Mountain Home, March 2024

The Legend of Fly Williams

By David Higgins

MAIN STREET SECTION

14

Working Together to Make It Work

By Linda Roller

Lock Haven thinks outside the shop.

22 At the Heart of the Finger Lakes

By Karey Solomon

Penn Yan sets the table for community.

28 Judge This Book by Its Conductor

Stephen Gunzenhauser releases his memoir.

30 Tess’s Table

By Teresa Banik Capuzzo

The beauty of (melted) butter.

34 Back of the Mountain

By Jason Robson

March ember.

The Legend of Fly Williams

By David Higgins

James "Fly" Williams Jr. soared from Watkins Glen to the pros before he flew too close to the sun.

A Bespoke Main Street

By Mary Beth Voda

In Horseheads there’s no wrong direction.

The Art of Marc Rubin’s (Still) Life

By Lilace Mellin Guignard

Elmira painter finds the animate in the inanimate.

Cover art, oil by David Higgins. This page: (top) Fly Williams courtesy 1974 Austin Peay State University “Farewell and Hail” student yearbook; (middle) Horseheads Postcard courtesy Town of Horseheads; (bottom) Marc Rubin with Penny DeRenzo by Lilace Mellin Guignard.

Penn

These events sponsored by:

mountainhomemag.com

E ditors & P ublish E rs

Teresa Banik Capuzzo

Michael Capuzzo

A ssoci A t E E ditor & P ublish E r

Lilace Mellin Guignard

A ssoci A t E P ublish E r

George Bochetto, Esq.

A rt d ir E ctor

Wade Spencer

M A n A ging E ditor

Gayle Morrow

s A l E s r EP r E s E nt A tiv E

Shelly Moore

c ircul A tion d ir E ctor

Michael Banik

A ccounting

Amy Packard

o il P A int c ov E r i llustr A tion

David Higgins

c ov E r d E sign

Wade Spencer

c ontributing W rit E rs

David Higgins, Linda Roller, Karey Solomon, Mary Beth Voda

c ontributing P hotogr AP h E rs

Julie Brennan, John Pulos, Jason Robson

d istribution t EAM

Amy Woodbury, Grapevine Distribution, Linda Roller

t h E b EA gl E

Nano

Cosmo (1996-2014) • Yogi (2004-2018)

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The Legend of Fly Williams

James "Fly" Williams Jr. Soared from Watkins Glen to the Pros Before He Flew Too Close to the Sun

By David Higgins

The bus ride from NYC back in 1971 was a long and grueling one. Liberty, Roscoe, Binghamton, Elmira. Then a place called “Horseheads”—Horseheads! And a little north of that, a glimpse of a waterfall. A waterfall! The brothers back in the projects were not gonna believe this. And here, finally, was Jimmie’s destination—a place called Watkins Glen, specifically, Glen Springs Academy, a school in need of basketball players. He uncoiled his lanky frame—the seats were designed for midgets—and stared hard out the window. It looked like Mayberry RFD. Some nice homes, some not-so-nice homes, a gas station. Something called Curly’s. And then some teenage girls with bell-bottoms and clouds of blonde hair. Maybe this would be okay after all.

James Williams Jr. was born into poverty in 1953 in Brownsville, Brooklyn, the youngest of six. His father bailed when he was just a toddler. His mother worked long hours for low pay, and his babysitter was essentially the street. Young Jimmie was gangly and mischievous, a natural entertainer and class clown: “I was a troubled kid. I stayed in trouble. My middle name was trouble!”

Not in the cards:

Fly Williams played only one season for the St. Louis Spirits, 1974-75, but it was long enough for the Topps Company to make a trading card, reproduced here by David Higgins in mixed media (oil, markers, and pencils).

David Higgins original art

No more pencils, no more books: After Glen Springs Academy closed in 1974 (shown here in the 1990s), the grand mansion that first sheltered celebrities and, later, hopeful high schoolers, fell into disrepair and now is no more.

Yet Jimmie also happened to possess unearthly basketball talent. That mattered a lot, for Brownsville, despite (or perhaps because of) its poverty and decay, was the breeding ground for some of the best basketball players on the planet. All you needed was a ball, a basket, and (often) a broom to sweep the glass and syringes off the court.

Over the years Jimmie has given different origin stories for his nickname, Fly. According to one, “I got my name from the way I dress, the ladies that travel with me, and then my game got fly…Clyde (Walt Frazier) had Clyde, and I was Fly. I was Fly before Curtis Mayfield was Super Fly.”

“Even in childhood, we knew he’d be good,” says Ronald Jones, a boyhood friend. Fly was tall (eventually six-five), he could shoot, he could slash to the hoop, and he had the hyper-competitive instinct that is the requisite for greatness. He was especially suited for rugged, freewheeling “streetball”— fouls are never called, losers sit, and dunking is not only legal but celebrated. From age thirteen onward, his reputation grew for his whirlybird slams, fancy dribbling, quicksilver fakes, and hilarious trash-talking. “Fly” graffiti started to appear in Brownsville and

spread across the borough. He honed his skills at Rucker and The Hole; he played against all-city playground legends like Earl “the Goat” Manigault, future NBA All-Star World B. Free, and even Hall of Famer Julius “Dr. J” Erving. He eventually was listed as the number two athlete on the “50 Greatest Streetballers of All Time” (behind only Manigault) by the Street Basketball Association.

Yet as his cockiness ripened into overconfidence, he was floundering. Fly starred on the basketball team at James Madison High School, but was notorious for childish antics and sudden rages. Eventually, he flunked out—he simply stopped attending. He found himself getting pulled into the life on the street, and he was shaping up to be a sad yet familiar story in the projects: a superior talent destined to disappoint.

Hang On, Help Is On Its Way

Then, in autumn 1971, a talent scout and family friend saw a small ad in the New York Times for a new boarding school, way upstate, with a philosophy that could help transform an immature know-it-all. It was called Glen Springs Academy. It could relocate Fly away from temptation and he

could dream of a college scholarship if he applied himself. It had a small gym where he could maintain his skills, and perhaps other talented kids might even follow him up from the city and form a team. Fly’s mom footed the tuition. Even to this day, he is deeply thankful for what came next.

Glen Springs was a magnificent 300acre property in Watkins Glen, high on the western ridge above Seneca Lake, just a half mile from the famous rock formations and waterfalls that lure over a million tourists every year. The sprawling, colonnaded mansion was three stories tall, and its adjacent springs contained some of the purest water on earth. Described as “the Saratoga Springs of the Finger Lakes,” it originally opened as a health resort, and attracted the A-listers of the day—Bing Crosby, Bette Davis, and even Franklin D. Roosevelt—but closed after World War II. In the 1950s it became an esteemed Catholic high school, St. Anthony of Padua, but that, too, fell victim to changing priorities.

