Ramapo Mountain Stories and Tales

RINGWOOO PUBLIC LIBRARY, NJ MAR 5 3 6047 09033297 3

Tales of My Recollections and Collections \ / j/ fit \ A by/

NC.-WQCD PUBLIC Unc,ARY l^Si;.VLA:T;S ;- -••'*' VJO.-^, .,LW JF'AS.Y 07456 201-962-6256 Louis P. West, Sr.

Copyright Louis P. West, Sr. "My main concern is that the colorful history of Long Pond Iron Works is accurately written so as to portray a true picture of the important past".

I dedicate this book to my father, Harry H. West my mother, Bessie L. West and my loving wife, May G. West I wish to express my gratitude to the following for helping me to compile this book. Again, I wish to thank:

Jeanne Riker James M. Ransom William Trusewicz Dick Davies Paul Rosedale

Copyright 1995, Louis West Sr. Printed in the United States of America All rights in this book are reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. "My main concern is that the colorful history of Long Pond Iron Works is accurately written so as to portray a true picture of the important past".

Jeanne Riker James M. Ransom William Trusewicz Dick Davies Paul Rosedale

Contents:

FOREWORD

INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR, LOUIS P. WEST, SR.

CHAPTER 1: A Brief Introduction of What Ringwood Was Like in the 1920's 3

CHAPTER 2: I Closed the Door 5

CHAPTER 3: Ringwood's Superstitions, Omens and Beliefs 13

CHAPTER 4: Ringwood's Greatest Social Event 19

CHAPTER 5: Saving Miss Sally's Life 23

CHAPTER 6: Miss Sally & The Hinge 25

CHAPTER 7: Papa's Trains and Sally 27

CHAPTER 8: Stories of the Ringwood Mine Area 33

CHAPTER 9: "Here is the Mail, Mom" 37

CHAPTER 10: Where is George? 47

CHAPTER 11: The Beginning of the End 51

CHAPTER 12: Sally vs. Harry 63

CHAPTER 13: The Forges of Ringwood 73

CHAPTER 14: The Flight of the Gloria 81

CHAPTER 15: Ye Old Country Store 91

CHAPTER 16: Visions of the Past 99

Foreword

ML,y first experience with Mr. West was almost eight years ago when I opened the doors of my Mail Boxes Etc. Center in Ringwood. As part of our grand opening in March of 1988, we offered a free drawing of prizes to those who dared to open the doors of our unknown business commodity to fill out an entry slip. One of the prizes was 20 pairs of tickets to the forthcoming New York Mets baseball season. By now you know who won this drawing, yes ... Mr. Louis P. West, Sr. Little did I know that years later I would be working with him on the publication of his book. Mr. West called me in August of 1994, and told me of his life long dream of writing a book on local history and fable. He now refers to his book as his "pride and joy", and I believe you will see why after you read his wonderful stories and view the extraordinary photographs, maps and historical documents included in its sixteen chapters. Having never been involved with the publication of a book, I immediately said I would help. Of course I indicated that this would be a first for me, but that I would very much like to be involved, as long as I could do it for him without compensation. Guess you could call me a real wheeler-dealer. Over a year has gone by since that call last August, and the book is now in production. The past year involved many visits with Mr. West, and I guess I am most satisfied by the fact that I was able to some degree to keep him writing so that many of us could read what it was like back then. To me, it was never enough ... I always wanted more. I felt at times like I was a child asking to hear a story before I went to sleep, and I always wanted one more. Please, just one more... After countless meetings with various people who were experienced in writing and publication, I decided to keep his book as he wrote it, basically unedited, as I believed it would lose some of its charm if edited to modern day grammar and phraseology, even spelling. It was priceless to me observing Evelyn, our Office Manager, entering all of this history into a computer, and watching a word processing spell-check attempt to toss out words no longer in use, yet words accurate in spelling and meaning. If you have never heard of a hame or an adit or a dinkey locomotive, neither had I (or Word Perfect). Words like hennery, junkman and crackshot obviously are not in Word Perfect's vocabulary. My involvement with Mr. West has been a highlight of my life, and I will always treasure the time I had with him making his dream come true. Surely he could have done better than me with someone more experienced in writing, but I don't think he would have been working with someone who would have cared nearly as much. Thanks, Mr. West. And thanks for allowing us to share your wonderful memories.

Paul Rosedale Ringwood, New Jersey

Introduction to the Author, Louis P. West, Sr.

IVIy ancestors first arrived from England in 1635. They settled mostly on Long Island along the waterfront. They were baymen, boat builders and ship riggers. My great grandfather, George Francis West, was a sea captain. He was captain of the square-rigged ship "The Edwina" of New York. His route was from New York to Liverpool, England, and from Liverpool to New Orleans. The records show that my great grandfather died at sea and his widow, my great grandmother, brought the ship in to New Orleans. My grandfather, Francis West, was born in Bayville, New York in 1844. He broke family tra- dition and became a farmer. My father, Harry Hegeman West, who was born in Bayville, New York on May 4, 1877, also studied and practiced agriculture. I, Louis P. West, was born in Bayville, New York on May 6, 1913. I spent my early years in Bayville. My father was hired by Miss Sally Hewitt in 1920 to take total responsibility for the manage- ment of the Ringwood Manor estate. I was seven years old when my family moved here from Long Island. I was raised on the Hewitt estate. When I was ten, Miss Sally invited me up to The Manor for lunch. I was pretty nervous but my mother got me slicked up and made me go. It was quite an experience. I had never been served by a butler before. After lunch Miss Sally offered me the job of bringing the mail up to The Manor every day from the Post Office. I was to be paid five dollars a month. That was my first job with the Hewitts. In the next thirty-two years I worked at various jobs for them: ore sampling in the mines, in the supply room, and, after the mines closed in 1931, clerking in the Ringwood store. In 1935 I was promoted to manager of the company store in Hewitt. I managed Ye Old Country Store until I closed the doors, December 31, 1954. My only formal education was at the Ringwood grammar school up by the Cannon mine. There wasn't any baseball team, nor any football, no sports whatsoever. Our schooling the whole day was the three R's. Our teachers were very strict. Any misbehaving and you would get a strapping. I behaved. During my time as manager of Ye Old Country Store I had a number of other duties and was active in community affairs. I was the Assistant Postmaster at Hewitt and also for a short time the Introduction to the Author, Louis P. West, Sr.

Postmaster. I served on both the Ringwood and West Milford Boards of Education. I was a special police officer for the West Milford Police Department and a fireman for the Greenwood Forest Volunteer Fire Company at Hewitt, New Jersey. I was an Erskine Preserve game warden and a State of New Jersey forest fire warden. In my spare time, I repaired clocks and in the summertime I hunted rattle snakes. One Sunday when I was a small boy I was looking through the newspaper to find the funny sheets. And all of a sudden I spotted some pictures that were taken here at Ringwood. This excited me. I cut the pictures out and I saved them. This is how I started a massive collection. From that point on, as a youngster, I saved everything that I could get my hands on. But I liked historical items the best. I collected and collected. People learned that I was collecting and they saved and gave me some items. Miss Sally gave me some. Erskine Hewitt gave me some. And I was given items by others too numerous to mention. I collected and collected. My biggest find was the day I learned that some papers had been discarded up at the garbage dump. What I gathered at the dump that day provided the most important addition to my collection. There were many important documents and letters, many of which I have today. My collection got so large that in 1973 I donated eight thousand items to the State of New Jersey. The state had the material microfilmed and the film, now in the State Archives at Trenton, is fifteen hundred feet long. I have many items on display in the "Lou West Room" at the Ringwood Manor House in Ringwood State Park. I have provided twenty or more libraries, museums and institutions with papers and photos from my collection. From the Ringwood Library as far west as Colorado and Montana. Much of the contents of this book is from my collection. Here is where history is found: In documentary proof and positive facts. And I added my personal experience. POSITIVELY NO FICTION! God bless Ringwood. God bless America.

Louis P. West August, 1994 Chapter 1: A Brief Description of What Ringwood Was Like in the 1920's

l\H roads in Ringwood were dirt roads. They were narrow. They were rather bumpy. They were called "washboard roads". The only macadam road was the old Greenwood Lake Turnpike which is now totally submerged by the Wanaque Reservoir. There were three major estates. The largest was the Hewitt estate, known as Ringwood Manor. The second was the Stetson-Lewis estate, known as "Hilltop Farms" which later became "Skylands." And way back up past Shepherd Pond was the estate of John Dynley Prince. (Shepherd Pond, called by the Indians, "Iawanda" — "Placid Water," was still virgin territory.) These were the major estates in Ringwood. At this time there were two iron ore mines in operation: the Peters Mine and Cannon Mine. The mine superintendent was Jonathon Stephens. He did a marvelous job and he kept things ahumming. The building of the Wanaque Reservoir has just begun and for the next eight years we slowly saw one of the most beautiful valleys in the Ramapos being prepared for the Wanaque Reservoir. Erskine Lake, Cupsaw Lake, Skyline Lake, and Skyline Drive did not exist. It was all forest. There was a small pond known as Tice's Pond. Here is where the Tice brothers lived in the 1770's, Henry, George and Tom. The property was owned by Henry, the oldest. They were woodsmen, logging for cabins and cordwood. They were Whigs. Robert Erskine wrote that Henry was loyal to the cause as he reported to the militia. In the 1920's, there were two log cabins there. And here's where the Apgar logging camp was situated. My wife, May, lived in one of these small cabins when she was a small girl. She would have to walk one and a half miles through the woods to the old Erskine school at Erskine, New Jersey. This whole entire area became known as Erskine Lakes when the Ringwood Company built a dam and renamed Tice's Pond in 1925. Then there was Duffytown. This was quite a long field with a crooked brook running through it. My father would hay this during the summer months. And in the fall he would put the cattle there to graze. This was called "Duffytown" because on the north end of the field was one lone house. This was where the Duffys lived. It was only available by an old wood road from Morris Avenue. At the south end of this field a dam was built. And this became known as "Cupsaw Lake". Chapter 1

From the Valley Road to the East, there was a narrow road about 1/4 mile or so. It ended at the homestead of Mr. Welsh. Across the road was an old red barn — there were several acres of unkept fields growing wild. Mr. Welsh was a mining engineer. Dudley Carleton was a lawyer who lived with Mr. Welsh; Dudley was the first Mayor (1918) of Ringwood, and in later years was the Postmaster. Dudley inherited the property. He always referred to the fields as his "dales." The area became known as Carletondale. In the southern part of the borough there was a large wooded tract with some streams running through. This was owned by the Japanese. And it was during World War II that the property was confiscated by the government. This area is now called, and is, "Skyline Lakes". Over in the Monksville-Stonetown area there were two families who owned large parcels of land. One was the Rickers and the other one was the Vreelands. They owned both some farmland and some woodland. Stonetown was sparsely settled. There were houses here and there. There were a few small farmers — like Anderson's farm, Rhinesmith, Stephens, Pellington, and Colfax. It was a quiet, peaceful valley. This was Stonetown. Stonetown got its name many years ago from a family named "Stone" who used to drive cattle up from Newark to Stonetown and give them the freedom of the Stonetown area for the summer months. Then, in the fall, they were driven back down to Newark. In the north end of the Wanaque Valley were the settlements of Boardville and Erskine. Boardville had a little railroad station on the Greenwood Lake Line. Erskine had a little station on the Ringwood Line. The areas were sparsely settled but the one large owner was Edward Ringwood Hewitt. He owned the "Weewapo Farm," formerly the Wheeler estate. About a quarter of a mile south of Eddy Hewitt was the home of Captain Joseph Board. His home was built in 1774. All these buildings that I have mentioned in the Boardville-Erskine area were confiscated and torn down to make way for the Wanaque Reservoir. What Ringwood did have in the Ringwood area were a lot of mining holes and it was these mines that made Ringwood so famous. There were:

Cannon Mine Bush Mine Keeler Mine Hope Mine Oak Mine Peters Mine St. George Mine Wood Mine Mine Hill (or Hickory Mtn. Mine) Board Mine Monks (or Cooper Mine Schimmerhorn Mine) Miller Mine Hewitt Mine Blue Mine Snyder Mine Indian Mine Paterson Mine Horseheaven Mine Ward Mtn. Mine Spanish Mine Furnace Mine Roomy Mine

God made Ringwood beautiful. Let's keep it that way!

Louis P. West, Sr. August, 1994 Chapter 2: I Closed the Door

LLt was on a Friday, April 9, 1920, when we arrived on the estate. My father had been hired as superintendent of the vast Hewitt estate: Ringwood Manor. I was the youngest of three boys: Roy, Harry and Louis. I will be seven the following month. Three boys could not be given a finer or more beautiful and wonderful youth, freedom on this vast estate. The elegance and beauty of the formal gardens were once described as one of the most beautiful in the East. Our great freedom was to roam and explore 33,000 acres and in the summertime going down on the home farm with approximately 35 horses, 65 head of cattle, oxen, pigs and about 3,000 chickens. We would watch the cows being milked by hand with their heads in a stanchion all in a row. We would visit the dairy and watch them churn and kneed: making butter. We watched the steam delava separators separate the cream from the milk ... no modern devices. The Hewitts wanted to keep the help employed. Occasionally we would go to the Tidabock Farm, (Sheppards Pond — virgin territory) and the Babcock Farm, the Vail Place, Ward Place. We visited and explored the Jenning Place and Dark Hollow where the original forest stood. The trees were enormous. We explored old abandoned mine holes: Hope, Spanish, Keeler, St. George, Hewitt, Snyder, Indian, Horseheaven, Ward, Long Pond Furnace Mine and others. We would visit Peters Mine and Cannon Mine. These mines were operating at this time. Many times we would meet Miss Sally and Miss Nellie. They may be making an inspection tour or just enjoying the drive with two bay horses pulling their elaborate carriage. One time they invited me to have luncheon with them. I accepted. I first attended the little school on the estate, then moved to the school at Cannon Mine. The classes were small, attended by the children of farm workers and miners. When I graduated, there were only three. As does to all youth it seems to pass too quickly and on to the next stage in life. My first job was on the estate. I stayed for a couple of years and then went to Peters Mine to work. A new adventure and experience for me. I was made an assistant to the mineralogist. I had to get a sample of iron ore from everywhere the miners were working. I have seen all seventeen Chapter 2

levels, even the sink 2,900 — 3,000 feet in depth. I also worked in Cannon Mine, 440 feet in depth. I later transferred to the supply house (stock room). Here I would check the mill workers and miners in and out daily. I issued carbide lamps, carbide cans, safety shoes, safety helmets, supplies for the mill and machine shop. I also issued blasting caps and dynamite to the foreman of the shift. In 1929 depression had struck our nation but the mines kept on operating. The Hewitts made a great effort to keep the men employed, and they started to stockpile the concentrated ore, heaped it all over (no market). The mines kept struggling but the government attempted to tax the company for the stockpiles. Thus in June, 1931, the mines Peters and Cannon were closed. This is the last time ever that the Ringwood mines produced iron ore. I then relocated at the Ringwood Company General Store as a clerk. (I later managed this store for one year). One day I was called into the office. I was asked if I would go to Hewitt to manage the Hewitt Store — "Ye Olde Country Store". I accepted. This pleased me as I had collected many articles and documents about Long Pond, Ringwood and Hewitt. I donated 8,000 items to the New Jersey State Parks system (under agreement) which contained some of the Long Pond items. I started managing "YE OLD COUNTRY STORE" in 1935 and was also made Assistant Postmaster of Hewitt, N. J. Depression was still with us, but business was a struggle. Things then grew brighter within a year. Transit trade was growing and mail was getting heavier ... and so were my responsibilities. The Ringwood Company started the Erskine Preserve, a fishing and hunting club of 20,000 acres and also opened up the Wanaque Valley Skeet Field. Headquarters for both were at "Ye Old Country Store". In the meantime I was responsible for Long Pond area, the cord wood logging and rents. It was also my duty to keep people out of Long Pond (poachers, swimming in the mine hole, etc.). Keeping the junkmen OUT. I would often inspect the area. Then I was advised that the immediate site of Long Pond was being donated to the State of New Jersey for preservation. The gift of Long Pond did differ from the Ringwood Manor gift. When Ringwood Manor was donated it was in A-1 condition. The gardens were beautiful, not a blade of grass out of place and the beautiful house of the Hewitts was in its traditional color: white with gray trim. On Mrs. A. S. Hewitt's return from Europe, they had just finished the stucco. From the terri- ble movement in Europe, she immediately ordered the house painted white. There was a little sadness to see Long Pond go but it was overcome knowing that Long Pond would be saved, even knowing that a part of the Wanaque River would be lost to the Erskine Preserve. I turned over to Alex Waldron (Ringwood Manor State Park Superintendent) all the necessary information that he required. We took a tour of the area and I introduced him to the people residing there. When the state took over Long Pond it was in fair condition. Of course some upkeep was necessary. To roughly describe Long Pond: #1 furnace was in poor condition and crumbling. #2 furnace (needed attention) was still standing. The original Long Pond Store was still standing in good shape but needed a new roof. Even the store platform still existed. Across the road Fairbanks I Closed the Door

Morse platform scales in good shape. Pieces of old rusted articles, pieces of old bosh, some runners, wheel tires plus old parts from the furnace when last repaired, small heaps of decayed charcoal. All houses in fair shape and in livable condition, even the iron masters house built for Cunningham, the first Hewitt West Milford Township School. The railroad engine (drivewheel rim), fire alarm and the new upper and lower water wheels (in good shape). These were the last new constructions ever at Long Pond by A. S. Hewitt. These wheels never operated. The only severe deterioration was the down buckets ... these wheels never had a wheel house. Also standing was the large barn (stable and stalls) construction similar to the Long Pond Store, the oxen shed, wagon shed, small blacksmith shop, two corn cribs, couple of old one horse carriages, an old rusty mowing machine plus a few old and rusty farm implements. But now owned by the state, it changed to our sorrow. The charcoal heaps disappeared, it was used to make lawns. Stones from #1 and #2 furnaces disappeared. I have heard they were used to make stone walls, etc. Then the junkmen moved in, so went the rails. Parts from the furnace scrap iron and parts from the waterwheels disappeared. The biggest disaster of all was the burning of the upper and lower waterwheels. By this time the public hopes and pride was severely damaged. More to come: the school house was burned down, total loss. Then one of the oldest buildings burned. Only the outer stone shell remains. This house is believed to be the home of the first on site ironmaster, name unknown. As recent as 1992 another house was fired and gutted. In the 1970's Long Pond was finally recognized as an historic site. Fortunately the site had a great leader for the restoration project in Mr. Dick Riker who possessed great historical knowledge and foresight. Riker was superintendent of the Ringwood State Park. He Helped Mrs. Lillian Carter to organize the Friends of Long Pond Association. Mrs. Carter became president of FOLPA and was very successful in her leadership. The new Monksville Reservoir was under construction. Two outer buildings were condemned. They were saved and moved to the immediate Long Pond Site. Now the program has finally begun. Next the reconstruction of "Ye Olde Country Store": a new roof and 100% exterior renovation. A wonderful job. Yes, we are all proud and the future look is much brighter now.

APPENDIX

TWO NOTED LAND MARKS #1 THE MINE HOLE: A beautiful scenic waterfall in the Wanaque River. To some people it was classified as a pool. This is not so. This was a mine. It was mined in the 1870's. You may notice in the granite, holes in which the eye anchors were placed. The hoisting appa- ratus was attached. It is noted and documented in the Long Pond ledgers acct. # 390. THE LONG POND "FURNACE MINE"

#2 THE NEW WATER WHEELS — THE UPPER AND THE LOWER AND CYLINDERS They were never used.

