The Olive Press - Follow Up on the News

Follow Up on the News

Internecine Battle?

The issue had been placed on the evening’s agenda prior to the meeting, but then withdrawn, as Olive supervisor Berndt Leifeld said, “because not everyone we wanted to have here could make it.”
Leifeld and his longstanding deputy supervisor and Coalition board member Bruce LaMonda added that the agenda discussion had been proposed following an October 27 preliminary meeting the two had called with the watershed region’s “impoundment towns” on October 27. The two explained that the term refers to those municipalities who host actual reservoirs, and don’t simply share watershed lands.
In addition to Olive, Marbletown and Hurley’s sharing of the Ashokan reservoir, the definition takes in eleven townships involving five other reservoirs.
Leifeld has said that he is seeking help not only from those towns, but also the Coalition and any other larger political entities that could help Olive’s current push to have the Large Parcel legislation passed in Albany three years ago changed to remove all mention of reservoirs.

The Large Parcel legislation allows those taxing entities that involve multiple municipalities to “equalize” the tax apportionment of shared taxable resources. The law, which Olive claims was flawed in its final enacted form, was utilized by both the Onteora School District and Ulster County in the current year, but has not been enacted, due to political pressures, for the coming year. Leifeld and LaMonda feel that by changing the law as it currently exists, they can keep things that way.
Although withdrawn from official discussion Monday night, talk was stiff hot enough to warrant Coalition President Pat Meehan to suggest that Leifeld, LaMonda, Shandaken supervisor (and Coalition member) Bob Cross, Jr. and Woodstock supervisor Jeremy Wilber “take their discussion outside and settle things there in the parking lot.”
“I’m not anxious to have it discussed,” Wilber opened the exchanges with, at which point Cross started into a rambling defense of the lw’s enaction, which he said “made a dramatic difference” in his town’s tax load.
“Maybe that will change when Dean Gitter’s project goes through and Olive wants some of your taxes,” Leifeld replied from the back of the room, standing up. “Bob, you better be glad I’m not in the town of Shandaken anymore.”
LaMonda spoke about a letter from the Large Parcel law’s sponsoring senator, William Larkin, that noted how reservoirs were not intended for its uses. He then pointed out how Cross, and Shandaken, were long overdue for a reval themselves.
Wilber asked the Coalition board to “serve” him should the issue come officially onto its agenda again, mentioning the “extensive research” he’d done into it.
“This involves an internecine battle between three towns in a school district,” he added. “This is not the Coalition of Watershed Town’s business.”
“This is not just the Onteora School District. This is not just three towns,” Leifeld relied, glowering in Wilber’s direction.
As the Woodstock supervisor left, saying it was time for his dinner, his town’s new councilman-elect, Chris Collins, asked whether Wilber’s was the only research available and whether the CWT would be taking a stand on Large Parcel.
Both LaMonda and Cross said they’d also done research and Meehan stated that the Coaliton would only take a position :”if asked by our member towns to get involved.”
A decision was reached to officially bring the issue back on to the CWT’s agenda, with the participation of other “impoundment towns” at its next meeting on December 19.