In the early 1970s, reflecting the post-Woodstock spirit of the times, a reformist educator—founder Marcell Rosno—created a new type of high school on the property. The brochure promised: “Glen

Fly continued from page 6

John Pulos

Springs Academy. A new, exciting venture in secondary education. Small classes, seminars, stimulating faculty. Students work as well as study. Sports program.”

And GSA delivered. Says basketball scholarship student Fred Lee, “In New York, teaching is just a job, nobody cares about how you’re doing or whether you even come to class. It’s different up here. The teachers are real friendly and we know we can go to them with our problems…in New York I had a D average but here I get Bs.” Though some sneered that the prep school was merely an “academic rehab clinic,” schoolwork always came first. A trawl through Facebook proves that many GSA grads, including student-athletes, did indeed go on to have prosperous and fruitful lives.

Fly and his compatriots loved the small-town vibe and the beauty of the Finger Lakes countryside; it was exotic for street kids who had never even seen the Milky Way due to the smog and light pollution in the projects. And many of the people (including the local “honeys”) loved those tall, alien-looking black kids right back. “It was a great experience living in Watkins Glen,” said Fly’s roommate Craig Smoak, now a Mercedes dealer in San Antonio; “the people were always very warm and friendly to us.” Assistant Coach John Pulos remembers, “the gym was open every night, and the local boys would come up and play pick-up games with Fly, Craig, Fred, and the rest. We played EFA [Elmira Free Academy] and Southside—and buried both of them—yet many of their players remain friends to this day.”

Headmaster Rosno justified the school’s laid-back, progressive philosophy to the New York Times: “One thing about kids from Brooklyn, they’re more aware. Why should they waste time fighting the establishment? When it’s time to study, they know it’s time to study.” Yet Fly was ever irrepressible; once he risked a dangerous fall to lasso a six-pack of beer that was cooling on a window ledge outside a teacher’s dorm room. “He denied doing it,” remembers John. “But we didn’t even have to ask. We knew nobody else could have done it!”

The Glen Springs team proved to be even better than coaches Dan Rosenfield and John had hoped. They quickly gained a name for their high-octane, street-savvy type of ball, described in a local paper as “Globetrotterish.” Fly was the star—he was named first team all-state, averaging thirty-four points and nineteen rebounds—but his supporting cast was also top-notch. Home games were often moved from the little hilltop gym to larger venues.

Local hoop fans will never forget an epic clash at EFA in January 1972. EFA, too, had a powerful team—and a number fifteen statewide ranking. The crowd was large, rowdy, and expecting a show. They got one: two minutes in, a brawl was on. According to Fly’s teammate, Horseheads native Jon Keagle, “Fly pump-faked one of the opposing players so far out of his jock that his buddies sitting on the bench thought that he had hit him in the face with the ball. Fly didn’t; he was just having fun, but the bench cleared and the gym turned into a riot.”

Fly vaulted onto the scorer’s table, swinging a folding chair around his head and doing his crazy-man schtick, but was restrained by his coaches and teammates. Order was restored, and Glen Springs won 118-90 behind his thirty-two points. When the GSA squad emerged to catch the bus home, there was a small group of kids waiting patiently in the cold for Fly’s autograph.

Another memorable game came weeks later against top rival

See Fly on page 10

welcome to WATKINS GLEN

St. Thomas More School of Connecticut, generally considered to be the best prep team in the whole nation. They’d beaten GSA by fifteen points a month earlier. It was a de facto championship game, held at Corning Community College in order to accommodate the expected crowd. “Both bleachers were filled to capacity and then some,” recalls CCC Athletic Director Neil Bulkley. “The gym held standing room only—all told, a minimum of 2,800 to 3,000 spectators. Thankfully, the fire department was none the wiser, or they would have shut us down!” GSA beat STM 78-72 in double overtime, featuring what a local paper called “some of the most fantastically accurate shooting you’ll ever see in high school basketball.” It was sweet revenge for GSA, and the tiny academy was crowned the Northeastern Prep School Champion, no mean feat for a school in its infancy.

Graduation, College, and Back to Brooklyn

Fly was ignored by all college recruiters—save one. Leonard Hamilton was a young assistant at a little-known Tennessee university named for a former governor—Austin Peay (rhymes with “pee”). Leonard, who as a black coach was a rarity in 1972, made many trips to Watkins to recruit Fly. They would always go to Chef’s Diner (a beloved eatery, still there on Route 14), and Leonard’s patience and obvious basketball acumen won out. (He would one day ascend to the elite college and professional coaching ranks, where he is well known to this day.)

Later that spring, Fly graduated; he did surprisingly well, and never missed a class. He had kept his end of the bargain. He left Norman Rockwell country and went home to the rubble-strewn Brooklyn playgrounds to play hoops, party, and dream of college glory in Tennessee.

In a twist of fate, a young Sports Illustrated photojournalist named Rick Telander showed up in the Brownsville projects that summer to document the street game, and Fly emerged as the main character in Heaven Is a Playground, published in 1976. It was described by no less than Barack Obama as “the best basketball book I’ve ever read.” (It’s available on Amazon and definitely lives up to the hype.)

“(Fly Williams) was out on the edge,” Rick now says. “He was missing a bunch of teeth, had a gigantic afro with a pick in it, and he was so skinny. He was manic, hilarious, and over the top. At the same time, you could tell there was a lot of pain there.” Fly was generous and funny one moment, and an obnoxious jerk the next. Yet the younger kids followed him around like puppies, imitating his swagger and his style.

Fly was a surprise sensation in sleepy little Clarksville, home of Austin Peay. Fans would line up for hours to get tickets. He lit up the Ohio Valley Conference for two seasons with his pedal to the metal approach, but often frustrated his coaches and teammates alike with his antics, which ranged from harmless to borderline destructive. The only time his mother came to see him play, he was ejected from the game for a flagrant foul. Still, he averaged a freshman national-record 29.4 points and led unheralded Peay to the Sweet Sixteen in the NCAA tournament. He also inspired the nuttiest crowd chant in basketball history: “The Fly is open, let’s go Peay!”

As a sophomore, Williams had another excellent year in

See Fly on page 12

Fly continued from page 9

Fly in the face of the odds: Fly (right) is with Gary Jackson, also a Brooklynite and Glen Springs Academy grad who won a scholarship to the Arizona State Sun Devils and went on to run his own limousine company. (Below) Fly appears second from left on the bottom of the book cover for Heaven Is a Playground by Rick Telander about street basketball.

