Historical Wyoming County May 1952 - Old Fulton History

May 19^2 Page 10k
MILESTONES (cont. from page 103)
Another, and possibly final chapter, in the history of the human
population of St„ Helena, vanished hamlet in the Town of Castile,
took place at Warsaw, April 26, when Supreme Court Justice William
Ho Munson received the application of the Superintendent of Public
Works of the State of New York to remove the remains of deceased
persons interred in the old village cemetery„ This step was taken
to preserve and maintain the monuments and other physical remains
from possible damage from storage waters which might be impounded by
the Mto Morris Dam.
Residents of Wyoming were interested in a successful Arctic Ocean
feat of a former townsman, Captain Louis Erhart, as described in the
March 31 issue of Life, Capt0 Erhart piloted the plane, the first
to land on ice island T3, some 103 miles from Greenland in deep snow
with a temperature of sixty below„
La Verne C. Cooley, Batavia historian, who has prepared the name
indices to HISTORICAL WYOMING is the compiler and editor of Tombstone
Inscriptions from the Abandoned Cemeteries and Farm Burials of
Genesee County, just published at Batavia. Splendidly printed and
bound in cloth, this volume represents years of patient research,
includes around 1900 names, complete with index, a total of 2l6
pages. It is available at his address, 8 Chestnut Street, at
postpaid. Included are the inscriptions from Vernal Cemetery, Town
of Middlebury, as Genesee County residents were buried there. This
record is limited to 100 copies.
April 19, the Warsaw Monday Club observed the 60th anniversary of
its founding on March 7> 1892, when fourteen ladies met to organize
a literary club. It is the oldest women's club in Wyoming County.
The April 28 meeting of the Warsaw Historical Society had as its
subject "Early Grist Mills and Saw Mills of Western New York."
BELLES-LETTRES FROM MIDDLEBURY, lSljlj.-I8J4.5 (cont.)
Talk about "cold comfort"', will you? Just Imagine your sister,
Mrs. Brown—a good companionable lady, --Mrs. Skinner, one of the
excellent of the earth --(both, though Mrs. about my age), and Mrs.
Whittier --a young widow of 22, as beautiful as a fairy ( and as
petite too), with lustrous black eyes, full of tenderness, and the
sweetest lips you ever saw--just imagine I say, your sister, with
such company, on the warmest, sunniest Saturday afternoon that ever
called out the birds of a spring day, wending her way about a mile
to the "Cascade"--and that Cascade--I cannot describe it--the path
to it, after leaving the road, is "upward and onward" a half-mile,on
a ridge of just sufficient width to insure a safe footing--while on
the other hand forest trees grow beneath you, whose tops are beneath
your feet, while at their feet, flow the rivulets, formed by the
separation of the stream near the "Cascade," sparkling and dancing
in the sunlight, that is now not shut out by the thick foliage of
midsummer--imagine her, holding by the trunk of some young tree,
leaning over the side of the abyss to pluck the wild flowers, that
constitute the "alphabet of the angels," and then, with her companions,
seated beneath an immense oak that grows on the very summit of
(continued on page 105)