There is no documented proof that they ever operated as they were never fully connected. (See diagram of their measurements by the Ringwood Company engineers). The survey of 1896 clearly states: "Measurements of the water-wheels and blowing engines in 1896 NEVER SAW OPERATION." There were new studies made in 1906 and 1911. Similar information appears in the Hewitt family attorney's briefs and book. This information coincides with the information Mr. Vernon Royle wrote on the back of his wonderful photo of the wheels: "these wheels never used." Who can deny this important and well documented history? While the new water wheels were being constructed the furnace repairs had begun. The wheels were almost completed when all work was halted. At a later date Mr. Frank Paterson was contacted. He was in charge of the long Pond waterwheels (the wheelman). He tended the wick- ets (sluice gate) and penstock, keeping debris out of the sluice gate known as sticky wicket, greas- ing the wheels and keeping them turning at the proper RPMs. Mr. Paterson was born in the Paterson house, now on Long Pond site. His exact quote: "When in blast both old wheels #1 and #2 worked both day and night. The water ran 3/4' to 4' deep in the raceway. The present wheels were installed after the furnace had been shut Appendix

down — 1883 — and have never been used for power but were kept running to prevent water logging. A new dam was built for these wheels. No information could be given on the size and capacity of the old wheels #1 and #2." End Quote. The following from a great book "THE VANISHING IRON WORKS OF THE RAMAPOS" by my good friend James M. Ransom a letter by A. S. Hewitt dated October 14, 1887. Quote: "We have a furnace at Hewitt Station which could be put in blast if we could get back the cost for the iron which it would make. I am satisfied that it will not be possible in the present condition of the market to make iron sufficiently low in cost to warrant the putting in of the furnace even if the price of coke would not exceed $4.00 a net ton at the furnace. Even at that price it would require a litde investigation as to whether we could put the furnace in blast and it would require two months to get it ready." Unquote. (To finish the stated repairs and connect the cylinders and new wheels) This ends the last and final effort to operate again. It was on December 31, 1954 I received orders to close the country store (approximately 190 years of continuous business operation). At 12:00 Noon, I CLOSED THE DOOR. Hewitt's Long Pond had come to an end. Keep up the good work in restoring Long Pond. I hope one of the waterwheels is rebuilt as a symbol to A. S. Hewitt and P. R. George for their last great effort to keep the iron industry here in the East.

Louis P. West, Sr. July 1992

10 0 > f \% is M 12 Chapter 3: Ringwood's Superstitions, Omens and Beliefs

o"n,e of the oldest superstitions in the Ramapo area is Robert Erskine's ghost. Robert Erskine is buried in the cemetery at Ringwood Manor. On some cloudy and misty nights Erskine's ghost would remove a brick from the tomb and emerge, walk a few feet to the west to the lane carrying a lantern, which gave off a blue light, and a chain. He would then walk slowly to Drink Brook Bridge. Here he would suddenly disappear. In the same cemetery to the extreme north in the Morris plot area is the grave of E L I Z A ESSEX. As you look at the tombstone you would see a hand with the index finger pointing upward toward Heaven. You could see it very well from the lane. If you were walking by and the finger was still, everything was fine, but if the finger moved, you will have serious trouble. If the finger pointed toward you, "YOU were next." I am sorry to write that one Halloween night the gravestone was broken and destroyed. One of the Hewitt's most trusted employees who worked in the Manor House had worked for them all his life. His job was to take care of the furnaces, ashes, etc. and all interior handyman jobs. After the Manor House was closed for the winter, he was to go through the house daily inspecting for a leaky roof, attempted forced entry, broken window panes, a squirrel coming down the chimney or for anything that wasn't normal. It was a gloomy blue Monday morning about 11 o'clock when a knock came at our side door. Mother answered and who was there but the employee who asked to see my father. Mother said that he wasn't in. Just then she looked up and said "Here he comes now down the lane." As soon as Dad arrived, the employee excitedly explained to him that the manor ghost was playing tricks on him: opening doors that he had closed, he then opened one wide and slammed it shut. He said he went downstairs and saw the ghost come through the music room into the hall, then slowly float up the stairs. My father could see that he was excited. He got into the wagon with Dad and went through the Manor House with him. This continued for about three or four weeks before the man attempted to go alone again. HE HAD SEEN THE MANOR GHOST.

13 Ringwood's Superstitions, Omens and Beliefs

In the late 1940's, Mr. Alex Waldron, the superintendent of Ringwood Manor State Park, was interviewed by parapsychologist and author H. Halzer. Mr. Waldron told him of the strange experiences which he had at the Manor House while working late at night. He mentioned he had heard footsteps, several times he had heard doors opening and closing. Sometimes he would close the doors at night only to find them open in the morning. Was the ghost back twenty years later? One object in Ringwood which was feared by many was "Spook Rock", a large boulder with a crevice in it's side. Many said it was here that Black Mag hovered or heard strange noises, heard screeches or saw a face. When the wind was just right it would make a howling sound through the crevice. Some fall nights I would go coon hunting with a local friend. As we approached the rock, it was o. k. My friend had a gun, but after we passed it, he would keep a sharp eye on what was following him. One day they were marking the road. I thought here goes "Spook Rock". So to preserve the legend and the part it played in Ringwood I wrote the following:

SPOOK ROCK Hated winds tram the Beach place Down past Owls Peak By Louis P. West, Sr. From a crevice in my side One could hear a shrill shriek. I am just an old rock They all call me Spook It was believed I was Tricky In Ringwood for Centuries But to me I was right Just west of Mine Brook. I knew it was Fox Fire They thought it was Spook* Light. From the Manor and Forges On the road to Stamp Hill Some people would say I could tell you some stories I would make poor slag Although I stood still. But what hurt me most I was sheltering Black Mag.** In the Ramapos I remember Moonlight or darkness The people roamed free Most any old night They were called Indians I can still hear people running The Lenni Lenapes. Running in fright. I saw Washington, The Erskines I am now most happy And Peter H* My heart is now glad The Coopers and Hewitts The people have learned Making Ringwood great. I am not really bad. The Horses, Oxen and The one thing I knew Mule Teams of Four I always would be Wagons laden with charcoal A more permanent monument to Ringwood hoop poles or wood Than was The Washington Tree. Thousands with Iron Ore. Who ever now passes Although I sat silent I shall always be alone I surely was sad As hard as a Rock For the people of Ringwood And cold as a Stone. Thought I was real bad. * Hasenclever ** Ramapo Mountain Legendary Witch Chapter 3

After I wrote the poem I wanted to get a picture of the rock. One April morning about eleven o'clock, my wife May and I went to photograph it, as there were no leaves out yet. When the prints were developed I was amazed to see a face on them. I have returned several times but couldn't capture it again. It may be possible that you have to be there at the right time of day with the right light and the sun in the right position to create this image? Is this how it all started? "Spook Rock" did play an important part in the legends of Ringwood. Black Mag roamed the Ramapos between Mahwah and Ringwood, always in black, always appeared unexpectedly with mysterious powers and would disappear quickly. Sheppard Pond was always a wonderful place to fish in its natural beauty. It is a natural pond and was in virgin territory. A large boulder protruded out of the pond about 50 feet from the east shore. It is impossible to get there without swimming or using a boat. John, a life long employee of the Hewitts, a little man and a good worker decided to go up to Sheppard Pond and go fishing. He untied the rowboat, got his gear ready and started rowing. All of a sudden a sharp voice said "Hi, Johnny". He looked up and on top of the rock sat Black Mag dry as a bone. "Gimme a chaw of tabaca" she ordered. Johnny said "I ain't got none". Black Mag said "Well, I want a chaw". This frightened Johnny and he started rowing as fast as he could but his rowboat didn't move. Black Mag then told him "You ain't goin' no place till I get a chaw." Johnny got scared and jumped overboard and swam to the shore. He started running. Black Mag whistled twice and a pack of wild dogs started to chase him so he turned and ran back to the pond and swam back to the rowboat. Black Mag said "Johnny, you have been punished enough, now you can go. Your tabaca is wet. But next time I ask ya fer a chaw of tabaca, I want it". Johnny rowed as fast as he could to the south shore, tied the rowboat and never went fishing again. I have heard this skit enough to memorize it when I was a youngster. I feel sure it refers to Black Mag. I was coming home to Ringwood A week today last night Before me stood a lady in black All dressed up in white. She spoke no words She spoke no speech But all she did was talk, So I kept on running Just as fast as I could walk. One place where rats were protected and food brought to them daily was down in Peters Mine. I saw rats scurrying by, here and there, when I worked there. Most men brought a crust of bread or something in their lunch pails to feed them. It was strongly believed and practiced that the rats sensed danger and if the rats went up the

16 Ringwood's Superstitions, Omens and Beliefs

shaft, so went the men. I remember that the miners did move out of a drift in the 15th level for some time as there were no rats. After living in Ringwood for about two years my father was getting well acquainted. One day at the Ringwood General Store he met Dan Root who was foreman of the night shift at Peters Mine. They chatted awhile. Dan invited Dad to come up to the mine some night and he would take him down. Dad accepted and asked if he could bring his wife with him. Dan said "Sure". So up to Peters Mine they went and down into Peters Mine they went. Dan took them to the 14 level as at that time the 14 level was in full swing. He showed and explained to them about the drifts, stopes and the movement of the crude ore to the loading shoot, ready to be hoisted out. This was an adventurous and educational experience for them. It was about ten days or so later when a piece of ore, about the size of a grapefruit, let loose from the ceiling, hitting a miner on the head in the temple area. He was instantly killed. This started uneasiness among the miners. A woman had been down in the mine. Some men came out and refused to back down. In about two weeks all was back to normal. About four years later another woman went down into Peters Mine. This also caused uneasiness but the miners kept on working. About five days later a driller using a jack hammer asked his co-worker, a nipper, to man the jack hammer for a few minutes. He took over. The drill hit a stick of dynamite that did not go off from the previous shift. The nipper was instantly killed, the driller was crippled and blinded for life. The men walked out of the mine. A woman had been down in the mine. The Ringwood Company issued strict orders: NO WOMEN ALLOWED IN THE MINE. It was enforced. Any man who allows a woman to get into the skip to go down into the mine will automatically be fired. OMEN OR SUPERSTITION??? One day while working at Ye Old Country Store, a customer came in from Millertown section of Ringwood. We were talking when he swore. I mentioned to him that "you will never get to Heaven that way". His reply "I ain't goin' anyway". I asked him "Why?" He said that he had sold himself to the devil. Being curious, I questioned him and he finally told me. You go into the woods alone, on an old wood road, pick up an old dry broken branch with a fork on it. Break it so its in the shape of a Y. Then walk up the old wood road until you come to a fork in the road. Hold up the stick and break off the left fork. Throw it over your left shoulder: then walk up the left road and vow aloud: "I sell myself to the Devil". A strong superstition in Ringwood was never to hit anyone with a broom. One day while working at the Ringwood General Store a lady ordered a broom. When I handed it to her over the counter I accidently hit her with it. "That's bad luck. Take it back. I don't want it" she said. So I did. I later found out the bad luck was that her man would get in trouble and go to jail. Another superstition was never have two (2) kerosene lamps on one table. Bad luck and dou- ble trouble.

17 Chapter 3

Never grow a fern in your home. If there may be a death in the family all mirrors must be turned toward the wall and never display any pictures of the deceased for nine days. When anyone entered a building, they must leave the same way (door) in which they came.

Louis P. West, Sr. November 1992

18 Chapter 4: Ringwood's Greatest Social Event

1 remember folks telling me about the Hewitt wedding which took place on November 15, 1886. My memories of these descriptions are as if it happened yesterday. I have many notes of this great event. They told me about the special train which arrived at 12:00 noon, and the shrill whisde which caused drivers of horse drawn vehicles which were gathered at the station to look down the track. A brighdy decorated engine drawing six (6) cars came diundering up to the platform From them alighted 190 invited guests from the city. It was the day that Miss Amy Bowman Hewitt was to marry Dr. James Olive Green. Amy was the daughter of the then mayor elect Abram S. Hewitt. Mr. Green was the son of Dr. Norvin S. Green, a founder and executive of I. B. M. The wedding took place in Ringwood at the Hewitt residence. The great parlor in the manor house where the ceremony was performed was elegantly decorated. The waxed floor was covered in the center with a huge Turkish rug and on the walls hung large pieces of quaint and ancient tapestry. These represented country scenes and knights and dames of the age of chivalry. The floral decorations were massive. In the great bay windows were flowers and vines. The pillars were ivy clad and the sides were sprinkled with La France and neofetus roses. The base of the walls were fringed with rhododendron. There were pots of chrysanthemum and the mantel on the opposite side was trimmed with laurel and pendants from which huge bunches of American Beauty and La France roses hung. The sideboard, filled with china and silver, was covered with chrysanthemums. All the floral decorations in the room were brought together by festoons of pink silk ribbons into the handsome room where the guests assembled to witness the ceremony. Broad white ribbons divided them making an aisle through which the bridal party passed to the bay window. Here the Rev. Dr. Peters of St. Michael's Church waited to unite the happy couple in marriage. Dr. Peters, an old friend of the family, had baptized the bride when she was a child. The sound of the wedding march filled the house and every face turned toward the doorway as the bridal party descended the stairs. They entered the room led by the ushers, Mr. Peter Cooper Hewitt and Mr. Edward Hewitt, brothers of the bride. Other ushers were Mr. F. Gray Griswold, Mr. Center Hitchcock, Mr. Charles Peters and Mr. Gristwald Lorillard. The brides- maids who preceded the bride were her sisters, Miss Sarah Cooper Hewitt and Miss Eleanor G. Hewitt. Little Claire and Leila Bryce were the flower girls.

19 Ringwood's Greatest Social Event

Then came the bride, leaning on her father's arm. She was tall, slim and brunette with dark soft eyes. Her gown was heavy white satin brocade in moire stripes. Flowers fell in the full round train. The front was draped in point lace and pearls and the pointed bodice was cut square at the neck filled with lace and held by an exquisite diamond star. This was the gift from the bride's sisters. She wore a long veil of dotted tulle edged with point lace and adorned with natural orange blossoms and diamond pins. She carried a bouquet of cape jasmine and narcissus, held by wide white satin ribbon. Her jewels consisted of a diamond necklace, a gift from her parents, and dia- monds and pearls from the groom. At the bay window stood the bridegroom, attended by his best man, Mr. Allen Thorndyke Rice. Following the ceremony, Dr. and Mrs. Green received the congratulations of their friends and relatives. On the center table in the library lay an artistically illuminated marriage certificate which read as follows:

THIS IS TO CERTIFY THAT ON THE 15TH DAY OF NOVEMBER IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD ONE THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIX JAMES OLIVE GREEN OF KENTUCKY AND AMY BOWMAN HEWITT OF RINGWOOD, NEW JERSEY, WERE UNITED IN HOLY MATRIMONY.

The wedding of Miss Amy Bowman Hewitt and James Oliver Green in the fall of 1886 was without a doubt "the" social event of that time. Many names on the guest list were already recognizable from the society pages while others became prominent in businesses. Many were residents of New York and prestigious Tuxedo Park. Among the notables were Mr. and Mrs. Norvin Green, parents of the groom: John Jay, the ex- mayor of New York City; the former Chief Justice Daly: Mrs. Peter Cooper, the Misses Cook, Mr. Arthur Leary and Mr. Herbert R. Bishop. Also, Mr. and Mrs. William Kent (Atwater Kent radio), Mr. and Mrs. Pierre Lorillard, Jr. (tobacco industry), Mr. and Mrs. F. S. Rieves, Mr. and Mrs. Whitelaw Reid, Mr. and Mrs. Morris Jessup, and Mr. and Mrs. Kearney Warren, kin of Earl Warren. The food industry was well represented by Mr. and Mrs. William Rather Duncan (Duncan Hines), Mr. and Mrs. Jordan Mott and Mr. and Mrs. Del Monte. Other guests were Col. and Mrs. DeLanery Kean, of the distinguished New Jersey family, and Mrs. Oliver Belmont of the noted Long Island horse breeders. Also, Mr. and Mrs. C. D. D. Islin, Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Carey, Mr. and Mrs. Creighton Webb, Mr. and Mrs. J. F. D. Lanier, Mr. and Mrs. Paul Dana, Mr. and Mrs. Newton Newcombe, Mrs. Henry Potter and the Misses Potter, Mrs. Amy Townsend, a Mrs. Crum from England and Mr. G. W Smalley. Following the ceremony the guests were seated at small tables and served luncheon by PINARD (who we assume was a caterer). Appetites were sparked by the long train ride from New York City. It was a crisp fall day and after the delicious meal, many enjoyed a leisurely walk to Mr.

21 Chapter 4

Hewitt's model farm and the hennery. The guests were entertained by the famous Landers orchestra. They would not forget the joyous celebration. While the band was playing selections from the MIKADO, several guests unconsciously began to hum along ... their own vocal rendition which became— "TO THE MAYOR - IN - LAW' (instead of mother-in-law). And a good time was had by all!! LOUIS P. WEST, SR. 1993

22 Chapter 5: Saving Miss Sally's Life

-Lt was late summer and the hay crops were in. Tom Van Dunk, a life long Hewitt employee, was trimming around the fields with his scythe and stick. He was mowing around the field where the march on Yorktown originated. It borders Sally's Pond. The Hewitts had guests for the weekend. Tom heard them earlier in the day playing music. Miss Sally played the piano and Miss Nellie played the viola. It was about 2:00 P. M. when Tom saw Miss Sally and three guests get into a small boat and go out on Sally's Pond. Suddenly he heard a scream. He looked up and saw the boat had upset and all were floundering in the water. Tom jumped into the pond and swam out. He helped them all to get hold of the boat. He then maneuvered the boat toward the shore. Finally, when close enough they got footing and walked out of the pond. All were exhausted and frightened. Tom went with them to the manor house. Miss Sally thanked him. Tom went and picked up his scythe and stick and took it back to the farm and went home. That evening when supper was just about over, Miss Sally told her father what had happened and how Tom had jumped in and helped them. Miss Sally said "Tom should be rewarded for his bravery." Mr. Hewitt replied "I shall issue orders tomorrow morning for free rent and retire Tom with full salary for the rest of his life." To this Miss Sally added "and any goods sold at the general store free to him." Of course Tom was overjoyed, and the first thing he did was to go to the store and "buy" sixteen (16) pounds of tobacco. When asked why he bought so much tobacco, he replied: "He has been known to change his mind."

23 24 Chapter 6: Miss Sally & The Hinge

LJown on the home farm there was a large pile of cord wood which was used to fire the boiler. Steam power operated the drill press, grindstones, corn crusher, threshing machine, churn, milk separators and used for sterilizing. On an inspection tour Miss Sally noticed an old rusty barn door hinge on the ground by the cord wood She said "Harry, have that hinge picked up and put it away as we may have use for it in the future and we won't need to buy a new one." My father forgot all about it. Three weeks later Mr. Ted Tresize stopped at the farm to talk with Dad. Dad looked up and said "Oh! Oh! Here comes Sally and Nellie. Watch, she will ask me about that old hinge." Up they drove in their elaborate carriage, drawn by a team of bay horses with their manes braided and bob tails. They were two 'high steppers' (as we might describe them at a horse show today). "Whoa! Whoa!" they called and stopped. "Harry, I thought I told you to have that hinge picked up and put away." My father, being hard of hearing used it as an excuse as he cupped his ear with his hand and said "What's that? Oh ... the new team. They are working very well together. But best of all, they are not wind shy." "Damn it! Giddap!" exclaimed Miss Sally.

By Louts P. West, Sr. September 1993

25 26 Chapter 7: Papa's Trains and Sally

Vve read many interesting stories about Abram S. Hewitt building the Montclair Greenwood Lake Railroad. But seldom mentioned is that his products, the Ores from Ringwood and the Iron from Long Pond Furnace were used to help equip the Line. Entries in the Long Pond Ledger January 31, 1868:

ROGERS LOCOMOTIVE AND MACHINE SHOP To be sent at once: 20 tons of pig iron # 1 @ $44 10 tons of pig iron white @ $42 to be delivered in Paterson at this price.

