►Drs. weil, knigHt anD stein get new appointments at bassett Medical Center

A farewell to Bob Schlather, businessman, philanthropist

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Overall, Bob gave thousands of hours to the company as it grew to achieve national and international renown. He helped Glimmerglass move from its original home in the Cooperstown High School to the Alice Busch Opera Theater. He found, secured, negotiated and helped fund the Festival’s much-needed warehouse and rehearsal hall in the Town of Warren, and made possible a gift of property in Richfield Springs to help with its daunting summer housing needs. Every spring, Bob would ask which of the upcoming summer’s Festival dates were undersold and would then would help fill those seats through a win-win invention of his own by hosting Bassett Healthcare nights, through which hospital employees would enjoy the perks of an evening at the Opera, replete with a pre-curtain party, underwritten by Schlather & Birch.

Fellow Trustee Judy Freedman reflected on her admiration of Bob and how he and her husband, Allen, teamed-up to keep the company seamlessly running during a gap in staff leadership in the early 2000s. “Without Bob, Glimmerglass would not be what it is. He represented Glimmerglass in all its real estate activities, always looking to the future. When there was a staff leadership hiatus and Allen offered to run the company pro bono, it was Bob, also pro bono, who joined Allen as liaison to the Board, no small feat. It will be hard to imagine the Glimmerglass Board of Trustees without Robert Schlather.”

In February, in recognition of his extraordinary service and exceptional contributions, the Board named Bob an Honorary Life Trustee, the highest honor a trustee can ever receive.

It is fitting that, as part of Bob’s Glimmerglass Festival legacy, his and Karen’s son, R.B. Schlather, took a delightful “star turn” as a young Mozart in La Finta Giardiniera (The Pretend Gardener) in 1996, when R.B. was still in elementary school. Delighted by this experience, and wholeheartedly encouraged and supported by his parents, R.B. created his own youth production company while still in middle and high school and then went on to become internationally respected as an opera director in his own right.

Glimmerglass Festival Artistic & General Director, Francesca Zambello, expressed the feelings of the entire company: “We are extremely grateful that Glimmerglass was a beneficiary of Bob’s and his family’s passion for our work and mission, which they expressed with vigor, intelligence, talent, creativity, kindness, generosity and, most importantly, joy.”

The Glimmerglass Festival

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My law partner of 36 years, Bob Schlather was like a sage older brother. He was the type of mentor all young attorneys seek, but few find. I was 27 when Bob invited me to join his growing practice in Cooperstown; my wife, Marcy, our two sons, and I will be forever in his debt. Not only did he share with me his incredible knowledge of trusts, estates, and business law, but through his example, he taught me the importance of giving back to the community we serve. Bob was a testament to the impact one good man can have on his community. The many philanthropic and cultural organizations he nurtured in life will continue to enrich our community for years to come. For that, I say “job well done!” Godspeed, my friend.

Bob Birch

Schlather & Birch

Bob Schlather was the consummate gentleman and a truly committed philanthropist. I had the distinct honor of working closely with Bob during his long tenure on the Board of the Friends of Bassett, and with several non-profit organizations where he was actively engaged. Despite his significant professional commitments as both an attorney and accountant, Bob always found time to answer the call as a volunteer leader and role model for fellow Board members. He was an extremely generous donor to countless local organizations, always careful to put the mission ahead of any personal recognition. He will be sorely missed.

Mike Stein

Cooperstown

Could we find anyone who better personified a devoted citizen and pillar of a community? He helped to advance every cause and group he served, and they were countless. Bob never only had his name on a board. He worked, gave his time, set standards.

He served his clients with integrity and skill. He was a true friend to a small army of us. The fortunes of Cooperstown and the region brightened the day he and his Karen arrived. He was a gift to us, a blessing.

Tom Morgan and Erna Morgan McReynolds

Franklin

It was a blessing to know Robert B. Schlather — attorney, accountant, non-profit leader, and community champion. His generous spirit and mentorship helped many area organizations thrive, and his lifetime’s work benefited our quality of life.