Behind Thanksgiving

The U.S. Congress, which automatically receives cost-of-living increases to their $165,000 salaries, rejected two bills calling for a minimum wage increase, further cut already slashed benefits to the needy and put a cherry on top on Friday, November 18, by voting themselves a $3,100 pay increase. It was such tiresome work that they decided to put off their work on more tax cuts and decreases in social programs with a two week vacation.
In the measures that were passed by the House, attempts to reduce the record deficits which have soared almost beyond imagination in the past five years took the form of reductions in Medicaid, student loans and other benefit programs, including food stamps. The problem is, as critics of the legislation have been quick to point out, studies have shown that hunger and "food insecurity" rose for the fifth straight year nationwide and the much lauded reduction of welfare programs under the Clinton Administration have produced no corresponding reductions in poverty levels. In fact, a recent report by the Anne E. Casey Foundation calculated that more than 25% of working American families can now be classified as low income and a survey on hunger and homelessness conducted by the Conference of Mayors in December of 2004 found that 34% of adults requesting emergency food assistance were employed.
"The area we’re in and everything that’s going on has shown us that there’s a real need for it," said Donna Van Kleeck of the food pantry program she coordinates at the Olivebridge United Methodist Church on Route 213. "Everybody’s got such high oil bills and there’s more and more people, it seems, that are losing their jobs. We’re here to serve people."
In October, when home heating costs were projected to break records, it was estimated that nearly 40 million households were in financial situations too delicate to absorb the growth in utility costs and the prospect of a choice between warmth and nourishment solidified for many. Double-digit increases in heating oil and gas have emerged for several years straight, doubling in average since 2000, and heating expenses in the Northeast are looking at a 35% increase this winter (and as much as 77% in the Midwest.) Add in the $700 million in food stamps just cut and you have a recipe to expand hunger in the most vulnerable segments of our society...children (who comprise more than half of food stamp recipients) and the elderly.
Among religious groups, the Methodists seem to be particularly active in attempts to address this problem in the upstate region and the Olivebridge church, under Pastor Ann Rossini, is seeking to expand its three-year-old program in the community.
"We accept deposits as well as withdrawals," noted Van Kleeck, who said that the food pantry- which is open to the public of any denomination 24 hours a day, 7 days a week- is a place where anyone who is able to bring a bag of groceries is as welcome to do so as someone in need is to pick one up- no questions asked. There are signs in the hallway entrance of the church with instructions for either action. Proceeds from their Mission Thrift Store at the site also help build the food bank, as does donations from parishioners (used to buy food least expensively in bulk) and proceeds from Saturday luncheons of bargain-priced homemade meals.
The church also receives food from the United Postal Workers food drives which gathers contributions of food from all over the county at the main office in Kingston where they are sorted and weighed for distribution to area food pantries.
"We have (food drives) once or twice a year, sometimes more," local mail carrier, Henry Needham explains. "Not at regular intervals but when the food banks begin to dry up, we try to help replenish them. This is one of those years where people have been giving a lot- with Katrina relief, the tsunami and other disasters. Food is in scarce supply and prices high but carriers still bring in bags that people hang on their mailboxes and we put them in boxes for the trucks to take to Kingston or Newburgh. I’ve seem 300 lbs come into the Mt. Tremper Post Office in one day. Some years, it’s very successful, others less so but it’s a volunteer thing through the post office. I have between 460 and 470 patrons and, if they know about it in advance, they’re very good. I don’t believe it’s any kind of official operation. I think the government says ‘yes, you can use our trucks to transport these goods for the good of the communities. It’s a generosity within the spirit of the postal service."
"It’s something that’s been going on for as long as I can remember," said Headmaster of Boy scout Troop 263, Bill Melvin, of the scout’s food drive. "I coordinate it for my troop and we belong to what is called the Rip Van Winkle Council, which is basically Ulster and Greene County, but I believe it’s a national program. Not every (Boy Scout) troop or (Cub) pack does it. Not every area necessarily has the organization that can."
Melvin said that in the 7 or 8 years he’s been involved in the drives, there hasn’t always been a local church group to provide distribution and the canned and dried goods returned in the bags delivered to residents by his scouts were taken to churches in Woodstock or Kingston but the desire was to provide help as locally as possible.
Another front against local hunger is being pressed through the town clerk’s office. The Olive "Meals-On-Wheels" program began in April of 1998 when a few senior citizens inquired if any services were available to those who faced difficulties in getting out to shop or prepare meals for themselves. Town Clerk Sylvia Rozzelle consulted with county agencies and found that if she could organize volunteers to deliver the meals to the individuals, the food could be provided through government programs for the ageing. She had it in operation within a week.
"It is a federally-funded program that we do here totally on a volunteer basis," Rozzelle explained. "It’s not a town clerk responsibility but we have the copy machine, fax and means to handle all the paper work that has to be done with it- documenting the mileage, deliveries per day, delivery scheduling and so on, so Susan and I do it through this office."
It starts with meals cooked early each weekday morning by Prestige Services, Inc., a government-contracted vending company with a facility in the old IBM complex in Kingston (Ulster?), which are sent out to various dispatching locations around the county in large containers. Those bound for Olive are taken to the Phoenicia Methodist Church on Tremper Avenue and broken down to individual meals with names of the recipients on them, carefully coded for restricted diets when required.
"Everyone gets a hot meal. Then there’s a sandwich bag with a cold meal- milk, juice, a piece of fruit, maybe a desert," Rozzelle detailed. "There’s a suggested donation of $2 a meal to cover coats but that’s not a strict requirement."
From Phoenicia, the meals are carted to an outdoor case at the town meeting hall with a sign that says "Meals Program. This is not a garbage bin!" to be picked up by the volunteer drivers and delivered to homes.
"I was disappointed that the information given to us at a town board meeting, when the Tongore Pines Senior Housing project was introduced, that we would be able to get an on-site lunch program kitchen for Prestige to bring the meals here directly, was inaccurate and didn’t materialize... that it wasn’t allowed ," Rozzelle said. "I always thought it kind of strange, since it is a federally-funded program with the county and HUD, that the two federal agencies couldn’t get together on that detail. One is senior housing and one is senior feeding, why not meet the twain? Because it wasn’t on the twack?"
Volunteer drivers are always needed but particularly in the winter when some of the regular drivers head south, Rozzelle pointed out, adding that those interested in volunteering or receiving the service should contact her at 657-2320 during office hours. Even if not on a regular one-day-a-week basis, back-up drivers are just as valuable to cover for illness, emergencies and vacations...Monday through Friday; 11:30 am to 1:30 pm. Brief training with a driver to learn the route, house by house, and signs to look for to ascertain that everything is alright at each location.
"It’s not just getting the meals but someone coming to the door and checking on you," Sylvia said. "Our drivers don’t like missing their deliveries. There’s just something very rewarding that you get for yourself in feeling like you’re making a difference, helping somebody that could use a little help."