DANFORTH AND COOKE COMPANY 10 TONS # 1 PIG IRON @ $44 10 TONS # 3 PIG IRON @ $44 To be sent about the first of February, 1868 and delivered in Paterson at the above prices.

So the ores from Ringwood and metal made at Long Pond would some day revisit Ringwood in the form of a locomotive. The Montclair Greenwood Lake Railroad Company purchased the following used locomotives: • In 1871 two 4-4-0 locomotives built by Danforth and Cooke Company of Paterson, N. J. They were named Ryerson and Orange. • In 1874 two 4-4-0 locomotives built by Rogers Locomotive Company of Paterson, N. J. and named Greenwood Lake and Bloomfield. • In 1879 two 4-4-0 locomotives built by Rogers Locomotive and Company, Paterson, N. J. and named Ringwood and Hasenclever.

27 Chapter 7

• Finally, two 4-4-0 locomotives built by Rogers and named Lewellyn and Eagle Rock. These engines were used for both passenger and freight service. My old Montdair Greenwood Lake timetable dated 1877, the oldest known to exist, shows: Avington, now Sterling Forest, then Lake Side (in southerly direction), Strathmore, Cooper, Hewitt, Ringwood Junction, Midvale. Down by the Ringwood General Store and Post Office there were two buildings. One was a wheelwright shop. Here is where ore wagons and all the farm wagons, cord wood, hay and box (interchangeable) bodies were built, also the bob sleds, snow plows and stone boats. They even used wooden jacks, all work by hand, no modern machinery. Along side of the wheelwright shop was the blacksmith shop. On iron rods across the upper beams hung hundreds of different size horseshoes ready to be used; around the side walls were kegs of different size horseshoe nails, kegs of corks and spike corks and rivets, different size wagon wheel tires, a hand cranked drill press. They had two fires, two anvils and two temper bar- rels, one sand box. Here is where the then famous Sally Iron fence was made in the 1880's. It was more or less a common sight to see Miss Sally on top of a heap of fence sections being loaded on a railroad car to be shipped out. She would be wearing ankle length black split skirt, high button shoes, heavy leather cuff gloves and a man's fedora hat, giving orders every minute. This kept the men busy. Even when I lived on the estate they had approximately five miles of Sally Fence around the manor roads and fields. One day in late November my brother Harry and I were pelting stones out on Sally's pond. As it was skimmed with a thin layer of ice, some stones would go through and some wouldn't. We looked up and there was Miss Sally and Miss Nellie coming up the lane in their horse drawn carriage. Being scared, we ran and climbed over Sally's fence. This was a crime. We were severely scolded. She reported us to my father. When Ringwood was still a part of Pompton Township, school elections were a problem as the voting place was at Midvale, N. J. Mr. John Dynley Prince, a very highly respected and educated citizen, (he wrote the song "On the Road to Mandalay" and at one time was acting governor of N. J., also an ambassador to Sweden and Czechoslovakia) decided to run for a seat on the Board of Education. Miss Sally went to see John and told him she was going to run against him. As the Hewitts furnished and supplied the Ringwood School and the Hewitts' taxes were the largest in the township, she wanted to know just where the money was going. Ringwood had but two trains a day: one 6 A. M. and the other at 5:30 P. M. The trains backed in. Come election day at 10:00 A. M. a passenger train backed into Ringwood and blew its whistle. It blew, blew and blew. This startled the people. Many came hurriedly to see what the trouble was. What they found was Miss Sally waving her hands and shouting "Get aboard the train, get a free ride to Midvale and vote for me. I will buy your lunch and we will bring you back by one o'clock". Arriving at Midvale this influx caused long lines at the polls. You can guess who won. Miss Sally was the first woman to be elected to public office in New Jersey.

28 Papa's Trains and Sally

On one occasion Miss Sally and Miss Nellie were going to come up from New York to Ringwood by train. They telegraphed P. R. George to have their coachman Michael Whelan meet them at the Sterlington Station (main line of the Erie Railroad) with their Brewster surrey, also a wagon to carry the luggage. All is well as Sally and Nellie boarded the train, everything fine. The train was making very good time as it had missed some stations. It stopped at Ridgewood. Come Suffern — no stop, thru Ramapo Sally and Nellie prepared to get off as the next stop is Sterlington. She spotted Michael on his perch seat and the luggage wagon waiting. BUT THE TRAIN SPED RIGHT BY FULL SPEED. You could hear Sally yell above the clatter of the train and the engines whistle "Where's the conductor, where's the conductor?" while running through the aisle. She finally found him, by that time they were in Sloatsburg. She told him what happened and demanded to be let off at Sterlington. The conductor's reply "Madam, this is the Oswego Express." He immediately realized he had a problem. He recognized the Hewitt girls as their father held blocks of stock and had great influence in the Erie Railroad and his political power. The conductor ordered the train to stop at Tuxedo. He went into the station and telegraphed Port Jervis, Middletown and Jersey City for emergency road blocks to be used. He awaited con- firmation. When received, he had the train back all the way to Sterlington Station. Where they detrained Sally Hewitt had stopped all traffic on the main line of the Erie Railroad. In 1937 Frank Ferrell retired after fifty years service as engineer on the Erie Railroad. His run was the Greenwood Lake-Jersey City run passenger service. He was awarded Erie's highest honor to an engineer to have his name placed on the cab of a locomotive.

FRANK M. FERRELL For his immaculate care of his engine.

He often stated that Miss Sally was the most irritable passenger, always complaining and reporting that the engineer stopped too abruptly, jerked the train or blew the whistle too much. Miss Sally was a brilliant and courageous woman — she wanted everybody to know — she was the BOSS. I remember my mother often saying "Miss Nellie made the cannon balls and Miss Sally fired them".

Louis P. West, Sr. September, 1992

29 SALLYS FENCE

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31 32 Chapter 8: Stones of the Ringwood Mine Area

Airoun, d the turn of the century, there was not much activity except mine work. Mine every day. There was no bank, no barroom, no barbershop, no movie and no jail. There was but one constable. There was no place for the miners to spend their money. As they would accumulate small nest eggs the men would become a little uneasy, so gambling became a way of enjoyment. There were quite a few fellows who got together and they would go maybe one day a week to different areas to play cards. Generally they liked to go out in the woods where they knew there was a big flat rock. They would congregate there and play cards. They bet heavy. Maybe next week they would meet at the old shed up back of the mine, or another area where there was a lean-to. They would shift and go to different places each week. They did not go to people's homes. They stayed away from that. There was a lot of gambling in that sense. They were orderly. Naturally they did not want to be exposed. One day while working at the mill they had a problem. The bucket elevator broke down. They didn't need all the men while the elevator was being repaired so they released as many men as they could for the day. So a few men went over to the little shed where some of the men sometimes would eat their lunch. There was a table, a couple of old boxes, and a chair or two in there. I don't know whether there were five or six, but they started to play poker. Where they were playing, they were out of sight, and everything was going fine. About two in the afternoon the door opened and a fellow who seemed to waddle came in. He walked kind of funny. He was a stranger. So this alarmed the men to a certain extent, but he told them not to worry, to keep on playing, that he had just come from the office. He had been hired and would be coming to work the following day. And this more or less satisfied the men. He then asked, "May I sit in and play cards with you? I'd love to play." So they allowed him in the game and a few hands were played. Then the stranger said, "My feet hurt me. I'm going to take off my shoes. Any objections?" They said, "No, go ahead." They kept on playing. So, about two hands later one of the fellows was dealing a little fast and one of the cards went over the edge of the table and it went on the floor. When the player who sat next to where the card fell bent over to pick up the card he was astounded to what he saw. The man's feet were

33 Chapter 8

cloven! He had hooves! The game went on. It finally broke up. And as the game ended the man put his shoes on and waddled out and walked down the old railroad track to the mines. The man was never seen again. Nobody knows who he was, where he came from, or where he went.

The First Outdoor Movies

The entrance to Peters Mine Road was known as the White Gate. There was a white gate there but it was never used. It was always open. Immediately after you went through the white gate turning sharp to your left was the road to Millertown. The road curved around Jonathon Stephens' house. He was the Superintendent of the Ringwood Mines — the Cannon and Peters Mine. The road continued on over the railroad track and up toward Millertown coming to the foot of Jacob's Hill (Polish pronunciation: Yockup Hill). On the right side was Gergorski's house. Across the road was a level spot. Here is where the Cooper Hewitt Company built a large platform. It was on piers about two feet high and was approximately forty feet by sixty feet. This was the first move towards any kind of recreation facility in Ringwood. It was quite successful for a short time. It was used mostly by the Polish people. When they would have their christenings and their marriages they would hold celebrations there. They would have some merry times when a wedding took place. And, of course, at different times they would hold their dances — their polka dances, etc. Of course, this was not only pleasing to Polish people, but a lot of people went and enjoyed watching them. So it really was the first break-through. This went on for quite a while. Then, as we all know, the movies began to be introduced to our country. They were very scarce. The Hewitts built a wall on the north side of the platform. They painted it white, creating a screen. They purchased a movie projector. A table was built for it. And they were ready to start showing the movies. (Remember it was all outdoors. There was no roof.) The movie projector was one of the first ones that was ever built in my estimation. The film was fed into the projector. The projector was hand cranked If you wanted it to go faster you cranked faster; if you wanted it slower, you slowed up. There was no electricity. For the illumination it had an acetylene arc lamp which gave off a brilliant white light. This was the way the first movie started. There were no chairs, or seats. People sat either on the floor or on the edge of this large platform. There is a possibility that this may have been the first outdoor theater in the United States. If not, it surely was one of the first ones.

34 Stories of the Ringwood Mine Area

Indoor Movies

Right in the center of the Peters Mine complex there was a quite large two-story building. The building had no foundation and you walked into the first floor at ground level. The north end of the first floor was the machine shop. Here they had all the overhead pulleys. The lathes, the grindstones, the planers, the drill presses — all the machines worked from leather belts from the pulleys. The machine shop was where the small repairs were made. On the south end was the mine blacksmith shop. It was a little bit different from the ordinary blacksmith shop. It was definitely for mining equipment such as sharpening picks, pikes, the spurs. The main thing was they had a drill sharpener there. It was operated by compressed air. They would bring the dull drills up from the mines to be resharpened. They would heat the drills cherry red in the fire and then the compressed air driven sharpener would hammer the star points and sharpen the bits. This was a daily operation. They worked about seven hours a day just keeping the drills sharp. That was the ground floor. The second floor was a carpenter shop. The entrance to the carpenter shop was by a ramp about eight feet wide. The equipment in the carpenter shop — saws, planers, etc. — could all be moved. All the machinery was on casters. The floor was a beautiful hardwood oak floor. The saw- dust kept it clean and it wasn't scarred. So here became another point for recreation. In the 1920's they began to hold dances here. They would move the planes and saws and different types of equipment to the sides of the building and hire a band from Tuxedo — Bill Dixon's "The Cornhuskers" — and there was many a good time with regular dances, square dances, etc. The people began to enjoy the opportunity to get out and meet with one another and dance. When they would have these dances, most generally, not every time, there was a more or less mysterious person who came — a young lady, in her early twenties, I would assume. She could dance beautifully. And she would dance four or five dances and she would leave. Every time she came there were always different people with her. She wore a purplish colored, rhinestone gown. It was a long gown, ankle length. As she danced she was a very graceful, beautiful dancer. Among the local people suspicion arose, I guess, and she was nicknamed "The Swamp Angel" as nobody knew who she was or where she came from. It was believed that she was the girl who became known in the Ramapo Valley as "The Girl In The Lavender Dress." Up in the carpenter shop they built a huge box. It was eight feet by eight feet by eight. A big cube. They built a door into it. It was put on casters so it could be moved easily. This was to become and did become, the projection room. They purchased a movie projector. It was electrical as they had electricity at the mines. It was direct current known as D. C. So now progress is being made. They purchased a large screen and this was put in the north end of this building. They would move the machinery to the side walls. They had sections of folding chairs, eight seats to a section, and these chairs would fold for storage. So they would unfold the chairs, move them out on the floor, and prepare for the movies. There was never an aisle. They ran right across. The projectionist was Herman Chelman. He was the electrical engineer at the mines and he was in charge of the movies. As we know they were silent movies and a man by the name of Walter Chapter 8

Judge played the piano all the while the film was showing. As there was but one projector, after each reel was shown there would be an intermission while the reel was being changed. One evening an incident took place while the movie was in progress. My father had a man who worked for him by the name of James Defreese —Jimmy. He had come to the movies. And the movie was in progress. Jimmy sat four or five seats in from the end. There were people on both sides of him. To set the scene of the incident, it's apparent that the movie camera was set between the rails of a railroad track to photograph an oncoming train. The train kept coming and coming, getting closer, closer and closer. It got just so close Jimmy grabbed his hat, jumped over the first two people, upset the next two, and exited very fast. Right out the door. This caused a little com- motion for a while. But the show went on. The next day Jimmy received a lot of kidding. And when he was questioned as to why he had done it, he said: "Well, you don't think I was going to set there, do you, and let that train run over me?" Jimmy didn't live this down in a day. He was kidded for quite a while. After the show is over, they fold up the chairs, they move the projection room over to one corner, and in the morning the carpenter shop is ready to go to work. The movies were not held on a regular basis. They tried to hold them on Saturday nights but they only had them when they had the opportunity to get a movie or the reels to show. So that's the way it was during the 1920's.

36 Chapter 9: "Here is the Mail, Mom"

L/et's go to the barn and hitch up Old Dan to the buckboard. Then we will go down to the Ringwood store and post office. The mail will be coming in on the 5:30 P. M. train. We will leave early as I want to show you around. First I want to tell you about Old Dan. He is about eight years old, brown three quarter horse from the Cayuse strain. He is very temperamental and some times mean. When his ears go down he is telling you he will bite and bite he will! He is most faithful, always ready to go, rain, sleet or hot weather. He is my father's favorite. So let's go. Dan is hitched. Climb aboard. "Giddap, Dan." Away we go. First we cross Gills Brook, pass the magazine lot, then the bridge over Drink Brook. On the left we pass the pre-revolutionary grave yard where Robert Erskine is buried. We continue on and cross over the main road to the mines and enter Sally's private lane. A large sign reads:

HORSE AND CARRIAGE OR BICYCLES ONLY Sarah Cooper Hewitt

As we near the end of the lane, on the left is the house where Edward R. Hewitt lived when he first got married. It was from the roof of this building that Eddie jumped off in a contraption he called an airplane. (He was competing with the Wright brothers.) He landed in the orchard in an apple tree. Results: a broken arm. On the right we see the end of the railroad tracks that Mr. A. S. Hewitt had extended about one quarter of a mile so the guests attending Miss Amy's wedding in 1886 would be beyond the noise and dust caused by the loading of the iron ore at the Ringwood Store site. We pass the recreation building and we arrive at the Ringwood store and post office. Let's tie Old Dan to the hitching rail which is in this shape I with 40 feet on the east side and 60 feet on the south side. A lot of horses can be tied here. As we cross the plaza to the west, you can see three coal bins (pea, chestnut and stove), the wheelwright shop, the blacksmith shop, a very large ice house and the railroad tracks. To the

37 Chapter 9

south is a large platform (Fairbanks Morse) scale, a well and the small Episcopal Church. To the east is the Phillip R. George house. To the north is the core of Ringwood: the Ringwood Company Store, office and the post office. Also, Ringwood Manor Railroad Station, the end of the line. It is complicated. Shingles on the right wing of the Ringwood Company (1920's) offices read as follows:

RINGWOOD COMPANY HEWITT FURNACE RINGWOOD MINES PEQUEST LAND COMPANY SOHO LAND AND PARK COMPANY AWOSTING REALTY

The center, the largest area of the whole building, contained the Ringwood Company General Store. It is impossible for me to detail the operations. Yes, they handled meats, vegetables, clothing, shoes, boots, hardware, yard goods (bolts of material), drugs, tobacco, ice cream, penny candy, wood, coal, ice, gasoline and kerosene. All over the counter transactions. Meat and vegetables were delivered on Fridays. Our pea beans, lima beans, split peas, rice, peanuts and sugar came in 100 pound bags and had to be weighted out. Vinegar and molasses comes in hogsheads, 63 gallons per barrel. Bring your own container. Salt pork, 200 pounds per barrel and is known here as Ringwood TURKEY. Salt pork could only be hooked out of the barrel, cut and sold over the counter by a man. A female was not allowed to handle salt pork and must stay away from the barrel to avoid spoilage. One item that was in great demand was Edgerton's Snuff. It was always purchased by a woman. It was always ordered on the sly. They would order only from a clerk who knew they used snuff, and when ordered, they would ask for "donkey dust". Easter was the biggest holiday season. Hot cross buns, eggs and hams. Less than 200 dozen hot cross buns would be unusual on Good Friday. Hams, whole or half. Eggs, 30 dozen to a case, they would sell as many as ten or so cases. Newspapers and yeast came in daily via the 5:30 P. M. train. Yes, it was a company store. All company employees could buy and charge what they wanted. However, it would be deducted from their pay envelopes as was their rent. Of course some would over spend and create a debit. They would then be put on a daily ration. When the great depression hit in the 1930's, rent dropped to a penny a month. Yes, I have issued receipts for twelve cents, one years rent in full. Now let's go over to the left wing, the Ringwood Manor Post Office. To me this was the most unusual post office in the United States. This was a public building but no one was allowed in the post office unless you rented a lock box. Rental was 25 cents for three months. There were only fourteen lock boxes. Ours was #7, dial code A- U-. All public transactions had to be made through the front window to the outside. If a person wanted stamps or to see if they had any mail, they tapped on the window. Postmaster Oliver H. Roome would open the window and wait on them, winter, summer, rain or shine. Inside the post office proper, it was not very neat or tidy. On the wall hung a large calendar

40 "Here is the Mail, Mom"

nearby, last year's calendar. On the west end was a large combination safe with most anything piled on it. On the other wall were charts of postal rates, last year's postal rates and this year's postal rates, charts for freight rates. Erie Railroad time tables, American express rates, Western Union notices and more. On the east wall hung a beautiful large wall clock with its pendulum gen- tly swinging. This was the Erie Railroad station clock. It had to be perfectly timed for railroad use. On the partition between the lobby and the office were hundreds of pigeon holes, mostly all crammed full of old notes, papers, etc., turning yellow with age and collecting dust, the teller's window, the stamp drawer and a till drawer. On the counter were some baggage slips, telegram blanks and envelopes. But most important was the telegraph equipment, the telegraph sounder and the KEY, constantly sounding out D.O.T.S and D-A-S-H-E-S. From the ceiling hung a 100 Watt bulb light with a green shade. In the post office lobby there were fourteen lock boxes, the teller's window and mail slot, a 500 pound platform scale, a few empty mail bags laying in the corner. On the walls were posters of fugitives wanted, bank robbers, train robbers, kidnappers and murderers. They didn't take many of the old ones down. They just kept putting them out, sometimes one over the other. There were notices all over the place, but who got to see them?