John Pulos

which he made third team All-American. Meanwhile, APU began building a state-of-the-art gym to showcase their wunderkind for the upcoming season. Unfortunately, due to a harshly enforced quirk in conference eligibility rules, Fly lost his scholarship and went back to Brownsville, flustered and confused. Worse still, he received some shady advice from a minor Brooklyn politico and subsequently screwed up a shot at the NBA hardship draft and the riches it portended. It didn’t help that he had gained a reputation as a “head case”—a selfish and moody player who was a coach’s

On to St. Louis

Still, he was too good a talent to be ignored, and was signed in 1974 by the Spirits of St. Louis of the American Basketball Association, a rival league of the NBA known for its wild-west atmosphere, its three-point goals, and its distinctive red, white, and blue ball. (And, unlike the plodding and regimented NBA, dunking was legal!) Fly was promised $250,000, but through management tactics he effectively earned only $35,000. However, for a kid who grew up so poor that he had lost half his teeth due to bad nutrition, that was a fortune. Alas, that cash eventually funded some very bad habits.

The Spirits were a cluster of young misfits with amazing talent yet no idea of teamwork. Fly became a sidekick for the team’s infamous mega-star, the aptly-monikered Marvin “Bad News” Barnes. Unfortunately, Fly’s moral compass was underdeveloped, and Marvin was the worst possible influence. These were the days of funky music, shady ladies, and cocaine, and the two roommates indulged to the fullest.

On the court, Fly showed flashes of brilliance for the Spirits. “I think the first game, Fly came off the bench and scored twenty-four points. We didn’t draw huge crowds, but the 5,000 people that were there went nuts,” says now-legendary sportscaster Bob Costas, who was just beginning his career as the Spirits’ play-by-play man. “He was an immediate crowd favorite.” Fly, always up for a laugh, chaffed Bob mercilessly, calling him “little Bob.” Fly says, “I teased Bob, but I loved Bob. I’d love to see him today. He was a riot in those days.”

With “FLY” lettered on the back of his jersey, he buried acrobatic bombs and dunked from the foul line; in his intensity and creativity, he was integrating the street ethos into the pro game. “Fly was a fantastic offensive threat. He was a warrior. He was a gladiator,” recalls Marvin. But there were too many negatives: his indifferent defense, his ball-hogging, and his hair-trigger temper. By the end of the season, he was riding the bench and had a disappointing 9.4 points-per-game scoring average. That was his first and only season in the big leagues; when the Spirits brought in a no-nonsense new coach, Rod Thorn, Fly was released. The team owner’s daughter cried when he was cut. It was a demoralizing blow for a twenty-two-yearold with an ego as big as his Afro.

He remained close to the team, but for the worst possible reason. In the ESPN documentary Free Spirits, Fly said, “I was cut by the team but I still stayed in the city. Flew back and forth from New York to St. Louis. Sometimes Marvin used to put me on the plane. You know, ’cause they needed their candy. I was their drug guy—I knew the dealers in every city. They put their orders through me.”

Fly’s waning hopes to return to the big leagues were crushed when the Spirits were left out of a merger agreement with the NBA

Decorative Ponds, Water Gardens, Fountains, Pondless Waterfalls

and the team folded permanently. He had several NBA tryouts with the likes of the Buffalo Braves, but his bad reputation made him not worth the risk. He found himself back in Brooklyn, still a local legend, but now playing sporadically for a handful of semipro teams, including stops as far away as Israel and Anchorage, Alaska. With the Jersey Shore Bullets, at perhaps his lowest point, he wrestled Victor the Bear at halftime to pick up a paltry $250. “Victor was 8-feet, 11-inches,” Fly recalls. “I lost.” (Thankfully, Victor was drugged, wore a muzzle, and had been declawed.)

But Fly was incorrigibly Fly, and after he lost his temper one too many times and socked a referee, even the minor leagues didn’t want him. Suddenly, his career was firmly and finally over. And there was worse to come.

The Street Takes Over

“I think [Fly] never made it for the simple reason that he was undisciplined,” says Ronald. “He always had problems with authority on teams—coaches and things. And he got involved in the street life at the same time. Once he wasn’t playing anymore, the street life just took over.” Washed up, not yet thirty, “wandering the neighborhood and getting high,” as he recalls, Fly sank into despondency. He crossed the point of no return when he segued from drug using into drug dealing.

“I got a taste of that money and I didn’t know how to live no more unless I had that type of money. So what was left for me was the streets,” he says. Old friends like World B. Free and Dr. J could not help him. Mike Tyson came by to meet his boyhood idol, but Fly was too high and too paranoid to receive him. In 1987, he almost died after being blasted with a shotgun after a deal gone wrong. The explosion set his leather jacket on fire; he lost a lung and a kidney. He still carries lead pellets in his body. After a miraculous but painful recovery (one that included a vision of a demon dragging him to hell), he served two brief stints in Attica for attempted robbery and drug possession. In prison, Fly was relieved to learn that due to his streetball fame, even the hardest convicts treated him with deference and respect.

However, in yet another twist of fate, the book Heaven Is a Playground grew greatly in stature over the years and helped to refurbish Fly’s reputation. A film of it was made in 1991, with a main character loosely based on Fly. The producers courted Michael Jordan for the role, but by the start of filming he had ascended to worldwide fame and was unaffordable. The role went to a relative unknown. An even bigger book, Loose Balls: The Short, Wild Life of the American Basketball Association, by Terry Pluto, devoted significant ink to the zany escapades of Fly and the Spirits, with one chapter headlined “A Brief Excursion into Fly-land.”

Fly received a bit of redemption in his fifties when he was hired in 2010 as a part-time motivational speaker, urging Brooklyn kids not to repeat his mistakes. “I’ve had a hell of an experience,” said Fly at the time. “I’m putting the negatives behind me now. I’m trying to give something positive to kids, maybe tell them my story. Maybe they can learn from it.” Austin Peay University retired his number with a moving halftime ceremony. He made a cameo appearance in LeBron James’s first Nike commercial. The Brooklyn Nets recognized Fly for his charity work with an “Ordinary People doing Extraordinary Things Award” during a game. And he even See Fly on page 32

Working Together to Make It Work

Lock Haven Thinks Outside the Shop

By Linda Roller

“It’s community over competition,” says Hanna Stover, from Momoyo Otsu boutique at 147 East Main. It’s the sentiment of Lock Haven’s Main Street in a nutshell, and she’s not alone in feeling that way.

