From NYC to Hicks

For those who don't know, Hicks is a small community in upstate NY, a bit east of Elmira and southwest of Ithaca. I mention this just so we can all get our bearings. Hicks isn't a town or a village. It's really a community or a hamlet that's part of the town of Baldwin in Chemung County in upstate NY.

Many times people ask me how I ended up where I am today, philosophically, politically and geographically. Well it certainly has been a journey. This is an attempt at a chapter in that journey. Something to share relative to where I came from and where I went, how I got there but hopefully not yet where I ended up. Again, this is just one section of the trip. Like others, I wish a map or GPS had been at my side along the way.

In 1967, my wife, my young son and I were living on First Ave. in NYC. Close to the nexus of the universe actually - 1st Street and First Ave. We were renting a railroad flat between 1st St. and 2nd St. Basically three rooms and a bathroom. A walk-up apartment as they were called, because that's what you did when there was no elevator in the building - walk-up. So we were in a fifth floor walk-up on the Lower, and I mean lower Eastside. First St. actually ended and became Houston St. right around First Ave. Katz's Delicatessen was in shouting distance. There was also a neighborhood, Ukrainian bar on the corner of First and 1st. A heavy set, fellow by the name of Mike was the owner/barkeep. A great place to grab a beer, a pickled egg and maybe a tool or two that had been taken off a truck someplace.

My wife and I were both involved in and with the Catholic Worker House of Hospitality, St. Joseph's. But things had changed. I had recently returned from a long involuntary absence that requires a chapter or two of its own. The city, at least in my mind, was rougher and more violent then I remembered. Groceries, a pack of cigarettes, or just a visit to see someone required that up and down trip of five flights of stairs and it was getting old. I was noticing and being impacted by more violence in the street.

I had become very close friends with a couple in Harrison, NY, Judy and Irving Lerner. Their politics were similar, certainly progressives in every sense of the word and Judy was an activist in the Women's and Peace Movements. She was a contemporary and close friend of Bella Abzug. The Lerners had a few years earlier introduced me to Bill Kuntsler and many others involved in the causes of that time period. I talked to Judy and Irving about what was going on and our desire to leave the city. Like many young people, my conversations tended to be about hopes and dreams rather then any reality based plan. But Judy and Irv were dreamers and supporters of dreamers. One day Irv proposed that if we could find a place outside of the city, he'd consider helping us figure out how to make it happen.

In the meantime other things were happening at home. The apartment house that we lived in was becoming a target of burglaries. As I said we were on the fifth floor. The stairs to the roof were right outside our door. Roof top burglars are or were the norm at that time. Go to the roof, climb down a fire escape or shimmy your way down to an access window on the floor closest to the roof, make your entry, steal the loot, back to the roof and bam your gone down the stairs. We had a fire escape on our back window, the baby's room. It wasn't barred or screened since it didn't have access to the roof - just down. There was also a large roof unit that blocked access from the roof to the fire escape. To get to that window as an entry you would have to hang from the roof, six floors up and actually swing yourself over to the fire escape. Exiting by that route would require the same gymnastics but probably a bit more difficult then on the way up depending on your haul.

One night, my wife and I were awakened by unfamiliar noises in the apartment. I got out of bed and almost immediately saw someone running toward the baby's room from the kitchen and out the window. The baby woke and I ran to the front door. As I opened the door all I saw was the flash of someone scurrying down the stairs and there in front of me, on the floor, was my wife's handbag with items scattered on the tile floor. That was it. In that moment I knew we needed to leave that place.

At that time there was a big national real estate firm that everyone with a dream to pursue got to know. The Strout Real Estate Catalogue had listings all over the country. Lots of acreage for sale to all of those back to the land folks who were looking for alternative life styles. We had joined the ranks. I remember getting an atlas road map, flipping to New York State and placing a compass on the page to draw a circle that would take us 150 or 200 miles from the city. That's where we would begin looking for that dream property. Someplace where we could live in peace, grow a garden and live off of the land.

There were reconnaissance trips that took us to Liberty, NY, Saugerties, and a few places in Pa. Then we found it. There it was, plain as day, page 58 under NYS - 42 acres, house, shed. House needs work. $7000, Baldwin, NY. Where in the hell was Baldwin? We poured over the atlas, looking and looking. There it is, east of Elmira outside the neatly drawn circle. Damn! But it's not that far out of the circle so let's take a look. Can't hurt. So a ride north and west on Route 17 took our small family toward Elmira, NY best known, right or wrong for its walled penitentiary. We followed a map past Waverly, NY and found the road we needed to take north. Wynkoop Creek Rd led us around curves and through forests
to the hamlet of Hicks and to a right turn on a dirt road that led to the property we were seeking. There she was. A small house, handy man special for sure, a shed sitting along the creek that ran through the property from the mountain a short distance behind the house. Was this Wynkoop Creek? The house was close to the road and the house across the street was right on the edge of the road. So much for privacy and peace and quiet in the country. In addition, the occupants across the street were very interested in the young couple with the baby who were meeting with the Strout Realtor.

Potential and lots of it. I never heard about so much potential as I did that day. And I saw it. I saw all that potential. I even began believing that I was the consummate handyman. All I really needed, I convinced myself, were some good tools. The property, the 42 acres, were in a horseshoe shape. The middle of the horseshoe was owned by the neighbor across the street. It was a pasture of sorts and home to about 40 dairy cows. On the upper side of the horseshoe was a junkyard filled with cars, trucks, tractors and every type of vehicle you could imagine. Dream on, dream on. Paradise had been found. Nearest store was 10 miles. Not bad. Schools were just over the hill, around the bend and through the woods. What more did we need to know?

Back to the city with constant talk about how nice the country was and how much potential we saw. There was much more thought about this move. There were plenty of barriers. But eventually a decision was made and with the help of our good friend Irving, a purchase offer was made and accepted.

There were lots of goodbyes to NYC and to all of the friends we were leaving. We didn't have much, but what we did have was hauled down those five flights of stairs and put in a rented truck that followed the car in a small caravan out of NYC to Hicks. The Wilson's were off and running. Now where could I get those tools and I wonder if they come with instructions.