April 2008

        "Grandpa, Grandpa!  Are you in here?"

        The barn was dark with the big door closed.  It was December 8th.  There had been nothing but snow all day and now at 4:30 in the afternoon it was just about dark.

        "Grandpa!  Grandpa!"

        There was a rustling sound way over in the corner behind the cow stantions.

        "Here I am, over here."

        Molly's mooing almost drowned out Grandpa's words as he haltingly got to his feet with his arms full of bricks.

        "Look out!  Look out!  Molly's got her tail up!"

        Grandpa carefully stepped away from Molly's tail.

        "What are the bricks for, Grandpa?"

        "There's a hole in the floor over by the side door.  I got a couple strips of lumber to cover it and the bricks will hold them down.  The rats have been coming up through and this will help keep them out.  The cat's been so busy taken care of her new kittens, I don't believe she even saw any rats.  Say, what's that in your hand you're squeezin' so tight?"

        "Look Grandpa.  I found this when you sent me up in the loft to throw down a couple a blaes.  It was wedged way down between the petitions.  Look!"

        Grandpa's eyes bulged out behind his glasses.  They glistened as if he were about to cry.  He dropped the bricks on the floor.

        "In our loft?  How on earth could that be?  In our loft"  I can scarcely believe it.  Let me see.  Come on over by the lantern."

        Grandpa knelt down on one knee to get close to the lantern, so he could see the writing.

        "Oh my soul!  What do we have here?  Henry J. Gardiner!  I can't believe it!  It just isn't real!  Henry J. Gardiner, 1850.  Look, it's an account book that belonged to Mr. Gardiner.  I must be dreaming.  I got to be hallucinatin!"

        "Who on earth is Henry J. Gardiner? Who is he?  What did he do?  Why are you so excited?"

        "Excited!  Excited!  Why, I'm about ready to spread my wings and fly."

        "Com on, Grandpa, you're not going to fly!  You can't!  The big barn door is shut tight, and the side door is nailed shut because the hinge is broke.  Now, take a deep breath and tell me all about Henry J. Gardiner."

        Grandpa go up off his one knee position, pulled his shoulder back, straightened the hat on his head and went over and sat on a couple of hay bales.  As soon as he was seated, he raised his head, and his eyes seemed to be focused on the wall at the far end of the barn.  He just sat there staring at the delapidated wall.  It was so absolutely silent that the loud chirping of a cricket, crawling up one of the upright beams, echoed throughout the old building.

        "Grandpa!  What's the matter/  You look like you're frozen. What's wrong?"

        At the sound of my voice, Grandpa jumped as if someone had put an icy, wet towel on the back of his neck.  In fact, he jumped so vigorously he fell off the hay bale.  He got up quickly and was trying to pretend that he hadn't really landed on the floor, but a look of embarrassment still covered his face.

        "Come on, for goodness sakes.  Who was Henry J. Gardiner?"

        Grandpa looked up quickly and held the small book in front of his body, facing me, so I could see it.

        The name Henry J. Gardiner was printed in worn gold letters across the front.

        "I worked for Henry J. Gardiner when I was 26 years old.  That is the same date that's here on his book.  Boy, oh boy!  The memories are crowdin' my brain.  Memories, memories, memories.  Oh, to be young once more."

        "What's in the book, Grandpa?  Let me see it?"

        "Well.....it's called an account book.  He wrote all about his business. see what he wrote on the first page?  Mulbrenan and Haynes paid him $2.00 a trip for me and my team to take a giant load of paper from their mill here in Greenfield to another mill they had in Ballston Spa.  Then we had to bring back a huge load of rags."

        "Rags!  What the heck was the big load of rags used for?"

        "For making paper.  And sometimes, when Henry got mad, he'd have us go way down the dirt road to Rexford Flats and bring back rye straw.  He only paid us 2 1/2 cents for each bushel of straw we brought back.  That was just about enough to buy grain to feed my horses." 

        "I never heard of rye straw.  What's that for?"

        "Henry used that to make brown wrapping paper in his mill here in Greenfield."

        "How'd they make wrapping paper from straw?  Wasn't that a hard job to do?"

        "Well, the first thing we did with the straw was put it in a vat, a big tank, and add some lime water.  Then we heated it until it was to hot that steam formed.  That vat could not be opened for 12 hours.  Then the mixture was taken out and pressed into brown paper."

        "Wow, that sounds pretty hard to do and it took a long time, didn't it?"

        "Yup.  A half a day for each load.  And we always had some left over straw which didn't get "cooked", and all of this left-over stuff, which didn't get "cooked", was dumped right in the Kayaderosseras.  But it's lucky we only had to dump those giant vats in the creek about twice a year."

        "They must have been awful heavy.  How did you do it?"

        "All us mill workers got together to lift the vats and tip them sideways, so all the waste inside would fall in the stream."

        "What a job!  Did you like this work, Grandpa?"

        "Heck no!"  It was messy, heavy work every day, every week, every month and every year."

        "Then why did you keep doing it?"

        "Hey, we needed the money to buy food and clothes for your mother and the rest of the family."

        "Oh!"

        "Let me tell you something else about this job with Henry Gardiner."

        "Was it some different, hard work?"

        "No, no.  It's about the fish in the Creek."

        "The fish!  What ever happened to them?  Didn't they just swim along in the Creek and try to stay away from the fishermen an their poles an their bait?"

        Grandpa gave out a big loud laugh, grabbed the red kerchief from his pocket to wipe his nose, and pushed his hat farther back on his head.

        "We discovered very soon after we dumped the vats that somethin' happened to the fish.   We didn't really understand what it was at first.  But after we began to investigate, we discovered that after the lime water was dumped in the Creek, the fish went blind."

        "Blind?  How did you know they were blind?"

        "We used to take short sticks, give a fish one good, hard rap with the stick, and then we could pick it up by hand, carry it home and your Grandmother always fixed up a great fish supper."

        "But, how did you really know they were blind?"

        "They couldn't see the stick as we reached down and rapped them on their head.  If they could'a seen the sticks, wouldn't they swim away fast so we couldn't grab'em."

        "Gosh!  What a story!  Grandpa, can I take that book to bed with me so I can read some more about what happened her in Greenfield when you were young?"

        "If you promise to be careful with it and especially not let it slip down between those partitions in your room.  And be very careful with your lamp, so nothin' gets burned."

        "I promise!  I promise!  I'll be extra careful.  But I really do want to find out more about our mills.  I can't wait.  Can I give it back to you in the morning?"

        "Sure, that's fine!  You can tell me tomorrow about the Leggets, the Whistles, the boxboard and Mr. Balconi."