Louis Anastos, owner of Stella A’s at 219 East Main and the Texas Restaurant at 204 East Main, can tell you about the tradition of community over competition. After all, he literally grew up on Main Street. His family’s home was there, close to the business district. “Main Street was where we played as kids,” he says. That was before—before the closings at Piper Aircraft, before Hammermill Paper left town, and before large nationwide stores, like Walmart and Lowe’s, had sprung up in nearby Mill Hall. Back then, Main Street was where people came to do their shopping. “I remember a traffic cop [at the west end of the business district]. He made sure people

could get across the street on a Friday night.” A conversation with Lock Haven folks “of a certain age” will tell you that the Texas Restaurant, owned by the Anastos family since 1962, was one of the hubs of life here. Open twenty-four hours a day, it was the place for after-bar food, family lunches and dinners, and, of course, their famous hot dogs. “Back then,” Louis continues, “there were four to five women’s clothing stores, three men’s, and four shoe stores.” The high school was right at the edge of downtown, along with the stadium. “When the high school moved, the kids didn’t walk through town. The people going to the games were not in the city.” The remaining businesses, hurt after so much industry left, were hurt yet again.

This Main Street had, and has, a few saving graces, though. Lock Haven University, now one of three schools under the

Commonwealth University of Pennsylvania umbrella, is an easy walk to downtown, with thousands of students, staff, and faculty who make their home here. Some business anchors adapted and remained. In addition to the Texas, there was an independent movie theater that hung on, and even expanded, so that there are now three screens. The Roxy at 308 East Main is a draw every night at 7:00 and for weekend matinees. There’s always been a “five and dime” store, once Woolworth’s, now Dollar General at 16 East Main. And Sand Piper Designs at 100 East Main continues, as a gift and design store.

But it takes more than that to make a downtown. Ben Green, president of Downtown Inc., explains, “We are all stakeholders here. We wear lots of hats and work together.” It took support from the city, the county, and Downtown Inc. to create and promote

Julie Brennan

Gettin’ summer rollin’: With streets closed on summer weekends, downtown Lock Haven becomes a pedestrian mall with all ages enjoying food, music, and friends. See

events that would boost traffic and interest in a growing downtown.

Oddly enough, one of the turning points for Lock Haven’s Main Street was the pandemic. Dealing with closures and mandates, businesses became creative and banded together. Louis was instrumental in pushing for the city to close the Main Street on weekends in 2020, to allow restaurants to serve customers outside. The streets filled with diners, live music and energy flowed. It was just what everybody needed. The people came—first from the city, then from the county, then from all over. Today, Louis sees people visiting from places like Lewisburg and Bloomsburg—people who will travel for a city throwing a street party, which it now does eight long weekends in the summer.

That kind of “thinking outside the shop” needs kindred spirits and energy all along the street, and in Lock Haven people with new ideas had just set up shop as the pandemic hit. According to Kira Rosamilia, tourism director at Clinton County Economic Partnership and Tourism Bureau, it was a “small business boom” started by people like Hanna Stover, who opened her own women’s boutique, and husband/wife team Larry Miller and Fabre Sanders.

In 2018, Larry and Fabre opened It Is What It Is at 109 East Main, in a part of the building owned by Fabre's family. Larry says, “It was never our intention to open a retail store with retail hours.” So for the first year, they ran the store remotely. “But 400 miles [they lived near Boston] is too far to know what was needed, so we moved.” They never looked back. By 2020, they’d hired their first employee; their candy store—the Sweet Shop—two doors down at 105 East Main opened in 2021. With Lock Haven as a center for outdoor activities in the Pennsylvania Wilds, the businesses blossomed with locals and tourists. “Tourist dollars are well spent here,” says Larry. The energy at It Is What It Is lights up a block.

Hanna worked at a boutique, CO2, that closed in 2020. “What now?” she wondered. “My dream was to own a store.” Hanna, born and raised here, knew the clients. “I told my business advisor that I wanted a corner location with lots of windows.” Nothing like that had been available in Lock Haven for a long time, but the day after she said it, Nittany Travel, a corner with lots of windows, put up a “for rent” sign. “And that was my sign,” Hanna says. The city supported with a low interest loan. Momoyo Otsu is now two storefronts, with one side dedicated to jewelry, and Hanna is partnering with Martina Guerra, a local goldsmith. Where there were no women’s clothing stores in 2019, there are now five. “If we need supplies, like tags, we can go to each other,” she says. Together, they serve the area.

The growth hasn’t stopped. The newest business is Silver Bullet Wellness at 132 East Main, Suite 7, offering massage therapy, breath coaching, hot stone treatment, facials, and mobile/pop-up options. Owners Sophia and Aidan “Aido” Gscheidle have a warm family of businesses to welcome them and to welcome all who enjoy a small, walkable city with unexpected delights.

For more information on events in downtown Lock Haven and all of Clinton County visit clintoncountyinfo.com.

A Bespoke Main Street

In Horseheads There’s No Wrong Direction

By Mary Beth Voda

There is a Horse Head Island in Greenland. Virginia has Horsehead Cliffs. Here in upstate New York, just off Route 17 between Elmira and the Arnot Mall, Horseheads names the village in the town—population 6,606.

The village website identifies it as “the first and only town and village in the United States dedicated to the service of the American Military Horse.” Military pack horses served in the Revolutionary War’s 1779 western campaign, waged by the Continental Army against British Loyalists and their Iroquois allies. When exhausted animals were unable to go on, they were abandoned or killed. Their sun-bleached skulls were found by the first white settlers entering the valley in 1789. Originally called The Valley of Horses Heads, the village has been known by a few different names over the past 200-plus years; it was changed to Horseheads once in 1845, and again in 1886, and Horseheads it has remained.

A visitor’s first impression of the town is

often the hub that marks the transition from South Main to North Main. It’s also where East Franklin Street becomes West Franklin. Just for good measure, Old Ithaca Road also joins the party here. Good luck—and remember to yield to vehicles on the right.

Is Main Street Horseheads like Main Streets everywhere? Such locales are usually identified as having more small businesses than chains. Hairdressers, barber shops, restaurants, bars, coffee shops, and other establishments in Horseheads’ business district, known as Hanover Square, provide goods and services typical of downtown commerce. In fact, except for one, there are no empty storefronts on Main Street Horseheads, a remarkable accomplishment considering today’s small-town economic picture.

Mayor Kevin Adams is a lifelong Horseheads resident dedicated to his community.

“The village’s commercial and retail corridor, Hanover Square, is one of the safest and nicest in Chemung County,” he says. He

cites a ten-person police force, a volunteer fire department, the village’s water system, its pool, and an active business community as major assets.

Regarding Hanover Square’s second-level apartments, Mayor Adams notes the residents offer a vital component of life beyond the people who patronize businesses. They range from young adults to the business owners who live above their shops—a lovely throw-back to how it used to be. “It is more than a shopping district,” he says, “It is our residents’ homes.”

At the Horseheads Do-It Center, 124 North Main, cashier Hope Towsley greets customers with a broad smile and a welcoming “Good morning.” The Do-It Center is a general lumber and hardware store providing kitchen and bath design and remodeling services. It’s a place where contractors and do-it-yourselfers can rent every kind of equipment for all kinds of projects, including earth moving, insulation blowing, and garden construction.

