One of only several remaining interior ranger
stations in the Adirondack Park is located at Racquette Falls. The station
located there is a handsome log and stone structure with polished wooden
floors and hand crafted furniture. A striking stone fireplace helps lend a
Great Camp Arts and Crafts look to the main room, which is kept fautlessly
neat by its bachelor seasonal ranger. A small office and efficient kitchen
share the rear of the building with a small bedroom and a larger bunkroom
designed to house personnel in the event of a fire or other emergency
efforts.
I would add to this description of the cabin a point of historical
interest and recognition. This is done because certain occurrences need to
be recorded and deserved recognition is often overlooked. For example, that
fireplace was built by my former classmate and long time friend, Howard
Reandeau, who at the time of construction was the D .E .C .caretaker at the
“Falls.”
Howard (Wigs) was a skilled stone mason and his masterful work graces
many of the pretentious homes and residences in this area, not to mention
his exceptional work along with other local artisans such as Washington
Street resident Tony Rovito, that is so highly admired throughout the
grounds and buildings of the Adirondack Museum at Blue Mt. Lake. It should
be noted that the stone that was used for the fireplace and chimney at the
ranger station was not as might be expected of native origin. Rather it
originated in Tennessee and arrived here on a freight train and was
offloaded at a siding off Mill Street and trucked to Blue Mtn. Lake. It was
originally acquired because of its outstanding color and form and was a
specific requirement in the architectural plans for various exhibits and
buildings at the present monumental and world famous museum, which was then
undergoing construction.
When there was no longer any need for the stone at the museum, the
surplus was make available to the D E C through the generosity of the museum
and Chet Johnson of this village, whose firm W.C. Johnson and Sons began the
original museum construction in 1955. The stone for the station was then
transported to Coreys by truck and then over the winter sledged into the
clearing on what is today’s foot trail.
Chet Johnson had a special affection for the clearing and for the
river. He was a friend to several of the previous owners when it was
privately owned and for many years had a platform tent camp a short distance
downstream where Palmer Brook enters the river. Chet will also be
remembered for the countless hours that he toiled with others, over the
years, removing hundreds of partially submerged river drive log to improve
navigation on the river’s twisting course. Can you imagine his indignation
today over the proposal to ban motors on his beloved river? (Even as he
would severely condemn the Yahoo’s whose reckless and inconsiderate behavior
with their motor boats threaten that traditional privilege.)
Some sort of dwelling has existed in the clearing since about 1860. It
was once much larger than is today and at one early time, around 1860, was
the headquarters and supply depot for goods brought up from this village and
destined for use there and the many remote lumber camps in the Calkins Brook
and Cold River area. After the lumber operations ended, successive owners
maintained a lodge and cabins and offered boarding and transport services.
More on those owners in a later column, but let me tell you about meeting
the last private owner before it was acquired by New York State.
A number of years ago Dave LaVoy and I , not having any luck fishing
Dawson Pond decided to try the upper falls of the river. Here we
experienced incredible luck catching our limit of large speckled trout.
There wasn’t supposed to be trout in the river, but we didn’t know that!
The pool below the falls was thick with white foam, not unlike the head on a
fine glass of Guiness Stout. Almost each cast of our lure into that foam
produced a fat trout, strong and wild and landing those fighting beauties,
our reels screaming in protest as the trout made long runs and sought the
fast current below the pool was an experience Dave and I will always
remember as one of the best days in a lifetime of fishing. Having finished
fishing we headed back to the clearing and on the trail we met an older
gentleman and as wood travelers often do, we fell into conversation. I
remember that he was skeptical about our fabulous catch. Only when we
opened our creels did he acknowledge ours was no fish tale. He told us,
that day, that he had known the river for almost forty years and that to the
best of his knowledge, an invasion of pike had long ago cleaned out any
trout. He wondered out loud if the recent high water had flushed trout into
the river from its Cold River tributary, a known trout fishery. Earlier
that day, while returning from Dawson on the old supply haulroad, I had
found a large handsome leather portfolio or wallet, laced with protected
multiple sleeves of beautiful trout flies. I took the case from my pack and
asked the older gent if it could belong to him. If I had returned a gold
Rolex watch, he could not have been more overjoyed, nor I suspect, more
surprised. We were, after all, a couple of smelly, rough-looking
customers. That gentleman turned out to be Charles Byran Jr. of Chicago,
former president of the Pullman Standard Car Mfc. Co. and a distinguished
engineer. At the time of our meeting he was the owner of the Racquette
Falls clearing, the lodge and cabins there and along with Mrs. Byran had
been a summer visitor to the area since the early 1920's. Mr. Byran died in
1966 in Chicago. In 1970, Mrs. Byran sold the 89.2 acre parcel to New York
State. Two years later, the Racquette Falls Lodge, built in 1934 for the
Byrans by Ross Freeman of Coreys, was destroyed in a spectacular night fire
which broke out in the generator room of the two story log structure. The
D.E.C. Interior ranger residence is near the footprint of that former
lodge.
Racquette Falls is a unique, charming, magnetic place. From the early
Tupper Lake lumbermen 145 years ago, it has commanded a special niche in our
local history. We are so lucky to have this cherished legacy in our back
yard!. As Peter, Paul and Mary have chorused : “This land is my land- This
land is your land” |