OLIVER H. ROOME

He was a middle aged man, short heavy set, full face, rosy cheeks. He must have shaved in the early morning as he most always appeared to need a shave. Bald headed, he always wore a straw hat, winter and summer, hard collar and collar button. A tie was unusual. A very jolly, jovial person, he was very excitable. Oliver was the

TELEGRAPHER RINGWOOD MANOR POST MASTER POOR MASTER POUND MASTER RINGWOOD MANOR STATION AGENT AMERICAN EXPRESS AGENT and THE JUDGE

He may have had another job on the side. I don't know. Oliver was almost always chewing tobacco. When he had an excess of saliva he would open the window and let it go. Sometimes he would forget to open the window and then you could really hear Oliver all over the place. Oliver was brought here from Idaho. A. S. Hewitt learned of his expertise sending and receiving telegrams. He was an expert. All the communications of orders, iron ore and shipments depended on Oliver's accuracy. He never failed. From 4:00 until 5:30 P. M. the store was always very, very busy as the people shop and wait for the train to come in. It's time for the train to come in and now the people are leaving the store and starting to congregate near the post office window. Here comes the train. It always backs in. Hear the whistle? It's an air whistle blown by the

41 Chapter 9

head conductor as he stands on the rear platform of the train. There is always another conductor, in case of an accident he would have a witness. The train comes to a halt. Two men emerge from the baggage car. Very briskly the first man, who wears a Sam Browne belt, scans the people while walking, he has a drawn revolver. The second man also wears a Sam Browne belt. He has his hand on his revolver. He carries a leather bag with a lock on it. They walk through the post office lobby, through the store and enter the Ringwood Company office. The money has arrived. After it is signed for they return to the train. This signifies pay day and you can be sure that every employee receiving money will get a $2 bill in his pay envelope. So let's go into the post office and see if there is any mail in our lock box. There is! Hear Oliver sputtering as he sorts the mail but he is alert to the DOT. DOT. and DASHES, listening for his code. The mail is sorted. Listen to Oliver. He opens the window and the people gather closer. He calls out the names of those to whom the letters are addressed. He passes them out, one by one. "You live next door to John Doe? Here, take this to him and make sure he gets it!" Oliver then says "That's all!" He closes the plate iron window shutters and locks them. He then locks the window. The day is over. All the people disperse, slowly walking and carrying their purchases, groceries and mail toward their homes. Oliver will be back tonight at 7:00 P. M. to hold court in the post office lobby. He has a case. A Stonetown man is charged with clothespole chicken theft and Oliver will be seated as

JUDGE OLIVER H. ROOME

Now let's untie Old Dan and we will go home. Arriving home, I'll unharness Dan, put him in his stable and give him his oats. The chore is done. "Good night, Dan. I am going home." As I open the door, Mom is waiting. "Hi, Mom, Is supper almost ready? Good. Here is the mail, Mom."

I managed the store for one year in the 1940's. From 1923 through 1928 I carried the Hewitt mail and their servants mail. My salary was $5.00 per month.

Louis P. West, Sr. May 1993

42 "Here is the Mail, Mom"

ies (miners and farm hands) waiting the mail call: Anderson Gyurik Padusnak

Ballard Jenkins Petak Bishop Jones Poncheri Bouski Judge Roach Caywood Kapichak Root Conklin Kosloski Scruggs

Corter Lewis Sereta DeFreese Luba Sonnie DeGroat Lucas Stevens DeGraw Lyon Thompson Droughton Mann Usinowicz Drummonds McGrady Van Dunk Fletcher Melay Van Tassel

Harty Mellon Walker Honas Melinoff Whitehead Gannon Micklick Whitmore Gergoski Milligan Yonic

Gibbons Morgan And of course..West

L. P. West, Sr. "Here is the Mail, Mom

43 ^-»

-4 46 Chapter 10: Where is George?

JLn the nineteen twenties when I was a small boy, in the summertime I used to like to take my bicycle and ride down to the Home Farm. I'd always like to go toward the late afternoon when you could see the horses and the teamsters bringing the horses in after the day's work and ready- ing them to be put in their stalls, etc. In the meantime while I was waiting there was an elderly gentleman who was about sixty years old. His name was Harrison Van Dunk. He was in charge of the horse stables and he would have the stables all ready for the horses. And of course he would sit and talk to me waiting for the horses. He would reminisce about old Ringwood. He well remembered Peter Cooper, Abram S. Hewitt and Philip R. George. And he told me a lot of little stories about this that and the other. But one day he told me a story that while it wasn't of much interest to me at the time, in later years it became very interesting. He told me of a large funeral that took place here at Ringwood and as a child this didn't interest me too much. But time goes on. In later years I amassed a large collection. And one day while I was going through my collection I ran across some papers which brought back the many words that Harrison Van Dunk told me. It was a very large funeral. It was the funeral of Philip R. George. Mr. George was the right-hand man for both Peter Cooper and Abram S. Hewitt. And I have always stated and still maintain that Abram S. Hewitt would never have become the great iron master he was if it hadn't been for the skill and great leadership of Philip George. Right from the beginning Peter Cooper sent Philip George to Ringwood to survey the iron deposits, etc, as it was for sale. P. R. George came to Ringwood and he surveyed the whole area. And he went back to New York and he reported that the iron ore tract in the Ringwood area of the Ramapo Mountains were the largest deposits of iron ore that he had ever witnessed in his life: the many openings of the different mines (some just barely started to begin); the richness of the iron ore; and the quality of the iron ore. And it was on these standards that Peter Cooper purchased Ringwood on what P. R. George had told him existed here in the Ramapo Mountains. Peter Cooper then formed a company. He put his son, Edward Cooper, and his son-in-law, Abram S. Hewitt, in charge of the company known as Cooper-Hewitt Company. And he immediately put Philip R. George as his agent, superintendent, or whatever title you want to give. He took full charge of all mining activity. He was also in full charge of the Long Pond iron furnaces

47 Chapter 10

and the Charlottesburg furnace. At this time the Boardville forges were operating. He was in full charge of that. With his cleverness the industry was growing. He went on to take full charge of the Durham furnace in Pennsylvania, the Pequest furnace and the mines in Chester, New Jersey, the Pitney mines and other openings there. At the same time the Civil War was in sight. He was very, very successful in keeping everything going. And also, Mrs. Hewitt kept him busy. The ruins and rubble of the old Ringwood furnace adjacent to the Manor were being discarded and being made into a part of the estate. The creating of the gardens interested The Hewitts, especially Miss Nellie. And the rebuilding of the Manor House from the out buildings which were moved in and added on to the original Ryerson quarters which became known as Ringwood Manor as we see it today. In 1858 Mr. Hewitt ordered P. R. George to build a school, the first school built in Ringwood. Then they built the store which became known as the Ringwood Company Store and Office. This was a gothic-type building, a beautiful old building which has now been destroyed. Mr. Hewitt then told Mr. George that he was going to Europe and to start building a home for himself. He chose the location to build the house near the Ringwood Company Store, just east of the Ringwood Offices. And here in 1865, he had constructed a beautiful large Victorian type home, with a slate roof and all the interior trimmed — the window frames, the stair cases — with mahogany. The stair steps had tile risers. Now the Ringwood Town Hall, it was a beautiful home. The building of this home caused the only known disagreement between A. S. Hewitt and Mr. George as Mr. Hewitt thought that P. R. George had over expended himself. In the 1870's (72, 73), P. R. George was in full charge of rebuilding the Hewitt furnace — the Long Pond Furnace. They modernized for the new process of smelting iron ore. He did a marvelous job. And we must remember, at this time he had possibly twelve to fifteen mines in operation, three, four or five furnaces going at all times. He had the ice business on Greenwood Lake where they harvested ice each winter and shipped it to Bloomfield, Nutley, Montclair and New York City during the summer months. And also a new business had come to light. It was the hoop pole business (Before barrel staves were held in place by iron hoops, wooden poles were used to make the hoops.) Hundreds of thousands of hoop poles were cut annually and they were shipped to New York almost daily. As well as cord wood which was shipped to Montclair, Bloomfield, Nutley, and other Jersey cities and towns during the fall and winter months. Mr. George's last major project in 1885-86 was the building of two new water wheels known as the upper and lower wheels at the Long Pond furnace. These wheels were twenty-five feet in diameter and approximately eight feet wide. Two air cylinders were mounted to each wheel but the connecting rods were never connected to them. The iron industry and market had fallen sharply and all work was halted. Mr. George ordered the wheel master Frank Paterson, to run the wheels idling so that they would not become water logged due to the fact that the wheel house had not yet been constructed. And I'm sorry to say that these wheels never operated Long Pond furnace. Long Pond furnace never worked again. These wheels slowly went into deterioration. In my collection I have many letters of 1870 to 1880 — 85 from A. S. Hewitt to P. R. George giving him orders, requesting that things should be done and asking what his opinions were. One that was very interesting to me was a letter asking Mr. George to go up to the Lake Champlain

48 Where is George?

area as iron ore deposits had been discovered up there. He was to go up there, look the situation over, survey it, and arrive at an opinion. And "if you think it warrants purchasing property do not hesitate. Use my money. Purchase as many acres that you think you need. I advise you to purchase the property and have it put in your name. This will curb speculation." Letters like this show the great confidence that Mr. Hewitt had in George. And while going through these papers is where I ran across the papers describing the great funeral of Mr. George. I found the bills where A. S. Hewitt had ordered a silk-lined mahogany casket. All hardware was solid brass. Two eider feather silk pillows. Six pairs of black silk gloves for the pall bearers. And from a Paterson firm, he had shipped up by train, four hundred chairs to be put out on the lawn in front of the P. R. George house for the funeral services. This awed me, I became very curious wondering where Mr. George was buried. So I covered West Milford — I knew he wasn't in Ringwood, Wanaque, Pompton, Pompton Plains, Butler — to no avail. No trace of P. R. George. I then contacted Richards Funeral Home in Riverdale, New Jersey. I told Mr. Carl Richards of this situation and my anxiety to find out where Mr. George was buried and asked if they had handled the funeral. A week or so later he reported back to me. He said, yes, Richards Funeral Home did handle the funeral. But there was one thing very odd about it: that no hearse was hired. There's no record of a hearse. This was my first clue. P. R. George was shipped out by train. It was only a few hundred feet from his home to the railroad station. From here we started looking in Morristown, Chester, Boonton but we could find no trace of him. So I met my dear friend, William (Bill) Trusewicz and I told him of the situation. He said, "We'll find him. We'll keep ahunting." So we went to Chester. We went to the different cemeteries, here, there, all over. We couldn't find it. So Bill Trusewicz wrote to Trenton. Within a week or ten days we received a reply — a copy of his death certificate; "Mr. P. R. George, age sixty — eight, seven months and twenty-nine days, passed away at Ringwood Manor on October the twenty-first in 1888, and was buried in Boonton, New Jersey." At last we found out where Mr. George's body was taken. So with this new information, William Trusewicz and I went over to the Boonton cemeteries. And we searched and we searched and we searched. We did not find the stone. We went to the other cemetery. Which is also a large cemetery. We searched and searched and searched. By late afternoon, about three-quarters of the way up on the left side, Bill spotted some headstones with the name "George" on it. But nothing of P. R. George. And we hunted and we hunted and we hunted. But we could not find P. R. George. So, a little discouraged we left and we stopped into the town hall. And Bill was very fortunate. The first person he spoke to was the man who was in charge of the cemeteries. He had every report there was. He said he would look it up and send us a reply within a few days. We were very pleased with this information. So, a few days later we got his reply with a map of the graveyard — a sketch showing the George plot. But it's amazing and we were startled to learn that there is no record, there was no burial in the P. R. George plot. During his lifetime P. R. George was highly respected in the mining world. Mr. Martin Deeks has brought me the remarkable biography-eulogy reprinted on the pages following. It was published in the mining Journal shortly after Mr. George's death. As a great mining engineer, one of the best, a great leader of people and the labor force, and most of all, a pioneer in America's iron

49 Chapter 10

industry bringing forth new methods, etc. is P. R. George going to be classified as a forgotten ironmaster? That is why I write: "Where is George?" Louis P. West July 1994

50 Where is George?

Nov. 10, 1888. THE ENGINEERING AND MINING JOURNAL. 889

PHILIP R. GEORGE, The death of Mr. Pliilip It. George, nt Ringwood, N. J., on Sunday, October 81st, terminated a characteristic mid creditable career, of which I offer tlio present sketch, not only as n tribute of personal esteem nnd friendship, Imt iilso a9 an appropriate reoofjnition, hi a Journal idc-nliflc with tlio mining Indiielry, of one of tho representative milling captninaof Uio United Stales. Mr. George— " Undo Philip "—was a Cornish miner of the bent typo. Belter thun thnt, hia long life in Ihe American atmosplicrc had ndded lo nntivo industry, shrewdness, elcill and good nnluro, tho versatility nml olnsllc energy, llio inspiration of hopnful enterprise mid the miinnhin of success, which seem to bo peculiarly tho products of our national conditions. Duo to blood those elements nro not ; for they affect meu of nil rnceB. when lhov become Americans. "Whether they result from liberty, or the tnrlff, or tho climate, we will lot tho doctors of law and

Louis P. West

Collection

(-•:.-'.

medicine decide. Ono thing is certain: n man of talent and virtue is not obliged to spend his life hero in simply holding his own. Ifo ndvnnccs. The country ie "growing up," and ho enjoys tho exhilarating sense of " growing up with the country." No better instance could bo adduced of tho fruitful development of inborn force of character by such influences than the life iust ended nt Itingwood. Philip It. Georgo camo of an old family, the records of which run back to the middle of the fourteenth century. Ho wnn one of twelve children ; yet, when he died, ho left no immediate relatives living in Corn- wall or in any pnrt of England. All tho members of his brauch of tho family either died before- him, or immigrated to this country. The six elder children were girls ; of the six boys. Pliilip, tlie second, was born In Pariah Illogcn. Cornwall, on tho 22d of l'cbnniry. 1820. Four of tho twolvo survive hjm. John, William, and Richard Ueorgo, well-known mining contains in New Jersey, and a sister, residing in the same State. Tlie father, Richard George, was employed in mines from boyhood, and, for many yearsbeforo his death in 1812, as captain at Carnbroy. Philip attended school until bo wiip twelve years old, when he brgan > big enruer in Uio old-fashioned way—nt Hie. hdltom—llrst »s a runner of i errumlH and doer do with il) it was for a long time ciiHtoinary, when the men wenfllowii tlicsliaftto tlicir work below, to fasten him,with iirnpoaround his waist, tosomo Etronger aud older man, lest lio should slip through tho ladders, or otherwise como to hurm. At thfi ago of cightccu he had attained tlio dignity of full wages, and could aftord to discard the rope. Chapter 10

Two years later, ha came to ilili country, after tho fashion of our uiORt valuable immigrants, namely, not ne a mere unit in n vimt. wholesale importation, but as an cutcrprisiog ami Bolf-reJiniit seeker of fortune in tlio new world, and drawn hither ly Iho personal reports ot liifi own people. Ynnra beforo he was born, an undo of his hail come to (ho United States, had served UR a soldier in the war of 1612, and had not been heard of afterwards, until old Richard George, not willing to heliove his lirolhor dead, lit hut. in 1810, succeeded in obtaining IIOWH of him. In thovcry ship Hint brought (.he tidings ciirai tlio wnndorer himself, to rovisit his nativo place nflor moro than n quarter of a century of abeemx'. Tliat a Rcvermico from homo and friemls, RO IHIIK nml so complete, is not now nn common as it used to bo, Is ono of tlio Blriking results which tlio railroad, the telegraph and cheap poetugo iiavo wrought during the present generation. i!ut men of foreign birth who have dwelt horc until they have become Americanized, aro seldom contontcil with tlio old country when they return lo it, even though it may hiivo hecu their dream to Rpe"«l their declining years whero tliey spent their youth. This Cornish- Amcrican was uo exception lo the general rule; and his discontent fired tlio ambition of young Philip, who, with two sisterB and a brothor-in- law, accompanied their uncle in his almost immediate return to the laud of his adoption. Thoy landed in New York late in 1840; and, after only a week of rest and sight-seeing, Philip went to work in the White Meadow iron mines at Rocltaway, N. J. The next year ho took on contract the Hrotherton mino ; the year following, lie took charge of tho mines at Iromlale for Messrs. DickcrEon and Post, Ihon owners of tho Stanhope blast-furnace. For the saino parties ho subsequently superintended thellurdtown mino. But dining all thin timo lit! coutinuod to turn to good account his knowledge of mining and his quick, shrowd observation by operations on his own account in leased properties or in contracts. Thcso undertakings were usuallyof short duration, aud covered the extraction and delivery of afuw hundred tons of ore from eac"h mine. They furnished to Mr. George a peculiarly varied and thorough training in the direction in which lie wos already both gifted and experienced—namely, the power of estima- ting.upon inspection of a mine, its probablo capacity of production anil cost of operation. In this ho had no superior. Ho was tho best " judge of an iron mine " in New Jersey, niid knew Ihe naliuo and history of nearly overy RIICII deposit opeued in tho State. And he wan a vigilant, just, 'sympathetic and elliciont manager of workmen. Mr. George caajo into business relations with tho (Inn of Cooper & Ilewitt through hia engage-incut as malinger of tho once celebrated Au- Louis P West dover mine. Peter Cooper look an active interest in tho development of! Collection this mine, mid on ouo occasion wns so much pleased with the improve-1 ments introduced by tho now manager that, as they shook hands in eny-' Ing good-bye, ho pressed a live-dollar gold piece into Mr. George's palm— to tint gr£flt nmnsi.'mcnt of the latter, WIIOHC improvements had Raved to, his empIoyciH us ninny thousands. ]lo kept thn coin ag a poukot-pieco for years aud was never weary of repenting tho ntory. lii I8!U, Mi-ssrs. Cooper & Ilowitt having purcliaBcd Iho historic Ring- '• wood tract, Mr, George removed to that place ami assumed charge of • tlio properly (sonic 20,1)00 acres in extent), which he mauiigcd to the day ! of his death with conspicuous skill and fidelity' The changes made by him at Andover, Kingwoodnnd elsewhere, in tho; mining practice of the time, were simple but by no means insignificant, lie is reported to have been the first to abolish tho old "sun to sun" rule as to tlio working hours of tho miners. Under that rule, as ho found it: in operation, tho men began work at fi A.M., ami worked until (I P.M.,. with a short interval at 7 for breakfast, and an hour at noon for dinner.: Mr. George at once put an end to tho work before breakfast, and lixed ten hours as tho day's work of maximum cflicieucy. lam inclined to believe that lie never favored further reductiou, except for such cou- tinuous nnd exhausting labor aa obviously calls for nliifls of eight hours,' or eveu less. A man who would not work at ordinary tasks ten hours a day wnR, in his judgment, simply lazy ; nnd what ho preached on tliis head ho practiced. Another improvement iDtraduced by him was tho use of largo drills, deep holes nnd heavier charges of blusting-powdcr. Aided by skill and good judgment in the location of drill-holes, according to the nature, tensiou, cleavage and position of tho working-faco, this method secured the highest clliciency iu extraction possihlo to Iho old drills and ex- plosives. Such novelties as power-drills and dynamito ho adopted later, aflor witnessing their cllccts in actual use. No Kciioua c-iumiilly ever occurred in a mino under hit) charge. During his forty years' career as a inino-inanagcr, only livo liyea were lost in consequence of accidents in the mines, and in nono of these cases could the cuieo bo attributed to neglect, ignorauco or inislako on bis pnrt. His temper was not easily ruflled ; but nothing rouaed him to nngci niore quickly than omission or delay to put in tho necessary timber to support u weak or threatening place in a hauging-wall. Tie would stop everything at the first suspicion of danger, until safety had been assured. His long expeiience in the handling of men and his readiness at mechanical expedients led to his conducting many enterprises besides the niuuagement of tho HiDgwood mines and foreBts. Of the hitter, let me remark, in passing, that a dozec years ago, in my capacity as tlio consulting ongineer ot the owDers, I made au inspection of tho wood- lands of this tract, accompanied by a thoroughly educated professional expert, formerly an ollicial of the l'rutisiun forestry department. His verdict was, that Mr. George's treatrueut of tho different parcels of forest-growth in all stages, was skilful and wiso. The only cnticiem he Where is George?