Confusing For Seniors

Still, Roni and Steve want to marry. A wedding in the Catskills in a friend’s Lake Hill meadow, a party at La Duchesse Anne, music by Woodstock’s Slam Allen Blues Band. Fabulous. What they hadn’t considered was who would marry them. Secular Jews, they picked a Saturday afternoon, which cut out most rabbis, and they didn’t want anything Christian. Come to think of it, did they want a justice of some peace?
There they were with a wedding looming and no one to marry them.
Cut to a message on my voicemail: They just attended a wedding where a friend performed the ceremony. They loved it. Mel, my sister says, Steve and I want you to marry us.
Me – the Queen of Jewish Atheism and an anti-marriage lesbian to boot? My first impulse is No way. But I love these people. Besides I’m incredibly flattered. I suggest performing a ceremony, before or after which they go to a Justice of the Peace for the legalities., but Leslie reminds me of a friend who just went on line and got ordained and married friends of his. Apparently this is kosher
So armed with the $30 packet from the Universal Life Church, I prepare to officiate. I panic as it dawns on me that Roni and Steve have no idea what they want for a ceremony. I better become a serious wedding planner.
I begin reading through my poetry books, selecting one poem for me to read about sorrow and compassion (Naomi Shihab Nye, “Kindness”), another for Roni and Steve to read as part of their vows (Muriel Rukeyser, “Looking at Each Other”). I am prepared for “too heavy,” “too sexual”—but Roni and Steve are thrilled. This is starting to be fun.
The rest falls into place. Cousin Barbara makes matching garlands for Roni and Sophie Rose, her three-year-old granddaughter. She makes a tiny white pillow on which Sophie will carry the wedding rings (Sophie has begun calling herself Princess of the Rings). Leslie and I fashion the chuppah (wedding canopy) out of a beautiful purple scarf. Roni’s son and his wife, Steve’s stepson and his partner will hold the four poles. Roni and Steve will light candles for their dead beloved: Roni’s and my parents; Steve’s late wife; Roni’s adored friends Laura and Ellen, whose families will be present.
The day arrives. Leslie, a lifelong organizer of mass demonstrations has quietly emerged as the stage manager, such that Roni starts replying to all inquiries: “Ask Leslie.” The younger generation takes up their post as chuppah-holders. One hundred and twenty guests, all in place.
It begins. Laura’s son Noah plays a Bach Partita on the cello as we form a modest procession: first me and Leslie; then Steve’s family; then Princess Sophie of the Rings; at last Roni and Steve. I feel suddenly faint. “I’ll be right here,” Leslie tells me and I fall in love with her all over again.
As soon as I start to welcome everyone, faintness vanishes. I situate myself not as an agent of the state, church, or even synagogue, but as a representative of Roni and Steve’s communities, people who love them. Roni is already crying. She and Steve light the candles while Sophie Rose impromptu narrates: “Roni is lighting the candles. Now Steve is lighting the candles. Now they’re done lighting the candles.”
I read the poem linking kindness to love and to solidarity; I honor Roni’s teaching and Steve’s union leadership. Other voices join in celebration: Roni’s son names his mother “a retailer’s daughter who can spot a leather jacket in a window from a car going 40 miles an hour– in the rain.” and goes on to praise her scholarship, her devotion to him. Steve’s stepson tells how Steve first got him reading Marx, and talks of what Steve and Roni meant to him as a 15-year-old whose mother had recently died. “My mother would have been happy to see this,” he sobs along with all 120 guests. There will be time at the party for more speeches and celebration.
Then Roni and Steve read the Rukeyser poem, alternating lines, evoking a long relationship grounded in dailiness and intimacy. They repeat the simple vows they have written. Then the rings. The wineglass for Steve to stomp– a Jewish custom which is now mostly performed on wrapped light bulbs– you can count on them to break– and break it does. The kiss. Then – while I would have liked to say “by the authority vested in me by the internet”– I shout “Mazel Tov!!” and everyone bursts into Si-mon tov u-ma-zl tov u-ma-zl tov v’sim-mon tov clapping and stamping their feet.
Married! At this point my job is done, and those I represent– the community of people who love Roni and Steve– take over, serenade them with songs. Everyone seems to be floating on love.
Except Sophie Rose seems to think she married Roni. Each time Roni and Steve kiss, Sophie jumps up between them so she receives the kisses. When the dancing begins, she insists on her place in the bride’s arms as Roni, along with everyone else, dances up a storm to the blues music which so exemplifies the power, even the joy, of confronting sorrow head-on, thereby making space for love.

