SSIRP Hires Preservation Architects Crawford & Stearns

Press Release

November 6, 2013, Sherburne, New York: Save The Sherburne Inn Restoration Project, Inc. (SSIRP), the nonprofit organization formed in January to save the historic Sherburne Inn, announced today that it has retained preservation architects Crawford & Stearns, of Syracuse (crawfordstearns.com).

It was a challenging decision," SSIRP President Kathleen Yasas said. "We received bids from four architectural firms and all presented outstanding services. In the end, however, the SSIRP board felt that Crawford & Stearns was the best fit."

Crawford & Stearns, founded in 1979, focuses on preservation of architecturally, historically, and culturally significant resources. The firm's expertise is vast, and includes main street and downtown revitalization programs and local landmark preservation.

Architect and partner Randy Crawford, with whom SSIRP will be working closely, is a licensed architect with an advanced degree in the history of architecture. He is qualified under Federal 36 CFR requirements to practice architecture, architectural history, and historic architecture, and has been in private practice for over 35 years. His principal expertise and experience lie in the areas of historic preservation planning and design review, small town revitalization, and commercial revitalization with a particular emphasis on the sympathetic adaptive reuse of historic properties. Mr. Crawford is a frequent speaker on various aspects of historic preservation and has served on the boards of several professional, private, and public boards including the Preservation League of New York State, the Regional Council of Historical Agencies, and the New York Chapter of the Association for Preservation Technology.

"We're thrilled to be working with SSIRP on restoring The Sherburne Inn," Mr. Crawford said. "We think SSIRP's vision is great for the community. This building is an important local landmark, and we at Crawford & Stearns feel its rehabilitation will help revitalize the entire region."

Successful projects require accurate on-site investigation and documentation, the sensitive accommodations of applicable building codes and life safety standards, the incorporation of specific spatial and programmatic needs established by those using the building as well as by various funding and regulatory agencies, the incorporation of environmentally responsible and sustainable design principles, provisions for handicapped accessibility, and an awareness of the physical limitations inherent with an existing structure, as well as the appropriate treatment of historically and architecturally significant features. Crawford & Stearns' partners and senior staff have actively pursued advanced studies in both academic and practical applications and are associated with professional organizations committed to these principles.

"We're looking forward to kicking off the planning stage of this project and working with C/S to bring back a commercial establishment that means so much to our village, "Ms. Yasas said. "SSIRP's goal is not only to save an historic landmark, but to encourage economic development in Sherburne."

The Sherburne Inn, which opened its doors for the first time in 1917 as a hotel and restaurant, has been a mainstay on Sherburne's anchor corner for almost 100 years. In late 2012, the building was threatened by demolition when a chain store proposed to buy The Inn and an adjacent historic building, tear both down, and erect in their place an all-night convenience shop and gas station. SSIRP negotiated an alternative plan with then-owner and local businessman Jim Webb, and purchased The Inn on April 25, 2013.

Good (and haunted) Times At The Earlville Opera House

I just adore Halloween. As a kid I loved dressing up as a witch or a ghost on this one day a year and heading out to trick-or-treat. Maybe I should have been an actress, so much do I get into the taking on of a different persona from the one I have 364 other days. I admit, I may have carried on a bit too much in my teens without benefit of costume, running around the park throwing eggs at classmates and getting squirted with chocolate syrup. We didn't vandalize, didn't steal pumpkins, didn't really cause any trouble. I suspect adults back then peered out windows and wondered if we would misbehave in a big way. We didn't. We just had fun, after which I went home late and washed eggshells out of my hair, the only victim of my night's events being a ruined pair of Hershey's- and yolk-soaked suede shoes.

Now I'm sort of old. Not exactly old, but...you know...older. Ah, but only older chronologically. My little Halloween heart remains young: I still like dressing up, although I admit eggs and chocolate are no longer in favor. And this year I got my Halloween fix early, at The Earlville Opera House.

For those of you who don't know (and who should mark it down on your calendar for next year), the wonderful opera house sponsors an annual haunted house night, free of charge. Dodie Page, of Black Cat Antiques in Earlville, and opera house executive director Patti Lockwood-Blais, put together a delightfully haunted evening at the opera house every Halloween. Last Saturday I was invited to participate as one of the volunteer ghouls. I couldn't wait...could...not...wait...and when Saturday afternoon rolled around I was in front of my mirror, globbing on black make-up and fluffing the wonderful ghastly hilarious horrible long black wig that I reserve for such occasions. There were still plastic spiders in the wig from last year, which of course I left in place. I smeared on blood-red lipstick, donned pointed shoes, selected one of the many masks that I keep in my special Halloween trunk, and roared off to Earlville, where I spent several spook-filled hours trying my best to scare the wits out of kids and adults alike.