offered was, that, nc-cordiug lo Ills oUl-woi Id notions, it was not Bafe to have eo ninuy details of nn extetmivo administration rallied in 0110man's head—a comment which ia now sadly conllrmcd. Fov lMr. (loorge. Ilko oilier boiu managers, educated in lifo rather ttimi schoula, could not analyze mid record, for llio iiietruotion of others, tlio pioccsscs of IIIB owuintud, its memoricH or its purposes. Consequently, lie leaves no successor who cnu cover llio whole iinld of his admiuiHlratioii. Among Iho incidental hiliore in wliicl) lie engaged wns the construction of tho Riiigwood branch of tho Greenwood Ltilco Railroad, llio main lino of Iho name ronri from Uowill's Station to the Stale line, Ihe railroad from Wnterloo to Andover, nnd vni ioua lirsmcli roads on tlio Ring-, wooil tract. Olio of tho lnltor, a mine railroud tlirci: IIIIICB long, ho built without any assistance, nven from a surveyor, lining his own judgment as lo roulo and grade, nnd "making u good job of It." Tlio Improvement and constructions connected with tlio ice business nt Greenwood Lalco were also directed by him, as were tlio various building operations ro- ciulred on the Ringwood property, in connection with niiues, trosllcs, dwellings, water-power, blast-furnaces, etc. This multifarious activity reflected ilnelf in his subordinates. A largo proportion of them, lmviii|; worked with nnd for him many yciim, woi'n ablo, lilcu him, lo turn llicir IIIIIUIH to all HOIIH of trades or problems In rough engineering. It wafl almosta proverb in Ihn region ion ml about, that " those Kingwood men could do liny Ihing;" and more than onco Mr. George sent u gang of them lo put through ROUIII iiiidorluldug in which | tlio offorlfl of ordinary laborers had failed. 1 remember a recent occimion 'of this kind ; a.rd almoHt tlio last time I KIW him, he spoke with prido of tlio superior readiness and efficiency of his " Riiigwood boya." His relations to his employers were those of :i friend HH well as a sub- ordinate. This was especially truo of Mr. Hewitt and hie family, who, residing at ltingwood for a great part of each year, were brought into constant contact with its superintendent, and regarded liim with an affccilon which be fully returned. In bis death they havo lout, not merely n skillful and. lnmty biiRlncss agout, but a beloved momhor of their own household, associated In their memories with all its experiences and affairs. I must not fail to acknowledge the courtesy and cordiality of Mr. Gcorge'B treatment of young engineers. Ho was conlldcut in IIIH own judgment, as ho had good reason to he; and he lilted lo remember and relate llio instances in which he )md proved right, while some other maD, perhaps a graduate, proved wrong—in which particular wo all resemble him. but he hail reupcct for knowledge and education, and a hearty Binpathy for young ambition and endeavor; and bis own abundant stole of experience was always at tho Rcrvico of those who had the wit to know, and the modesty to confess, its value. If ho had enjoyed in Louis p. West 4 youth that thorough scientific training, tho lack of which bo Collection did 'BO much by both study and pracliro in lalcr yearR to supply, 1)0 would have been a great engineer, though it in likely that" ho would still have preferred to do things, and let others explain nnd record them. Tim wisdom of nuch men must bo gathered from their own lipn by respectful listeners, no thfy sit in tho cool stopes and linger I lie clny-eonilk'ttick and talk whiln they rent—or before the flro o' winler iii-ihls when work in over. Or, itniuRt hogaitiod by simple observation of their piompt, phrowd vru-ya in action. At all events, it will not be tmuul in uaohn. Happy ihe yoniiR mining engineer (1 epeak wilh gratclul pcmiiuil remeMibriiucMif " Uncln J'lillip") who onn reinforce lii» llietuien and formiihiR mill nnnlynefl nnd diaw- iogs with tho pithy imisiins anil wise Judgments oT RIIUII rugged, liindty old practitioners. They are, within ilieii Hphcie, the line experts; for llio term in its elymolcigy BiguilicH onn who baa gono tbrougli a thing and couio out with pracllcnl micccnH. They nro ihn men who havii "l«;en thero"; aud, no matter how good a map the traveler may liavo. it IH worth his while, bufore entering upon the actual jouracy, to hear what they havo lo tiny. Apart from his piofossiomil and businesn ability', the force nnd upright- ness of Mr. George's character commanded general confidence. Ho settled many disputes, and involved himself in lew. llo was an assidu- ous student of the Bible, nnd a member of the Kpiscopal church, the services of which were regularly held near his residenco at Hingwood. In politices, ho was a Democrat, but ho concerned himself less about national issues tbau about llio honest nil ministration of locnl affairs, without reference lo party lines. Residing in a Republican township and district, he thus exorcised no little inlluenco in determining the nomina- tions of the domiuaul party. And hifl neighbor treated him in the Bamo spirit; for Iwico wlicn.outof party loyalty, he ran as the Democratic can- diilalo for the State Assembly, they cordially defeated him, and moro than twico lio wan elected lo a much moro important posilioo, ns a member of tho Board of Freeholders of Pnssaic County. A few weeks ago, a morning newspaper of this city published, as an attack upon Mayor Hewitt, a ulanderoiiB account of alleged wiongH and oppressions in the treatment of tocmnlu nnd workmen at Riiigwood. This falsehood really bore ralher upon Mr. (ieorgo than upon his employer. Wo nro glad to nolo that, u day

53 Chapter 10

Mr. George was married in 1840, aixl hia wlfo and four children Hurvivo him: throe Bons, Sampson W., mining superintendent at Chester, Kdward C. in charge of the Charlottcbiugh mine, ntid Samuel M.,.his father's assistant at Ringwood, and one daughter, tho wife of Mr. J. I,. Cunningham, al60 connected largely with mining operations. His thrco surviving brothers, Richard, John ana William, and eomo of tholr sons, are also engaged in mining, tho hereditary occupation of tho family. Tho funeral, which took place at Ringwood on Thursday, October 25th, and waB attended by a large concourse, including many persons from New York and from Paterson and other points in New Jersey, WIIS an impres- sive testimony of the truth of what I bnvo written) concerning his repu- tation and influence. Tho assemblage included it dolepalion from several lodges of Freo Masons, and the funeral train was snliserjuently received by u similar delegation at Boontou, whore the interment wus performed with. Masonic ceroinonies, Fortunately I am ablo to accompany this sketch with n portrait of " Uncle Philip "ns I know and shall always remember him. The quaint, rugged, humorous, strong face; the bushy brows, from under wliich glanced keen and kindly oyes; the patriarchal bonrd, that grandchildren were not afraid to pull; and the bowed but sturdy frame (wliich (his portrait does not show)— these go to make up on outward personality which has often Beemed to me, as It accompanied mo through faniilinr subterranean ways, like the presenco of a wiso and friendly gnomo. But I knew that there dwelt within it more than that; for it inclosed and expressed a loyal, honest, manly BOUI. It. W, RAYMOND.

54 56 Chapter 11: The Beginning of the End

The Great Hewitt Estate

J_t was March, 1925. One day my father went to the post office down by the Ringwood general store. The postmaster was Oliver H. Roome. He was also the telegrapher. Just then a telegram came in for my father from Miss Sally. It read: "COME TO 9 LEXINGTON AVE. WEDNESDAY AT 10:00 A.M. SARAH COOPER HEWITT". Come Wednesday, Dad took the only train out at 6:00 A. M. At 10:00 A. M. he met with Miss Sally. He heard something he didn't want to hear. "Harry, Miss Nellie is gone and now I feel compelled to cut back on the estate. I want to keep the men employed as long as I can so I am going to cut back on the farm. Do not raise any more cattle, breed no more horses. Among the horses we now have are Charlie, Peary, Louie, Nip, Tuck and the Costa Mare. I want you to give them a free summer, the best pasture and the best of care. In the fall I want them destroyed, unbeknownst to me." This stunned my father. My father argued vigorously with Miss Sally all summer. She would not sell them for fear they might be abused. She would not give them away fearing some one could be injured. He felt that keeping the horses would not entail that much expense and it would be a crime to destroy them. My father finally lost. He had a mass grave dug in the TAN lot. He hired one of the teamsters, John F. Milligan, with his 32-20 Remington rifle as he was a crackshot. On October 25, 1925, each horse was led (single file) to their grave. One by one, first was Charlie, then Louie, Peary and the Costa Mare. John saved Nip and Tuck for last as this was his team which he drove for the last eight years. This is one day I saw my father cry. The Hewitt home farm cattle were very large cattle. The entire herd was approximately 65 head including the bulls and the oxen. They were called Brown Swiss but they really were not. They were not brown, but had mouse color markings. To briefly describe them, they were Simmethal cattle. They originated in the valley of Simme, Switzerland. Even though the cattle were large, they were not heavy producers of milk. However, their milk was very rich.

57 The Beginning of the End

On the south end of the farm were two bull pens, each with a stall and an exercise run. They were strongly reinforced as the bulls were large and ferocious. When the bull was out in the exercise run, an eight hundred pound door was lowered to keep the bull "out" while his stall was being cleaned. Miss Sally ordered my father to sell the two bulls because they were ferocious and could be dangerous. He sold them to an abattoir in Litde Falls. When they came and saw the size they realized they were too big to handle. The largest weighted 3,300 pounds and the smaller one 3,100 pounds so they shot them as they stood in their stalls. They were loaded on a truck by block and tackle. One ox, Major II, was given to the Central Park Zoo in New York City. Miss Sally was pleased it was going there as she knew many people didn't know what an ox was. Then came Major and Ned, a prize team of oxen raised by my father. Major weighted 2,925 pounds. Ned weighted 2,795 pounds. They were the largest working team of oxen in the country at that time. They were given to Henry Ford with the proviso that Elmer Van Dunk, their driver, go with them to care for the oxen and drive them. On the death of the oxen, Elmer was guaranteed a life time job. Elmer stayed three days and returned to the Ramapos. The oxen were shipped in a special padded railroad horse car to Dearborn, Michigan with the probability of being transferred to the Wayside Inn in Massachusetts. Miss Sally telegraphed my father to come to Lexington Avenue and to prepare to stay awhile as it would be a lengthy meeting. Miss Sally told him that she was making arrangements to make a large gift to Henry Fords Edison Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. She had offered it to the City of New York Museum but was declined because it was too large to handle and space was not available. Miss Sally then told Dad to assemble all the Carriages and sleighs at the Manor Barn and some from the home farm, which consisted of eighteen relic carriages and fifteen relic sleighs and many other horse related items. My father had everything readied. Four railroad box cars were brought into Ringwood, passed the Ringwood general store and post office. Three men from Dearborn arrived to supervise the loading of these relic carriages and sleighs. Slowly they were brought down one by one, dismantled and packed into the freight cars. One item given was the Brougham carriage (a four in hand coach) built by Brewster for Abram S. Hewitt in 1891. It displayed a coat of arms, three owls on a shield. It was inscribed in Latin: TAM NOCTE QUAN DIE SAPIRE meaning "to know so by night as by day". (You may note that in the Manor House the gas lamps and andirons display owls.) This carriage was used by many notables, including King Edward and Queen Victoria of England. It was also used several times by Theodore Roosevelt. He used it in Washington, D. C. on his inauguration day. He rode from the capital to the White House in this beautiful carriage. The last time it was used was in 1923 for Miss Eleanor Margret Green at A. S. Hewitt's grand- daughter's wedding to Prince Viggo of Denmark. Michael Whelan was the coachman. Another beautiful carriage, a Brewster Landau, was the easiest riding carriage of all. There was one wagon which Peter Cooper shipped to Washington, D. C. for Abraham Lincoln to use while he was president. Another unusual wagon was a one team wagonette. There were surreys and buckboards, a one

59 Chapter 11

seated English style buggy and more. Some were bought by Abram S. Hewitt during the Civil War period and costing as much as $1500. Some carriages were built on the estate in the wheelwright shop down by the Ringwood general store. These wagons were prized by the Hewitts. Included in the collection was a two wheel pony cart and a two high wheel chaise carriage (for pleasure). One sleigh, circa 1752: and Abraham Lincoln's sleigh, a one seater. Others with large bow runners, two single team bob sleds and other kinds. There were harnesses galore: sets of team work harness with hames, sets of single work harness with collars, sets of team dress harness. Also, there were two sets of team dress harness (buggy type) with nickel plated snaps and buckles. There was one set of Indian harness (hand made) rope harness (hemp) no buckles and all hand spliced. All the saddles were English type, four side saddles. All types of bits and checks, bar and curb bits. Many types of wagon lamps and lanterns (kerosene). Also dozens of horse blankets, wool, padded canvas, etc. There were training leg weights and dozens of different types of blinders. Two sets had shields with owls on them. Two sets of head dress plumes which were used on King Edward's and Queen Victoria's visit. Sleigh bells and more sleigh bells galore. Mostly harness type but some were sleigh bell type. These were much larger and were mounted directly on the sleigh. Whips, assorted types of the finest quality, 3' to 6' long. A sight to see when they were all lined up. Some were entirely of woven horse hair. Some had snake skin handles, eel skin handles, engraved and studded handles and the crop whips, a whip with its short handle and loop. Different types of horsefly string netting. Some cord and some gut. All of the horse anchors of different weights All of the horse grooming items such as the brushes and currycombs, etc. When all the items mentioned were put together, there were four railroad box cars FULL. One of the Ford officials asked my father if he could give an explanation why Miss Sally was making this enormous gift. He replied: "I have no explanation. She no longer occupies the Manor House. I don't think she will ever come back".

Louis P. West, Sr. January 1993

62 Chapter 12: Sally vs. Harry

AL,t the time my father was hired by Miss Sally and Miss Nellie, they were in Miss Sally's office at 9 Lexington Avenue in New York City. Many things were discussed and there were many ver- bal agreements. Of course his salary was one of die first things discussed. But above his salary he would receive family hospitalization (the Hewitts' bed in the Tuxedo, N. Y. hospital), free rent, coal, wood, ice, kerosene, the chickens for family use, eggs, butter, milk, cream, and any and all vegetables that were grown in the garden during the season. Also freedom to use the horses and wagons at any time he wished. Of course, these things, in addition to his salary, were a great asset to my father. She also definitely stressed die things that he could not expect nor could he have: he could not have an automobile, she would not have a telephone installed, and there would be no electricity. These were strict and sharp orders. From what I understand they shook hands, there was agreement, and my father was hired. This was in the month of March in 1920. My father had worked a number of years as superintendent of the Winslow S. Pierce estate in the litde town of Bayville, New York on the north shore of Long Island. It was right on the Long Island Sound waterfront. Mister Pierce had notified my father that in June he was going to close down the estate. He was only going to keep one house maid and his chauffeur, and he was moving out of the manor house. He told my father, if he could find employment, he advised him to take it. This prompted my father to start looking around. He went to New York City, to Stump and Walters, die great seed company of that era who sold seeds not by die packet but by die pound and hundred pounds to die large farms and to the growers throughout die country. My father, while he was there, asked them if they knew of any user of large quantities of seeds who may be looking for help. My father had a degree as he went to Friends Academy in Locust Valley, N. Y. He majored in agriculture and animal husbandry and was looking for a job in the fields he loved so much. The boss at Stump and Walters said; "Harry, I understand that Sally Hewitt up at 9 Lexington Avenue is looking for someone to take over the estate for her. Why don't you go up and see her?" That is how my father learned of the fact that Sally Hewitt was looking for help. After the meeting with Miss Sally my fadier went to see Mr. Winslow S. Pierce and told him that he was leaving his employment as of April the first. My father stayed home and they hired a van and diey started packing. And on April the eighth in 1920 my father reported on the Hewitt Estate and took charge.

63 Sally vs. Harry

The following day, April the ninth, the moving van left our home in Bayville. My oldest brother, Roy, came with the van and brought our little pet dog, a little black and tan named "Mickey." Around nine o'clock that morning my mother took my brother, Harry, and I over to Oyster Bay Long Island, New York to catch the train to come to Ringwood. It seemed like such a long railroad trip to us as youngsters. I do not know what time it was, but I assume it was around one o'clock in the afternoon when we arrived at the Sloatsburg, New York railroad station on the main line of the Erie. When we arrived and the luggage was taken off, waiting for transportation, my mother took one good look around and she looked at us boys and she said, "I feel just like taking the next train back!" Just then a 1918 Cadillac pulled up. And out of it Mr. Mose Taylor, who also operated the Taylor's Inn in Sloatsburg, New York, introduced himself and told my mother that Miss Sally Hewitt had hired him to transport us from Sloatsburg over to Ringwood. Unbeknownst to us at that time, and as we look back, one of the agreements with Miss Sally was "no automobiles on the estate." But yet she hired one. He put die luggage aboard and we got in the car. It was a great thrill for my bother, Harry, and me, in that era, to be riding in a 1918 Cadillac. Wow! As we began to approach the Ramapo Hills in the Ringwood area, while we were in New York State the roads were narrow but they were macadam, hard roads until we met the New Jersey State line and also the border of Ringwood. Here we went on a dirt, narrow road. Two automobiles could pass — with caution. We moved on past "Mill Pond" on the old dirt road which was called a "washboard" road. It was very bumpy. And then we approached the main entrance to "The Manor and Forges" — Ringwood Manor. We turned through the big stone pillars. We had now entered the estate. We crossed the Ringwood River on a very narrow, one passenger vehicle-wide iron bridge that had been made on the estate. We continue on up through the formal gardens, turn left through the two giant piers, go around the foot of reservoir hill, and, at last, we arrive at our new home. Right at this moment the moving van arrives and for the next few days everything is in a turmoil. The following Monday my father and mother took Harry and I up to enter us in the school. It was a little two-room school house. It was built in 1858 and was far from the standards of the school we had come from. There weren't too many pupils there — the farm hands and the miners' children. There was no running water. No electricity. Outside toilets. For drinking water there was a pail. They'd go over to the next house where there was a water pump and they'd bring a pail of water over and it was set on a low shelf with a dipper in it. We all used the same clipper. There was a big pot belly stove. Yes, in the cold weather it kept you warm, but most generally you were burning up in the front and the chills running up your spine. But that's how it was. As children, at this point, my brother and I was a little bit bewildered and we couldn't understand the big change. But our greatest joy and adventure was to roam around. We had never seen a forest before, and, as funny as it may sound, we never saw rocks and boulders — the big stones. We never saw mountains. We never saw hills covered with trees. We never saw a brook. These things didn't exist on the part of Long Island where we had lived. We never saw wild deer, bull- frogs, toads, or snakes. Yes, we were learning. Yes, we learned to love Ringwood. My father took hold of his job and was doing very well. Miss Sally was pleased with him. But