Knowledgeable and invested, Bob’s commitment to Otsego County carried through to Pathfinder Village, where he supported fundraisers, provided legal services, and hosted workshops on estate planning. He listened to the heartfelt stories of Pathfinder families; he counseled them about guardianship and financial arrangements, essential steps that have helped people with intellectual disabilities achieve rewarding, independent lives.

Our sincere condolences go to Bob’s friends and family; we will remember his legacy of altruism and his lifelong dedication to community service.

Paul C. Landers

Pathfinder Village

A member of the College’s Board of Trustees from 2000-2009, Bob served as Board vice chair, treasurer, and Audit & Compliance Committee chair. He also lent his keen insights and professional expertise to nine other Board committees, ranging from Education to Finance, Student Life to Governance, and Enrollment to Facilities.

Bob and his wife, Karen, generously supported Hartwick, most often making unrestricted gifts that enable the College to adapt and innovate.

The Hartwick College Community

Bob was a founding member of the Catskill Area Hospice and Palliative Care Foundation Board. He served as its Chair until 2021. Bob was deeply committed to making sure hospice care was available to our community. His contributions to CAHPC, now Helios Care, helped advance the mission of our organization and we are grateful for his commitment. Our thoughts are with his family and friends.

Dan Ayres

President and CEO of Helios Care

Effective April 4, Bassett Healthcare Network has undertaken a new administrative operating structure, with new hospital divisions established to redeploy resources. There have been no reductions in workforce; rather, administrative adjustments will enable the network to operate more efficiently. As such, Bassett’s hospital organization structure is now divided functionally into three areas: Bassett Medical Center, A.O. Fox Hospital, and Critical Access Hospitals (Cobleskill Regional Hospital, Little Falls Hospital, and O’Connor Hospital).

Newly appointed executive leadership roles include Dr. Henry Weil, who has been named senior vice president, chief clinical officer of Bassett Healthcare Network in addition to his tenure as chief academic officer; Dr. Reginald Knight, who has transitioned to chief hospital executive of A.O. Fox Hospital; and Eric Stein, who has transitioned to chief hospital executive of Bassett’s Critical Access Hospitals.

Dr. Henry Weil Dr. Reginald Knight Eric Stein

CANO exhibit features local landscape paintings

Visits to Otsego County, featuring the paintings of artists Melissa Borko Tevere and Marc Pelletier, opens at CANO in Oneonta, on Friday, May 6 with a reception from 5 to 8 p.m. Marc’s primary residence is in Williamsburg, N.Y., while Melissa calls Philadelphia home — but both are frequent visitors to Otsego County.

Ten years ago, Marc bought an historic home in Pleasant Brook. He spends his days there painting the local landscape in oils and watercolor. His paintings attempt to capture the everchanging Upstate weather.

Melissa has known Marc for 25 years and shares his love for painting. In addition to small, acrylic, plein air paintings, her Otsego County portfolio includes larger studio work, where she combines painting and mixed media materials.

Visits to Otsego County offers a chance to see the area interpreted by two similar, but distinct, artists. The exhibit runs from May 6 to 21.

Preparations begin for the 2023 Winter Carnival

A theme has been chosen, ‘There’s S’now Place Like Home,’ and the dates set for February 10, 11 and 12, 2023. Look for more updates as we get closer to the winter season.

If you would like to help support this effort to bring some fun and warmth to the dark days of winter, can send donations to PO Box 912, Cooperstown, NY 13326 and make them out to the Cooperstown Winter Carnival.

Terry Berkson

Bunnies Don’t Crow

One Easter, when I was about nine years old, I bought six peeping chicks from the pet shop around the corner and secreted them under a 100-watt bulb in a cardboard box in the cellar.

“They’ll bring rats!” my aunt Edna shouted when she discovered them on a trip to the washing machine. Aunt Edna did most of the housekeeping and was always against bringing in any pets. I begged her to let me shelter them until the weather was warm enough for the chickens to live in a coop in our backyard. She reluctantly gave in, though not without a warning that if I didn’t move them in a couple of weeks, she would sweep them out of the cellar with her broom.

My chickens flourished, and within a few weeks they gave up their fluffy yellow feathers and peeping calls to take on white coats and deeper voices.