Dodie and Patti deserve high praise. The historic opera house -- complete with skeletal piano players and eerie organ music and graveyard scenes -- did not disappoint. I was stationed in "the wedding reception" room, where table displays included nuptial treats like severed hands and rodent hors d'oeuvres.  I drifted among ghostly manikins, freezing when kids and teens and parents arrived, causing them to wonder if I was fake or real, and ultimately reaching out to touch an arm belonging to someone who shrieked in surprise. A few children ran away, wailing and strangely delighted. One young fellow, enjoying the festivities so much, kept going round and round, finally admitting that he'd traveled from lower floor to upper 21 times. Breaking character, I asked him, "WHY are you here again??" He said, "This is fantastic! This is so much fun!! I want to volunteer as an actor next year!!!"

Good for you, kid. And good for Dodie and Patti and all the other adults who showed up in costume. This is exactly what we want, for kids to participate in good clean fun.

How many times, I wonder, have I said that I love a city life? This life, however -- this rural life -- is so much more rewarding. Putting on a black wig and shuffling off to a place where people work hard to thrill some kids on Halloween. For free. Oh sure, there was a donation box, but that wasn't really the point. The point was to open doors to a fabulous, historic building that the rest of the year features art and music, a place where people spend weeks in October setting up scary creepy scenes to thrill and delight families, to make memories for children who will look back someday and remember The Earlville Opera House and say, "Wow, that was something really special." 

Both Patti and Dodie called me today and thanked me for showing up. Ladies, it was my pleasure. And please, put me on the list of October 2014.

I'm looking forward to seeing that 21-time kid next year. He got it, like I did 40+ years ago. Halloween isn't about stealing pumpkins or causing trouble. It's about good clean (scary) fun. Is that corny? Maybe. Probably. And so what? In my book, corny is a good thing. A fine and wholesome thing. In fact, in these strange days of violence and arguing and destruction, I'll take take fine and wholesome and corny all day long.

Kudos to The Earlville Opera House, and to all its volunteers. Thank you for taking time away from your regular lives just to give our kids such a good time.

The Sherburne Inn: One Year Down

A year ago yesterday, there was a very good chance that The Sherburne Inn, the century-old landmark located in the heart of Sherburne's downtown historic district, would be torn down and replaced by a convenience store and gas station. Twenty-four hours later -- a year ago today -- Save The Sherburne Inn Restoration Project signed a purchase agreement to buy the building.

It's been quite a year.

In just 12 months, SSIRP has:

- confirmed that The Sherburne Inn is listed on the National Register of Historic Places;
- incorporated as a nonprofit, and received nonprofit status, thereby allowing individuals and corporations tax deductible contributions to saving The Inn;
- formed a nine-member volunteer board of directors;
- secured legal and financial counsel;
- raised $165,000 to buy The Inn, purchase of which was finalized on April 25;
- launched a community fundraising campaign that raised more than $25,000;
- launched a website (thesherburneinn.org) and a Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/SaveTheSherburneInnRestorationProject);
- applied for, and received, a $50,000 grant from the Howard K. Finch Memorial Fund;
- applied for other grants, both local and state, results of which are pending;
- received dozens of letters of support from local, regional, and state politicians, from area business leaders, and from individuals in the community;
- met with Senator James Seward, who toured the building and commended our vision and our progress;
- been recognized by The National Trust for Historic Preservation on its blog, Preservation Nation http://blog.preservationnation.org/2013/04/10/the-sherburne-inn-how-one-community-is-keeping-a-local-landmark-alive/; The National Trust intends to follow our progress, possibly in the nationally distributed publication, Preservation, going forward. The National Trust also advised that SSIRP is doing what The Trust encourages all citizens to do when historic treasures are threatened -- that is, rise up and take action;
- presented its vision to area businesses, service organizations, and village and town representatives;
- produced a video about the project, with the help of the Chenango County Chamber of Commerce and Krazed Kat Media;
- launched an Indiegogo Internet fundraising campaign http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/save-the-sherburne-inn-restoration-project/x/3945800; (the campaign ends today);
- been featured on Mohawk Valley Living http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7RNi3k7QB0&feature=youtu.be&t=11m27s

SSIRP also has a sister organization, The INNsiders, which is collecting oral and written history about The Inn, with plans to publish. If you have a special memory about The Inn and would like to have it included with other INNsider memories, please visit our website and share your story.