65 Chapter 12

his big problem was Miss Sally! She was always giving orders. This was also a new adventure for my father in many instances. Compared to the farms and the estates he had worked on before, this one seemed to be so much different with things that didn't exist on Long Island. Such as, all the machinery on the home farm — the creamery, the separators, the churns, the drill presses, the threshing machines, the grindstones — all the machinery were powered by a steam engine. They had a steamboiler. This was new to my father — to keep the wood coming in, to have the men out in the forest chopping wood, bringing cord wood in — to keep the boilers going. And another thing that he had never had any experience in was harvesting ice. We would watch them with a plow gauge being pulled by horses. There was no modern machinery. With this they would mark the ice field into blocks, a hole was made, and the work began. Wherever these marks were, the men would saw the ice by hand. This took a lot of time. My father had four ice houses to fill during the winter months — one up on the Green estate, one on the Hewitt estate, one at the Home Farm, and the ice house down at P. R George's house. My father kept busy and things were going very well. But things were not going so well with my mother. After being there two years or better, things began to be monotonous for her. My father was busy all the time, and the only way she could get out was for him to take her by horse and wagon. And where could she go and what could she do. By this time she had the house in spic-and-span shape. She had all new drapes, she had new curtains, made bed-spreads, and as far as getting the home in order the work was done. My mother was a dressmaker. She made clothing for a number of years. She was known as a meticulous dressmaker. When we lived out on Long Island she had sewn for Mrs. Grade Pierce and Mrs. Pierce. She sewed for Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt. She sewed for Allison Longworth, her daughter. And for Teddy Roosevelt, he always had a problem with his shirt collar. My mother would alter President Roosevelt's shirts and make the neck larger. She sewed for a number of other people on Long Island and here she is at Ringwood and she cannot get out. She cannot really do much of anything now that she was more or less marooned here at our new home. So she began to get irritable. And things grew worse. My father was caught in the middle. She told my father — matter of fact, she gave him an ultimatum — She wanted an automobile! And if she didn't get an automobile, she was going to take the two boys and she was going back to Long Island! She couldn't stand being there alone every day, seven days a week! Of course, this alarmed my father. He knew that the agreement had been made. And he also knew that my mother meant what she said! One morning my father got up early and he took the six o'clock train out and he went to Long Island. He had an uncle of mine — my mother's brother — pick out an automobile for him. He picked out a 1924 two-door Ford sedan. To me, as I look back, it was kind of a top-heavy vehicle. But it was an automobile. He had Uncle Frank drive it from Long Island and he brought it home. He opened the gates to the field in front of our house and he said, "Bess, there it is. Learn to drive it." My father contacted a man who worked up at Ringwood mines, who knew how to drive, and he would come down and give my mother lessons. My mother was anxious to get going. She learned very quickly. Pretty soon she was driving the car around the estate 'cause you didn't need a license — there were a few miles you could drive. Then she went to Paterson. She applied, and

66 Sally vs. Hairy she got her license. Things began to look much brighter for my mother and home life was much better for my father. Things had calmed down. But there was still a dark cloud to come. Miss Sally and Nellie were in Europe at this time. Whether she had heard about it, or whether she hadn't, we never knew. They were returning on the Mauretania. (It was the only ship they would use. It belonged to the Cunard Line and the Hewitt family knew the Cunards.) The ship had hardly passed the Ambrose Light when Miss Sally sent a telegram to my father requesting him to come to New York the following day. When my father received the telegram he brought it home. It was at the supper table he took it out and showed it to my mother. He said, "Here it is, Bess. Tomorrow is it." The next morning at six o'clock my father went down to New York. And he met with Miss Sally. She was all smiles. She greeted him. She brought out some knick-knacks for us children from Europe. She gave him a little present, sent a little present for my mother. She wanted to know about the estate and how things were going. He told her about the hay crops. He told her about so many new calves. Two colts were born that year. All the other farm reports and, of course, other things discussed that I wouldn't know about. And then, all of a sudden, the bombshell fell. She said, "Harry, I hear you have an automobile on my estate! I want it off!" My father replied, "Miss Sally, you are partially right. You are partially wrong. I do not have an automobile on your estate, my wife does. And before we discuss it, I want you to know that my wife has given me an ultimatum; that if she cannot have the automobile, she is leaving. She's going back to Long Island and she's going to take the two children. And, Miss Sally, if she goes, I go with her." This shook Miss Sally up. She pondered. Then she said, "Harry, you may keep the automobile." This was the first automobile on the Hewitt estate, and one of the few times Miss Sally lost. After this episode was over my mother began to sew for the rich people over in Tuxedo Park. She would sew for Dr. Rushmore's wife, Dr. Morrison's wife, Mrs. Norvin Green, Mrs. Auchindoss, and a number of other people. Mother became more content and as time went on we always had an automobile. Back in 1921, Miss Sally and Miss Nellie had decided to spend the summer away so they notified my father to open the house up and have it ready for the month of May. But they would only stay there a short length of time as they were going to their other estate at Bar Harbor, Maine. They would be at Bar Harbor for three weeks. On return of the Bar Harbor visit, they would come back to Ringwood. They would stay two weeks and then they were going to Europe. They would be home about the middle of October. At some time, within the family, Miss Sally and her brother, Edward, must have had words or ill-feelings or whatever it might be. We never investigated. But Miss Sally issued orders to my father that, if Edward Hewitt came on to the property, to order him off. And if he didn't get off, to "use force and throw him the h....off! We will stand behind you 100% in any court procedure!" These were my father's orders. So the Hewitts, Miss Sally and Miss Nellie, went abroad, and while they were abroad my father was taken very ill. He had an attack of rheumatic fever and he was hospitalized at the

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Tuxedo Memorial Hospital at Tuxedo, New York. They had a Hewitt bed there. My father was in the hospital several weeks. He slowly gained and he came back very strong. In the meantime he was receiving letters — mostly from Miss Sally, a couple notes from Miss Nellie — but Miss Sally's writing was so miserable and hard to understand, and she wasted no space on any correspondence, she wrote from edge to edge and even up the sides so no space should be wasted. This naturally aggravated my father. We would receive letters from the different villas in Italy where they were staying: The Villa Cannone, Monte Cecri; The Villa Medicea, Vedente D. S., Giretano; and from Canneto Prato in Tuscany. Plus a number of letters from their villa in Venice. In the meantime back at the Hewitt Estate, my father was enjoying a good year as far as the weather was concerned. Mother Nature was on my dad's side. The hay fields were abundant. The crops were heavy. The animals produced a number of offsprings. Everything was going fine. When late July and early August came, the hay crops were the best he'd ever had because he had prepared and fertilized the fields early that spring. They mowed hay from the Terry place, a little farm that the Hewitts owned, the Babcock farm, both in Eagle Valley, New York, Ruth's Field at Shephard Pond, and Tidabock Farm, the Blackberry Lot up by John Dynley Prince, Sally's Field, and all the meadows down along the valley road almost to Erskine. He had the hay brought in to the nine barracks they had at the Home Farm. He filled the barns. He took some up to the Green's Estate and filled their barns. They filled the Miller barn with hay. He had all the hay ricks filled. And he had about seven more wagon loads of hay that he had no place for. So he had the men cart it down and they put it in Eddie Hewitt's barns. He almost filled Eddie's barns with the hay. An Pop was very proud of the fact that he had such a wonderful year. It was in October when the Hewitts came home. My father would always have to go down after they came home and make a report of what had been done during their absence. And when he reported the fact that he had such a wonderful hay season, he said, "Miss Sally's face glowed with satisfaction." But, then, he told her that he had put seven loads of hay in Eddie Hewitt's barns. She blew her stack! She really scolded my father and Well, it was the worst scolding he ever took as long as he worked for Sally Hewitt. My father accepted the scolding. He did not retal- iate only saying that he would not stand by and see food for the animals lay in the fields and rot. But he didn't like what she said. So from this point on the ice was thin. The Hewitts this year stayed up 'til right after Thanksgiving before they went back to 9 Lexington Avenue. So time goes on. The following year the Hewitts were off again to Bar Harbor. And Bar Harbor to Europe. My father kept the estate going and, of course, the gardens were always kept up. The Hewitts could come any day they wanted and it was presentable. But when it came to the hay, it kind of provoked my father. I never knew whether it was revenge or spite, but the scolding he took, he didn't like. So he had the men with their teams plow the fields. He plowed several fields, but not every one. The season wasn't a good hay season either. But where he plowed all these fields, he sent to Stump and Walters and he got potato eyes — bag after bag. And he planted field after field with potatoes. And time marches on. In late August, early September, he got the potato diggers out and the men by hand, and they

68 Sally vs. Harry dug potatoes, and they dug potatoes, and more potatoes. He had burlap tote bags. He didn't weight them out, but he filled the bags. Each bag held approximately a hundred pounds. And he carted them in. He had so many potatoes he didn't know what he was going to do with them. So, he had the teamsters load their wagons each day and they'd deliver a hundred pounds of potatoes to every house in Ringwood. And if it was a two family house, they got two bags. He delivered some as far as over to Stonetown. He delivered some down to Erskine. He delivered 'em wherever he could....until he got rid of his potatoes to avoid spoilage. He felt contented. His hay crop wasn't so good and the music still had to play. Sally is coming home So, on his annual report after their visit to Europe, as usual he reported: "Two new colts, so many heifers, this crop was good." And he told her about the potatoes. He said, "Miss Sally, I planted potatoes all over." He said, "I had so many, I delivered potatoes from house to house. We do not have to worry about spoilage, they all will be used." He told us that Miss Sally's face glowed she was so pleased that this had been done. But then my father dropped the bombshell. He said, "But, Miss Sally, we will have to buy hay this year. We're short of hay." She was dumb- struck. She never said a word. And from this point on Miss Sally had a better understanding of my father. It seemed to be like a turning point. I do not, in my writing, know how to explain the effect this had on both of them, but they met head-on. This time my father won. Our home was a lovely, old comfortable home — white stucco, gray trim, pinkish color slate- type roof. It was a very attractive building. It had nine rooms. The floors were all wide board flooring. We had running water and a bath, and the house was heated by a coal hot air furnace. When we moved there, and for years after, the cellar was used for the incubation rooms. The walls of the cellar must have been from a previous building that may have set on the foundation as the foundation walls were twenty inches thick, all stone, from years gone by. What it was ever used for we never knew. However, my father had two-one thousand egg incubators and one-five hundred egg incubator in the cellar. They were kept in the cellar because, during the incubation period, the incubators were heated by a kerosene type heating unit. It was similar to the old fashioned kerosene house lamp and needed almost constant attention. It had to be attended two or three times a day to keep the heat at the proper level of 103 degrees. So that's why they were kept in the cellar. Also in the room were twenty or twenty-five earthen crocks — five, ten or twenty gallon capacity — with lids. They were used to preserve eggs in waterglass. Just west of our house was the brooder house. The brooder house was approximately eighty feet long. It was heated by a hot water furnace, and it was a busy building in the springtime. As you walk out our back door and walk north, you pass the old hitching post and well, and you come to the henneries, the large chicken house. On the east side was a one-horse horse stable and the carriage shed. And the rest was all the chicken house. It must have been around one hundred and ten feet long. Here is where, naturally, the chickens were kept — the layers. It was also heated by hot water. The chicken house would accommodate approximately twenty-five hundred full-grown chickens and this was also quite a busy place all year round as chickens were shipped to New York every other day.

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Out in back of the chicken house was a structure that looked something like an outdoor fireplace. It was constructed of red brick. And built in on the top was a hundred and seventy five gallon iron pot. The fire was built underneath to heat this large pot. And it was here that, when a cow was slaughtered down on the farm, they'd bring the cow's head up and put it in this immense pot. And they would cook it, and cook it, until all the flesh fell off. They'd take the skull out. The meat and so forth were taken and fed to the chickens and to the pigs. The skulls were taken over around the Manor House and the gardens. They were put in racks. They were used for the birds to build their nests in. Twice a week my father would go down to the Ringwood General Store and he would purchase their meat scraps which they saved for him. He would pay them a penny a pound for the meat scraps. He would bring them up and cook them in this large vat, also to feed the chickens and the pigs. This irritated Miss Sally something awful: to have to pay a penny a pound for the meat scraps. She didn't like the idea at all, but my father kept right on going. One evening, at the kitchen table, he had the newspaper spread out. He said, "Look here, Bess: Sally was scolding me today about the meat scraps for a penny a pound. And here in the paper it lists that she's giving twenty-five thousand dollars to the Metropolitan Opera House and other sums of money to other different organizations." And my father said to my mother, "The chickens have to eat too." Miss Sally's handwriting was miserable. And truthfully, my father's was not much better. A few years later, Miss Sally came up to Ringwood and she just stayed for the weekend. Miss Sally and my father went on an inspection tour. My father used "Old Dan," his little, reliable horse. Miss Sally had become very heavy in her later years. She weighed between two hundred forty and two hundred forty-five pounds. My father was no lightweight. He weighed about two hundred and twenty, so we always used to say, "We feel sorry for poor Old Dan today. He's got his work cut out for him." But, however, they were on the inspection tour — this, that, and the other. And all of a sudden she thought of it and she reached into her vest-type pocket, and she pulled out a postcard that my father had sent to her, and she says, "Harry, what the h does this say?" My father looked at it and he says, "That is telling you that I cannot read your damn writing!" Nothing more was said. The tour went on. About ten days later my father received a Smith-Corona typewriter. And Miss Sally purchased a Dictaphone. This slowly solved the problem. My father was a one-finger typist for quite some time but he slowly mastered the typewriter. One day Miss Sally was alone and, with a horse and carriage, she went past Sally's field and went down on the Home Farm. She drove around to different spots. She wasn't speaking to anybody, she was just riding through. And as she passed the cow barns, Tracy Thompson was out by the Fairbanks-Morse Scale. Miss Sally rode by. He did not tip his hat. She went on. So this irritated her. She turned around and went back. And she fired him. Because he did not tip his hat. Tracy went home. He lived up in the mine area. It wasn't until that evening, when the men came in and congregated waiting for the whistle to blow to go home, that my father learned of what had happened, about Tracy. The next morning about ten o'clock, my father took Old Dan and he drove up to the mine area to Tracy's house and he told Tracy, "Come on back to work. Don't worry about it." So, he got Tracy to come back to work.

70 Sally vs. Harry

My father approached Miss Sally. He said, "Miss Sally, I hired Tracy back. He's a good hand. He's a good worker. He didn't really make a mistake because when he looked at you, he thought that you were a man with that fedora hat on." I believe it was late in the fall in 1925. Miss Sally was preparing to go back to the city and she started putting some clothes aside. She had one of the maids bring some clothes that she wanted mended over to my mother. And some she wanted made larger as she was gaining weight very fast. It was about three o'clock one afternoon, Miss Sally pulled up in a horse and carriage along side of our house. Sam Van Dunk, who worked in the chicken house, went out and tied her horses to our hitching post. Miss Sally got out and came into our home. They discussed what had to be done and to be measured for the garments to be made larger. After the discussions were over, my mother said to Miss Sally, "Would you like a cup of tea and some crackers or cookies?" Miss Sally says, "No thank you. No doubt, when I go around by the farm and I get home, it'll be around five o'clock and they'll have my dinner about ready." My mother spoke up and she said, "The only other thing I have to offer you is a glass of dandelion wine, my son Louis made. Last spring there were a lot of dandelions, and they went out in your fields, and they picked dandelions and made wine. Would you care for a glass?" Miss Sally said, "Yes, I would enjoy it." So my mother went and got a long-stemmed glass and poured her a glass of wine. My mother and her were discussing different things and Miss Sally noticed the drapes that my mother had made. She admired them and how cozy the home was. Then Miss Sally told my mother, "Mrs. West, you or I will never live to see it. But your sons will. Someday the City of New York is going to overflow, and people are going to escape. They will naturally go in all directions, but many will come to my Ramapos. And there will be homes spotted all through my beautiful mountains. May I have another glass of wine, please?" This was Miss Sally's last visit to our home and it expresses the great foresight that she had. As I have mentioned before, the estate was very, very large. And as I was growing up, you could see the cattle grazing, the great fields, the lakes, the oxen working. You could see the carriage horses going about, you go up into the elaborate gardens and over to the very large manor house. To me this was like a formal English country estate combined with a working southern plantation. In Miss Sally's waning years she was relying more and more on my father to do the things that she wanted to do on this great estate. She wanted to do everything that she could possibly do to keep the estate the same as it was when "momma" was alive. "Keep it nice for momma." She is now displaying toward my father one of the great Hewitt traits:

Trust Is Sacred She trusted my father. And as I write this, if such a thing were possible, I would believe that if they were both alive today, my father would still be working for Sarah Cooper Hewitt.

Louis P. West September 1994

71 12 Chapter 13: The Forges and Manor of Ringwood

George Washington's Bicentennial: 1732 - 1932

JLt was a brisk fall day. It was October the sixteenth in nineteen thirty. My father was busy down on the farm and Oliver Roome had received a very important telegram for him. He sent one of the local boys up to tell my father to come down to his office right away. And when my father got there Oliver Roome handed him the telegram. It read: "Miss Sarah Cooper Hewitt passed away at ten o'clock this morning." (Signed) "Erskine Hewitt." The news spread fast that the spark of Ringwood had gone out. Miss Sally is gone. That evening the newspapers carried front page accounts about Miss Sally and her brilliant career. Locally the news was received by the public with mixed feelings: there were those who were very sorry, there were those who didn't care that much, and there were those who felt, as one person said, "She was no better than anybody else." Time marches on. Miss Sally's will was lengthy. The bulk of the estate and the cash went to her brother, Erskine. There was cash left to her niece, Princess Viggo of Denmark, and to Norvin Green of Tuxedo Park, New York. They were brother and sister. They also inherited the Bar Harbor estate. Cooper Union received a large amount, along with the Museum of Natural History, the Metropolitan Opera, Cooper Hewitt Museum, and various other people. She left her brother, Edward, a mahogany writing table copied from the original George Washington table in New York's City Hall. She left sums of money to her help in New York — Donelly, her big English butler, and Anna Engesser, in later years her companion. And many friends in New York received smaller amounts. She left varying amounts to her employees here at Ringwood — my father, Harry West, Oliver Roome, Arthur Bishop, Jim Mann, George Whitehead, Sam Morgan, John Morgan, Harrison Van Dunk, Summer Stites. And, of course, there were others. The bulk of her estate was her large holdings: two hundred shares of the Hewitt Realty Company; 3,155 shares of International Business Machines; 60 shares of the Union Sulfur Company; 2,625 shares of United Fruit; 7,600 share of Central Aguirre Associates; 707 shares of Guarantee Trust; 1,297 shares of American Power & Light; 200 shares of the Ringwood Company; $901,491 in U. S. Liberty Bonds. All in addition, of course, to the vast Hewitt Estate. After the funeral, the following day, Erskine Hewitt came to Ringwood and he met with my father. What they discussed I really never did know. But one thing I do know: he told my father,

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"To continue on just like we're going now." There would not be any sudden changes. If they did come, they would come slowly. Erskine Hewitt began to associate himself around the Manor House more and more — more than any time since we had lived there. He had a piece of property on the north end of Cupsaw Lake and he built a home there. He moved from New York and he lived at Cupsaw Lake with his chauffeur, Alexander Smith, a Scotchman. They would come over to the Manor grounds almost daily, the chauffeur driving a chain drive "Simplex" automobile. There was one thing they never realized: they could never sneak up on anybody because you could hear the vehicle coming maybe half a mile away with the hum of the chains against the driving cog wheel. It was a unique automobile. He had traveled all through Europe with it. This was the era of the country's deepest depression and the political atmosphere as well as the economy were in turmoil. The Ringwood mines were still operating but there was no market for the ore. They were stockpiling it, and with the coming of June in 1931 the Cannon Mine and Peters Mine were closed down. It was in the fall of 1931 that Erskine Hewitt met with my father and told him that he was slowly going to open up the great Hewitt Estate which had been private for so many years. He said, "Harry, we're going to do it slowly. Next year (1932) we're going to hold 'The Forges And Manor of Ringwood George Washington Bicentennial'." But, he said, my father should continue on, keep the farms operating, keep the gardens up. Everything must go on as he as going to invite selected groups of people to come to The Manor and Forges. There would be guided tours and the tours would be led by my father and Erskine Hewitt only. This would start Decoration Day and continue right on through Thanksgiving. All the invitations were handled through Erskine Hewitt's office in New York City. The groups most generally consisted of historical groups, historical societies, colleges, school groups, one group from Washington D. C, and many others too numerous to mention. And in the month of May 1932, Erskine Hewitt had pamphlets made that he handed out to each person who came and visited The Manor. Let's take a little walk through the Manor and grounds while I tell you something about this remarkable place. I will include some of the facts contained in that first descriptive brochure, but I'll tell other things too, including some of the changes which have taken place in the intervening sixty-odd years.

"Known for many years as "The Forges And Manor Of Ringwood", it is pleasant, if one can, to believe rumors, fancies, romances, and traditions wrapped up and clustered about the place. Some of these tales are more or less supported by confirmatory evidence, some are apparently fully verified."

