They're Just "Boys" at Vassar

by Helen Myers (Poughkeepsie New Yorker, December 17, 1944)

"This is their home," Ada B. Willett said. "They came of their own free will. No one put them here, and no one can take them out. Sometimes they don't tell their families that they're coming until the very, last minute to avoid an argument. Dr. Charles Lane used to say that after they'd been here a month they added ten years to their lives because they knew they had security. You know Dr. Lane was our physician for a great many years, 25 or 30."

The matron of Vassar Home for Aged Men was telling of the home and "the family" in the L-shaped living room that she shares with Blanche Stoutenburgh, assistant matron on the second floor of the institution at Main and Vassar Streets. Since the room is in one of the building's many wings, it has windows on three sides. It is furnished in old mahogany, most of it heirloom pieces.

Miss Willet was very outspoken about her dislike of the home's traditional nickname "The Old Men's Home." "Our official name is Vassar Home for Aged Men," she said, "But I just say Vassar home. I think that's better, don't you? There's no need of talking about how old we are. I'm really rude when people say 'the Old Men's Home'—it's a name that implies 'Oh, the poor old things'—and the men are even ruder. One man was asked if he lived at the Old Men's Home and he said, 'No.' Just that with no explanation. His questioner was surprised and asked him again, and he said, 'No' again. Then the questioner asked where he did live and he said, 'Vassar Home.' That's the way they feel about it."

Throughout the interview Miss Willett referred to the home's residents as "The men," "The family," and very frequently, "The boys." "That's probably a swing of the pendulum from 'old men' she said, but they love it. When I use it to them they say 'Oh, yes, the BOYS' and dance a jig. They like to think of themselves as a little younger than they are rather than older, but that's a usual attitude, don't you think so?"

Miss Willett explained that the home was established by Matthew Vas-

sar Jr. and John Guy Vassar, nephews of Matthew Vassar Sr., the founder of the college, on the site of the uncle's home. It opened May 6, 1881, with six men. The next entered two years later. A total of 172 men have lived there, and there are 21 now and two vacancies. Vacancies are never open very long, she said.

"The family" now has representatives from several walks of life. There are former farmers, a carriage maker, a dairyman, a newspaper reporter, several carpenters, painters, an architect, business men, salesmen, janitors, a cabinet maker, and a hoe maker.

"You'd be surprised at the number who come here who never thought they'd enter a home," Miss Witlet said. "Usually a long illness—most often the wife's— has eaten up all their reserve."

Dining Room at Vassar Home for Aged Men. Dutchess County Historical Society Collection. When the home opened only elderly Protestants from the city of Poughkeepsie were eligible for admission, the matron said. Some four years ago the rules were amended so that county men could enter too. Although the minimum age is 65, exceptions are sometimes made by the board of trustees...

The home also has a board of lady managers. Mrs. B. Abbott Easton is president of this board, which is composed of 42 women, six from each of the seven Protestant denominations of the city.. .Although a man must be in reasonably good health for admission to the home, there is no upward age limit. One of the family's newest members recently entered at the age of 94.

"That was really fun," Miss Willet said. "For a long time our oldest inhabitant was 88, and he was rather conscious of the honor. The next oldest was born in '58. Then this new one who is 94, came with us. One of the first days he was here he went out for a walk. When 88 hears 94 was

Vassar Home for Aged Men (1881-1974). In 1975, the building was renamed and redeveloped as the Cunneen-Hackett Cultural Center. Dutchess County Historical Society Collection.

going, he came to me and said, 'You certainly aren't going to let him go, are you?' I said, 'Why not? He's able to take care of himself. Anyway, he's gone.' So 88 got dressed and went out to overtake 94, but he didn't. He missed him because 94 had gone up the hill the other way. Most of them go through Vassar street, then up Lafayette Place. The hill is easier that way."

The entrance fee for admission to the home is $500. Each man is also expected to bring a year's supply of clothing. Although it is understood that any other estate a man may have is turned over to the home when he enters, there are exceptions, Miss Willet said. According to the rules, any inheritance a man may receive after he enters also automatically belongs to the home, unless he cares to withdraw. Once he a member of the family, the home meets all his expenses and gives him a small monthly allowance.

