June 5, 1963
Wednesday, mostly sunny and warmer, 75. I finished cleaning front room. Had a headache and upset stomach again, didn’t feel good all day. Sue went home with Becky and Carol went to band picnic at Nickerson's Grove at night. Gerald went to party at Cobleskill at night. Wrote and sent rest of Taylor anniversary cards.
Comment: Nickerson's Grove was a camping-picnic area developed on the Schoharie Creek along Stryker Road in Gilboa. The big challenge at Nickerson's Grove was to jump off the rocks into the Schoharie Creek. Not sure how high the jump was but must have been 30 feet or so. I don't remember ever doing it. Ford Nickerson worked for years on an automated barn cleaner using hydraulically powered paddles instead of continuous chains. Not sure he patented it. DeLaval and Jamesway are apparently still making them according to Google search.
 |
| Schoharie Creek Rock Ledges |
Arvilla Nickerson was my 2nd grade teacher and was very strict and also was a big fan of corporal punishment. She had a medium-sized wooden panel that she would not hesitate to use on the kids. I saw her once completely lose it and beat hell of of Eddy Brainerd until she broke the paddle on his shoulder and then she stopped. She would be arrested now if she did it and it would be well deserved....this is how the rocks along the creek kinda looked at Nickerson's grove.....
2 comments:
Interesting how certain words or names like "Stryker" must ring different bells in the minds of the generations, and of the ones who were close to and far from the action. To me, the word, "Stryker" conjures vague images of one, Maxi, and his big rig. He took me for a ride in it one day, and I've never seen him since. The name further causes me to recall my brother Craig's first drunken night, at 12 years, at a party at the Stryker house many years ago. It is hard to believe that those times are are gone, with no chance of returning - but the memories and the possibilities they hold for future family gatherings are beautiful and truly splendid.
Interesting how certain words or names like "Stryker" must ring different bells in the minds of the generations, and of the ones who were close to and far from the action. To me, the word, "Stryker" conjures vague images of one, Maxi, and his big rig. He took me for a ride in it one day, and I've never seen him since. The name further causes me to recall my brother Craig's first drunken night, at 12 years, at a party at the Stryker house many years ago. It is hard to believe that those times are are gone, with no chance of returning - but the memories and the possibilities they hold for future family gatherings are beautiful and truly splendid.
Post a Comment