius, of that idea until you grow up
and see the world around you. My opinion on the Catskills
to this day is that I have learned and
grown from this place and its people. Sure, my life
is dull at times, I'm an hour from the nearest
mall, and I do not live next to a Starbucks, but it
is that same lack of convenience that has made me
resourceful. In summation, The Catskills have given
me character. The Catskills have made me
appreciate that which I have taken for granted since
birth. If I were given the chance to start a new life
in the
location of my choice I would most definitely choose
to live here all over again.