My dad told me that when the family had first moved to Brooklyn in 1919, my grandmother had raised a brood of 35 White Leghorns in a coop in our backyard. She had 10 children to feed, and the eggs, came in handy. I built a coop with wood and wire scavenged from the neighborhood. Meanwhile the young birds were eating a lot more. It soon took a week’s worth of deposit bottle money to buy feed from the poultry market.

Despite my high hopes, disappointment followed. My chickens weren’t affectionate like puppies or kittens. All they did was eat and they pecked at everything — even each other. If one got loose, which was often, it would trot around the yard in a frenzied, long-legged hysteria, trying to dodge me, the one who nursed and fed it and built its house.

By summer, all the red combs on top of the chickens’ heads were getting big, which meant they were all males. Gone was the hope that one day I’d be walking out to the coop like my grandmother with basket in hand to gather fresh eggs. However, I was determined not to lose to Aunt Edna by getting “rid of them.”

About the middle of August is when the trouble really started. I was shaken from a deep sleep by a terrible noise. It wasn’t cats yowling in the alley, or Woodlock the baker next door, home from work and fighting with his wife. I got out of bed and went to the window. It was near morning. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but the highest tips of the willow tree were beginning to take on a golden glow. Then I heard it again, the whole sound this time. It was just like in a cartoon, a clear, fullthroated “cock-a-doodle-doo!”

First one rooster, then another, and another. They seemed to be trying to outdoodledoo each other — and resurrecting all of Bensonhurst in the process. Lights went on in the apartment house next door. “What the Henry J was that!” someone shouted. I moved behind the curtain.

After breakfast, I went out to feed my chickens. Several people in the apartment house next door were looking at me, arms resting on their windowsills, perched like hawks, but no one said anything. The roosters’ combs seemed bigger. The next morning, before daybreak, all six birds started wailing at the same time making the racket twice as loud as the day before. I lay in my bed and heard windows being slammed closed. “Lousy chickens!” someone yelled. “They’re against the law!” Then Aunt Edna was knocking on my door to tell me the roosters woke up Uncle Dave, who had just gone to sleep after driving the night shift on a taxicab.

I tried sneaking out to the coop the next morning by walking along the fence and then the hedges, but a chorus of neighbor complaints greeted me. “You have to do something about those chickens,” called Mrs. Adleman from her ground floor window. “They woke me too,” Mrs. Esposito shouted from the second floor. “I’m notifying the Board of Health!” boomed Woodlock the baker from the top floor. “I need my sleep!”

I tried blindfolding the birds so they wouldn’t know when it was morning — but they wangled out of anything I tied around their heads. There was a tin cabinet in the shed in the corner of the backyard; it had six shelves. That night I put the roosters in the dark cabinet inside the shed with a piece of cardboard over the window. They wouldn’t see the light of day until I wanted them to.

About 5:30 the next morning, all six roosters began to crow. The noise was slightly muffled, but the metal cabinet made their calls sound like muted trumpets giving them a spiteful tone. The result was an even more annoying racket. The shouting started again: “I’m calling the police! Shut them chickens up or I’ll shoot em.”

I couldn’t understand it. Maybe there was a light leak. But, between the crowing and the neighbors’ yelling my head began to ache. Then Uncle Dave came stomping down the stairs and burst through my door with his eyes bulging and his nose almost touching mine. “Get rid of them chickens!” he growled.

Later that morning I loaded the six troublemakers into a crate I had put on my wagon. Then I made the lonely walk to the end of West Sixth Street where I sold the roosters to a bearded, white-coated man at the poultry market. I felt guilty and relieved as I left the store. Now, peace would be restored. With my empty wagon in tow I wondered why pet shops sold chickens at Easter time. Maybe it was because they had something to do with waking up.

I also wondered why bunnies got all the credit for Easter eggs. Maybe it was because they behaved and didn’t make any noise.

So, on my way home, with the money the poultry man paid me feeling warm in my pocket, I headed in the direction of a pet shop on McDonald Avenue. There was a pair of rabbits I’d had my eye on for a while. Bunnies don’t crow, I thought. What could Aunt Edna say? Having them for pets wouldn’t cause any trouble.