Ringwood's relatively unrecognized role in the Revolution is explained in this first brochure as follows: "Though unheralded and unsung, rarely has a place proved so determinative of such great events and consequences. Historic ground where men worked, fought, bled and made sac- rifices for their country consigned to oblivion because of Washington's general orders that neither Robert Erskine nor Ringwood should ever be mentioned in communications or dispatches; orders issued and occasioned by the fact that a British officer paroled at Ringwood, in talking with

74 The Forges and Manor of Ringwood

Erskine over port after dinner, secured much information of troop movements, supplies and plans, which were later transmitted to the enemy." It is true that an old Indian camp did exist here in this area west of the Manor House. Here, when it was plowed, most always you could pick up arrowheads and other items that were used by the Indians. At the foot of the little hill in the area, which later became known as a magazine lot, was found a large mortar stone where the Indians ground their corn. The reason this lot was called the magazine lot — during the Revolutionary War, here is where the powder was kept. There was like an old shed, or an old building, right in the center of the lot. The site was chosen because they felt it was the safest place to have the magazine. On the south side the Drink Brook came down from the mine area, and on the north side the Gills Brook came down. So the powder house was between two brooks and in case of a forest fire there was some sort of protection. In later years the magazine house was still used to store powder during the early days of the mining era. The brochure explains the reason for Ringwood's importance in the Revolution as follows: "It is an undoubted fact that Ringwood was largely instrumental in winning the Revolution. At times it made most of the iron required for the war and other times was almost the only source of large supplies such as cannon balls, forge and strip iron, as well as (parts of) the West Point chain. Much of this actually appears in the books of the accounts, some pages of which are now in the Manor House hall, as well as in records of payments by the government. On the back road, and half way between Morristown and West Point, Ringwood was a focal point for troop movements, ammunition and supplies at times when other roads were cut off. Consequently the British insti- tuted many raids in efforts to capture it. If any of them had proven successful, the war must have come to an end. For better protection, to defend it, a battery was established on the mountains of Suffern covering the entrance to the Ramapo Pass. Several times the English troops penetrated as far as Mahwah but were never able to get through the pass... " "A regiment was kept ready always to march on twenty-four hours' notice, composed of men engaged on the place in the iron works, mines, making of charcoal and raising of rations. This regiment was called into military service only once, being engaged in the production of iron without which the military operations could not have been continued. The only time the regiment was called out, a British marauding band raided the place and burned the house, but they did not have time to destroy the forges and furnace, the troops were coming back in time." At one time or another most of the important generals of the Revolution stopped in Ringwood — Washington, Howe, and Greene, who laid out the road to Tuxedo, and others. The place is mentioned several times in Washington's expense book because of "washing done" and "horses shod." A number of his letters were written and dated in the Manor, two of which are in the possession of Erskine Hewitt. Here is where the old furnace stood. A number of years ago the furnace fell down and this step waterfalls was created — on the exact site where the furnace once stood. The little pond stands where the casing beds once were. The old blacksmith shop that still stands today is probably in better condition than at the time of the Revolution. The mill forge and the stamping mill building exist in the shape of a house and a dairy. And the crushing plant and the sorting bins remain now serving as the stable basement. In both of these the old beams hewed by hand with an adze can still be seen in splendid condition, so hard as to make it difficult to cut them with modern tools.

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The oldest house on the place is the one near the stone gates, near mill pond. Built many years before the Revolution, it was used for a long time as a church. The large fireplace formerly filled with a crane and a spit is quite characteristic. This building was the home of the Ogdens. (That's before Hasendever's time!) And time marches on. But when Hasenclever came to this country, he wouldn't live there. He lived down in the house where the Manor House is now — one of the first buildings that was ever there. And while he was living here, he was living very lavishly (they called him "The Baron"). He did not use the building where the Ogdens had lived. They had many people working in the mines, and over in Irishtown, working at the forge and at the furnace. They all wanted a church, so Hasenclever let them use the old Ogden homestead for a Catholic Church in the morning and a Protestant Church in the afternoon. It is a proven fact that a Father Farmer whose church was in Philadelphia, the Catholic Church behind Independence Hall, kept meticulous records which are still in existence today. And, in his records, it show how he would come on horseback, in the late 1750's and 1760's, up to New Jersey — to Newfoundland, Charlottesburg, Long Pond and Ringwood. He would baptize, marry and other duties of the Catholic Church. But it also proves that the first Catholic Mass that was ever said in a church in the State of New Jersey was in Ringwood, New Jersey. The present long, rounded point in the pond in front of the Manor House was formerly an old cattle corral. It was from this field that the first contingent gathered for the march on Yorktown. They left Ringwood and they marched toward Philadelphia. A Robert Morris who is buried in the old Pre-Revolutionary grounds in Ringwood, pledged to pay, and he bought shoes for those who were going to march. He never paid his bill and he was put in jail to discharge his debt to society. In the old Revolutionary graveyard just west of Sally's Pond, the early settlers, Indians, and troops, who lost their lives in the revolutionary era, were buried. As was also Robert Erskine and his clerk. George Washington came to Erskine's funeral after the Andre trial, stopping at the Manor House and planting an oak beside the tomb. From this little acorn that George Washington planted by Erskine's grave site, a large oak tree grew — the mighty oak. One hot and sultry July night we had a terrific thunderstorm. Lightning struck the Washington Tree. It split it right down the middle. The portion that fell was taken and cut up into cord wood. But there was one portion, about twenty feet high of the main trunk, that still stood. The Hewitts had that removed and it was taken over and put right on their front porch, right next to the main entrance for display. The Washington Tree — it stayed out there all summer until they got ready to go to New York and closed the Manor House. The last thing that was ever done before everybody left the Manor was to bring the Washington Tree into the main Hall of the Manor House. And diere it would stay all winter. In the spring of the year, this would be the first thing that would be moved back out on the porch. The Hewitts loved the Washington Tree. The horse mounting block that you see in front of the Manor House dates back to Robert Erskine's time when he was at Ringwood. It was along side the road near the original home where Erskine had lived at that time. There once were gates on the little hill on the west side of the Manor House. They were the old gates of Columbia College at 49th Street. They had been moved there from the original site in downtown New York. When Miss Sally gained possession of these gates, she instructed my

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father she wanted them erected, in respect of her father, on that little hill. My father contacted the engineer at the Ringwood Company, a man by the name of Herbert Whitehead. He came down and made the arrangements for the proper placement of these gates. They were there when the estate was given to the State of New Jersey and, I'm sorry to say, they have disappeared and I have been unable to determine where they went. In the front hedge there once were the gates from the Astor House on 23 rd Street in New York City. And there were three gates, formerly the entrance to the vegetable gardens, which were from the Middle Dutch Reformed Church in New York. The Church was, for many years, used by the students of Kings College (which became Columbia College) for their graduation exercises. Abram S. Hewitt walked through these gates to deliver his valedictory address. On one of them Alexander Hamilton was said to have climbed and clung to harangue the mob when he was fourteen or fifteen years of age. The first time he was ever heard from in public life. These gates were there when the State of New Jersey took it over. They were there for a few years after. I'm sorry to report they are not there any longer and we have been unable to find out what happened to them. The ornaments in the plot of ground near the vegetable garden were the newels of the stoops of the houses in Lafayette Place in New York City known as Colonnade Row — the old gas lamps. The millstone on which the lead fountain rests (the west fountain) is one of those from the old mill which was running at the time of the purchase of Ringwood by Peter Cooper. The millstones used as tables on the piazza are from Brenta as well as are the two curbs. The two statues at each end of the path are French and represent Africa. The windows and the glass by the west end of the piazza were formerly part of the Cooper Union in New York and came to the Manor when the art school there was altered. Many utensils are still about the place, such as a dog churn, where the dog walked on a tread to turn the churn, and old spiders and cranes. And on the wall in the main entrance, the collection of a lot of wooden articles which Miss Sally showed me the day she hired me to carry the mail — a bowl, fork, knife, and other things that her grandfather, Peter Cooper, made. When he first got married, they were so poor they couldn't afford them — so he made them. This she was very proud of. Around these bowls, forks and knives which she showed me, were so many things I cannot tell you about them all, but I will do my best. There were letters from George Washington datelined "Ringwood"; there were letters from George Washington datelined "Headquarters" which was Ringwood. And there were letters there from old friends such as the letter from President Lincoln with thanks for the gun carriages which he had needed so badly. Hanging on the wall was a lottery ticket — a lottery run by George Washington for a road in Virginia. There were several guns, some handguns and some long arms that hung on the wall. Not as you see it today. I'm talking about the way it was. As you walked into the Manor House in the 1920's, as you walked through the front entrance, immediately as you stepped over the tread, on each side of the door was a suit of armor. I might as well tell you the truth; when I was a youngster I was always afraid of them because I thought there was somebody inside. But, however, there they were — these two suits of armor. Immediately, on the left side as you walked in was the mail bag that, about seventy years ago, I used to carry the mail from the post Office. But one of the most interesting things, I think, that

78 The Forges and Manor of Ringwood hung on the wall was an old beaten brass bugle. This, Miss Sally used at all times. She did not believe in the electronic transmission of voice such as a telephone. She would take the bugle and go out on the porch and she would blast away. And with this blast she was sending a message to her coachman, Michael Whalen, "Ready the horses. Hitch them up to the carriage, I will be call- ing later." This was the message. I do not know how long it was, but let's say in 25 or 30 minutes she was ready. She went out and she gave the blast. She sent the message by bugle: "Michael Whalen, I'm ready." And in almost no time flat, Michael was there with her team of prize steeds and she would take off to either her tour or wherever she was going. The horses were ready. So that was one thing that was inside the door. You go on a little bit further and you would see two sedan chairs. I believe one's still at the Manor House yet, the other one was sold at the auction which disgusted me. Immediately behind the Manor House were the formal gardens. To walk these paths was a pleasure. It was interesting. It was educational. As you walk past you see these columns on both the east side and the west side. They were from the New York Life Insurance Company. How this connection came about I never knew but these columns still stand today. And as you walked around the garden there was one thing I've always admired; there were eight seats — some kind of stone structure. These were a wedding gift to Abram S. Hewitt and Sarah Bedell when they got married. They still are there although I think one or two are broken down. Also, as you walked around, there were mortars which had been used by the Indians to grind their corn. There were seven or eight of those around. Of course, as the rain fell they filled with water. It was water for the birds. That's the way the Hewitts felt. And on the north side of the path there were two giant sea clam shells. I believe you call them clams ... I don't really know. It was some kind of a shell that was enormous. It was almost two and one-half feet long. They naturally collected water. In each corner of the rear garden there were big circles, and in these circles were planted the most fragrant flower that a person would ever know — purple heliotrope. Miss Nellie's pride was the walks and the paths — all in front of the Manor House, all through the upper gardens, and all through the formal gardens. The walks were beautiful. They were covered about two inches thick with a waste product from the mines known as tailings. The tailings which were used were from the water system separation of the iron ore. This type of tailings would not pack and as you walked on these paths it was like a cushion. And each step you took you got that cushion feeling with the pleasant aroma of the heliotrope, with the path sparkling in the bright sunshine...it was like a touch of Eden! In this part of the garden, along the wall, is where the old slave quarters were. They were torn down a number of years ago. As we walk around and we come to the north end of the piazza we come to the old well. This well is believed to have been dug in the Hasenclever era. Along side the well are some iron articles from Ryerson's Wynockie Furnace — the Freedom Furnace: U- bars, baffle bars, and two very large iron pots or vats that were used to boil the maple sugar down. In another area you will find the lintel from Ryerson's Wanaque Furnace, dated 1838. Nearby, leaning against a tree, is a trip hammer cog. Along side of it is the trip hammer and the anvil that were used in the old forge. We can also see the replica of a chain. This is not the chain that was stretched across the Hudson River. Mr. Hewitt bought this chain in England and had it brought over. We pass the big gun, the cannon, that was used in the Civil War at the Battle of Vicksburg. There are only two of these, I understand, in existence. Of course, this one here and there's one

79 A Brief Description of What Ringwood Was Like in the 1920 's

in Phillipsburg, New Jersey near Hewitt's old Andover furnace. Then we come to the gun from "The United States Constitution" — Old Ironsides. Mr. Hewitt learned that guns from Old Ironsides were being smelted, and when he heard of it he contacted the officials and he procured one. It was sent from Philadelphia directly to Ringwood under strict orders by A. S. Hewitt. I have in my collection the waybill on the shipment of this cannon. See the bell up in this chimney? That was at the old furnace and it was used to alert the men when they needed to be brought together. In later years it was in case of fire or any emergency. Here is one of the eight foot, ornamental, wrought-iron frames which holds a cow's skull for the birds to build nests in. Over on the corner where the locust trees and the road go up to the green- house, you'll notice a water wheel crankshaft. This crankshaft was brought up from Ryerson's Freedom Furnace in 1926 as they were building the Wanaque Reservoir. Most all these things that I have mentioned were in the little brochure. Erskine Hewitt as well as my father would discuss other things. One, for example, would be about the Ringwood raids of Claudius Smith, the outlaw who became a legend in the Ramapos. And they would speak about the Ramapo people sometimes known as "Jackson's Whites." Unique to this area, they are an admixture of Indian and Caucasian blood, as well as being descendants of slaves, some of whom were here on this place. And whose families had been here since the original settlement. Many have Caucasian features as well as characteristics of the Indian. From one of these families Barnum secured an albino and he was exhibited for a number of years. Erskine Hewitt was more than pleased with the response of the public and the great interest in the Hewitt Estate. The last tour was on Sunday, November the twentieth, nineteen thirty-two. And it was from these tours and the growing interest in Ringwood that Erskine Hewitt finally made a great decision: To donate the Manor And Forges of Ringwood to the people — The State of New Jersey.

Louis P. West October 1994

80 Chapter 14: The Flight of the Gloria

LLt was late in the year of 1935 when we learned that during the winter months an attempt was going to be made to launch a rocket-plane on Greenwood Lake. It was designed to fly from Greenwood Lake, New York over the state line to Hewitt, New Jersey. Mike Morin, who owned the boat works in Sterling Forest, New York, was assigned to build the launching ramp for the rocket's take-off. In January 1936, applications were made available to anyone who would want a piece of rocket-plane airmail, addressed to them, placed on board the rocket. It was a very cold winter. We had a thick ice on Greenwood Lake and the launch was set for February the ninth in 1936. I did not go to the lake, as I knew when the flight was over the mail would come to the Hewitt Post Office. And, as Assistant Postmaster, my job was to cancel the rocket letters for delivery. On the morning of the ninth the ramp was moved out on the ice approximately a quarter of a mile north of the NY-NJ state line. Things were in preparation early in the morning. The event had been well advertised and as time went on the news media appeared — the radio stations, the camera men from the news reels, and, of course, the newspaper photographers. They were set to shoot the first rocket off. This rocket was designed by Willy Ley. He was a great scientist and an expert on rockets. He had tried very hard to bring the importance of rocketry to the attention of the United States government. But no one in Washington seemed to listen to him. He became associated with Mr. Fred Kessler of New York City who owned a very large business in stamps, albums, etc. Mr. Kessler thought it would be a great thing for his business, for the stamp collectors to have mail aboard the rocket-plane. And it would be a great advantage to Willy Ley to show the power that rockets have. The mail was put in the nose of the rocket-plane. Things were ready to go. The cameras began to grind and the radio people were describing the scene as Willy Ley, in his asbestos suit, went over by the launch site and ignited the rocket. The rocket surged, limped a bit, moved a few feet up the launch ramp, and fell nose down and hit the ice — right at the foot of the launch ramp. It was a total failure. It was a flop. The people slowly walked away. Of course, Willy Ley was astounded. But he did not give up. A new date was set for February the twenty-third. I had not been to

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the launch site on February the ninth and I thought I would go up to see what was going on. So, on the twenty-third, I went up to Greenwood Lake and by the time I got there the launch ramp was out. Due to the previous failure there weren't too many people this time. There were maybe a couple of hundred spectators. It was bitter cold — zero or better. There was activity — some of it to keep warm. Out on the ice I saw a rocket-plane on the launch ramp. It was Gloria I. And over by the launch ramp there was another rocket-plane lying on the ice. This one was marked "Gloria II". Activity began to pick up and the mail was put into the nose cone of Gloria I. Things were set. Willy Ley, in his asbestos suit, went over and ignited Gloria I. She responded immediately. She zoomed right off the launch ramp. She became airborne. She traveled, I would estimate, a hundred or a hundred and fifty feet. Suddenly, she faltered and went nose down and hit the ice, dam- aging the nose. The flight had failed. So, they went out and moved Gloria I to one side. They removed the mail, brought it back up to the ramp, and put it in the nose of Gloria II. They moved Gloria II to a position in front of the launch pad — lying on the ice. They pointed it in a southerly direction. We must remember that these planes, when they get in the air, are not controlled. They are free. No control whatsoever. They had Gloria II in position. The mail was aboard. They let it lay right on the ice. And Willy Ley went over and ignited the rocket. It responded immediately. She picked up speed. The best way I can explain it, it was like a stone being skipped over the water; it seemed to bounce and scrape — bang, clank...clank, bang, clank. All of a sudden it got air under its wing and became airborne. Gloria II was in flight. She climbed to 25, 30 — maybe 35 or 40 feet; actually I really would not know. And she was travel- ing at a good rate of speed. She got just so far and it was evident that the fuel ran out because there had to be a limited amount of fuel. Gloria II came down on the ice and damaged its nose a bit. It had landed over the state line and was in Hewitt, New Jersey. Gloria II had made an historical flight. The exact distance I really wouldn't know and I don't think it was ever exactly deter- mined. Several hundred and possibly a thousand feet, but it carried a load across the state line and it was officially declared a successful flight. They went out on the ice to Gloria II and they took the mail out. I had left the scene and I had gone down to the Hewitt Post Office which was in The Old Country Store. I would be there when the mail was brought in. And the mail was brought in. There were six thousand, one hundred and forty-nine pieces of mail that I canceled that day — February 23, 1936, Hewitt New Jersey — a fourth class office. The mail now was ready for delivery. History was made that day at Hewitt, New Jersey with the first rocket airmail in the world.

Louis P. West March, 1995

82 90 Chapter 15: Ye Old Country Store

IL,t is January 1935, the first week after the holidays. When I looked out the window it was snowing, ten above zero, a cold nasty day. And I really didn't feel like going to work. I was working at the Ringwood Company's General Store in Ringwood. I was a clerk. I reported to work at nine o'clock and the gloomy day was ahead of me. Around 10:30 that morning I was called in to the Ringwood Company office, and I was asked if I would go to Hewitt and manage the Hewitt store for them — Ye Old Country Store. Well, truthfully, I was a little undecided but it was a break. I accepted. I said that I would go but there had to be conditions due to the fact that I was living on the Hewitt Estate and the Hewitt Estate was in the process of being given to the State of New Jersey. And once the State took it over, I would have to be out of there. So, we went into further discussions. They agreed to restore the old Laird house at Hewitt, New Jersey. They immediately went to work on repairing the house. The following Monday morning I went to work at the Country Store. This would be my longest stay at any one place with the Ringwood Company. Little did I know I would be here for the next twenty years. The previous manager, Mr. Frank Laird, had passed away a little over a year ago, and the store had been run haphazardly. Truthfully, it was a mess. The shelves were half empty. The store dis- rupted and dirty. It had no attention, no upkeep of business. Things looked mighty glum to me. The Post Office was there and I was sworn in as Assistant Postmaster. The Postmaster never stayed there. He went out to work and left the duties to the Assistant Postmaster. This also was a new experience for me. However, I made an effort and started to clean up. And slowly and surely things were straightening out. But we had one great, great problem. It was in the height of the national depression. It wasn't only here in Hewitt. It was all over. There was no money around, many people idle, and under these conditions even though I wasn't too happy with my job as yet, I was thankful to have a job. My salary was one hundred dollars a month. But time marches on. And in the meantime, they were coming along very nicely on the house where I am to move and bring my little family, my wife and my son, Louis, Jr. They put in running water, sink, and bathroom, electricity, all new flooring, and new cabinets for me. They put a fence around the whole area for the protection of my little boy. That I demanded. They agreed. So it wasn't too long after that we moved off the Estate. I was the last person to live on the Hewitt Estate.