A Jar Of Olives

I Married My Sister...

Still, Roni and Steve want to marry. A wedding in the Catskills in a friend’s Lake Hill meadow, a party at La Duchesse Anne, music by Woodstock’s Slam Allen Blues Band. Fabulous. What they hadn’t considered was who would marry them. Secular Jews, they picked a Saturday afternoon, which cut out most rabbis, and they didn’t want anything Christian. Come to think of it, did they want a justice of some peace?
There they were with a wedding looming and no one to marry them.
Cut to a message on my voicemail: They just attended a wedding where a friend performed the ceremony. They loved it. Mel, my sister says, Steve and I want you to marry us.
Me – the Queen of Jewish Atheism and an anti-marriage lesbian to boot? My first impulse is No way. But I love these people. Besides I’m incredibly flattered. I suggest performing a ceremony, before or after which they go to a Justice of the Peace for the legalities., but Leslie reminds me of a friend who just went on line and got ordained and married friends of his. Apparently this is kosher
So armed with the $30 packet from the Universal Life Church, I prepare to officiate. I panic as it dawns on me that Roni and Steve have no idea what they want for a ceremony. I better become a serious wedding planner.
I begin reading through my poetry books, selecting one poem for me to read about sorrow and compassion (Naomi Shihab Nye, “Kindness”), another for Roni and Steve to read as part of their vows (Muriel Rukeyser, “Looking at Each Other”). I am prepared for “too heavy,” “too sexual”—but Roni and Steve are thrilled. This is starting to be fun.
The rest falls into place. Cousin Barbara makes matching garlands for Roni and Sophie Rose, her three-year-old granddaughter. She makes a tiny white pillow on which Sophie will carry the wedding rings (Sophie has begun calling herself Princess of the Rings). Leslie and I fashion the chuppah (wedding canopy) out of a beautiful purple scarf. Roni’s son and his wife, Steve’s stepson and his partner will hold the four poles. Roni and Steve will light candles for their dead beloved: Roni’s and my parents; Steve’s late wife; Roni’s adored friends Laura and Ellen, whose families will be present.
The day arrives. Leslie, a lifelong organizer of mass demonstrations has quietly emerged as the stage manager, such that Roni starts replying to all inquiries: “Ask Leslie.” The younger generation takes up their post as chuppah-holders. One hundred and twenty guests, all in place.
It begins. Laura’s son Noah plays a Bach Partita on the cello as we form a modest procession: first me and Leslie; then Steve’s family; then Princess Sophie of the Rings; at last Roni and Steve. I feel suddenly faint. “I’ll be right here,” Leslie tells me and I fall in love with her all over again.
As soon as I start to welcome everyone, faintness vanishes. I situate myself not as an agent of the state, church, or even synagogue, but as a representative of Roni and Steve’s communities, people who love them. Roni is already crying. She and Steve light the candles while Sophie Rose impromptu narrates: “Roni is lighting the candles. Now Steve is lighting the candles. Now they’re done lighting the candles.”
I read the poem linking kindness to love and to solidarity; I honor Roni’s teaching and Steve’s union leadership. Other voices join in celebration: Roni’s son names his mother “a retailer’s daughter who can spot a leather jacket in a window from a car going 40 miles an hour– in the rain.” and goes on to praise her scholarship, her devotion to him. Steve’s stepson tells how Steve first got him reading Marx, and talks of what Steve and Roni meant to him as a 15-year-old whose mother had recently died. “My mother would have been happy to see this,” he sobs along with all 120 guests. There will be time at the party for more speeches and celebration.
Then Roni and Steve read the Rukeyser poem, alternating lines, evoking a long relationship grounded in dailiness and intimacy. They repeat the simple vows they have written. Then the rings. The wineglass for Steve to stomp– a Jewish custom which is now mostly performed on wrapped light bulbs– you can count on them to break– and break it does. The kiss. Then – while I would have liked to say “by the authority vested in me by the internet”– I shout “Mazel Tov!!” and everyone bursts into Si-mon tov u-ma-zl tov u-ma-zl tov v’sim-mon tov clapping and stamping their feet.
Married! At this point my job is done, and those I represent– the community of people who love Roni and Steve– take over, serenade them with songs. Everyone seems to be floating on love.
Except Sophie Rose seems to think she married Roni. Each time Roni and Steve kiss, Sophie jumps up between them so she receives the kisses. When the dancing begins, she insists on her place in the bride’s arms as Roni, along with everyone else, dances up a storm to the blues music which so exemplifies the power, even the joy, of confronting sorrow head-on, thereby making space for love.