"That inheritance clause is in the by-laws," Miss Willet said, "But in the 15 years I've been here none of the men has ever inherited anything that

we know of. We're supported by our endowment. That was enough, but since investments aren't bringing in what they did, we haven't as much to do with as we used to. We don't get any allowance from the state or the county or the city, and we've had very few Benefits. I can remember only two. Several years ago, we gave a card party when we wanted to upholster some furniture, and last year we had another to finance recreation for the boys."

"We've had some gifts, but not many. I think we might have had more if people had realized how well we could use them. I know of one of our men, who used to have everything, said that it made him too cross to think that he had never given the home anything. He would have been glad to give $10—he did to other local organizations—but he simply never thought about giving it here."

The home has a resident nurse, Mrs. Edith Browne, who is on call 24 hours a day. There are also four other full time workers on the staff and one part time employee, Miss Willett said. All have been there for several years, one for 26. Of Mrs. Browne and her work the matron said: "She has a real job. She has given transfusions. She always has things to do. Then sometimes, she has more things to do."

Dr. Howard Townsend, the home's physician, calls there instead of expecting the men to go to his office, Miss Willett said. If one of the family must make an office call at a specialist's he is sent in a taxi. When Miss Willett was asked who paid for the taxi she answered, "We do. We take care of our boys. If they have to go to a hospital, we pay for that too— room, board, medicines, treatment, everything. After they pay their $500, there's nothing more for them to pay for unless they want to."

Breakfast is at 8 at the home, dinner at 1 and supper at 5:30. The men have no duties unless they care to assume them, Miss Willett said. Several of them make their own beds and one man just fixed a toaster that morning. There is usually one man who likes to help with such work, and that particular man does a lot around the home, the matron said. Then, too, the men like to trim their own Christmas tree. That will be done the Friday before Christmas this year.

"We have very few rules and regulations," Miss Willett said. "Their lives here aren't much different from what they would be at home,—except that they aren't nagged at. Of course, if a man plans to be out for a meal,

he is expected to tell me as an act of courtesy, just as he should in his own home. And they are expected to ask for a key if they stay out after 10 o'clock. We used to have a rule that they had to be in by 10, but they had a way of getting in later. The matron's ears were too sharp for that, so we started the key system. I don't think there's a night when one of them isn't out, to a friend's home or a lodge meeting or something of the sort, and in the six or seven years since the keys were made, not one has been lost."

"Smoke? Of course they can but not in their own rooms. That involves too much fire hazard and we haven't the help to clean up the ashes, but there's a place provided for smoking on each floor. They have a carpenter shop right under this room. It isn't used very much as a shop except by one man, but they go there to smoke. Then there's a smoking room in the basement, and in the case of illness, they cafe use a room on this floor. They can smoke in the infirmary too."

Life runs very smoothly at the home, Miss Willet said, and months will go by when there is no necessity for her to speak to any of the family about anything. Then it is usually enough for her to point out that they are hurting their own home, she said.

We don't have bickering and we don't have friction either, Miss Willett said. One man may say, 'Oh, don't bother about him,' but that's about all you ever hear. It's like a college or any other place where different types are thrown together. Those who have something in common form friendships. They may play Chinese checkers or dominos or cards together. Or they may go to the pictures together. Then the carpenter shop is a center of interest for a few. But they never get very friendly with one another."

Going to the movies is one of the "the boys" principal diversions, Miss Willet said. Through the courtesy of the Stratford and Bardavon theaters they are allowed to go any afternoon except Sunday. They don't have passes. They simply go. One of the old inhabitants takes a new member of the family the first time. After that he too, is admitted without question to the somewhat cynical comment that it is remarkable that the men haven't abused this privilege by introducing so many friends who aren't residents of the home that another system would be necessary. Miss Willet answered, VI never even thought of that. They're all honest men. They're the town's and the county's men. They're a nice group.

They stand for honesty."

Stratford Theater, 33-37 Cannon Street, Poughkeepsie where residents of the Vassar Home attended movies for free. Dutchess County Historical Society Collection.

Another favorite diversion is listening to the radio. There is a radio for general use in the living room, and almost every man has his own in his own room. When the first man asked to have a radio she said, no, it would annoy too many people, Miss Willet recounted. But the man promised that it would never bother anyone, so she gave her consent. "We have about 20 radios now, but we never have bedlam," the matron said. "Of course, one will sometimes get a little loud. Then it's the poor matron's job to mention it. The man usually gets cross and turns it off entirely—for a few minutes."

