Adirondack Remembering

My mother was a bit daring in her money making adventures and in 1954, she thought of a new way for double income for the summer. Being an antique dealer, antiques were in her blood and everything we did led to antiques.

She made a deal with the Syracuse Post Standard Daily Newspaper, to sell subscriptions to the paper in northern New York State. Subscriptions were ten dollars per year or twenty five dollars for three years. My mother would received a commission of twenty five percent, plus a gas allowance of twenty dollars a week. At that time, gas was twenty three cents per gallon. The paper also gave her a list of current subscribers and past subscribers. This included their address and phone numbers. However, most people there, back in the early 1950s, didn't have phones. Cell phones hadn't been invented yet and there wasn't a phone booth to be found.

This was going to be quite a feat, with all of the miles to be traveled. Times were tough and for people to pay out ten or twenty five dollars all at once, might be hard for them to do. But, my mother had a goal in mind. If she was the highest subscription seller during the summer, she would win a new kitchen stove and a new freezer, plus her commission. Now this all said and done, her real goal was to buy antiques in every old home she entered. In those early years, the Adirondack Mountains were a gold mine for early antiques. Most houses and barns were packed with good country antiques and momentoes. And most homes were still using them as everyday part of their life. NOTE: If the subscribers didn't have the funds to pay, she would trade for antiques

On or about May first of 1954, we loaded the car with suite cases, fishing tackle, personal items, and what ever else we needed for five months of traveling. My father would do the driving, my mother would do the selling and buying and I would do the fishing. Our plan was to rent cabins and cottages along the way in each area we would do our business. I say "our business" because I was part of the wonderful wild adventure. Not many twelve year old kids would ever have such a chance to travel and live in the north country for a whole summer.

My parents had borrowed one thousand dollars from the local bank for buying antiques and put up our house as collateral. I only found this out thirty years later. So, this adventure was do or die to them.

I remember we stayed at a cottage at the water's edge for the first two weeks and I got to do a lot of fishing during that time. We became friend's with the owners of the cottage and over the years we spent many fine weeks at that cabin. I still go fishing at Black Lake when I can and always remember the past with fond memories.

Every two weeks we would travel back home to unload our antiques and pay bills etc. My mother would also call some antique dealers and sell some of the items she had purchased up north. After a few days being home, we would jump in the car and head north for another two weeks of selling newspapers and buying antiques.

We stayed in many camps and cottages that summer, all across the great Adirondack Mountains. I think I fished in thirteen different lakes and caught hundreds of fish. Most of the time, we all fished and my mother was tops in catching fish. My dad named her the "Fishing Bitch Of The North." and she loved that title until her death.

At the end of the summer, my mother had won the stove and the freezer. She was tops in newspaper sales and had sold more subscriptions than all others combined. Plus, we had a house full of wonderful antiques to sell all fall and winter.

I think back to those days in the North Country, sitting on a dock and catching pan fish for our supper. We also had met many many wonderful mountain people that lived a simple life at it's fullest.

Being 70 years young, I still try to live my life at its fullest, even if its just dreaming or thinking about the good times of my past. I can sit in my easy chair and think back to the very dock at Black Lake and can almost smell the Balsam aroma from the trees. I love that North Country.........

Robert Hungerford