Memories Of Our Glory...

Boice answers what he can, but says that facts and details about the lives of those who died in the late nineteenth century are hard to come by. “I got one guy from Buffalo who keeps calling me up asking me all kinds of things about Phoenicia and if his great-great grandfather served in the Civil War,” Boice explains. “But when you start talking about anyone who died in Phoenicia in 1880, you’re stuck.” However, thanks to the efforts of Florence Giuliano, the board’s Treasurer, and her daughter Gina Giuliano, who serves as Secretary, it’s now a little easier to identify the veterans buried in Mt. Pleasant. As a result of their research, plaques bearing the name of the veterans, and, whenever possible, their military branches and the years and wars in which they served, are on permanent display in a glass case that hangs in the little barn at the edge of the cemetery. “The Board of Trustees thought it would be a nice way to honor the veterans, and Gina and I thoroughly enjoyed doing the research” says Giuliano. “Maybe because with what’s going on in Iraq and everyone is feeling patriotic. ” Getting the information for the plaques was not as easy as the Giulianos expected it would be. “I thought all we’d have to do to get this going, is to go to the VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars) and get a list of the people we get flags for,” Giuliano explains, referring to the tiny American flags that the American Legion puts on the graves of all known veterans on Memorial Day. But such a list was not available, so the Giulianos used the existing flags as a starting point and then searched through the entire cemetery, even sweeping away dirt to reveal more than one stone that had information about the veteran buried there. It turns out that five Civil War veterans, including Florence’s grandfather, Henry Russell Eckert, are buried at Mt. Pleasant. Originally named the Van Kleeck Cemetery, the cemetery was founded in 1909 by John Van Etten and John Van Kleeck as one of several new resting places for the graves displaced by the construction of the Ashokan Reservoir. There were nearly 40 cemeteries ranging from backyard graves to public burial grounds, and approximately 2,370 bodies had to be exhumed and moved. In 1921, the cemetery was sold and renamed the Mt. Pleasant Rural Cemetery and kept afloat on a small budget until 1941. For the next 8 years the cemetery remained in a state of limbo without a Board of Trustees until a new board was organized in 1949. Since then, the cemetery has been maintained and operated by its trustees and officers who are volunteers and do not get paid for their service. The plaques were designed and constructed by Louis Mancuso of Shokan and officially dedicated as a memorial on July 24, 2005. American Legion Post 1620 took part in the ceremony.