These are the highlights of the last year, and we hope to have some exciting announcements in the coming months with regard to fundraising, professional consultants, and potential affiliations. As I've said to many people, SSIRP may have appeared quiet; but we've been very busy behind the scenes building a solid foundation for this project. It is a step-by-step process, and the correct steps take time.

Small towns are wonderful in many ways. In other ways, however, they are...challenging. Unfounded rumors tend to circulate, and diner talk is bountiful. SSIRP board members have elected to ignore most of the rumors because, quite frankly, we're just too busy to worry about them. However, there is one rumor that requires clarification, so allow me to put it to rest once and for all: no matter what you may have heard, SSIRP is paying taxes on the building. Taxes are part of our operating budget, as are costs for insurance and utilities. Bear in mind as well that grant funding cannot be used for operating costs, making donations from businesses and individuals vital to keeping this train on the track.

To all of you who have supported us over the last year financially, as volunteers, and as our "cheerleaders," thank you! And to those who are still on the fence about our bringing back The Sherburne Inn, we hope to change your minds as work on the building begins, and the next year rolls out.

Sherburne is a wonderful community, and this is a wonderful community project. It's been a long, sometimes hard, and frequently remarkable year. We feel the best is yet to come.

Save The Sherburne Inn Tee Shirts On Sale

2013 Save The Sherburne Inn tee shirts are still available, but as the saying goes, once December's gone, they're gone.

SSIRP will introduce the 2014 tee shirt design in January in a new color, and with 2014 printed on the back.

Please order your Preserve History tee shirt today, and begin your collection of tees with the very first one. Cost is only $15 + $3 shipping and handling. Mail your check, made payable to SSIRP, to POB 1102, Sherburne, NY 13460, and be sure to include your full mailing address and size request (S, M, L, XL, XXL).

It's never too early to start Christmas shopping! Join Rudolph in helping to preserve The Sherburne Inn!!

If Thine Eye Be Evil...Get Yourself a Chain

I'll begin with this: I am so lucky to have my eyesight. I am blessed. I can see.

However...

Aging is really rather interesting. A few years ago the glasses thing started. Now I've worn glasses for distance for many years, and in fact segued to contacts while in college. My glasses -- the one pair I owned -- spent most of their time on my bedside table, used at night, from bed, if I wanted to see what was happening on the TV across the room. I'm near-sighted, and back in those glowing days of youth could both see far and read close with the contacts in.

But eyes, as we all know or eventually learn, change as we get older. Suddenly I wasn't able to read with my contacts in. I either had to take the lenses out to read, or wear drug store reading glasses with the contacts in place. I vaguely remember buying my first pair of readers. They were multi-colored and kind of funky. Okay, I said, this is cool. My funky reading glasses make me look, you know, funky.

Sadly, a snowball only rolls downhill.

I can't begin to guess how many pairs of prescription glasses and reading glasses I've gone through in the past few years. If I'm not wearing my contacts, the prescription glasses go on and off: on to see, off to read. Inevitably, I'll set the glasses down somewhere ...on the sofa, for example...then I'll walk away and have no idea where I've left them. My glasses were missing for an entire week over the summer, finally found on a living room side table where, apparently, I'd been puttering with a curtain rod and set the glasses down so I could see; or I'll return to the sofa and sit on them. I've rolled over onto my glasses in sleep. I've found glasses under the bed, under the chair, in the car, in the washer (yes, in the washer). Not only do I have glasses all over the house, I also have broken glasses all over the house, and single bows. And the lenses of glasses that have fallen out. I have been known to be chatting with someone only to have the lens of a cracked pair of glasses pop out and fall to the table like an errant marble eye. As a contact lens person for so long, I'm like a dog that was never house-trained. If I didn't learn to take care of business early, there was no hope later on.

I have resisted, at the risk of looking like an old woman, making use of the glasses chain, that thing old ladies wear around their necks so when they take the prescription glasses off they fall complacently to the bosom where they stay until needed again to watch the squirrel running up the tree outside, or whatever. Instead, I've gone to the "one-eye method." The one-eye method is wearing a single contact lens in my dominant eye, and no contact in the other. This took some getting used to. There was lots of blinking and dizziness. I'm pretty much there now after a year of the one-eye method, but frankly it's still not quite right, although I am now able to read a restaurant menu and see who I'm dining with at the same time. I can't really drive at night with the one-eye method, though, so I have to be sure to tuck prescription glasses into my purse, along with a contact lens case. And contact lens solution. And handi-wipes to clean off contact-inserting fingers. No longer can I bound into the car unfettered and drive off into the sunset. With aging comes details with which I am not happy to deal.

