Solving History's Mysteries

By Paul Misko

There are many of us historians in the Catskills. Most of the time we toil in obscurity, sifting through fragments of texts, or re-examining faded photographs. We send and receive new discoveries to each other when we think it will help advance the work. Solving puzzles with newly acquired information is the rewarding part of the task and is even addictive. The biggest thrill for us is when we can reconnect something from the past, with somebody alive today. In this article I will relate two such occurrences.

I often hike in Woodland Valley; one of the many Catskill valleys, and usually disregard the paths and prefer to bushwhack as I explore. Years ago, an old-timer who was a neighbor led a hike up one of the side valleys and when we came upon a pile of stones, he informed us that this was the site of Doc Droogan’s shanty, which dated to the early 1900’s. For years afterwards, that information was passed along to other local hikers. Out of curiosity, I asked a friend to research Doc Droogan, and he turned up his obituary. It was brief but did mention that Dr. Joseph W. Droogan lived and worked in the Bronx, was the attending physician at an orphanage, and was an avid sportsman and writer. So now I had a person to go with the shanty site. A neat package. Not so fast! The story takes a turn. A few years pass, and while on another one of my pathless forays, I noticed an old “campsite,” along with some bits of metal and broken bottles, as well as a crumpled pile of stones. Whose campsite was this? I put this question on the ‘back burner’, as I was more interested in finding out about Doc Droogan. I pestered a friend to print out some New York State Droogans from the White Pages online, in the hope of contacting some of Doc’s descendants. One evening I began the cold calls of the numbers on the list, though with little hope of success. As the first person answered, I ran the obit details past them, and asked if they were related. The reply was a definite NO. I imagined dozens of calls would have to be made before I hit paydirt, but the third call was the charm. A pleasant woman answered, and with suspicion in her voice, confessed that she was indeed related to this Doc Droogan. We spoke but briefly, and I said I would call again on the weekend. On my follow-up call, she mentioned that her son had warned that “It might be a scam.” and “Don’t send him any money!” The warnings were both understandable, and amusing. I did eventually speak to the son, and we set up a date for me to drive over to meet the family, as they were eager to learn about Doc’s shanty site. They knew that he did have a camp in the Catskills but did not know where.

After arriving at their house, the great grandsons proceeded to pull out photos and artifacts of the increasingly interesting Doc Droogan. Now comes a plot twist … When I saw some photos of Doc’s camp site, I realized I had the wrong location! The site which the old timer said was Droogan’s, was NOT, but the site I later discovered, WAS. We soon made plans for a field trip, so they could go to the very site on which their great grandfather had built his shanty in about 1910.

Early that fall the game was afoot. We all met up in Phoenicia and proceeded to the state campground in Woodland Valley, from whence we began our tramp into history. The route we hiked was also the route which naturalist John Burroughs and friends traveled upon in 1885 while on their first ascent of Slide Mountain, an expedition which John later recounted in his famous essay “The Heart of the Southern Catskills.” We eventually came to the first, and mis-identified, shanty site. This was now shrouded in mystery, but soon after arrived at the true Droogan shanty site. The great grandsons had now been united with their Great Grandpa’s shanty site, and we all shared the good feeling of making that connection. Of course we brought copies of the old photos, and were able to confirm the exact location by comparing landscape features.

Painting of Doc Droogan by an artist friend

Doc Droogan's friend harvesting water from a frozen stream

Doc Droogan's shanty, with his son posing

The Doctor had used this sparse shelter as a camp whenever he wanted to escape the city and “rough it.” He often brought his son or a buddy. One of the photos from over 110 years ago, showed a friend of the Doctor, standing next to the stream in what looked to be frigid weather. One can easily decipher the photo. This man is filling his canvas buckets, but first had to use a rock to break the ice in order to access the water. Pretty cold camping weather I’d say, especially with the old-fashioned equipment they had. No Gore-tex, no flashlight etc.

From other accounts I have, from the later 1800’s into the early 1900’s, there was a trend for some hikers to deliberately launch their outdoor adventure in extreme conditions. They would often take photos and thermometer readings to document their experiences. Upon their return, they would boast about their daring adventure to all who would listen … a well-earned boast it was! Many of these accounts were relayed in the newspapers of the day. Now it is done with selfies and social media. Sometimes though, it was done simply for personal fulfillment, to test your mettle, to confront yourself, and learn your own limitations, or find strength you didn’t know you had.

Solving this Droogan mystery was great but created another one. If the original shanty site was not the Doc’s, whose was it? While studying the ascent of Slide Mountain done by John Burroughs, I wanted to nail down his hiking route as accurately as possible. I examined not only Burroughs’ essay, but his journal as well. He mentioned that his group stopped at a landmark, which the locals referred to as the “burnt shanty.” This was an old bark peeler’s shanty which had burned in 1865, 25 years before Burroughs’ hike. Though John’s description of its location was confusing, his path had to go through this area. This meant that this site was likely the “burnt shanty.” If so, his description of the rest of their hiking route could be deciphered. This hypothesis was confirmed when, sometime later, I was shown an old hand drawn map which clearly marked the “burnt shanty” location with the words Burnt Shanty. It couldn’t get clearer than that.

Continuing with my quest to make history connections, I now had another one to make. I had already been in contact with Joan Burroughs, the great granddaughter of John Burroughs, and so now proceeded to set up a time for her to visit Woodland Valley. Finally, the day arrived, and she got to hike the same route, and see the same site that her famous ancestor had. It was a special time to be sure.

It isn’t too much of a stretch to surmise that Doc Droogan was inspired by the writings of John Burroughs, not only to hike and fish in the Catskills, but to come to this very part of the valley. I later learned that he had also set up a camp in the Neversink Valley, at another spot that Burroughs wrote about.

As you can see, though the idea of historical research may sound dry and stuffy, there is a fun side to it which can bring new people into your life. I must implore you, if you discover some old photos or papers that you think might have some historic value, PLEASE let some historian know. What might appear to be inconsequential, may just be a crucial piece of a puzzle for somebody’s mystery.

Paul Misko is a Catskill historian, with a focus on the Shandaken area, and John Burroughs. He gives presentations on history and leads hikes with the Catskill 4000 Club. He can be contacted at climbapeak@gmail.com. His blog is at catskillforestadventures.blogspot.com.

The author, Joan Burroughs, and Mike Kudish at the Burnt Shanty site

Doc Droogan's descendants at his shanty site