Staff,

Courtesy Town of Horseheads

Heart of town like a wheel: Five streets spoke out from the center of downtown Horseheads, with local shops and eats whichever way you go.

including Matthew Aiken, assistant manager, and his colleague, Laura Brooks are proud to say they are the local hardware serving Horseheads, Elmira Heights, Elmira, Big Flats, Corning, Watkins Glen, and Steuben, Schyler, and Chemung counties. During covid, when people were stuck at home and undertook home improvement projects, the Do-It Center was able to supply materials, tools, and services for those projects.

A few doors away, at 118 South Main, Jude’s Barber Shop and Specialty Services owner Jude Muoio acknowledges that online shopping and post-covid customer habits have resulted in sales downturns. The “specialty services” part of his business includes selling and servicing vacuum cleaners and sewing machines, and sharpening knives and scissors. But Jude appreciates the advantages of his Main Street location—the proximity to the area’s well-patronized bars and restaurants. “They bring people downtown,” he says. His shop is on that five-spoke intersection, which is also a gastric hub, including Louie’s Hanover Square at 102 South Main, Nick’s Pub and Grill at 102 North Main, and Simon’s Japanese at 2 Hanover Square. Main Street shop owners also recommend Thai Asian 119 at 119 West Franklin and Pudgie’s Pizza at 134 West Franklin.

At Studio 111, a hair salon just off Main, at 111 West Franklin, owner BeLynda Morse notes there are at least a dozen successful hairdressers in the area, thanks, in part, to a system of so-called booth runners. Individual hairdressers rent space in a shop such as hers, “and they bring their clients with them.” BeLynda says that during the covid years, she was forced to take temporary jobs to get by and is happy to be reopened now.

Wildflower on Main provides a boutique experience with women’s casual and party-ready clothes, jewelry and accessories at 110 South Main.

A block south you’ll find a lifelike bronze statue of a Revolutionary War pack horse in front of the Village Hall at 202 South Main. While you’re there, a visit with “the Barbaras” of the Horseheads Historical Society at the Depot, 312 West Broad, is a must. Society President Barbara Tighe-Skorczewski and Treasurer Barbara Kurcova are two more friendly Horseheads residents who are passionate about where they live and can provide an introduction to the Horseheads of long ago. Native American lore, Chemung Canal days, the community’s role as a WWII holding and reconsignment point all flesh out the Horseheads story.

They can also help you arrange a visit to Zimmerman House at 601 North Pine. It belonged to Eugene Zimmerman, a world-famous cartoonist in the late 1800s and early 1900s whose style ranged from simple pencil drawings to lifelike paintings appearing in political cartoon magazines.

The village is recovering well from the covid challenges. As for current village challenges, Mayor Adams refers back to the five-street convergence in the middle of Hanover Square where only one of the five has the right of way.

“Out of towners can be confused,” he admits.

Aside from those converging intersections, there is no confusion about Horseheads’ vibrant Main Street.

Mary Beth Voda is a writer and retired teacher living in Wyalusing, Pennsylvania.

When delivery chains just can’t cut it, and you want a savory pizza loaded with great toppings, Rico’s satisfies your craving.

RICOSPIZZA.COM

Bath: 607-622-6033

Hornell: 607-324-0030

Corning: 607-962-2300

Arnot Mall: 607-735-2330

Horseheads: 607-796-2200

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At the Heart of the Finger Lakes

Penn Yan Sets the Table for Community

By Karey Solomon

Longtime resident Minda Hopkins, who works at the Flower Cart at 134 Main, which has been in business close to eighty years, recounts a recent event that happened via the village Facebook page. Shortly after a resident wrote in requesting firewood for an elderly neighbor experiencing family financial and health challenges, more firewood than requested showed up at the neighbor’s house, as well as donations of food and home-cooked meals. “It’s a friendly place and people want to be helpful,” she says.

One yearly fundraiser serves a sit-down dinner at a very long custom-made table stretched across the Main Street bridge. Last year the Community Dinner, held the first Saturday in September, served 180 people food from over twenty area farms, wineries, breweries, and restaurants, and raised $16,200 for the Yates Community Center. Chefs prepare locally sourced meat and produce while lucky folks sip drinks and listen to area musicians. It’s a time for busy citizens,

business owners, and community leaders to socialize and celebrate their home. “It’s a very fun event,” says Chamber of Commerce treasurer Kim Hughes, who attended in 2023. “There’s a huge buzz around the dinner, and I felt fortunate to secure a spot.” Tickets sold out in six minutes.

A glimpse of a horse-and-buggy driven by one of the many Mennonite residents often causes visitors to slow down and look around. Penn Yan is the sort of place people envision when they think of living in an old-fashioned village, says Kris Pearson, director of the Yates County Arts Council at 127 Main. (Information on current exhibits and art classes can be found at artscenteryatescounty.org.) Most of the buildings on Main Street are old, classic, and lovingly renovated and maintained. The Arts Council building, which retains a huge, shiny-gated vault from its former life as a bank, is a perfect example. “It’s got great bones,” Kris says of the town. “We have a whole bunch of locally-owned, locally-sourced businesses. A lot of people

are coming from other places for the fun shopping.”

A little while ago, she asked someone to go to Long’s Cards and Books at 115 Main Street, a few doors down, to pick up a ream of paper. “It’s the closest thing to a general store,” she explains. The errand-runner returned with the paper as well as a plushy flamingo, claiming the temptation was irresistible. Long’s, a long-time business which has been at this location for more than forty years, has all the expected office supplies, a large selection of cards, toys and gifts, and even clothing. “You might find a five-foot-high giraffe down one aisle,” an employee mused. Sure enough, there was one of those too.

Main Street’s oldest business is undeniably Birkett Mills at 1 East Main, the largest buckwheat processing mill in the United States, in continuous operation since George Washington’s presidency. When they’re toasting buckwheat, the aroma wafts through town. Their products are sold across

Farm-to-Main Street meal: Each September, almost 200 residents gather on Penn Yan’s Main Street to raise funds for a community organization. (This photo is from 2022.)

Courtesy Yates County Chamber of Commerce

the country under a variety of labels. They made the Guinness Book of World Records on September 27, 1987, when the company made the largest pancake to date at their annual Buckwheat Harvest Festival (no longer held, alas). The twenty-eight-foot griddle on which the pancake was flipped is a sought-after background for visitors’ photo opportunities.

Just around the corner is one of the busiest businesses in the village—The Once Again Shoppe at 100 East Elm. At the thrift shop, operated by the Council of Churches, the multi-floor space offers every item one would need to furnish a house and its clothes cupboards, all at bargain prices.