A younger friend of mine mentioned last night that she's starting to go through menopause, and it's bothering her: vertigo and hot flashes. I wanted to say hahahahahahaha. Wait until the glasses thing starts. Right now she wears hard contact lenses, maybe the only person left on earth who does. She only wears her prescription glasses at bedtime. I haven't yet noticed if she has reading glasses, but she will. My hot flashes have come and gone, but I tell you what: I'd take them back every day if I didn't have to finally take the big jump and buy the glasses chain. Which I did. Today.

Yes, I am blessed. I have the wisdom that comes with age. I brush away drama that in youth would have caused tears and hand-wringing. I have friendships that are rooted in longevity and trust. I have a roof over my head, a working car, a couple of bucks in the bank, a brain with synapses still firing, a job, a house-trained dog. Yes indeed, I am blessed in so many ways, most importantly because I can see. 

And what I can see is the location of my glasses. They are there, 12 inches or so below my traitorous eyes. Dangling at the bosom.

12 Years Later

12 years later...I woke up this morning, turned on the news, and saw my TV was tuned to the channel that is replaying the newscast from September 11, 2001. 

12 years later...I can still see the dashboard on my way to work, and the radio's digital face, when I heard that a second plane had hit the trade centers, realizing, alone in my car, that we were at war.

12 years later...the feeling of horror remains as I drove into the parking lot of my office on Long Island and saw, across the bay, the towers burning.

12 years later...remembering the telephone calls that day from friends I hadn't spoken with in years, frantic, asking if I was okay. And finding out that my California friend Jan, who was in New York for a meeting, was scheduled to be on flight 93 from Newark to San Francisco...two days later. If the terrorists had waited until Thursday, Jan's flight would have crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. Jan was lucky...and not so lucky. She was four months pregnant when she was visiting Manhattan on 9/11. She lost the baby, a little girl we think, who would now be 12 years old.

12 years later...I can still hear the sobs of the fireman in the bar that afternoon, where I and co-workers went to have a much-needed drink. I wonder about that fireman now, who had retired just weeks before from the New York City fire company from which every person was lost in the South Tower. 

12 years later...my stomach churns at the memory of the rumors: that a 747 was crossing the Atlantic with a nuclear bomb, headed for New York City; that dozens of planes had been hijacked; that some might have chemical and biological weapons on board. My stomach churns at the truth: of fighter jets flying over my office; of the news that the towers had collapsed; at my conversation with a doctor friend, who said he rushed to Bellevue Hospital to help, and had nothing to do because most of the victims were already dead.

12 years later...when I see video of those jets blasting into the trade centers, obliterating people who were sitting at their desks having a cup of coffee, I cannot...cannot...get my head around it. That, and the images of people jumping from a hundred stories high to get away from the flames, and the sound of their bodies hitting the pavement.

12 years later...I still hear the voice of Memphis friend Gloria's husband Ed, shouting in the background while I was on the phone with Gloria that the Pentagon had been hit. This morning Gloria sent me an email saying how 12 years later she can't believe she's still so raw about the 9/11 attacks.

12 years later, I'm still raw too. And I'm still crying on the date our world changed forever.

Endings; And The Beginning of Something New

Like a wolf on a hill, I raised my head and inhaled deeply.

"Fall is in the air," I told a friend yesterday.

"We'll have more warm days," he said.

Maybe. But not too many.

Sometimes in summer, we (of course) have cold spells. It gets chilly, maybe with rain, then the temps rise again. This time of year the feeling is different. There's an edge to the chill, one that warns to enjoy what warmth there is because soon there won't be much, and for a long stretch. When I got up this morning I felt the warning in my bones, pulling on socks and scurrying downstairs for hot coffee. The green of the trees isn't so bright today. Grass is crackling. My cats are twirling and yowling. Harry has burrowed into his bed. We aren't much different from the animals, we humans, since animals we are (some more than others). We all feel it, autumn getting ready to boot summer out on her sorry behind.

Change is a good thing. I'm redecorating my fireplace room with a new floor and new paint, new window coverings, new artwork on the walls. It's a disaster at the moment, but come October I'll huddle back there with friends near crackling wood, watching through the glass as plump orange leaves -- Mother Nature's sailboats -- drift lazily out of blue skies, foretelling snow.

The kids are back in school and Jack-o-Lanterns are only weeks away. Facebook friends are lighting wood stoves, another season winding down. It feels good to put on a sweater.

Enjoy every one of these days -- every one -- even when work and laundry and dishes and life's mania get in the way. Spend a few minutes -- every day -- to stop complaining and take a deep breath to acknowledge that at least this day is a fine one, because you just never know when your days will end for good.