The men also like to gather around the piano in the living room and sing old time songs, whenever anyone comes who can play for them. Two religious services are also held in the living room every month. A pastor sent by the Dutchess County ministerial association conducts a service there at 3 o'clock the second Sunday of every month, and Chaplain William Shepherd directs a vesper service there the fourth Sunday

each month. Some member of the Music Appreciation Club provides the music for this service.

In a short tour of the home, Miss Willett first showed the mens' rooms on the second floor. Each has one large window, one corner room has two—a single bed covered with a white spread, a stand and one or two chairs. Some of the rooms were furnished by the men who occupy them, Miss Willett said. She added that its a standing joke that every man has the best room in the house. Whenever a vacancy occurs, if a desirable room is made available, it is offered to one of the men. They usually ask if they "have to move." When they are assured that they don't, they stay where they are.

Main living room (nicknamed "Little Amrita Club" by the Home's residents). Dutchess County Historical Society Collection. On the third floor the matron showed "our so-called infirmary," a corner room with two beds next to the rooms of the nurse. Although the men are moved here for convenience in the case of illness, the room hasn't the equipment of an infirmary, Miss Willett pointed out.

She took the elevator to the first floor and led the way down the center hall toward the living room, really a double room that extends across the entire front of the house. There is a black marble fire place in each part, and a pair of girandoles on each mantel. The girandoles, the old mahogany tables and fiddle back chairs all came from Vassar homes, Miss Willet said.

The north and south reception rooms, two smaller rooms, fronting on Vassar Street, are also furnished with beautiful old time mahogany. There are several fiddle back chairs, an old secretary, slim tables and an oil portrait of Matthew Vassar Jr. as a young man hangs on the wall of the north reception room and there is also a pair of charming old china vases on the black marble mantle of this room.

"The college would like to have some of our furniture," Miss Willet said.

That is easy to believe.

After another elevator trip, this time to the basement, Miss Willett first showed the big kitchen at the east end of the front of the house and the dining room on the southwest. Although technically a basement, the windows are full length. In the dining room five tables were set with white cloths, one for Miss Willett and Miss Stoutenburgh, four for the men. An old glass fruit dish with a standard was on one of the men's tables. Miss Willett said that she didn't know where it had come from; it had been in the house as long as she had been there. Directly back of the dining room is the reading room. Since it is in a wing, it has windows fronting both Main and Vassar Streets. This room is endowed, Miss Willett said. Money was given for the furnishings and a small amount is Residents bedroom, Vassar Home for Aged Men. Dutchess County available every Historical Society Collection. year for upkeep. Magazines were piled on the large center table and a rack filled with books stood against one wall.

"We have quite a library and the men read a lot," Miss Willet said. "One man said that he had wanted to read all his life, but he never had a chance before he came here. He didn't have the time."

The matron also showed the smoking room, directly back of the reading room and the barber shop with windows on the west and north. Upstairs, she showed the colored lithograph of the Matthew Vassar Sr. home that hangs on the wall of the hall near the entrance door. Dated 1831, the delicately colored print shows a narrow three story white frame house fronting Main Street. The entrance door is at the east, two windows on the west. A small conservatory is in the wing on the west. A carriage house and a bit of the brewery that financed so many of Poughkeepsie's improvements also appears at the west.

As she rehung the picture Miss Willet said, "This is their home, and I think you have seen it all. The boys are free to come and go as they please. Two weeks before Thanksgiving one of the men came to me and said that he had taken down the pictures in his room and put things away because he was ready to go for a visit just as he always does this time of year. He's visiting his daughter in the west. His room is locked—we always lock a man's room if he goes to the infirmary or the hospital and will be cleaned while he's gone. About February we'll get a card from him telling us when he's coming home—unless he decides to stay until March."

"The men can have their friends and relatives here any time. Morning, afternoon, or evening, they're always welcome. But not for meals. We wish we could, but we can't afford that. We simply haven't the funds."

(Helen Myers' work is reprinted by permission of The Poughkeepsie Journal.)