The real strength of the community is its people. During the pandemic, many who’d previously vacationed here decided to return and work remotely. Of these, a significant number decided to take early retirement and remain. “They’ve been a blessing,” Kris notes. “We have all these dedicated and well-educated volunteers, who’ve relocated here and love the area and chosen to spend their time serving the community as volunteers.”

This community ethic permeates the downtown area. For instance, at the Main Street gift shop known as the Nest Egg, at 125 Main, owner Heather Griffith highlights the work of a local artist whose slightly off-the-beaten-path studio might otherwise be overlooked.

At the Keuka Candy Emporium, 131 Main, confectioner and owner Stacey Ingerick not only creates world-class chocolates, he also dedicates a meeting room at the back of the store to a once-a-month veteran’s gathering featuring cards and free coffee. Look twice inside the former Lown’s Department Store. Many of its original retail accoutrements are now in the Smithsonian Museum, but employees will point out the vestiges of the antique systems.

Long-time, established businesses like Pinckney Hardware at 24 Main and Cole’s Furniture and Floor Fashions at 123 Main are now joined by these newer ones in providing what locals want. “People remember the old days in this town,” Kris says. “When [the Arts Council] came in, people said, ‘Back in the day, you could get anything you needed on Main Street.’ The pendulum has swung back!”

Theresa Hoben, board president of the Downtown Business Council in Penn Yan, puts quite a bit of energy into keeping Penn Yan an interesting destination. The group has begun First Fridays when shops stay open later, the Arts Center celebrates area artists, and live music can be found in many venues. They also sponsor the “Chilly Chili Cookoff” (held during February First Friday) and the annual “Wing Walk” in March. Liberty Restaurant at 221 East Elm defends their title this month, held for two years, of best wings in Penn Yan.

Theresa says the strength of the area can be found year-round in its world-class eateries, many of which celebrate the area’s agricultural roots with farm-to-table cuisine, as well as new breweries. These are the places that come together during the Community Table to put on a good time for a good cause. The Chamber expects tickets to become available at yatesny.com on August 1. They cost $125, and you better be quick to get one.

Karey Solomon is the author of a poetry chapbook,Voices Like the Sound of Water, a book on frugal living (now out of print), and more than thirty-five needlework books. Her work has also appeared in several fiction and nonfiction anthologies.

The Art of Marc Rubin’s (Still) Life

Elmira Painter Finds the Animate in the Inanimate

By Lilace Mellin Guignard

On the evenings Marc Rubin teaches a class, light pours from the large windows of his studio in the historic Mark Twain building at 166 North Main Street in Elmira across from First Arena. Inside, easels are gathered around a well-lit arrangement of one or two objects. The walls are covered with framed masterpieces reminiscent of school field trips to art museums. It’s hard not to stop and stare into the room where people are laughing, hugging, and painting.

It’s okay to stare. And it’s okay to go in and ask about classes. “Jim Capriotti recruited me to move here—he wanted to bring the arts downtown,” says Marc. He and his wife, Penny DeRenzo, who manages everything, moved from Church Street to Main Street just over two years ago. Small canvases of perky critters—and one called dragon egg—

lean against the window below the graphic stencil stating Marc Rubin Associates: designer, painter, instructor

When attending Southside High School in Elmira, Marc noticed that, while others were taking notes with words, his notes were doodles. He studied graphic design and illustration in college and has been a graphic designer for decades, creating branding for companies including the Hilliard Corporation, New York Sports Club, and Tyoga Container. He creates everything from websites to book covers.

In the early 1990s, he started painting with the renowned Corning artist Thomas Buechner. They met twice a week almost until Tom’s death in 2010. Marc, a classical, representational oil painter, remembers, “When I started painting with him, I wanted to get good at craft. I chose one or two

objects to concentrate on at a time, and this grew into my style.”

In this way, he aims to bring attention to things people don’t normally pay attention to. Even when painting objects, he emphasizes the approach is the same as if it were a portrait. “It’s not an apple, it’s that apple. It has personality,” he says.

Michele Ward, owner of Principle Gallery in Alexandria, Virginia, praises Marc’s “ability to connect with the viewer emotionally through inanimate objects…. through deliberate and careful cropping and a quiet, often contemplative light.” Referring to the way Marc combines and poses objects, she says he makes us consider “just how ‘inanimate’ these objects really might be.”

Marc previously taught oil painting as an adjunct instructor at Elmira College and

Poser: Marc Rubin— the real deal—poses with his self-portrait, in which the bee on his shoulder represents the whispers he listens for when painting his realistic still lifes.

Lilace Mellin Guignard

at 171 Cedar Arts Center in Corning. Over time he developed his approach to classes, which is flexible for all levels, and spends six weeks on one subject, adding a layer every week. Students paint on masonite (included in the cost of the class) that he has given three layers of gesso (an acrylic paint-like substance that serves as a primer), sanding between each, and then added a layer of imprimatura—an initial stain in a wood-like tone such as many Italian masters used. Marc considers himself a painter in the Caravaggio school.

With each layer, the colors get richer. There is also the added benefit that things can be changed each week—taken further or even in a completely different direction. Marc is a visual learner and approaches teaching this way: “I sit and paint with them,” he says. “They watch me start the painting, as I describe what I’m doing and why. Then I say, ‘Okay, you can start now.’ After a bit I walk around. I want students to get lost in their work.” He encourages them to “listen to the whispers” that is the voice inside guiding them, as opposed to outside expectations. “If I’m always over their shoulder they snap out of the meditation.” Hanging in the studio/gallery is a self-portrait he did with a bee on his shoulder.

The bee represents the whispers.

These days, Marc is teaching more than ever before. His classes run six weeks for two hours each week, and students all work from the same still life. They never paint from photographs. One woman comes down from Canandaigua once a week to study with him. A family of women paint together weekly.

Sherri Stager, from Mansfield, started taking classes with Marc a year-and-a-half ago after seeing a book cover he’d done and following him on Facebook. “I was very intimidated,” she says, “but then I thought what the heck. I want to up my game.” She says he quickly put her at ease. “He’s so kind and personable. He told me the goal was to grow as an artist at your own pace. He’s a true master.”

Marc says, “Part of the beauty of painting to me is it’s a thing you can keep getting better at. The more you paint, the more you see. The more you see, the better you get. The better you get, the more you want to paint.” Two of Sherri’s paintings from Marc’s classes were part of a juried exhibit of regional artists at the Gmeiner Art & Cultural Center in Wellsboro in December 2023.

Students range from age eighteen to seventy-six, and there are classes for all skill levels—beginner, beginner-intermediate, and intermediate-advanced. Private lessons are also available.