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So here I am working. It wasn't a routine with the daily chores — except the mail coming in. There wasn't that much work there. It was rather monotonous. Where do you get customers? How do you get 'em? There's nobody around. But slowly the transit trade began to pick up. And the weekend business grew. I had to work Sundays, my day off would be Thursday as the weekends were the better business days. So time goes on. Each year there is a steady growth in the business, The Company is pleased because it was on the brink of failure. I put in a larger variety of meats. I put in fishing tackle. I added to the clothing and the shoe departments. I put in fresh vegetables — but not a large selection. The fresh vegetables and the meats would come on Fridays as Saturdays would be a busy day for the orders. Yes, business was on a steady incline. Slowly, but now I am showing a profit for the Company. In 1936, the Ringwood Company started the Erskine Preserve. They put twenty thousand acres into a fish and game club. They had the Wanaque River from Greenwood Lake to the Wanaque Reservoir. This was stocked with trout. The Erskine Preserve headquarters was at The Country Store. This brought me many more new customers. It brought in the tired hunter that wanted a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, different supplies that he might need, shotgun shells, fishing lines, fish poles, what have you. So we were off in a new field. It was in 1936 that preparations were being made at Greenwood Lake as Willy Ley, the scientist, was going to attempt to shoot a rocket on Greenwood Lake. And we at the post office were alerted to have stamps as the rocket plane would carry air mail — rocket mail. It was on February 23 rd, Willy Ley ignited the rocket plane, and it flew from the New York side of Greenwood Lake a quarter mile or thereabouts. To Hewitt, New Jersey — it crossed the state line. The flight was classified as a successful flight. I canceled over six thousand pieces of mail for that flight. Now this was the first rocket mail not only in the United States, this was the first rocket mail in the world. So history was made at Hewitt, New Jersey. I was not the Postmaster at that time. The Postmaster was Walt White. But I did the work. The following year, the Ringwood Company opened up a skeet field. The skeet field was down back of the Wanaque Valley Inn. The sportsmen would come most generally on Saturdays or Sundays and holidays to shoot skeet. Yes, I was in charge of it. I had to dispense all of the ammunition and take care of the receipts of the day when they came in. So I'm off — business is growing. To describe the Country Store in these early years of my being there — the best I can describe it, when you came to the entrance to the store, there was a split door, a Dutch door, that had a mail slot. There was no catch for the mail slot. The mail went right on the floor. If anybody dropped money for postage it went right on the floor. I would pick it up in the morning. However, as you crossed the threshold, immediate to your left, you look at the south wall. In the southwest corner there was the old-fashioned slide door telephone booth. On the south wall there was a series of shelves. Here were the jellies, jams, all the peanut butter, all the spreads of that type, and pickles and hot peppers. On the bottom tiers I had all types of different kinds of dog food. (Which wasn't too many in that era). The southeast corner was my office. And the back wall going from the southeast corner to the northeast corner immediately next to my office was a large old fashioned, eight-door, wooden ice box. And right next to my office was the butcher block — right in front of the ice-box. I had a

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meat grinder and a slicing machine. Immediately right along side, a scale. The old-type scale with roll barrel figures in it. The back wall, next to the ice-box, was the vegetable bins. Along the back wall, the shelves going right up to the post office were in tiers. The first tier was drug items. The second tier was mostly tobacco — cigarettes, cigars, and things of that character. And the other six tiers, going up to the post office, from the floor almost to the ceiling, were canned goods. It really looked nice when they were fully stocked. We only handled White Rose brand. It was a quality brand of that day. The top shelf was paper towels, toilet tissue, and the rest is cereal and soap powders. That went all the way from one end of the building to the other. And up in the northeast corner was the Hewitt post office. The counter had an opening half- way through. From the northeast to the northwest wall, in the space by the chimney, hung twenty or thirty fish poles — all kinds of fishing poles, fishing nets, creels, and waders. From the chimney on to the west wall was all shelving. I had clothing, dungarees, overalls, ladies' silk stockings, ladies' lisle stockings, men's jackets, arctics, boots, rubbers, shoes, and a number of other things in wearing apparel. Out on the floor was one very large glass case — a candy case. Here I displayed all the candies — the five cent bars, but mostly the penny candies. And that played very big in the early days. Next to it was a beautiful oak framed, beveled glass case. This held all fishing tackle: fish hooks, snells, split shot, weights, and different types of lures, and different kinds of fishing lines, and ... oh, so many things. This played a big part. Next to that were a few auto supplies. We didn't go too big in that but we had repair kits in case of a flat tire, spark plugs, inner tubes, and I carried about a dozen different sized tires. One tire that was popular at that time was the 475 x 19. Immediately in front of the counters I had about fifteen kinds of cookies. Nabisco Cookies or Ivin's Cookies which sold by the pound. And over in the corner I always had a hundred pound bag of peanuts. This went very good. It was messy though. Some people would just take a couple and that was it. I'd sweep the shells off of the floor. But it kept the customers coming. From the outside appearance of The Country Store, it looked like a two-story building. But it wasn't. As you walked over the threshold and looked up, you'd see how high the ceiling really was. There were six globe lights that hung from the ceiling. When I first went to The Country Store we used a money till drawer. It was a drawer underneath the counter. It had a five finger combination on it. You had to know the combination or a bell would ring. Thank goodness I never heard the bell ring. We got along very well with it. — But every time you hired new help you had to give them the combination. But, at the same time, when you let the help go, you had to change the combination. So, it was about two years after I was there that I finally persuaded the company to get me a cash register. It would not only help me in my work, it would help me with their records. I got the cash register. So, the store is steadily improving. The center of the whole Country Store unit was a refreshment stand. This we opened up on Decoration Day and generally stayed open until around the first of November. Here is where the hamburgers, the hot dogs, sandwiches, ice cream sodas, ice cream, Eskimo Pies, soda pop — all the goodies went over the counter. And we did a very good business there during the summer. It was doing so well that in the 1940's the Ringwood Company finally decided that they'd take

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the old portion of the building, the north end, the building that was built in the Hasendever time, and they would convert it into a dining room. Tests were made because of the age of the building for the safety of the public. The walls on this building are sixteen to eighteen inches thick. It was always cool in the summer time. And it wasn't bad in the winter. It kept the worst out. Immediately as you walked into the dining room from the refreshment stand, was an original Benjamin Franklin wood burning stove. A beautiful antique piece. And it always went so well in the fall months when you might have a few brisk days to have the fire burning in an old Benjamin Franklin, wood burning stove. The customers really enjoyed that. A portion of the menu that was served in the dining room: sirloin steak, whole white potatoes, peas, carrots, lettuce and tomatoes, bread and butter, coffee, tea, or milk, pie, ice cream or jello for desert was one dollar and seventy-five cents.

Porterhouse dinner - $1.75 Pork chop dinner - $1.65 Lamb chop dinner - $1.65 Mixed salad dinner - $1.60 Bacon, lettuce & tomato sandwich - $ .35 Luncheon meat sandwich - $ .25 All hamburgers - $ .25 Hot dogs - $ .10

That was a part of the menu. Yes, we were kept busy in the summer time, but unfortunately after Labor Day it died right off. So I generally closed the dining room around September fifteenth. On the outside, immediately behind the store and the dining room were two furnace barrows that were there all the while I was at the Country Store for twenty years. These barrows were used up at the Long Pond furnace when it was in operation. They were used to charge the furnace. I do not know exactly what year it was that the Ringwood Company decided to make a picnic grounds out in back of the Country Store. The Wanaque River came down past the Long Pond furnace, down through the big meadow in a long sweeping curve. Behind the Country Store is a spring that empties into the river there. The Ringwood Company had a power shovel come in when the water was low. Where there was a slight pool, they dug it and dug and dug and they made a large ... like a swimming pool — the old-fashioned swimming hole. That's what it was! It was nice cool fresh water at all times coming through and if you went swimming there you could see the trout swimming. It was great! A rustic chestnut log footbridge was built to cross the river and we built about twenty picnic tables and fifteen or so fireplaces. We put two signs up in front of the Country Store —

THE PICNIC GROUND

Brookside Picnic Glen

94 Ye Old Country Store

It wasn't long before we had the parking lots filled. We charged $.50 for parking all day regardless of the amount of people in the car. Saturdays and Sundays, most generally Sundays, it was a sellout, weatherwise. So, another thing had taken place at the Country Store. In the nineteen forties dark clouds of World War II were gathering. And big timber was needed in the New York area — in the East River, the North River and Jersey City. The timber was needed for the piers and slips. George Christopher contacted the Ringwood Company and they went into a contract to take out the tall timber for the needs of New York. They moved in a small lumber camp on the east shore of the river at Long Pond furnace site. And they were to timber, and did timber, the Mike's place, the Ward's place, Jenning's Hollow. All through the forest up as far as the state line, the tall timber was to come out. They would bring them down to my store. I had to check them out. It wasn't a hard job. Really all I had to do was count them. But a big mistake was made. There's a place they called Dark Hollow. Truthfully, it was dark in the daytime. That's where it got its name. It's about one ridge over from the Greenwood Lake beach. Here it is where the original North Jersey forest still stood. It was in a gully. The sawyers see the big trees. Their salary was based on the base cut. The trees were fallen. George Christopher did not have the proper equipment, nor could he get the equipment, to get them out. That's how big they were. They still are in Dark Hollow. As I write this in 1994, I do believe that you can go up there and still see decayed logs still lying there. Almost fully decayed, rotten logs, still laying in Dark Hollow. I was given a new assignment: To take full charge of Long Pond area. The problem was keeping out the junk dealers, the poachers, and the younger generation going in to swim in the mine hole. This was a problem, but the natives living in there helped me. So, we got through the era. Then I was advised that in the near future the Long Pond site was going to be given to the State of New Jersey for preservation. Along side of my cash register you would always find my charge pad for the charge customers. The Country Store's operation was the same as the old fashioned "company store" system. All the employees of the Ringwood Company, their store bill and rent would be deducted from their paychecks. We used what was known as the "McCaskey System" — a triplicate copy: One for the main office, one for the customer, and one for my records. All customers were waited on. No self service. Either charge or cash. I shall try to give you a brief description of my daily activities as the customers come in. The first customer is a lady. She wants a porterhouse steak with the tail trimmed. Two loaves of bread. A pound of butter. Cash or charge? The next customer: "My car is out by the gas tanks. I want ten gallons of gas, please. And check the oil." (at one time during the gas war I sold gasoline at six cents per gallon.) The next customer: "A pack of Camel cigarettes." Next: "I was looking at that fish pole over there — the bamboo trout rod. Is that the best price you can give me?" (He bought it.) Next customer: "I want a pair of shoes for my youngest son. He wears size five." (You wait on him.) Next: "I want a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich and a cup of coffee, please."

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Next customer: "I want to join the Erskine Preserve." Next person: " Any mail for me?" Next: "I want a half a pound of baloney, sliced thin. And a jar of dill pickles." Then I see my son come in. "What do you want, Louis?" "I want a vanilla ice cream cone. And charge it to Pop." He smiles. This is the way the business ran day in and day out. And I have heard people say, "Louis, now I know why you turned gray so young." The busiest day of the year was always on the Fourth of July, weather permitting. And if weather was bad, it would be on the following Sunday. One of my steady customers was an elderly man — his name was Harry Vreeland. He had a large family and he had some of his grandchildren living with him. It was always a pleasure to wait on him 'cause he knew what he wanted. He would come in and he would ask me, "Do you have any potatoes today?" "How much you want, Mr. Vreeland?" "Gimme ten bags." (That is a thousand pounds!) "You got any flour?" "Gimme ten bags." (@ 24 lb each that's 240 pounds of flour.) "You got any plate beef in today?" "Yes." "Gimme a whole plate. Cut it through the ribs." (Plates run about 40 lb. per plate.) "Gimme two six pound chuck roasts. And twelve packages of Allen Dunning tobacco." I had a standing order from him: Eight loaves of bread daily. He always paid cash. And he was my customer as long as I stayed at the Country Store. One day a man walked in the store and he looked at me somewhat puzzled as over the door it said "YE OLD COUNTRY STORE". He says, "is this the Ringwood Company store?" I said, "Yessir." He said, "Oh my God!" I asked him: "What's the problem?" He said, "I came from Chicago. I am a bulk salesman for the Proctor and Gamble Soap Company. I sell railroad cars full of soap powder, soaps, and by-products from our company. And as I stand here, I see that this is impossible. The reason for coming and contacting you is that, according to the Dunn and Bradstreet Reports, the Ringwood Company store has the highest credit rating of any store in the State of New Jersey." It was widely known in the business world that the Ringwood Company bills were always paid and guaranteed cash within ten days less two percent. One of my customers was a man named William John Van Dunk. He lived up in the Long Pond furnace area. His house was the closest house to the furnace. He was born there and lived there all his life. He was a good customer of mine. He nickname was "Grampop." Everybody called him "Grampop." He was a woodsman — a wood chopper. That's how he earned his living all through his early years — cutting cord wood. A cord of wood measures four feet by four feet by eight feet. And it was not unusual for Grampop to cut two cords of wood in a day — most always a cord and a half. This is a terrific day's work. Every time he'd swing the axe a chip would fly. He was known through the Valley as a great wood chopper. One day Grampop went into the woods and he had fallen the trees. He had them trimmed

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out. And he started cutting them into four foot lengths. This was around noontime and he stopped to have a bite to eat. And who came in but Sommer Stites. He was sent there by the Ringwood Company to ask John if he would compete as the world's champion wood chopper would challenge anybody and they would chop at Pompton Lakes in the afternoon. There was only one condition: That you could not use a Plumb axe. This didn't bother Grampop 'cause he always used a Kelly axe. John agreed to go. So down to Pompton Lakes they went. The logs were placed. Grampop lost! He lost by two seconds! And it is well known among the people that if John hadn't had half a day's work behind him and was fresh at the contest, he surely would have won. One day about mid-morning two strange young fellows walked in. And I asked could I help them? The one fellow says, "Yes. I want a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes." And he took a fifty cent coin, and he laid it on my charge pad. I spotted it. It was a lead coin. I left it lay. I rung up twenty cents for sale of cigarettes, and I gave him thirty cents in change. Then his buddy spoke up. He says, "I want a pack of Camels." I got it and he gave me a dollar bill. I rung up twenty cents, I took thirty cents out of the cash register, I put it on the pad with the lead half, and I shoved it off on him. That's when a small war started. They got into a fight. I had fooled them. The green house just south of the Country Store is now known as the Stephens House. The Ringwood Company approached me and told me, if I could make arrangements to purchase that property, they would buy it and I could go there to live. This was a much better home than where I was living. I went down to Wayne and I found the owner, Miss Edith Laird. It was left to her by her brother, Frank. I told her that the Ringwood Company was interested in buying it and asked her if she had an asking price. The property was approximately two acres. It had a spring on it from which they got their own water. She gave me a figure of seven thousand dollars and she would sell it. She would prefer to sell it to the Ringwood Company because she knew that they would take care of it. I came back and I reported this to the Company. The Company purchased the property. And it was July the tenth in 1947 that I moved from the little house down to the Stephens House. The original part of this house was built in 1814. It wasn't much larger than a large one-room building. All hand-hewn timbers, and so forth. In the cellar you could see the old stone work and the timbers. The building had many additions on it. It seemed that every so often they would add something. It was a kind of a complicated structure on the inside. But it was a comfortable old home. No one knows who built the building. But according to my records, around the turn of the century, in the nineteen hundreds, the Stephens family lived there. So May and I lived there until the Ringwood Company came to the end. One day Eric Arnold came in. He came in to see me about the church across the street. Eric Arnold was the station master at the Hewitt railroad station. He was there until the end of the railroad era on the Greenwood Lake Line. He wanted to know if the little church across the street was for sale or if it could be bought as The House Of God, the litde church in West Milford, wanted to buy it. But they also wanted to buy a piece of property along side of that. I told them I didn't know, but I'd do what I can to find out for them.

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I wrote to the Methodist Diocese in Newark and I got a nice reply. They said, yes, they would sell it. They would sell it for one hundred dollars as long as the building would be used for a church. I took this information and gave it to the Ringwood Company. The Ringwood Company contacted Mr. Arnold and an agreement was made: That the Ringwood Company would buy the church for $100, keep it twenty-four hours (it would be their property then) and the following day they'd add on the property and give them the property they wanted along with the church. Therefore, they'd only have one deed. So this took place. And approximately six months later the church received a gift of one hundred dollars. As you may realize my customers were like the crossroads of the people: From the hobo going through town, the mountain people, the local people, and the elite, they were all my customers. Among them were some people who were noted in my era. I will say that one of my biggest surprises that I ever received from a notable person was the day this gentleman walked in and he was eyeing the store over. He come up to me and he introduced himself, He says, "I am Cecil B. DeMille from Hollywood, California." Well, of course, immediately I knew. He spoke about his childhood days that he had spent in West Milford. And while he was going by he couldn't help to see this old English type building. He just felt that he had to stop and come in. He well remembered, long before the Country Store was built, when he saw the old Hasendever building still standing. This was the biggest surprise of a celebrity that I ever had. My neighbor who lived right down the road from me, he lived in the log cabin across from the Wanaque Valley Inn, was a man named George Herman Ruth. Babe Ruth! The King of Swat! He was to my store almost every day. Joe Louis, the Heavy Weight Champion of the World. Every once in awhile he would stop in. He would a have dish of ice cream. There were other pugilists who trained at Greenwood Lake: Willy Pep, Tippy Larkin, and Frankie Genaro, the Flyweight Champion of the World who lived at Sterling Forest, New York. And there was Nicholas Eggenhoffer, a noted western artist, Ronald McKenzie, a noted com- mercial artist, Nick Kenny, a poet. He was associated with the New York Daily Mirror newspaper. And there was Erskine Hewitt, Ogden B. Hewitt, and Norvin H. Green. It was mid-December in the year of 1954. There were strong rumors that Norvin Green was giving the Ringwood Company and all its holdings to Columbia University as a gift. We were concerned. I had twenty-seven years with this company. It was on the morning of December the thirty-first at ten o'clock that I received a telephone call: To have my cash, accounts receivable, and all data pertaining to the Ringwood Company available. And it would be picked up at eleven AM. And I could close the store at any time I wished. And I would be free to do as I pleased. I closed the door at twelve Noon. Hewitt's Long Pond was over. Hewitt's Empire has come to the end.

Louts P. West, Sr. August, 1994

98 Chapter 16: Visions of the Past

99 PETES COOPER

1791 - 1883

"When I was born, not a single free school, either by day or night, existed. Not a single steam engine had been built or erected on the American continent, and the people were dressed in homespun, and were characterized by the simple virtues and habits usually associated with that primitive garb. I have witnessed and taken a deep interest in every step of the marvelous development and progress which characterized this century beyond all the centuries which have gone before.

"Measured by the achievements of the years I have seen, I am one of the oldest men who ever lived; but I do not feel old, and I propose to give the recipe by which I have preserved my youth.

"I have always given a friendly welcome to new ideas, and I have endeavored not to feel too old to learn, and thus, though I stand here with the snows of so many winters upon my head, my faith in human nature, my belief in progress of man to a better social condition, and especially my trust in the ability of men to establish and maintain self-government are as fresh and as young as when I began to travel the path of life."

From, a speech delivered several years Louts P Wett before Fits death at the age of 92- Collection

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