Marc’s whimsical and thought-provoking paintings are on display in his studio as well as at several galleries across the country, including Broadmoor Gallery in Colorado Springs, Mary Woerner Fine Arts in West Palm Beach, and the Artists’ Gallery in Chestertown, Maryland. You can see more on his website marcs.art, where you can also sign up for classes. The next sessions start March 26, 27, and 28. Call the studio at (607) 734-1058 or text (607) 7650694. The studio is open Monday through Friday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and Saturday 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. But if he’s there he’ll gladly let you in, regardless of the time.

Recently, he saw a woman looking in the window and invited her in. “I asked, ‘Can I help you?’ and she said she was going through a divorce and her husband got all the paintings. I told her, ‘Take him for all you can and come back and buy some.’”

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Lilace Mellin Guignard

Brushes with the master: (top to bottom) Marc Rubin encourages Molly Cagwin; Hannah Connery suggests a brush to her mother, Kathy Connery; student Sherri Stager’s still life Squirrel/Dunkin Terminator was chosen to be part of an exhibit in Wellsboro.

Marc continued from page 24

Mammas don’t let your babies grow up to be maestros: In the 1990s, while conducting the Austin Symphony, Stephen Gunzenhauser met Willie Nelson, who was narrating during the performance. Willie was in town filming a movie, so the two were placed together to sign autographs.

TRAVELS WITH STEPHEN

Judge This Book by Its Conductor

Stephen Gunzenhauser Releases his Memoir

Stephen Gunzenhauser, music director and conductor of the Endless Mountain Music Festival, recently published his memoir of behind-the-scenes encounters with celebrities and personal anecdotes charting his long and varied career. It spans his German Jewish ancestry, his international travels both playing and conducting music, and his eighteen years in the Twin Tiers conducting and creating eclectic programming for EMMF. He will sign copies of his book, Travels with Stephen: The Most Famous Unknown Conductor, from 5 to 7 p.m. on Sunday, March 17, in the Penn Wells Hotel lobby in Wellsboro, where From My Shelf Books will have copies for sale.

As a conducting student in Boston in 1964, [at twenty-two years old], I was asked to conduct the concert wind ensemble for the Republican State Convention. It took place at the Statler Hilton Hotel in Boston. I was so excited. Our rehearsal was on the stage of the ballroom. After the rehearsal, an M.C. came up to me, both excited and nervous, and said, “Hey kid, look, when I give you the cue, play “The Star-Spangled Banner.” No, wait a minute. When I give you the cue, play

“Stars and Stripes” for the entrance of the Governor. No, wait a minute again. When I give you the cue, play “The Star-Spangled Banner” and then “Stars and Stripes”.”

As Governor Volpe arrived at the front door, the M.C. signaled me to play the “The Star-Spangled Banner.” I started the “Banner,” the lights dimmed, and an electric fan started blowing the flag with a spotlight on it. How dramatic. Except the Governor was standing outside of the ballroom. The M.C. had gotten confused. To make matters worse, he ran up to the stage and tried to get the ensemble to stop playing. Half of the players, not understanding what to do, listened to him and stopped playing. I then had to stop the other players to avoid a complete meltdown. With “The Star-Spangled Banner” stopping, the person operating the fan stopped it from blowing.

The flag drooped and the spotlight was turned off.

Senator Saltonstall of Massachusetts approached me and said, “Sir, on behalf of the United States Senate, I am lodging a protest for your interruption of “The Star-Spangled Banner”.” I was rattled to say the least,

but I still had to conduct the correct song, which was “Stars and Stripes,” to provide the entrance for Governor Volpe. Once that was out of the way, I was expected to create music to enhance the occasion. While I was conducting a Sousa march, I felt a tug on my right pants leg. There was a little, old lady who said, “Hey Buddy, tell your boys they are too loud.” I acknowledged her and continued. A few minutes later, I felt the same tug.

The little old lady was standing there again, and she repeated, “I told you your boys are too loud!” I was beginning to regret the opportunity to conduct for the State Convention. But when she came up and started yelling at me a third time, Larry Mentzer, the principal clarinetist, who later became principal clarinetist in San Antonio, looked down at her and said, “Lady, leave the guy alone. He is just trying to do his job.”

This is an excerpt from Travels with Stephen: The Most Famous Unknown Conductor.

Courtesy of Stephen Gunzenhauser

STEPHEN

Tess's Table

The Beauty of (Melted) Butter

By Teresa Banik Capuzzo

Friends were visiting for the weekend, and it’s our custom when we’re together to do a significant brunch. Jon is from Texas, and I was going to try my hand at biscuits and sausage gravy, a southern (and this Yankee’s) favorite. My sister-in-law Lisa had recently served butter swim biscuits at a family dinner, and they were as beautiful a thing as the name suggests.

I had just plopped a stick of butter into a tiny saucepan as my friend Linda, Jon's wife, walked into the kitchen.

“So…you know how this goes,” I told her, as the glorious scent spilled around us.

“Yeah,” she nodded wisely. “I know.”

Because melting butter needs no further explanation. Along with the classic “It just needs another dash of salt,” chefs use it as a little cheat (if you can call anything so pure a cheat) to add a final glow to sauces; soften a sharp red sauce; take a perfectly grilled steak to the next level.

But it was only at that moment that it occurred to me that two of my other go-to recipes start in this same intoxicatingly silky way: Melt a stick of butter.

It is an epic epicurean common denominator.

This recipe is a traditional buttermilk biscuit without all the fuss. You’ll find several iterations on the internet, this one from 12 Tomatoes. The biscuits were fabulous with the sausage gravy. But this is the kind of biscuit that will answer any biscuit need (like holding up chicken in gravy…or strawberry jammmmm):

Butter Swim Biscuits

2½ c. all-purpose flour

4 tsp. baking powder

1½ Tbsp. sugar

2 tsp. salt

2 c. buttermilk

½ c. (1 stick) butter, melted

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. Add buttermilk and mix just until a moist dough is formed. Pour melted butter into an 8x8 baking pan and dump the dough on top of the melted butter. Use a spatula to spread the dough evenly across the pan until it touches the sides. Cut the dough into 9 squares and bake 20-25 minutes until golden brown.

• It used to be easy to find chicken livers in the poultry section at the grocery store. But popular tastes (or food industry habits) must have changed, because the chicken liver river all but dried up. Then came Delivered Fresh, the local food service that provides local folks with local meats and produce, and we were back in business. Every time I see chicken livers on sale I tuck them into the freezer for a rainy day, to make Julia Child’s chicken liver mousse for my chicken-liver-lovin’ pals. You can serve it on plain crackers. Served on thin, toasted French bread it is almost a meal in itself. This recipe is from Julia’s magnum opus, Mastering the Art of French Cooking:

Chicken Liver Mousse

1 lb. (about 2 c.) chicken livers

2 Tbsp. minced shallots or green onions

2 Tbsp. butter

1/3 c. Madeira or cognac

¼ c. heavy cream

½ tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. allspice

1/8 tsp. pepper

Wade Spencer

Pinch of thyme

½ c. (1 stick) butter, melted

Look the livers over and remove any greenish or blackish spots, then cut into ½-inch pieces. Sauté with the shallots or green onions in 2 Tbsp. hot butter for 2 to 3 minutes, until the livers are just stiffened, but still rosy inside. Scrape into a blender.

Pour the wine or cognac into the sauté pan and boil it down rapidly until it has reduced to 3 Tbsp. Scrape it into the blender. Add the cream and seasonings to the blender, cover, and blend at top speed for several seconds until the liver is a smooth paste. Then add the melted butter and blend several seconds more. (Julia at this point forces the mixture through a sieve, which I have yet to do—and so far no complaints.) Taste carefully for seasoning. Pack it into a bowl or jar, cover with waxed paper, and chill for 2 to 3 hours.

In anticipation of an emergency need for a dessert, I always have a can of tart cherries on hand (beware: not the gloppy sweetened cherry “filling” you see in the baking aisle), and in the freezer a bag of pecans (and, of course, reserve butter). Peggy Dettwiler, the brilliant conductor and director of choral activities at Commonwealth University-Mansfield first baked this Schwartzwalder kirschtorte (that’s German for Black Forest cake) for us. Peggy’s husband, Jürgen Thym, emeritus professor of musicology at Eastman School of Music, reports that their recipe came from conductor Emily Freeman Brown, the wife of his Eastman colleague, composer Samuel Adler. Jürgen suspects this recipe came from Sam’s mom.

Jürgen also introduced us to kirsch (or kirschwasser), the dry, clear brandy that’s distilled from black morello cherries. It, too, hails from the Black Forest, and you can either sprinkle it onto or serve it (neat) alongside the cake.

For this recipe, be careful that the melted butter is not hot when you mix it into the batter. You don’t want to cook the eggs before the cake hits the oven.

Schwartzwalder Kirschtorte

2 eggs

1 c. sugar

½ c. (1 stick) butter, melted

2 Tbsp. cocoa powder

1 tsp. vanilla extract

½ tsp. almond extract

½ c. flour

1 tsp. baking powder

Pinch salt

¾ c. chopped pecans

1 can sour cherries, drained

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine eggs, sugar, and butter, mixing well. Add remaining ingredients except the cherries and pour into a buttered 9-inch springform pan. (It will make your life a lot easier if you line the bottom with buttered parchment paper.) Place the cherries in circles on top of the batter, pressing in lightly. Bake 35-40 minutes (be careful not to dry it out). Cool slightly, pop it out of the springform, then do a double flip onto the cake plate. Serve topped with whipped cream.

Fly continued from page 13 made the cover of Sports Illustrated in October 2012 in a roundabout way—as part of a background mural honoring him and three other Brooklyn legends: Jay-Z, Dr. J, and Jackie Robinson.

If life was like the Hallmark Channel, the story would end here, on a note of grace. But once again, he threw the whole thing away. In 2017 he was arrested as the kingpin of a $20 million drug bust called “Operation Flying High.” Fly had been peddling drugs (in false-bottomed Pringles cans, of all things) to the same kids that he had been mentoring just a few years earlier. His mugshot looks like a dog chewed him up and spit him out. He pleaded guilty and was sentenced to ten more years in the Wyoming Correctional Facility in Attica. A district attorney said, “That someone with his stature with his influence on young people would run such a substantial narcotics operation is truly sad and reprehensible.”

These Days…

James Williams Jr. was paroled in January 2023 and is back living with his daughter in Brooklyn. In a recent YouTube interview (January 2024), he is alternately rueful and evasive: “I was a hustler, but never a killer.” He is seventy years old, and still incorrigibly Fly.

And what of Glen Springs Academy?

It closed in the fall of 1974 due to low enrollment (never more than sixty to eighty students) and inadequate funding (some promised grants failed to materialize). Its innovative educational philosophy was too far ahead of its time. Thankfully, the former teachers all did well in other pursuits; among them, coach and math teacher John Pulos now works in the tasting room at Wagner Vineyards and is a gracious and informative host. The property gradually deteriorated, a victim of vandalism, petty arson, and insurance premiums. It was demolished in 1996. One building remains: the little art-deco

gymnasium where Fly and his brothers honed their skills, knowing that basketball was their only chance to escape to a better life. Many made it. One didn’t.

On a late winter day, the view from atop the western side of Seneca Lake is—not a cliché—breathtaking. The overgrown gym still looks sturdy despite the flotsam scattered around it. The wind stirs the tall spruce trees, and it seems stranger than fiction that this, of all places, was once the home court of one of basketball’s most memorable characters.

David Higgins is from the small town of Deposit, New York. He retired in 2021 from Corning Community College, where he taught art for thirty years. Upon hearing how much the licensing fees for photos of Fly cost, he volunteered to create original art to go along with this story. He enjoyed it, because knowing they'd be published made the stakes higher, and the deadline helped him focus.

Wade Spencer

A broken-winged bird without its Fly: This ruined gym, high above Seneca Lake, was once the home court of many dreams, especially those of Fly Williams.

BACK OF THE MOUNTAIN

March Ember

By Jason Robson

Itook this photo last March when visiting my brother Tim’s sugar shack in East Smithfield, where he and his family have started a small maple syrup business—Robson Maple. I was there to check out his new evaporator and was struck by the steam and sparks shooting out of the chimney, making a lovely winter scene. A thirty-second exposure was key to capturing the lights so the viewer gets the same warm and cozy feeling their homestead gives me. If you were walking by and needed shelter, you’d feel like you could get it there. And you’d be right.

A “Wonder-ful” Place to Experience!

The Town

Located along scenic Route 6, quaint and quiet Wellsboro offers a unique experience to all visitors. The town boasts distinct shops that appeal to all ages and genres, eateries that cater to all tastes, and lodging provided through hotels, motels, beautiful Victorian style bed and breakfasts, and various rentals.

The Canyon

Minutes from town, one can enjoy Pine Creek Gorge; a Natural National Landmark. The Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania provides 47 miles of scenic beauty within two State Parks (Leonard Harrison and Colton Point), hiking, backpacking, bicycling, rafting, canoeing, kayaking, and birding. There is something for adventurers of all levels and interests.

The Rail-Trail

The canyon also hosts the Pine Creek Trail; 62 miles of flatgrade surface, the length of the canyon. USA Today named the trail a Top 10 Bike Ride. The trail offers year-round access through cross-country skiing, horse-drawn wagon rides, and an equestrian trail. The nearby Asaph area offers intermediate and advanced mountain biking.

visit www.wellsboropa.com